Fakir & Him As A Potter Poem by Sumita Jetley

In Rawalpindi's busy lanes, under the setting sun's glow,
A Sufi murshid's wisdom, like a gentle river flows.

Farida, a young soul, burdened by her role,
Found solace in his presence, his teachings made her whole.

"We are but clay utensils, " Master Zafar would say,
"In the hands of the Divine, shaped in a unique way."

Each challenge, every trial, a touch from the Divine,
Molding us with patience, to hold blessings fine.

Farida embraced her work, with a renewed grace,
Saw the Potter's hand, in every challenge she'd face.

From stern Mr. Khalid, to projects big and small,
She grew with every task, standing wise and tall.

The Potter knows His art, shaping vessels with care,
In the heart of Rawalpindi, blessings filled the air.