The Jinn Mama Of The Roadside Tea-Stall Poem by Tahmin Alam Tahmin

Gather around, children,
Sit close, and listen well.

The wind starts to blow wildly,
Leaping through the leaves of giant trees.
The electricity went out long ago,
Only the hurricane lamp flickers in the dark,
While the crescent moon hides behind the clouds.
A chilling night, filled with deep mysteries,
Fear and excitement dance in the children's eyes,
As they long eagerly for my tale to unfold,
I summon my muse with solemn reverence,
To guide my tale with utmost elegance.

It was an ordinary night until
The extraordinary happened.
Fate turned cruel at the worst hour!
On my way home, my miserable bike broke down,
Stranded, I searched help everywhere, but to no avail.
I pranced about the road in a frenzy,
Cursing my luck and mumbling prayers.
With dangers lurking & taunting me,
I gasped for breath to tackle the eeriness.
Then, through the darkness, I stumbled upon a light—
A roadside tea stall, resting a few feet away.
With newfound hope, I walked towards it.
A well-dressed man, perhaps in his fifties, greeted me,
Draped in an unusually long white Panjabi.
His face shimmered with a celestial light,
His beard, pitch-black, groomed to perfection.
I sought refuge in him, releasing my woes,
With a gentle nod, he offered me a cup of tea,
And calmly asked me to test the bike when I was done.

It's nothing short of a miracle!
My bike revived to life, as if by magic!
A miracle, a miracle, a miracle!
With joy, I turned to thank the noble person—
But what in the world is this?
Both he and the tea stall had vanished into thin air!
Nothing. No sign. No retor
Empty, silent roads lie ahead,
Where had he gone? Who was he?
I wandered relentlessly in my own mind,
Trying to embrace the perplexing truth.

Decades have passed since that night.
Yet the memory clings to me, vividly.
I made it home, safe in body but haunted in spirit,
Unable to shake the events of that eerie encounter.
The children let out heavy breaths of astonishment,
Scared—clinging to each other's hands.
I finish my tale, whispering a final reverence
For my muse, and for the 'Jinn Mama',
Who stands in the shadows, smiling amorously.