What can one tell you, such is the state of this dust that despite being conscious, it is drifting away with the wind.

Here the poet plays delightfully on his pen-name, 'Turab', which literally means dust or earth. He captures a tender paradox of the human condition in love: being fully conscious and aware of everything, yet completely helpless, drifting wherever the gusts of passion or fate carry him. It paints the poignant picture of a lover who clearly witnesses his own unraveling, unable and perhaps unwilling to resist the wind.