I have lost the rituals Of faith. But my devotion has Become stronger. I no longer Am afraid or confused by questions that Whirl around in my head Never to be brought into existence Their very substance damning Pounding, hammering a path to (h)elsewhere I now wear a cloak around My shoulders. It holds a super power A texture all its own. When I’m alone It reminds me of who I am It fosters my introspection It champions who I want to be And then I feel No other burden of pretense Or suspense No fear of consequence For being so much more And ritualizing less I have no dire need to find my Hallowed steed to gallop on with Me holding on, bound for paradise This life, this blessed life is mine To treat with such passion Such tenderness, that earth Our beautiful earth Itself becomes the Eden I seek My paradise is under my own feet.
How long has it gone on for? I have lost count of the days and the months And the number of times Facts and fiction have been combined Made to stand hand in hand By the gentiles that stain these lands Caricaturizing, miming scenes Of zealotry and genocide
I have lost count Of the number of hospitals bombed Ruins atop tunnels where the Khamas abound And the aid workers killed Unidentified dangrerous women and men And the journalists sniped With their arsenal of 1984 daggers and knives And the doctors shot With nitroglycerin bombs hidden in their surgical gowns And the men raped in prisons With propagandist lore stuffed up their intestines And the women maimed Their bellies heavy with terrorist babes And the children killed Starved and stilled Their sinful blood spilled On the promised land
How long before this evil doth cease How long before the chosen ones can finally live in peace?
Blamed again and again for massacres We have no clue of, our proxy war Of 40 years ago is still biting us in the bum ‘Fo-Fum - this beast at least Does not have the bite of the ‘other-man’ With its depraved ideology Hijacking faith and humanity Bankrolling them into human bombs Boom! There goes another one Creating martyrs of civilians We protest, we didn’t do it They say we did, you see Another ethos, dark and evil has floated in upon the sea And so they insist it is us Nurturing terrorists underground and above Guns blazing, egos inflating Up up to the constellation Of ISRO satellites
But what is this?
3, 4, 5, 6 jets down - not ours We shook them right out of their stars - their 5 out of 5 on Amazon Now they’re raging like bulls in a ring We’re meme-ing and gif-ing like comedy kings I’m laughing at both A little harder at the misplaced ire Full of apocalyptic brimstone and fire
But here it is
War is not what any of us need Good sense, forebearance, lucidity Is the need of the hour and I want to believe In this ideology even as I Pin a little pin of green and white Crescent moon and star shining bright Onto my beating heart full of pride
Because when all’s said and done
Between neighbours who live side by side Sharing a culture old as time Huddled albeit over our nuclear buttons War really is just not an option.
Life is like a box of chocolates Someone once said Sometimes you get The caramel-drenched centres That melt in the mouth Like liquid satin, swishing on your tongue In silky, sweet tones Caressing your taste buds until Languidly, unhurriedly They lavish one last nectarous kiss Before disappearing In ambrosial bliss Down the tunnel of your throat
At others it’s the bitterness of a centre That’s dark - 90% cacao That unleashes on your tongue Spearing, laughing, spearing again Inflicting a bitter-sweet pain Just enough for you to stop and think To wonder if this is good A revelation Of taste, an experience That’s bold, distinct To recall, to remember when You’re short on inspiration Or whether in fact It is an assault no less On the mundaneness The safeness On your everydayness Plodding on your tongue Like a thug that’s sold His essence, his soul To the gods of gastronomic Absurdity and virulence
I look back, the rhyme is longer For the bitterness that lingers In the mouth; but I have also realized That my taste buds have conspired With my mind to bind Most of the time To memories that are wholesome Sugared, caramelised So even when I pick A chocolate from life’s mix I hope for the sweetness The toffiness, the bliss But I also sit in readiness For the wave of bitterness That sometimes takes me in its grip But always itinerant Shifting, moving on And so I too go on Savouring Every piece, never wavering From the cholocate box of life.
For my beloved sister who is swept in the constant tides of farewells and then meeting-again-for-too-short-a-while. And for all the other parents whose fledglings have taken wing, may you continue to find your joy and serenity.
