(yolk of the sun
broke over the city,
a careless angel weeps)
the jaundiced sky has slept,
cool sweat shines its brow,
the mourners have left,
the vacant tents blow.
(today there is no air in the city,
only some uncountable sighs)
workers won’t untie these bamboos
this is an eternal vigil
.
.
.
do you remember hearing me say?
last night on shores of a dreamy bay?
I will not let our love become a habit
or be a whore to fate’s drab writ
that the two candles in your eyes
forever melt the dreary skies
as your dreams into mine forever spill
with frozen time stiller than still
I hear only the soft flow of this stream
as distant stars on your palms gleam
miracle by miracle nature persists
every moment an agent of God spits
evil and suffering on a trembling rock
angels laugh and sheepishly mock
the whole plan of creation and birth
redeem!, redeem!, redemption on earth!
is the slogan they chant between prayers
secretly wishing Master to peel the layers
from the stinking onion of His making
redeem!, redeem!, they whisper, shaking
the Master resides in a palace of mirrors
on His questions, every corner shivers
‘mirrors, mirrors Who is the strongest of all?
did not the fairest of My creation fall?’
my love I can read your thought
I speak more in sleep than I ought
but beyond that frail border of sleep
sweetest of all fruits I reap
where your oceans and my seas
merge to become cosmic melodies
.
.
.
Tujhay nahin pataa
Tujhay nahin pataa
Tujhay nahin pataa
Nahin pataa
Nahin pataa
Tujhay Nahin pataa
Surkh tou sirf ek aks hai
Teri dharkan sirf ek raqs hai
Teri jhuki hui gardan narkh hai
Aazaadi boht hee talkh hai
Sach tou sirf ek harf hai
Jhoot tou aala-zarf hai
Tera seena bhi tou barf hai
Aur Sard lahu tera sharf hai
Khoon rangay haath har tarf hain
Aur Uth’tay Haath bar tarf hain
Tujhay nahin pataa
Tujhay nahin pataa
Tujhay nahin pataa
Nahin pataa
Nahin pataa
Tujhay nahin pataa
.
.
.
The following poem is written in Roman Sindhi. Among my ever-increasing list of inadequacies is my failure to write Sindhi in Arabic script. May be I will ask someone to write it for me.
may deehnh pehnjay goongay dosta saan milyum
safaa eeniye dyarn kehn imtihaana saan milyum
jadhein sadyo ho the maastar ho
roohun je ranga jo daactar ho
nandhan wadan kaan sawaal puchay
warran pakhin kaan jawaab puchay
ko waando farishto lafza phurray wyas
suhnron mithro saaz phurray wyas
haaren bhi eehyo ohro hee aaa
wazan mein ohro goro hee aaa
bus umir ka pehryun porho aaa
dyarn vecharo mando ghoro aaa
haaren ghareen zibaan hathan mein tas
mirayee thori ghareen akhin mein tas
anyaan wethum ta bus sawaal puchayen
na maani paarin, na ka chahn puchayeen
lockdown mein toun cha tho parhein?
band bhittin mein cha tho karein?
Paitu bharyal aaa ta baita tou parhaan
Bukha kaanhein ta geeta tou parhan
Khaali paita tay marx parhaan haan
Ya wari Allah jo ko kitaab parhaan haan
Sindhi achay haan ta shah sahb parhaan haan
Ya wari shaikh ayaaz parhaan haan
Bukha kaanhein ta intizar tou kayaan
Hujay haan ta beqaraar hujaan haan
Wetho sadyo deehnh saah tou kharaan
Bukha hujay tay aasmaan kharaan haan
Soohnra po bhi daadhi masti aaa
Wisraan tou hiya mudandar basti aaa
Virus tou khaayay gothan jaa gotha
Po chahin ma tray maaiyun ayen ghota
Jais tayeen aahay glaas bharyal
Matho aa maahrun jo sitaaran mein milyal
Ayen jo haiday chulho thyo band
Po dis jo saeen maarhun ja dand
Hik may jay goshta mein hoonda
Maarhun ghat, sirf goshtu hee hoonda
Chad inha kay mee ka gaal kayaon
Poyen deehan ji kaa gaal kayaon
Aado eendarn sijja saffa pooryala inn
Poyan sijjan ji kaa gaal kayaon
Aado ta huwayeen kay nabi na eenda
Poyan nabin jyun gaalhyun kayaon
Pehnjay hathan ssan oohay hee gaalhyun mudhaye
Samndra ayen khudaun jyun gaalhyun mudhaye
.
.
.
did you hear?
suddenly the earth is flat
come along now, let us not wait
neither I nor you are God enough
to do it alone, it is rough
there is a short window of time
the watchmaker has lost his dime
borrow my vision, mingle it with yours
let us go towards the edge and claim what is ours
come along now, this is not a dream
let us wade through this fleshy stream
for once there are discreet corners
to this existence, let us choose our harbours
over there beyond the last river
where the consciousness does not shiver
our hearts will not tremble
our fates will not gamble
we will etch our destiny however we want
there are no skills for any God to flaunt
no histories will weigh us down
no mysteries will make us frown
doubts we will never have
belief is buried in a mass grave
come along now, my sinless Eve
it’s a sin to think this eve
suddenly the earth is not a sphere
did you not hear?
.
.
.
