بارش میں تنہا بلی کھڑی
خاموشی اوڑھے، غم سے جُڑی
کوئی امن کا خواب سناتا رہا
کوئی شعلوں کو پھر جگاتا رہا

کوئی چُنتا رہا جڑی بوٹیاں
نرمی سے بُنتا کھیل کی گھڑیاں
مگر کوئی تھا جو رہ گیا پیچھے
دوڑتی ریل نے نہ دیکھا، نہ پُوچھا

جسے وہ ایکسپریس ٹرین کہتے تھے
وہ رکی نہیں، نہ ہی پلٹ کر دکھائی
اس کی پہیوں کے ساتھ تقدیر کی دھڑکن تھی
ایک دروازہ بند ہو چکا تھا، راستہ سیل کر دیا گیا
بنا کوئی لفظ کہے

اور

کوچوان دُھندلکے میں کہیں دُور کھڑا تھا
ہتھوڑا تھامے، مقصد اسےنہ سوجھ سکا تھا

A lonely cat stood still in rain,
Soaked in silence, wrapped in pain.
One dreamed aloud, a hero of peace,
Another longed for the fire’s release.
One picked herbs with tender grace,
Preparing games for time and space.
Yet someone missed the speeding train—
The express train, they called its name.
It didn’t stop, nor turned to show,
Its wheels rolled on with fate in tow.
A gatebow latched, sealing the way,
Closing the gates, with no words to say...

And

The coachman stood in distant haze,
Hammer in hand, lost in a daze...

---

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HERO
RAIN
PEACE
FIRE
CAT
GATEBOW
HERBS
GAME
HAMMER
EXPRESS TRAIN

---

Those who don't know,
Well, I used these words as part of an assignment in a poem.
You may have an idea of what I'm talking about here...
The essence of my poem.

The poem carries longing, vulnerability,
The helplessness of being abandoned or isolated,
Desires,
And the sense of homelessness.
The hopes for harmony, nurturing and healing...

The chance is gone! The train (life, destiny, time) doesn't pause. It keeps going, indifferent...
Consequences? Can they be altered now? Is the gatebow, the latch now locked? No more chances, and no explanation offered. It's final???

Are we the coachman? confused, stuck in a daze, perhaps stunned, holding a hammer, but paralyzed!!!

Decipher it however you wish,
But in the end,
You see the picture, don’t you?

Yes,
The wars,
The destruction they bring upon us.
I could paint a more vivid picture,
But since it's Easter and the festive season,
I will keep it subtle...

I stand with Palestine,
I stand with Ukraine,
I stand with humanity,
I stand with the oppressed,
And I stand with all humans, anywhere in the world,
Suffering at the hands of unfairness and destructive politics...

Hence the title of my poem:

The Ones Left on the Platform

A metaphor for all who are abandoned, dreams delayed, peace denied. They are the ones watching destiny pass.

May peace prevail ✌🏻