Do you remember when you felt the blood Gushing through your body You felt it etch into your being All the kindness, courage and love That you thought you could ever feel And your heart sang!
Do you remember how your breath Caught in your throat. The sheer shock Of those emotions rocking you inside You felt so overwhelmed that your tear ducts Felt the strain. You blinked your wet eyes And your heart sang!
You looked straight ahead The wave kept rising in your chest You felt like you were everything That you were meant to be. Your atoms ricocheted With those around you. Nature played A little bit of handball as she caught Your atoms in her hands and passed her own to you And your heart sang!
Do you remember feeling like this was The perfect moment in your time In your space, in your place And everything had come together that day to remind you That your heart was aligned with all That defined you as the happiest version of yourself And oh your heart, it sang!
You don’t remember - not really. Neither do I. I mean I remember the warmth in my being, the love flowing out In waves, in rivers. A oneness with the essence of the world But beyond that, I can’t remember; I can’t evoke the feeling Something has gone awry, something has been lost Along the way But I still see its ghost flitting Vaguely passing before my eyes when I am still But my heart, it doesn’t sing.
Cannons boom, bombs explode The world is the home of war Lieutenants give crisp commands To their soldiers, weary and sore
The tribunal sits in their gilded halls Drinking their whisky tea The senior most is ninety years old The youngest is seventy three
They take pride in stoking this war ‘Tis the battle of righteous men Sending sons and daughters to fight While they cackle in unison
There’s chaos and killing; a dread that is stilling The conflict they’ve wrought makes no sense The old men don’t care, as war trumpets blare Charged by the flourish of their pens
Soon the booming cannons and the bombs Will end their brutal repartee Of slashing and slaying - their bloody tribute paid To their masters across the seas
The dead will be many, they’ll lie in the mud Young soldiers from both sides, together The grief and the pain will be the same In the broken hearts of all the mothers
War is Jang* is война* is Guerre* There is no pretty word for it That can honour or extol or purify The endless sea of blood it lets
As cannons boom, bombs explode And the world crashes and burns The inflection point for humankind Is now at the cusp of no return.
Jang/ война/ Guerre: The word “war” in Urdu, Russian and Frenchrespectively.
When he smiles His mouth curves up a little Just a bit. The teeth don’t show But sometimes a rare glimpse of ivory snow Peeks through. Like weathered pages From a book that has seen the ages That has been loved, and also has Been tossed around in the hands Of those that loved it less Now hiding its parchment yellowness
When she smiles Her cheeks skip up, joining hands With the crow’s feet at the corners Of her eyes. Hands and feet Join together in a wreathe Its flowers have been abloom a while Many now wear waning smiles Just a few are waxing still Of bountiful life taking their fill
When they look at each other He and she And they smile for all the world to see The mouths, the noses and the cheeks The enamel pearls, the crow’s feet All fade away as eyes light up Two sets of windows brighten up Spangled pathways to twin souls The radiant smiles reach deep inside To gently touch two pages bright Of a love story so new, yet old
I see her sitting under the tree Dignified and serene even as she is encircled In the cumbersome arms of poverty. Destitution has cloaked her for many years From head to toe it has persevered. But still There are nuances of grace and light; Of a decorum that has bested the blight.
Sparse hair is pulled back into a little knot Threadbare clothes are mended and clean Calloused feet wear leather sandals Thousands of steps etched into their seams. She sits there solitary and separate Her expression is one of learned abjection As she labours on in her enterprise To live another day, to go on, to survive.
But every so often, when there is a lull In the cresting and falling human swell Where she sits, under the leafy canopy The wretchedness leaves her face And in its place Shines a serene and quiet majesty A poise, a stateliness Quietly they still linger in her being. Even as she sits under the tree To beseech, to plead, to request I can still see the queen.
I look ahead, scan the horizon The sun is just rising, brightening The world around me I feel nature’s potency run through my veins With all its might Each muscle and each tendon tightening I am ready for flight
My feathers gleam, I spread my wings I catch a current of air as it sings I lift off and soar At one with the world around me I climb higher and higher I listen to the hum of the stratosphere I can hear the cosmic choir
I glide, I soar, I sail, I fly In the startling blue of a cloudless sky I dip, I climb, I plunge, I rise I shoot ahead as the crow flies I whoop in the throes of sublime joy CRACK! I feel the fragments of lead Of human sport. I plummet to my death
I’m happy today, I can feel it inside The laugh in my belly comes bubbling outside I feel a strange lightness like I have grown wings Yesterday’s burdens seem like faded old things
I look in the mirror while fixing my hair I smile to myself, my reflection smiles back I giggle aloud, my twin does the same We go back and forth playing that funny game
With my bag on my shoulder I step outside I walk to the tree with the dappled sunlight There I stand for a while to glance at the world As the brightness of spirit around me unfurls
Two dogs amble on, happy kings of the street A little old lady dips in her bag for a treat The trio stand out like a painting of love Surrounded by kindness, lit up from above
The resident Tuk Tuk is parked in the lane Its sarong-clad driver is humming away A handheld mirror is clutched in one hand The other is smoothing an errant strand
He looks at me, smiles and says “Good morning” “Where to today? The usual madam?” I grin back as I sit down on the seat Sandwiched between photos of pedicured feet!
I arrive at my destination feeling gleeful and light I’m still warmly cloaked in the joyful vibe Yes! I’m happy today, it’s been pouring right out The smile on my lips has been hard to wipe out.
I’m sitting today at a new cafe They bring me my tea in a beautiful cup And a saucer to match. I catch My breath. It reminds me so much Of the tea set so loved And cared for by your beautiful hands Of the cups of tea that were sipped In your company, by smiling lips Listening to a conversation Laughing at a joke And your own tinkling laugh I remember it, I choke
I remember so many late afternoons Like the one that just pierced my heart So many memories, tender and raw Memories that flood in and then depart Replaced by others, thronging along … Like the one of you putting an earring on My ear where the flesh always fused Making it an adventure, a laugh a ruse Or when you bit into an elephant’s ear The pastry, the confection, the palmier! The chemo still filling your vital veins Dripping its disease-numbing potion within You still grinned, your face came alight You kept all the simple joys alive And then I’m assailed by another memory Of another cafe where you and I had tea You sipped it slowly with your eyes closed Your beautiful face in gentle repose You smiled and I heard a contented sigh And that smile from your lips reached your twinkling eyes …
Today, I’m sitting at a new cafe But in my mind I’m with you on all those precious days.
“I love you and only you You fill my heart in every way I will be but a shell if you Call it quits and leave me some day” Said the man with the twisted lips As he held her close, hands on her hips He’d done this a lot and then changed gears The words felt absurd even to his own ears.
She looked into eyes that were gleaming with fire Was it hope, was it love, was it lustful desire? The three entities then followed behind As she walked into the space of her heart and her mind There she sat them down, the judicious sleuth And looked into their faces now lit up with truth Hope sat there wilted, there was hardly a trace Of sincerity and faith on its mottled face Love was like a wraith of its radiant self Like old dust that had drifted off of the shelf Smouldering away in the furthest corner With sly little tentacles sat covetous Desire It looked at her trying to hide its true hues But in the light of the soul that was hard to do
She lifted the heavy hands from her hips Bestowed a smile from her beautiful lips “I suppose I should say a heartfelt thank you But I won’t, those words, they just don’t ring true”.
Mahvash Mohtadullah 