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Tuesday 27 November 2018

Darkness And Pretence

                                                Empty Wishes

Wish I had cold that
Would remove the traces of fleeting warmth
Wish I had agony that
Would numb me from these illusions of joy
Wish I had darkness that 
Would shield me from this blinding light
Wish I had death that 
Would free me from this traitorous life



                                                Musings Before Dawn

Laying in my bed wide awake,
Tossing and turning in my sheets,
Never have I felt so lifeless;
Staring into the hole of emptiness,
That is nowhere close to the void in my chest,
I know my heart is pounding;
But with each beat, all I feel is agony.
Wallowing in the darkness of my mind,
That left me drowning in loneliness,
I wish for dawn to come soon.


                          
                                             Society's Workings

Everything is alluring and perfect on the surface,
For mirages are often bewitching,
But do not look too close into the mirror,
For if you do, there is nothing,
Except for ash and smoke.
A careful smile plastered on the face,
No one wonders who that smile is for, 
The smile that masks doubt and envy;
So carefully put and practiced that, 
No one knows how shallow it is.

                                        
                                                                                         -  Rithika Varam,
                                                                                             MZC 2nd year.
                                                                                             








Saturday 3 November 2018

"When She Spoke", a Spoken Word Poem by Asfiya Khanam



"When She Spoke"  was first performed by Asfiya, at the Slam Poetry Evening by the US Consulate, Hyderabad, August 24, 2018





She was fire, she was light
Her writings were her might 
No,no,no she was not blessed with mythical eyes
But an ordinary girl, plump with metaphors and smiles



She had her heart flowing from a deep blue cup

She also fell but always stood up
She desired to express but was scared of being judged
She wrote and wrote, it was smudged



But remember she was bent not broken,

Her fingers crafted little boats and like Noah's arch
They sailed the deluge,
Of sorrow, pain and more pain



In a brief brightening moment, she stood tall

On the shoulders of women, who balanced on hips
And hands of many, many other women...

What smoldering acrobats of thoughts!

Darting across time, cultures, latitudes

Frida, Slyvia, Virginia, Talisma, Malala
She was one among them, her words wetting soils
Harvested hearts and embalmed ruptured eyes
Picked stars from the skies to illumine the night of despair



Our dear girl,

Rose beyond the rain-fragrant pines
Soared through unknown galaxies
But it was too much, oh so much 
For smaller souls to bear



Could she dare, really dare to disturb the universe?

They broke her again!
"She was no hero!" they said
Just another of many privileged voices



"Oh she talks about love! "

"Where's the war? Where's the politics?"
So they dragged her out of hopeful bubble
And flashed at her threats, threw words at her 
Like pots and pans; made sure she bled, wept and vanished!



But little did they know 

She was a soldier, a warrior, a poet
Who many times like her sisters, salvaged humanity
No bullet could wipe her imprints in the sands of time
She inked her legacy onto every life she touched



Like a thunderstorm in a desert,

She will stun parched fields 
For the next time she speaks
It will not be 'me' and 'I', but 'we' and 'them'
And she has dreamed of being wrapped in the night sky



Of a country beyond the borders of scarves and veils

Of a land with no curfews, where women like her
Brown and black and yellow and white
Rich, poor, