The faces of many beautiful girls of my youth sometimes flash through my mind, but often I cannot even remember their names.
Many of them would be dead, and even those who are alive I would not like to see. They would be grandmothers now, and age would have taken its toll. So their beautiful faces would not now be existing. So let them remain ever young and beautiful in my memory.
I am reminded of Ghalib's verses ;
सब कहाँ ? कुछ लाला-ओ-गुल में नुमाया हो गईं
ख़ाक में क्या सूरते होंगी कि पिन्हा हो गईं
याद थी हमको भी रंगारंग बज़्म आराईयां
लेकिन अब नक़्श-ओ-निगार-इ-ताक-इ-निसियां हो गईं
Where are they all ? Some have manifested themselves as tulips and flowers.
What would be the looks of those who are now in their graves ?
I remember the joyous and colourful gatherings of my youth
But now they are only the decorations of my fading memory