I swam against the currents of thirty lakh rivers,
I walked more than five hundred million square kilometers.
I flew through storms, burned in fire, drenched in rain.
Even the bone-freezing feeling of bitter winter could not stop me,
I ran toward you without end.
But when I finally stood before you,
I saw that the one I had been running toward all this time,
had another person placing upon her the sacred flower of nikah.
How could someone else reach you before I did?
Did you not wait for me?
Or was it the path I was running on that was wrong?