Cartography

In an age of online maps,

I am enthused

when people ask me

for directions.

Otherwise introvert, 

while giving directions,

I, however,

make it a point that they

fully grasp the dynamics 

of walking to the place,

the mobility of reaching

from multiple perspectives.

First, I make the lanes, bylanes;

corners and turns emerge

through the gestures of my hands,

then, I immerse them

into this invisible space 

so that they comprehend

the way, not as streets, or alleys

but as duration.

Given pen and paper,

I would even draw it for them.

Being lost is an underrated talent 

no more than giving directions is.

Devotion

Inside the house,

a cat pretending to scratch all day.

Outside,

a pack of dogs fake-barking 

till we move out of sight.

Behind the house,

a congregation of birds

chirping violently.

How sublime and miraculous 

is it to realise:

these strays sneaking a look -

assuring themselves,

perhaps to God as well,

that the humans are well-fed.

History Repeats

When a child I was,

I used to be 

terribly afraid of my mother -

healthy and boisterous those days,

so much so that 

half of my childhood was spent

concealing matters she would dislike.

Now that she is old -

frail and ailing these days,

she is scared of me,

so much so that 

a major part of her agedness is spent 

revealing only matters I like.

History definitely does repeat itself -

the only part we can't sift however is,

which part to call the farce and which one tragedy.

Greetings

The sardar watchman, here

in our office,

greets us all in such chaste Arabic 

that one can't help but

trace the etymology of the words

'Assalam-u-alaikum'

to Gurmukhi.

Arabic

Urdu

Punjabi 

Kashmiri

Who knew

Peace would be gaurded 

by so many languages?

that it would be multilingual?

Progressives

The woman selling bangles

draped in a cheap cotton sari 

looked misplaced in their selfie,

clicked just outside the opulent restaurant,

was thence removed from the picture 

using the latest editing technology 

from an expensive phone.

This generation has set down their markers right:

from eradicating poverty and hunger

they prefer erasing people and 

unwanted tan.

That is some progress!

if only of the lowest kind!

A Human Forest

As Winter approaches,

the doors and windows

swell with coldness.

Father says,

the wood shivers

due to heightened moisture,

longs for the Forest,

wishes to retain

its original shape,

as when it was that certain 

type of Tree.

I can agree on this only:

they creak a lot when moved,

just like Humans in every season

sighing, aching and pining for what?

Who could say?

Grief is Memory's Souvenir

Remember that old mound

on which we used to 

burn bonfires as children? 

while ecstatically singing 

'Jum Jum Naar

Az Batwaar' -

in early celebrations 

of the upcoming Sunday,

and all those ones yet to come?

That mound, I hear, is no more:

is flattened and

on it rests a house.

They say a hearth 

stands exactly on

the same spot.

However,

on weekends now

nothing burns there

except happiness.