woh phir nahi aate

phool khilte hain, log milte hain magar

patjhad mein jo phool murjha jaate hain,
woh bahaaron ke aane ke khilte nahin;

kuchh log ek roz jo bichhad jaate hain,
woh hazaaron ke aane se milte nahi;

umr bhar chaahe koi pukaara kare unka naam,
woh phir nahi aate,
woh phir nahi aate.

They say that practice makes a man perfect. But I find saying Good Bye no less difficult today than what it was years ago, though I have seen myself doing that too many times, to too many people. Perhaps being alone is the only cure of loneliness. Only the void fills itself permanantly.