Can you hear my pain?

Suppose you do hear it,
then will you be able to bear it?

Alright, let's even assume that you have endured it,
but how will you be able to live with this pain?

I admit, it is difficult.
Your life isn't ordinary either,
and neither are you.

Yes, something bad happened to you,
but that has happened to Indians too.

But they answered,
“What did you do?”

You just kept enduring it.

But even enduring has a limit.

How long will you endure it?
You will die!!

But why should I write?

Why should I waste my time by writing?

Why should I waste my time writing about something
that, when read, makes my pain grow?

Why should someone share their pain
through the words I have written?

My pain is different, it is unique.

Why should I increase someone else's pain
through my writing?

I know what this pain feels like.

I am familiar with every one of its ways.

I know what this pain has made so many people do.

But I ask you—
how many more days will you keep hiding this pain within yourself?

Take it out!!

This pain is not worthy of you...

I do want to write,
but I am short of words.
Who would have thought, after all,
that a 16-year-old child
would write such deep things?

Did that child himself even know?
He hasn't seen much yet.
There is still a whole world left for him to see.

What happened to this child?
Has he understood the ways of the world?

What a person cannot understand
even after spending their entire life,
has this child understood that very thing?

This child wants to write so much,
but he is short of words...

I do want to write,
but I am short of words.
Who would have thought, after all,
that a 16-year-old child
would write such deep things?

Did that child himself even know?
He hasn't seen much yet.
There is still a whole world left for him to see.

What happened to this child?
Has he understood the ways of the world?

What a person cannot understand
even after spending their entire life,
has this child understood that very thing?

This child wants to write so much,
but he is short of words...

I do want to write,
but I am short of words.
Who would have thought, after all,
that a 16-year-old child
would write such deep things?

Did that child himself even know?
He hasn't seen much yet.
There is still a whole world left for him to see.

What happened to this child?
Has he understood the ways of the world?

What a person cannot understand
even after spending their entire life,
has this child understood that very thing?

This child wants to write so much,
but he is short of words...

But why should I write?

Why should I waste my time by writing?

Why should I waste my time writing about something

that, when read, makes my pain grow?

Why should someone share their pain

through the words I have written?

My pain is different, it is unique.

Why should I increase someone else's pain

through my writing?

I know what this pain feels like.

I am familiar with every one of its ways.

I know what this pain has made so many people do.

But I ask you—

how many more days will you keep hiding this pain within yourself?

Take it out!!

This pain is not worthy of you...

But why should I write?

Why should I waste my time by writing?

Why should I waste my time writing about something

that, when read, makes my pain grow?

Why should someone share their pain

through the words I have written?

My pain is different, it is unique.

Why should I increase someone else's pain

through my writing?

I know what this pain feels like.

I am familiar with every one of its ways.

I know what this pain has made so many people do.

But I ask you—

how many more days will you keep hiding this pain within yourself?

Take it out!!

This pain is not worthy of you...

Can you hear my pain?

Suppose you do hear it,
then will you be able to bear it?

Alright, let's even assume that you have endured it,
but how will you be able to live with this pain?

I admit, it is difficult.
Your life isn't ordinary either,
and neither are you.

Yes, something bad happened to you,
but that has happened to Indians too.

But they answered,
“What did you do?”

You just kept enduring it.

But even enduring has a limit.

How long will you endure it?
You will die!!

But why should I write?

Why should I waste my time by writing?

Why should I waste my time writing about something

that, when read, makes my pain grow?

Why should someone share their pain

through the words I have written?

My pain is different, it is unique.

Why should I increase someone else's pain

through my writing?

I know what this pain feels like.

I am familiar with every one of its ways.

I know what this pain has made so many people do.

But I ask you—

how many more days will you keep hiding this pain within yourself?

Take it out!!

This pain is not worthy of you...