In Delhi's lanes where spices blend,
I found a tale that has no end.
A girl named Aisha, young and free,
Like wind, she asked, 'How can you confine me? '
In Nizamuddin's sacred space,
She found her soul's eternal grace.
With Pir Fakirs, her spirit soared,
In Qawwalis, her heart found its chord.
Life's trials came, as they often do,
Her mother ill, her joys so few.
Yet in her heart, a melody,
A Sufi hymn of how to be free.
A Fakir spoke, 'Your path's been cleared,
In depths of soul, your pearls appeared.'
A scholarship, a chance to find,
The Sufi grace that's so divine.
She studied deep, returned anew,
A Fakir now, her spirit flew.
In ups and downs, her soul found peace,
With Sufi wisdom, all woes cease.
So here I say, to all who hear,
Like wind, we're free, there's naught to fear.
In Delhi's heart, Aisha's tale unfurls,
A beacon for the seekers of the world.
I am the wind, how will you confine me?
In Sufi grace, we find our spree,
Like wind, like Aisha, forever free
I love your poem about this character set in Delhi. I have made it a favorite. One day I would really love to go to India.
Free like a wind! That is why wind is called "ANILA" in Sanskrit, meaning The Unstoppable, One Who Never Stops.. Great art, Sumita. You have set the story in Delhi, one of most favourite places, lived there pretty long..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful poem. In Fakir's grace we find freedom.