Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Oh, to be in Sialkot

To be in Sialkot
And write like Faiz
About knees that caress each other
Hearts that pound
While alcohol flows as freely as her hair in the open air kitchen
Fraught with tension
In which she must re-build her life

She kneads the dough, serves rotis
Which she serves with a smile

All I want to tell her is
There is a world outside
And she will have to oil the hinges of the doors
Step out of her grandfather's haveli
Or else the road will be empty
With no one to show her the way

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