Skip to main content

Twins

Nīrān


I am fire, she says
And scorches my soul
She looks into my eyes
And the ice in my veins melts
I am fire, she says
And burns my existence
Her whispers are sparks
Her deep sighs, infernos
Her touch turns me to ash
And I fly away with the wind
I am fire, she says
Aatish, Naar, Aag, Nīrān
She says
And whips my heart



Cryonics


We could stay here
Frozen in time
with a single flake of snow,
That would refuse to melt
I would hear you sing
Rumi and Tabraiz
The rain would be music
Your almond eyes
would be candles
We could stay here
frozen in time
holding onto the
fingers of eternity,
I would lean over
Whisper in your ear
And night would never end



--
Nīrān - Arabic for "many fires"

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

In Barely Discernible Darkness

I will trace the Jhelum Across Your back with my fingers In barely discernible darkness It will form a paisley Drawn from the memory of An imagined Kashmir No language spoken by Man or Gods shall be Uttered that night Words will be melded, Sentences molded to form A new language of love The ink, a fine powdered Amethyst, shall dry as We write its grammar The quill tips, fashioned From old bones, shall Burn in its blaze The room will be Full of scorch marks In barely discernible darkness -- Tz
1 comment
Read more

Surviving Kashmir

In Kashmir Tragedy doesn't strike you,  It seeps inside you, like a malignant disease  Slowly making its way to your brain,   Disintegrating your mental faculties,  one by one.  Taking you apart one minute at a time,  making happiness  A sepia picture that grandfather  Put up on the wall of the ancestral house,   That is now just a road,  with every passing car Raising dust over your family tree,  the room where  You once crawled,  teeming with unruly pedestrians,   Grounding your memories to mere dust,  walking by  an invisible house with blue windows and tin sheeted gate. In Kashmir,  tragedy doesn't seek you,  it survives you.
3 comments
Read more

Its Scary

Imran Qayoom would have turned 26 this October, but a CRPF bullet and lathis ensured that the only brother of two sisters would never see another birthday. A black flag, hung over the gate of his under construction home in the Bagh-e-Mehtab area, announces silently that Saturday will mark the 40th day of Imran’s death. Imran died on the 12th August along with 11 others who were victims of police and CRPF firing on that day, the day after authorities had imposed a curfew following the death of Hurriyat leader, Sheikh Abdul Aziz during the ‘Muzzafarbad Chalo’. At the time Imran was shot he was standing on the main road along with his friends watching the CRPF battle with pro-freedom protesters hardly hundred meters from his home. His friend, Suhail who was with Imran at that moment says, “ We were watching the protesters. When suddenly the CRPF started firing from one end of the road to another end. I looked to my side and saw that Imran was covered in blood, but he was still breathing....
3 comments
Read more