Sameer Gudhate presents the Book Review of Usi Lamhe Ki Khatir by Swadesh

Have you ever read a book that feels less like “reading” and more like sitting with an old friend who speaks in poetry? That’s exactly how I felt with Usi Lamhe Ki Khatir. Right from the very first couplet —

"दैरो-हरम में रहता है या कहीं और, नहीं पताइबादत, आह और दुआ को मालूम है उसका पता"

— I knew I wasn’t just turning pages, I was stepping into a world where spirituality, love, humanity, and philosophy all danced together in perfect rhythm.

Swadesh is no stranger to touching hearts. Having already made a mark with his earlier work आईना, he returns here with a collection of Ashaar and Ghazals that carry the fragrance of the Ganga–Jamuni tehzeeb — that delicate blend of cultures, languages, and traditions. This isn’t poetry that hides in complicated metaphors; it walks right up to you, looks you in the eye, and says what it has to say, with honesty and grace.

Rather than a “story” in the traditional sense, Usi Lamhe Ki Khatir is a tapestry — each thread a moment, a thought, a pang of longing, or a flash of joy. One verse will make you reflect on the fragility of human relationships, another will hold up a mirror to society’s contradictions, and the next will offer a quiet prayer to the divine. It’s the kind of book you can read in one sitting or savour slowly, opening at random and letting a single sher stay with you for days.

Swadesh writes with an ease that’s deceptively simple. His choice of words feels natural — like they were always meant to be in that order — yet they carry depth that makes you pause. There’s a balance here: the lyrical charm of Urdu, the rootedness of Hindi, and the openness of everyday conversation. Sometimes it feels like he’s whispering his thoughts to you over chai; other times, like he’s standing in a mehfil, his voice steady and confident, letting the silence after each couplet do the talking.

The beauty of this collection lies in the way it treats big ideas with a light touch. Love isn’t just romance — it’s sacrifice, understanding, even loss. Faith isn’t about rituals — it’s about connection. Humanity isn’t a lofty ideal — it’s something you practice in small, quiet ways. My personal favourite? The line —

"इश्क़ बहुत ही दिलचस्प खेल है जनाबजो जिताता है, दरअसल वही हारता है" —

a reminder that the truest victories in love often come through surrender.

The collection isn’t rigidly organised, which works in its favour. Life doesn’t follow a neat pattern, and neither do these poems. You might move from a musing on time’s cruelty to a tender reflection on self-discovery, and somehow it all feels connected.

If I had to name the main threads running through this work, they would be love, spirituality, human values, and introspection. But more than the themes, it’s the emotional resonance that lingers. Some verses made me smile knowingly; others hit that tender spot you don’t often show the world. It’s a book that reminds you of things you already know deep down — but in words more beautiful than you could have found yourself.

The biggest strength here is authenticity. You can feel that Swadesh isn’t writing for applause or to chase trends — he’s writing because something deep within him needs to be expressed. His words carry the weight of lived experience, not borrowed sentiment, and that makes every sher and ghazal feel personal, like a page from his own diary.

The only thing I wished for was a short preface from the author, offering a glimpse into where some of these poems were born — a peek behind the curtain into the moments, people, or emotions that inspired them. But even without that, the sense of intimacy is undeniable; the connection between poet and reader feels direct, unfiltered, and real.

more vivid than you remember. It’s a book to keep by your side, to open on quiet mornings or restless nights. If you love poetry that speaks to both the heart and the mind, that doesn’t just decorate words but breathes life into them — this one belongs in your library.

I’d give it a wholehearted 5 stars — not because it’s perfect, but because it’s honest. And in poetry, that’s worth more than perfection.

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