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Love Anyone, But Not a Poet!
-
Don't make haste to fall for him
Don't be too quick
Stay a little away ...
Observe him
He's not an easy going man
Every word is a hell to him
Every word ironically hosts him
Coldly and hotly
He's a poet
Frozen to the depths
Fragile to foamy smiles
And burnt into the volcanoes
He's an unusual immensity
Don't write him
Don't read him
Love him never
He's not an easy going man
He's naturally flawed
And unboundly distinct
Emotions surge him
Intellect equips him
He denies god
He loves Him
He has Him
He doesn't have Him
He's a charming chunk
He's an appealing agnostic
Stirred by sounds
Evoked by images
He's a melodious melancholy
He's an inmost agony
A moment of peace
And an endless voyage
Don't fall for him
Do not love a poet
Do not involve in his instincts
He's to him what he's not to others
He's an ever-increasing enigma
He's a wordless wisdom
And a worded vivacity
A letter to lamentation
And a map to misty morns
Sophisticated yet contradictory
Rebel to his own roots
Many incidents are out there
Go there
Speak unto them
Breathe out to the free beach
Walk to wonders
Have a walk towards you
Give eye to your expressions
Lie not to your lips
Envelope the stories of your eyes
Don't be temporary
Be permanent
Permanence isn't outside
It's straight inside you
It's in poetic beats
Be his poetry
Be upon his lips like the lyrics
Sad, serious, and the sighing one
Don't love him in either way
Love yourself to your entirety
Accompany thy own comrade
Have a firm grip upon you
Be you to you
For life advances thru you
Undo him
Be a bit graceless
Do justice to you
Don't fall for him
Don't fall into him
He's cryingly sober at times
Aggressive enough to stab you
Leave him for his sake
Leave him to his leaves
You'll be loved the most
He will sing you out
He'll recite your remnants
He'll run after you
And will reach you on a strange meetway
Wait out for the awaited evening
Wait till the wait too dies down
Hold yourself a little stronger
Hold your heart out forever!
-
Aadil
Still An Undeciphered Script
-
Behind the colors I may hide
In words I may cover myself
In clouds I may be stuffed ...
But the reality is I'm an undone stanza
Truth is I'm no more the real I
I'm either passion or the patience
I'm not wild to my gene
Yes, I'm viral.
Notoriously viral.
Embraced at times.
Left all alone mostly.
Virtuous occasionally and vicious oftentimes
I'm a hidden language
The yet undeciphered script of the Indus
The molded museum of Moen-Jo-Daro
I am a forceful compromise
And an extremely artistic expression
I am lost
Terribly lost.
I wish to meet me again
But this life is too short
The lost me is too historical
I'll have to be historian
I'll have to be archaeologist
I'll have to be sociologist
And I'll have to be the student
Or else I'll be butchered down
For the sake of still unborn streams
I'll have to live
I'll have to live for peace
Humble and honest
Committed and conscious
I'll have to be pragmatic
I'll have to be poetic
The politicized me
The militarized me
I'll have to retrieve me
I'll have to date with dawn
Half-visible views and cropped questions
The search mustn't be static
Let the paintings talk on their
Let's not misinterpret their intensity
Let me not be blurred to buckets
Let me be bluntly questionable
Let me be a question so honest
And a quest so straight
Without any zigzag, let me be me
Let me be cut off from all the cores
Slow, cynical, suspicious, and sober
Let the colors of life have their own lyric
For the life's lamentations light the lanterns
And the lanterns that are limitless to liberty
And the liberty that hugs the whole humanity
-
Aadil
People.
They really misinterpret everything, yes, I repeat, everything. You do not give even a tiny part of you to them, ironically they will still claim to have a PhD upon you and will turn out to be extremely judgmental when it comes to you. They go personal without delving deep into the ins and outs of any issue. Such people are but peopled with sheer extremism.
For them, there's a verse in Qur'an,
"Summum Bukmun Umyunn Fahum La Yarjioon".
-...
Aadil
In the Comradeship of a Book
-
It is not that available; it's over-available
Dragging into depths, it is unbelievable
Shelves followed by shelves ...
