A storm is unleashed In sheets upon sheets Of pouring rain In a cacophony Pounding the ears Pounding the earth For a while The storm becomes a part of me I listen ā¦ I hear a howl, a primal cry Iām agitated, it feels so familiar I still my breath ā¦ I know that voice Iāve heard it before Finding itself In a tropical downpour As the sky tore open its breast Pouring out its glutted greyness On my world that was floating upon Even tides of peace and rest I heard it then, the banshee scream It swelled upon the torrents that Came down in never ending sheets I heard it then as I hear it now That voice that is screaming inside me
This is for the ladies. Amidst all the funniness abounding in the verse, there is a subtle message of self love and self reliance.
Hereās hoping that we can always read between the literal and figurative noisy lines that may be thrown at us in the name of love. And that our peace of mind and our sense of self worth always supersede other enterprises of the liver (jigar) and the heart!
No offence to my male family, friends and acquaintances - these are truth-telling times!
He said I love you Like I have never loved another I said youāre 48 and youāre still Looking for that perfect other?
Surely youāve felt something in that realm You have walked down lovers lanes Were you perchance arm in arm With your tonic and your gin? And not a woman whom youād consider A partner and a friend No, she was always just a trip A means towards an end Each bedecked your evenings out The āI love yousā that left your lips Were whispered as sweet nothings In between your boozy sips And now you tell me that Youāre in love with me too Except itās not your usual form You donāt know whatās happened to you! Maybe your three-month romances Would extend to five with me But the Shallow Hal* in you, pal Is still waiting to count to three And then your extra special Trademark escape artistry Will take center stage Itāll be the same old page From your book of Love for Free
That day he said I love you Like I have never loved before I said dear boy you wouldnāt know true love If it speared you in your gall bladder
ā¦. and why I am undoubtedly the man of your dreams!ā
* Shallow Hal: A 2001 Hollywood Rom-Com in which Hal, a shallow man who only dates attractive women, falls in love with Rosemary, after being hypnotized to see the inner beauty of women, not knowing that she is obese.
I pick it up, I feel its form I hold it in my hands, the warmth Transfers slowly and I sense The tingle of the words within
I gaze at the lines upon its face I turn it over, my eyes trace The tale it whispers all its own Its beauty hidden, as yet unknown The seeds of intrigue have been sown It invites me in, in subtle tones We follow, I and my intuition On lightning wings, we race in! Another stridently demands that I Feel its spine from end to end And then I oftentimes comply As it tells its story by and by
I leave my existence behind For a while Iām in another life I go on voyages fraught with love With pain, with humor with suspense I journey on through these realms Sometimes laughing sometimes tense And then I will glance again At the portal to the world Iām in Pausing my trip-in words The story wraps itself up, and Iām Whisked back into the world Where Iām dutifully marking time
I feel its form one last time I leave it with a wistful smile That Teller of a myriad tales Waits until I visit it again
* Title inspiration from the novel by Thomas Hardy of the same name
I thought Iād write a poem today For a change, a cheerful one It seems like my prolific poetry Is making me the Queen of Glum
Itās not that I donāt see the beauty The hope and joy that abound In big and small spaces In young and old faces Oh i see it all around!
But I also see lifeās glimmer Fade away, get slowly dimmer In close and distant places In fresh and weathered faces And my own feelings grow grimmer
The angst nudges the bard in me Unlike any rush of triumph or glee The words spill out agonised, enraged In wounded quatrains upon the page (And I have to say!) I feel lighter for the venting spree
So I thought Iād write a poem to tell Whether in fact I am capable Of verse that wonāt assault your tear ducts Or indeed get your adrenaline up (What can I say!) These are the quirks of waxing lyrical
I feel like cobwebs have grown in places Where once there were gleaming surfaces In the sunshiny spaces of my mind Itās getting harder and harder to find The memory of that warm glow I felt when I went about my day It had lived on the side table Near the vase of poppies and the picture frames Now itās gone, lost somewhere I canāt find it in the haze in there
I canāt find the memory of the eagerness That cloaked my every enterprise That memory sat near the poppy vase Now fractured, broken over time
I canāt find the memory of loving so hard That my heart felt like it would burst I couldnāt wipe the smile from my face The cosmos would thrum in my chest and my throat
I canāt find the dream where I ran down a hill And then went soaring up into the sky On wings of quick-silvery lightness Laughing, whooping with pure joy
Now that room of memories in my mind Is shabby, desolate, decayed I sometimes squint beyond the haze Looking for reminders of earlier times But the cobwebs grow in thick wedges Around empty frames with cracked edges.
I woke up today, Iād had ten hours of sleep A mixture of guilt and satisfaction rolled around In my frontal lobe. Yesterday had been Another tsunami of sights and sounds So much activity, so much to process My neurons had scrambled like spooked racehorses With a glass of water, I sat still until I reached in my bag for my bottle of Advil
I finally went to bed, it was 3 am I had to switch off, I had to get to sleep I had to be a part of the human condition I closed my eyes and began counting sheep I lay in the wakeful throes of identifying The multicoloured sheep that went flying Across a rainbow stile that was ten feet high ā¦ Who was I kidding! Wide awake I opened one bright eye
Now when daylight stabs my eyelids with its beams A cosmic alarm clock to wake up to and be spry Even as it prods me in the haziness of my dreams I snooze it three-score times, as I waken by and by The Advil and the sheep remain my special twins One bleats its lullabies, the other stills the din So I go from day to day and from night to night Sometimes itās tumultuous, at others itās alright
A fond and fun tribute to all those who live in close quarters with Money Deols. May the universe keep sending you little kindnesses to make up for the relentlessness of your days š
I had this absolutely delicious dream Of floating amid pocketbooks laced with cream Dollar bills and five thousand notes Were sending their special bouquet up my nose
Morning came and I had to resign Those exquisite dreams to the tides of time But ever the optimist that I am I know Iāll dream of riches again
Today after breakfast I meditated On my bank balance in the United State-es My heart skipped a beat, I had to be cautious But oohhh! All that dough! So Expialidocious!
