The Worlds Embrace

I will die, we all die,
Life is not as prominent as death,
In life, rarely is a promise kept,
So live as a traveller,
On the banks of this river,
As it flows below your feet.

Live as a stranger,
Touching hearts before you leave,
Leaving parts of you,
In every place, on every broken corner,
And in every Saffron field,
Because the olive branch,
Still extends its arms to hold your tears.

The autumn air is always moist,
The spring soil always sprinkled with love,
That falls from the skies,
Unexpectedly allowing the world to grow,
It holds us in a strong embrace,
It’s tenderness coated in melancholy,
It is sad too, like me.

Reflected in this cup of nun chai,
Or on the horizon I could never see,
Past the peaks of home,
Or in the beaches of Gaza,
That I’ve never walked,
But I have tasted, in every breath,
Because they breathe resistance, like me.

And I will die, we all die,
But not before I have lived,
Because the top right chamber of my heart,
Is already buried in Jabaliya Refugee Camp,
Northern Gaza,
With the dreams of an orphan child,
And the top left, I left that in a village,
Left of the LoC, between my dhadha ji’s mango tree,
And that beautiful peak over in the east.

I was born a traveller,
Embraced by the world,
As another lonely hearted poet,
Walking upstream in a river,
Dreaming that it’s the Jhelum,
Flowing through Srinagar,
In the land of the poets,
And the brave,
I too had come out to write,
These ghazals in the rain…

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