Though edna st Vincent millay
proudly declares
That beauty is not enough,
Pity, not a thought she spares
For my poor dwellers
(save the fat rich in their lairs)
For a child born in my urban womb
Sight of true daughters of spring is rare
I have borne my husbands ugly sons
Sons named Dust Smoke and Heat
My children gape at the name of spring
In lovely english poems
They cannot name any flower
All they know of floral beauty
Comes from announcements of spring
In advertisements for lawn clothes
Which alas are my only gardens
these big billboards of spring collections,
Sad harbingers of a missing season
What must I expect from their imagination then?
Will my children write odes to me
Inspired by the papery prints of lawn suits?
Alas, Alas
The world is not fair
.
.
.
*Poet’s note: I fucking hate the lawn ads
Ab kay tum say ishq ho chuka
Tou mein yeh samjha hun
Kay Mein nay jiyya hai
Waisay tou kuch nahin kiya hai
Lekin agar aakhri lamhon
Ki larazti hui fursat mein sochoon
Tou mein boht khush hun
Tumhaaray chehray ko apnay qareeb paakar
Iss chehray pay pari jhuriyon
Ka zimmedar main sahi
Magar meri jaan uss waqt ki kasam
Jab tumhein yaqeen tha
Kay mein tumhein chahta hun
Meri zindagi ka maqsad
Khud,Khuda,Khudai
Kaam aur kamaai,
Kabhi na thay,
Sirf tum thee.
Iss waqt
Meray lafzon ki munafiqat
Mujh pay Ayaan nahin
Meray Shaoor mein iss waqt
Sirf tum ho, mein bhi nahin.
Ab kay jab hamaray ishq ka
Aakhri zeena aa pohncha hai
Tumhain aakhri baar maayoos kerta hun
Tum say pehlay wisaal kerta hun
.
.
.
Barron nay samjhaya
Kay jo cheez samajh mein na aanay waali ho
Uss kay baaray mein bayaan mat do
Tumhari aankh woh nahin dekh sakti
Jis kay liyey woh na bani ho
Chhoonay kay maamlay mein tumhari pohnch
Kuch mawaad tak mahdood hai
Aur kitna suno gay kaanon say
Choon chaan say zyaada qaabliat nahin tumhari
Mareekh ki gehraiyon mein phat’tay huay
Aatish-fishaaon ki badboo nahin soongh saktay tum
Aao dekho yeh phool kitnay khoobsurat hain
In daryaaon ko taqseem hota dekho
Dekho kaisay na-honay say honay mein
Tabdeel hojaati hai cheezain
Yeh jaadoo nahin, qudrat hai qudrat
Dekho zara tumhari aankh ka taaraa
Kaisi shandaar barfeeli shaakein hain iss mein
Titliyon kay rang dekho
Apnay dil mein jaagi umang dekho
Aadhi khuli khirki say hawaa ko guzartay suno
Suno tou sahi, in parindo kay raag,
Apni zibaan pay ghuroor kernay waalay
Issi zibaan ko sun lo
Yeh kehtay kehtay Barron nay dohraya
Kay jo cheez samajh mein na aanay wali ho
Uss kay baaray mein sochna chor do
Issi liyey main nay
Khuda kay baaray mein sochna chor diya
.
.
.
Kal raat apnay khwaab mein
Jab tum nay aaeenay mein aankhein kholeen,
Tou inhain khaali paaya
Guzar ker uss aaeenay kay so darwaazon say
Jab tum nay murr ker dekha,
Tou apnay saaye ko pathar paaya
Ussi lamhay do siyaah parinday
Jin kay pankhon say tapakta hua kaala khoon
Tumhara mujasmay-numa saaye ko
Bhigota hua tumharay dil mein dorta aaya,
Tumhary jism kee shaakhon pay aa bethay
Aur woh nohay parhnay lagay jo uss waqt
Khuda kay kaanon mein bajtay thay
Jab uss nay tumhain pehli dafa banaya
Pehli dafa tumhain darr kee boo aayee
Tum, jis ka wujood khof say bana tha, nay
Ye jaana kay darr kee boo sha’oor kay jaltay
Huay jism kee see hai yaa phir uss diyay
Kay bujhnay ki jo khuda nay aakhri lamhay
Kay liyay rakha hai, abhi jalaa, abhi bujhaya
.
.
.
it was said the world has stopped
in fear and awe of the microbe
but capital’s engine’s roars
were muffled, not silenced
silenced enough though to hear
the wind blow and
observe the flower grow
in the working hours
as we worked from home
polishing capital’s shoes
but this time with less blues
for we saw the sky reflected
in capital’s shining shoes
one such day as I spoke
to humans from distant places,
as far away as kohkaaf
through the magic window
on my desk
I read their faces
against the blurred backgrounds
(capital respects our right
to remain private
in our homes)
I saw faded photographs
of their families in frames,
I saw hazy boat in a bottle
Which seemed to me exactly
Like those boats which I see
(or imagine)
Far away in the water
At seaview in Karachi;
I saw the European sun
reflected in their skin
all this while we talked
about important and urgent things,
an expert of important things
wanted to show us
a great tool she had designed
we waited for her,
humans from three continents
all silent, brooding, and expectant,
when the moment came,
a moment certainly not of those
which Marx spoke of
when he said
moments are the elements of profit:
the sparrows on my windowsill
muttered things of secret beauty
to which a European robin
replied with exquisite grace
as if they were long lost friends
finally meeting in a virtual fair
the moment was lost in cyber air
the expert went on and on
and we sang lullabies to
capital
from home
.
.
.
Sights Insights 