यह कविता एक मरते हुए व्यक्ति के आखिरी विचार हैं, जब वो ये चिन्तन कर रहा है कि उसने जीवन में आख़िर क्या खोया और क्या पाया ।
Hiraeth is a Welsh word that refers to the longing for a home that no longer exists.
I lost my paternal grandparents a few years back and this poem is dedicated to one of my favourite childhood memories with them.
Recently, I read about an interesting phenomenon. Imagine that you are offered a gold coin right now or two gold coins tomorrow. What would you pick? Most of us would pick two coins later and for good reason.
This poem is about the increasing violence in the name of religion by people who probably do not understand the concept of religion in itself.
हर खामोशी के पीछे एक सैलाब उमड़ने कॊ है खड़ा, पर दुनिया के इन सवालों में कुछ तेज़ाब हॊता है । इंसान सोचता है कभी मिलेगा एक पल सुकून का पर कुदरत का खुशी से कुछ इंतकाम होता है ।
When these gliding bits of paper sway and float in the sky, resemble an epitome of human ardour high and high and high!
I thought one day that between gold and copper who is the one better and deserving? Gold, the one famous for its lustre and beauty, or copper that makes it enduring.