For that window seat we used to have fights, One day yours the other day mine.
The excitement and curiosity we had on our faces, Made the other seems as if we won a fight.
That window seat is mine ~ This time no turns, stand up or get into a fight.
That window seat, it made the journey of one, and ugly of the one sitting beside.
Why did the “Window” seat matters? i kept asking myself whenever i saw a brother~sister Fight.
Stand-up she used to shout or get scolded by mom ~ that was the punchline she used to throw at her Bhai (Brother).
But then we grow up, now the brother longs for a fight that says “That window seat is mine”.
As we grew older we gave chances to those who really fights, It’s all yours ~ The window seat is no more mine.
Today, when she sit at the window seat, he sits besides her ~ looking at her face when she looks outside.
Because for him, he sees the universe glowing through her face, And for her, the “The window seat is still mine”.
—- Abdul Gani Punjabi