Fakir & His Mystery Poem by Sumita Jetley

In the heart of ancient Lucknow's embrace,
Where alleys whisper tales of lace and grace,
Stands a haveli, proud and old,
Its stories in whispered echoes told.

In its courtyard, under peepal's shade,
A Sufi in his spiritual serenade,
With fingers dancing on sitar's string,
In morning's light, his melodies sing.

Sunbeams dance through leaves above,
Casting shadows soft as dove.
The air, with jasmine's sweet perfume,
Turns the courtyard into a blooming bloom.

This is his sanctuary, his sacred space,
Where worldly noise finds no trace.
His music, a river flowing free,
In ripples of tranquil serenity.

Each note a prayer, each strum a meditation,
His riyaz, a soulful dedication.
Eyes closed, in bliss, he sways,
Lost in the dawn's first golden rays.

'How wonderful! ' he muses, lost in sound,
Where peace and harmony are found.
His sitar's song, a bridge, a connection,
To a realm of divine affection.

Melodies of love, of longing deep,
Where secrets of the heart seep.
His sitar, not just an instrument, but more,
A voice of the soul that deeply bore.

Through the morning, as time gently flies,
Music blends with the bird's soft cries.
Nature's chorus joins in unity,
In the courtyard of old city's beauty.

Here, in this Lucknow haveli's heart,
Where ancient walls play their part,
The Sufi and his sitar in dialogue deep,
Awake the world from its sleep.

In notes that climb and gently fall,
He finds the greatest peace of all.
In this timeless, serene ballet,
The Sufi and his music forever stay.