Stars and the events, all queue in decency
Chapters chirp in our hearts
And the charts chase our shades
Some of it is unacceptable
Part of it is pretty crazy
The book is wonderfully woven
Smoke its bits to your soul
It refers to the ancient brushes
It honestly flirts with yesternight's yawns
Trying with today is its old habit
Distance to it is distance to us
Like men, it's not that fussy
Air akin to life equips it
It's gorgeously pleasurable
Images of the mind mumble here
Delve into it, I bet, it's slow and appealing
It is touchy to its true lanes
It is pathetically peaceful
The book that challenges our stupidity
The book that invites openness
Follow the directions; drive accordingly
Thrilling! Threatening are its streams
It interestingly annoys at times
Aggressive enough to strike us down
The obnoxious it; the stubborn it
Nothing, amigos, surpasses a book!
-
Aadil
Right Before the Flowy Flutes
-
Passing time stares inside my streets
My curios eyes are fixed upon the shoreline
I wish to put everything inb...
Into the this surging sea, and I might be restful
Rude tides strangely shout at me
They perhaps don't like my presence
Holding diary in my hands, I write their moves
Stylish, straight, and extremely striking
They can't stay away for long
After a while, their life progresses
Intimately they kiss my feet
As if to taste my existence
They and I exchange the worthwhile moments
Because they don't sleep
Accompanying them, I remain awake
I'm welcomed to wash out the dust
This sight is full of stories
Stories that are way deep like the Indian ocean
Stories more ancient than the Indus Civilization
Stories encircling the steps of Sambara
Stories about Sarasvati
Stories of the flows of the Sindhu
Stories yet uninterpreted
I don't remember any projects
Whether the long term or the short terms
I'm into life, and the life resonates in me
Bypassing the breakfast I walk to them
I talk to them and miss out my lunch
In evening, we are but unstoppable discussants
Under the moonlight, we forget of the dinner
Every wave has its own vigor
Each new wave is promise to the sand
Unlike the feminist waves, they're livelier
Unlike the showcased traces, they are all free
Irrespective of the schedules, they meet me
And I meet them cancelling the filthy fucks
Exaggerated accents fall tired
The burning body breaks a little
Day's drum's been beaten
Senses of night too fasten the flow
These tiny treasures save us from all evils
For the watery flutes are home to fluency!
-
Aadil
Borderline Unties My Existence
-
Man-made artifice pushes my heart
I am the humble desert of Thar
The other side too is Thar...
I'm in Sindh
Rajasthan rules over the other side
Music from that side is mine
This side is harmonious to that one
Stepping across is forbidden
I'm a borderline between Hind and the Sindh
How painful is to be divided
My people sigh there
My people are suffocated here
Half of my residents are in light
The other half is deafeningly darkened
Where's my forehead? I don't know
Borders bifurcate my men
Borders wound up my women
The same language smiles there
The same dialect dances here
I'm stuck somewhere between here and there
In fact, I live amidst nowhere
The windy songs and the silent whispers
Springs are separated here
And so are the mysterious autumns
Dunes here record my history
Dunes there document my footsteps
I walk with them; I walk with them all
Most divine is my range
Most profane is my prophecy
I'm abandoned faraway; I'm themed to thirst
Yet I give birth to surpassing tales
I'm the echo of Marvi, I'm the verse of Latif
My genius is crafted to philosophy
My relics are the library of life
I lively engulf every visitor
Voyage to me, they say, is elation
I'm the utmost peace
I'm peahen's dancing step
A valley to mild-eyed mornings
Writers recite me; I stir the poetic spirits
I'm an eternal evening
I'm the marvel of night
I'm the dawn's breeze
My poor folks are fossilized
I weep in waves
The borderline crash the identity ink
Thus the contemporary countries politicize me
And the dreams in deserts too become deserts
Division in the deserts is the worst mindset
My skin opposes the empiredoms
Motionless I remain in continuous protest
But the craze in me remains constant
I'm the entity full of ecstasy
Despite being deserted, I'm an ecstatic whole
Most divine is my range
Most profane is my prophecy
I'm a matchless melody
I am an endless eve
-
Aadil
PC: N. Ali Hingorjo
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