For lunch I had a sandwich and a coke My mind wandered into another nook Yes it was lined up and down with money bags I was so overcome I almost gagged
Tea was a peaceful affair as the day waned As I dipped in a biscuit my thoughts roamed again My prime real estate and other things like it Made each sip sweeter, each bite iconic
By dinner time the perfection of my day Was marred only by the distance that lay Between all my riches and my two hands That lovely bond only wealth connoisseurs understand
My prayers were modest as they always are: God please donāt ever take me far From my belovedās legally tender embrace I bow to you, I request your benevolent grace
I then lay me down for another night Of gilded dreams and green backed sights I slowly drift off on precious wings Made of savings certificates and treasury bills
I walk out gaily, dressed like a queen I bump into my neighbour, the virulent Sameen Her face already garbed in a smug smile She says āWhere to Maha? So dressed to kill?ā I laugh loudly, her smile falters a bit āJust to the market, to get some things A shirt from Sapphire, two thootis* of kheer* A tub of itās-none-of-your-business-my-dear Is there something you would like me to bring?
Iāve been alone these twenty five years But Iāve never been lonely, I decided that early I surmounted my doubts conquered my fears It wasnāt easy, it took a few years It took some lonesomeness, some vanishing acts From folks I called friends and even family who cracked Under the pressure of seeing me break out Of the box built for me by the socially devout But I dug in my heels, I wasnāt going back
Now there are friends and well wishers anew In all that chaff, I found these gems too They give me hope, they let me be me Itās been food for my soul, this honesty I know who I am and who I want to be And itās not a reflection of what society Has plotted and planned for someone that swerves Through fate or design, outside its bell curve Iām contented, eccentric and oh so happy!
* Jawab-e-Shikwa: āShikwaā (Complaint in Urdu) and āJawab-e-Shikwaā (Response to Complaint) are poems written by the poet Mohammad Iqbal. They are known for their lyrical beauty and depth of thought
* Thooti: a small clay saucer in which some Pakistani and Indian desserts are sold in order to keep them cool and fresh
Iām alone ā¦ but Iām not really alone In all the ways that donāt matter That shouldnāt matter, Iām never alone In all the ways that I need someone In all the ways of being human Iām alone. There is no one.
It wasnāt always like this, this lonesomeness It came on slowly as time went by As I transitioned, nay devolved Dislodged from the blessed marital fold From a wife to a wretched divorcee From a daughter to a social deportee
I couldnāt be the woman heād conceptualised His wife to be. Already fantasizing He was in heaven itself, spoilt for choice By the virgins lined up in waiting For him to pick one or four to be his own I got picked first, then I got disowned.
Iāve been alone these twenty years Fading ever more into the background As time trudges on with heavy treads My aura fades, my voice has no sound I tried to talk louder at first to be heard But the booming voices of the world Were louder still, my voice was drowned
Now I sit here alone marking time For when the cosmos sees fit to smile In a new welcome; in a final decline I see people but they see me not They saw me only when I came out Of the box, against the tide of tradition Then there was outrage, there was derision
I donāt go out anymore nor do I Try to be bigger than the box fitted for me I sit in it quietly, patiently Lonely oh so lonely ā¦ but not really In all the ways that shouldnāt matter Im not alone. They all watch me In all the ways that would make my heart sing Iām alone, waiting for the final curtain.
He says theyāre a bunch Of thieves and thugs Who have looted the nation Of its tea and its mugs They took the dregs of the Earl grey too! Those boot-polishing, lily-livered brutes!
They say heās a nut job with lunatic illusions Of grandeur and psuedo-pious, Dipped-in-angel-dust delusions Heās not a statesman, heās an unbridled curse! Our friends across the pond agree thatās what he is This has-been sportsman with his peerni* and tawiz*!
The citizens bewildered and confused Are wondering with whom they should side The saga plays out again, sly and crude Where the nation is taken for a frenzied ride The horse has long since become a lame ass Feeding on national common sense with a side of grass
The Paya* and Diesel Management says a lot The Dharna* Skipper flourishes his āAbsolutely Notā! The repartee continues in savage tones We watch from the relative safety of our homes Then the power goes out and all is dark The slate is wiped clean, we are back at the start
* Peerni: A Muslim holy woman
* Tawiz: An amulet worn for good luck and protection
* Paya: A specialty dish in the subcontinent, the main ingredients are trotters cooked in various spices
She looks at me hesitantly There is something on her mind I feel her turmoil, her anxiety But Iām also aware of the impropriety Of looking straight into her soul Uninvited, I canāt make bold Enough to let her know That I know that something is not right
She looks away, I continue to read The label on the jar of cream in my hands Luxury Hand Lotion it says Lilac and English lavender I am acutely aware of her disquietude Intensely, minutely even as I Focus on the object I cannot put down ā¦ She finally speaks to me with her eyes
Have you ever felt unlike yourself? Like it was not you who was experiencing The pain ā¦ the loss ā¦ the tragedy ā¦ Like you were on the outside, just watching? The jar of cream breaks free from the spell As I face her with all of my being It now sits on the table flat and still As I look at her, letting my heart speak
I know, dearest one ā¦ I can feel your hurt Talk to me, or donāt talk at all Let it all out or just set it free In the secret spaces of your soul Listen to your grief, speak to it too Until the throb recedes a notch or two Then let me in, let me hold you close Let me share your pain as I sit with you
Mahvash Mohtadullah 