एक राजा था... ख़ुद से बेख़बर...
There was king, unkown of his self,
कोई न जानता था उसकी पीड़ा।
No one knew the pain he dealt,
पूछता था ख़ुद से अकसर —
He asked himself repeatedly
क्या ठीक होगी मेरी सीता?
Is my Seeta (wife) alright??
रोज़ रातें आसमान देखता,
Every night he pondered at the sky,
मन ही मन विरह के लिए ख़ुद को कोसता।
He cursed himself from within, for this tragedy,
कभी खाली चौकी, कभी बिखरे पड़े श्रृंगार को तकता,
Sometimes he stared at the empty cot, sometimes at the scattered ornaments
ख़ुद से ही सवाल करता — क्या ठीक होगी मेरी सीता?
Asking himself same question every day... Is my Seeta Alright??
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