Hazrat Nizammuddin Poem by Sumita Jetley

In Delhi's heart, where whispers float and blend,
Aarav Khan seeks silence, wisdom, a friend.
Amidst the dargah's peace, his soul to mend,
A sanctuary of serenity, where time does bend.

Ancient bench his throne, notebook in hand,
Capturing the essence of this sacred land.
The city's clamor fades at command,
In Nizamuddin's grace, he takes his stand.

The courtyard breathes a mosaic life,
With prayers and hopes amidst the strife.
A woman's wish, a child's laughter, rife,
A man's tears, cutting through like a knife.

Aarav writes, his pen a dancing flame,
Of souls around, each with a name.
Seeking the divine, their aims the same,
In Sufism's path, they find their claim.

As night descends, qawwals sing,
Their voices to the heavens, they fling.
Aarav's heart with theirs does ring,
In unity, their souls take wing.

The dargah, under moon's soft gaze,
Whispers of peace, through the maze.
Aarav leaves, his heart ablaze,
With words of serenity, his voice to raise.

In ancient texts, in prayers said,
In melodies, in the paths we tread,
Aarav finds the peace, his spirit fed,
A journey within, to where he's led.

This poem, a tale of search and find,
Of Aarav Khan, with enlightened mind.
In Nizamuddin's embrace, he's intertwined,
A story of peace, with the divine aligned.