They are the quickening parts of you That you bestow upon the world Beings that become other people Independent. Adult Then there’s the anxiety and tumult Of letting them go From the safe radius of the home From the proximity of your everyday touch From the protective circle of your sinewy arms Each muscle a testament To years of being superhuman A perpetual hero, a champion And now you also have Your own growing pains to bear Of them not being there As they make their start In places you can’t be Coming back to rest To lay down tired heads On other pillows, other beds Their childhood rooms Stirring softly with their scents But my dearest, don’t despair These aches pass, they morph They bloom into other things A kinship deep as all the seas A bond of care that is more even-keeled Conversations, confidences, the sharing of dreams
They are out there now Let them live and love With all their might You’ve done your part They know the tree The orchard, the seeds That they’ve sprung from Now let them go Let your fluttering, bursting heart Give them wings to fly Fly, fly, up, up high Into the vastness of the sky Let them whoop with joy Let them go Where the soul moves them Out into the brilliant world To take a little bit of it Make it their own Let them imprint it With their hearts and their minds Let them be quirky, let them be kind Let them be funny, let them be full Of passion, of hope, of tenderness Let them roar and cheer and also tear up At life’s beauty, excitement, its bruises and cuts Let them show all their own shades of loveliness Let them add to the shimmering throng Of all that’s vital, new and strong
And you, dear beloved With your empty nest Now filled with books Or paints or pets You who have begotten them Stand fast and true and wise Behind them. Cheer them on As they sing their own songs In the great choir of life.
The amalthas wears its yellow cape again I’m reminded of beautiful, bountiful things The gulmohar too dons its fiery crown The summer breeze feels cool on the skin
I sit here and watch nature frolic around me The fullness of life in her every glance She whispers of tender young roots in the earth Of new leaves on the banyan sashaying in a dance
I sit and I watch this surfeit of life And I hold my breath as I take it all in There’s a feeling inside, a low murmuring Telling me that summer will too soon end again
And then …
Where will I look for the amalthas bowers And the russet blooms of the flamboyant tree? Where will I seek those warm golden hours Cooled by the kiss of the summertime breeze?
My throat feels like cardboard My eyes are a-brim My breath comes in tatters I’m loosing my grip
But the amalthas shimmers, she pulsates with joy And the gulmohar bobs her flame-coloured head They’re humming of moments immersing me now No one, they sing, has seen forever yet
So hear me my universe, my cosmos of love Help me to ground myself here somehow Let me find my today, let me be touched Grateful and gladdened by the here and now.
I hope, I hope That you find Your version of paradise With babbling milky streams Sweetened with honey Dripping from trees There are no bees (They sting you see) In a vaulted other world May it be your vision unfurled
But I have this feeling Visceral, profound This tug of awareness In my gut That the body so righteous And ritual bound Has lost touch With the heart and the spine They lie dormant intertwined In the periphery Of the small intestine
But that’s just me I’m not saintly Not a bit, no not a whit But I have learnt to be a friend I now know how to sit With what lies deep within My spine, my gut and my heart That trio beating a path Clear and bright That despite Myopic eyes I can see and I can ply So I can make this very life My living, breathing paradise
And so I hope that you too At some blessed point Find your heaven as it awaits With its resplendent pearly gates I hope that you Can grasp that thread That quickening, vital line That dangles down Into mosques and synagogues And altars divine Leading you to paradise.
They speak and words Fumble from mouths That wish that they Were speaking out Of something else Of the obvious
It has to be It has to be
Humanity has otherwise Lost its wings Its feathers shorn By barbs and stings From treacherous planes Rockets blazing By the ugly might Of vetoing Might it be Those hearts still beat To other things Resembling, faintly even An evenness, a balancing Of fickle acts, good intentions For a time, lost in a storm Treacherous, unsteadying
They speak and words Come stumbling out Of throats that lie In tender flesh Fleshing out sweeter things Like hearts that throb On other planes And blood that sings Of vital things Could it be those Soul-stirring thoughts Have lost their way In heart’s hollow They pulsate Knock-knocking On its ribs
You tell me I should have known Better than to trust another With tender things Like the blood reveling warm within Sweet imaginings You tell me I should have seen The telltale clues in between The spaces where I had wrapped My heart around someone, rapt In the throes of so much joy I beamed, I glowed for months on end You remind me now again I look at you and I smile Sometimes silence golden and still Is all that is needed to fill The pause waiting to receive Contentions, remonstrations, a speech I let that moment pass me by Bloated with pent up intrigue Silence exquisite, shimmering Now takes me in its calm embrace I had loved with all my heart No regrets, no shame, no blame My quietness golden and still Now safekeeps memories in that space.
Palms together Cradling the chakra of your heart You give of your essence to the world You pray for healthfulness For the fruition of dreams and things The prayer travels from your lips Like a flock of migrating starlings It moves with purpose and with aim Of ardent supplications
It then joins hands with other wraiths With other ghosts in the gold-green ether Of immaculate petitions and pleas That linger in grace fulfilled, replete And also those that hopeful remain Floating like fireflies, lighting the way For other prayers that have lost their way In the cosmos of blessed invocation
Palms together Facing the chakra of my solar plexus I send my own missive into the universe There are no words to this appeal My gut sends the scriptless message for me I’m not quite sure of what it is I close my eyes and soundlessly Wordlessly, I send out my energy To take on what form it will In the maya of our collective dreams.
Mahvash Mohtadullah 