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”.
I saw a man at a street vendor’s today He was engaged in the enterprise of buying fruit His expression was a breath short of displeased He wanted a bargain; he planned to depart with his loot. The air conditioned grocery store was his next stop Where he paid three times as much for some shrivelled carrots. I watched these transactions in the street and the store The poor man got swindled; the rich just made more I watched capitalism play out its gory game But I just watched, my mouth was scotch-taped.
I saw a runner deliver food today To someone in a swanky neighbourhood The man came out, took his food, turned around The rider waited a while, staying where he stood But the man had disappeared into the embrace Of his upmarket condo, his ultra elegant space Discretionary income was for parties and clothes Doling out tips was for mass market folks I watched these Economics of One play out But I just watched, my hands were bound.
I have seen these and many more Unbalanced, unequal, sad acts of trade The shiny big ones always splashed with largesse The small, modest ones always selfishly made. The serendipity of kindness and grace The simplicity of a helping hand Are like ships that we have lost at sea Broken pieces now and then washing up on the sand. I watch these exploits crush and agonise But I just watch, I am paralysed.
I see a woman standing at the traffic light Even in her shabbiness, she’s neat and clean She stands on the wayside wondering For the hundredth time what she is doing on the street. People look at her from their car windows A nonchalant glance up and then away Their psycho-social barriers Comfortingly coming down to save their day From unpleasant pangs of conscience As they niggle at the edges of their minds The world is troubled, their impact small Sometimes it’s just better to be blind.
She looks at the faces in the cars Indifferent, unseeing; wishing her away She clutches the hem of her tattered shirt Picks up the gumption to still walk their way She looks at a lady who hasn’t averted her eyes The shame is too much and she swallows hard Even so, she manages a faint little smile Hoping for kindness, compassion, regard The lady looks up, seeing her for the first time She’s irritated, she’s irked for letting her guard down Beggars, pleaders of various requests Destroy her peace of mind, she frowns.
She waves a dismissive hand at the sight And looks away, she will not lock eyes Maybe the beggar will go to the next car With her chafing, imploring enterprise The woman feels the withering blow As she hurriedly backs away from the car The wounds in her heart are bleeding anew Everyday there are fewer healing scars She stumbles back onto the foot path Eyes stinging with hopelessness and fatigue This world seems done with the likes of her She too is done with her destiny.
I carry this thing, it sits on my shoulder Some call it a chip; I call it my boulder It gnaws at my insides, it makes for low blows When I’m swirling around in its treacherous throes
I am sometimes deceitful when I feel its weight Dignity and grace I cavalierly leave at the gate If it tells me I’m worth nothing, that I’m wretchedly small I’ll lash out blindly at one and all
I grew up believing this weight that I hold Of inflated egos and machismo bold Is an age old legacy that’s been bestowed From father to son and from son down below.
With time, it has morphed into an ugly avatar Sometimes the pricks of conscience are stark But driven by habit and custom and time I let my massive chip drag me into the grime
I’m weaving this rhyme when I’m feeling lucid And can see the chip: festering and putrid Most times though it pokes me with its manly muscle: I could murder that person who honked at my Honda Vezel!
And so I go blundering and blustering through life Ego in one hand; in the other an invisible knife When my shoulder can’t bear the weight of the chip I unburden, I plot and I rage. I’m insidious.
It was just another day I was going to my cafe I got onto the escalator Inching me up on my north-easterly way
I turned around to the sound Of a straining, hassled parent As he looked at his little one His mildly stern gaze quite apparent
The boy looked away; he was not in the mood To be held back from his play The stairs running up all on their own! What fun to skip around on them all day!
I sensed his bright happy energy Even as his little hand was grasped In restraint; in gentle admonishment Grown-up impatience was writ quite large!
The agitatated parent caught my eye As I took in the scene from five stairs above I smiled; he smiled; something freed up And he looked back down at his little son
He picked him up and kissed his cheek Then up on his shoulders the little boy went The child gave a glorious whoop of joy As on the magical stairway he made his ascent.
I looked up, the special journey was ending I bade it farewell with a skip and a hop The child still grinning chortled with laughter It was just another sweet day out and about.
It’s Strange How some people call all the shots For you and me; on what’s right and what’s not On how we should all live our lives On what we should want to grow and to thrive And we follow them like so many mice The Pied Piper surely leaves us no choice
It’s Strange How some nations are on top of their game And others continually parry insults and blame Some swirl around in their blood, sweat and tears While others race on winds of good cheer And yet we stand by like so many sheep The First World Dream will not let us be
It’s Strange How the spirit of our humanity Has gone into permanent servitude For the battle of egos of the few Losing our grip on what’s right and true And we circle around like so many moths Burning our wings in the flames of their wrath
It’s Strange How hard it has become of late To step out of the comfort of the bell curve Created to kill off the being that’s you Teaching you how you must hate and love And we fight on like so many soldiers sore Thinking one more battle will win us the war
It’s Strange Even as I write these lines A question skips on the edge of my mind No, there are two for misery loves company Who’ll tell me the answers that I seek to find - When did the glow inside me cease to exist? When did Instinct and Courage let go of my wrists?
The Polaris or the North Star is part of Ursa Minor’s tail and is located above the North Pole. Sailors and other people traveling at night have long used Polaris to tell which way is north.
There was once a shiny patch Of seven little stars She was called the Ursa Minor You couldn’t see her from afar
One day Father Chaos Came whooshing on a gale He plucked away the littlest star In Ursa Minor’s tail
The Little Bear felt wonky And then her head, it drooped Ursa Major huffed and puffed Her baby did not look good!
Mother Cosmos felt the pain In Ursa Major’s sighs She floated out the window Of her castle in the sky
“What do we have here now Ursa Minor’s lost a star? Oh skies of blue, that just won’t do! Let’s see now - Here you are!”
With that she waved a kindly hand And opened up her fist And dropped a sheeny shiny star The brilliant Polaris
Ursa Minor looked at her tail As it shone near and far Many a traveller now finds her way In the twinkle of her North Star
Mahvash Mohtadullah 