Saturday, August 27, 2011

Make me a poet, tonight !

O mother, do you realise that
I have never been a lover of isolation
Nor am I a good cook.
In fear of the nameless silence
I strike the utensils and sleep no more.
Do you remember that noise?
When I was hopelessly preparing tea
And the entire kitchen appeared to disregard me.

Don’t keep me away
For as long as I say
That I can manage to stay
Though the world has enough inventions
To keep my emotions at bay
But nothing can be as treasured
As you mother, even if i don’t say!

The night is the blackest of all
The rain is a reminder of my great fall
Solitude would sit often besides me
It practices a lullaby at the edge of my pencil
And we would sing a song of separation until
The fairy tales, the lullaby and my blank verses
Appear abstract; often incomplete and full of curses

Maa, you must know
I need a presence of god in my life
Neither because I need fear to make him exist
Nor because he is the object of worship
But because I believe in love
Because I see an imperfect god in you
And because your presence makes sense
Whereas god is just a beautiful idea

Come back soon
As perfect as you went away
And i will dance with Shahid*, tonight
For he once whispered to me
My mother is my poem.
And it’s forever the mind which understands
That those Rooms are never finished
Where a poet muses about his heart.

Shahid* - Agha Shahid Ali

© Nidhi Sharma


Creative Commons License
Poet Of Minutes** by Nidhi Sharma is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 2.5 India License.
Based on a work at