(A man, at the time of partition, is going to Pakistan from his beloved country India hoping that maybe one day he will come back to his native land. This poem describes his emotions, and his feelings as he is on his way to Pakistan along with the caravan.)
Ek nishaan dekhta hoon main,
Logon ke kadmo ke nishaan,
Jo jaa rahe hain,
Ek watan se doosre watan ki ore...
Wo nishaan jo shaayad hi waapas laut ke aayenge
Ulti disha mein ek din,
Hai ek khwahish meri,
Ki mere watan ki mitti bhi
Mere saath chal chale,
Par afsos...ye ho nahin sakta
Na socha tha maine kabhi
Aayega ye waqt bhi
Jab supurd ho jaaunga main
Dooje watan ke...
Wo jo gubaar udte dikhaai dete hain
Jab kaarvan ye guzra tha
Un gubaaron mein ghuli, mere watan ki mitti ki khushboo bhi
Kahin kho si jaati hai
Har khoon ke katre mein
Sunaai deti hai cheekhein mujhe
Un masoom bachchon ki, un auraton ki
Jo shikaar hue
Khooni khel ke
Mera dil bhi ab
Dilaasa de raha hai
Mere mehboob watan ko
Jo ro raha hai
Mere jaane ke gham mein
Us raaste se hokar bhi guzra main
Jab dekha tha maine pattharon ko
To yaad aayi ghar ki wo chaukhat
Jinhein laanghne ki khwahish mein
Kabhi-kabhi gir bhi jaata tha main
Thokar khaakar
Ye saza mil rahi hai humein
Kis baat ki humein
Ki abhi hi manaaya tha humne
Aazadi ka jashn
Aur ab rukhsat ho rahe hain
Apne watan se
Aaj jo mera ghar hai
Kal kisi aur ka hoga
Aur mujhe bhi rehna padega
Kisi aur ke ghar ko
Apna banaakar
Wo nishaan dekh raha hoon main
Jo ab keval ek sach
Ek kadva sach bankar
Reh Jaayenge
