Touch of Beloved

You plucked, We(I) broke down,
separated from the branch.

You smelt, embraced and threw,
Separated from you too.

Passersby crushed under the feet,
Undone the petals.

But thanks for ‘Your Touch’ ,
That we(I) can’t still forget.

--Bhai Veer Singh’ original Pritam Chhuh in Punjabi
--Translated by Kawaldeep Singh

Random Thoughts

Sometimes I use to feel that I am totally alone emotionally. No shoulder to lean upon :( Why do I always get riddles whose pieces are actually burnt down? Then I use to get answers from something (or someone) from inside. It seems life is itself a clueless puzzle and in some manners cluelessness is reason of life. Atleast you could smile even a second before a grave! If we somehow had the clues of our puzzled lives we would have it more messed up in efforts to get the whole in order. I think the most pleasant surprise that we have got from the creator himself is we have got control only on our present; neither on past nor even a bit on future.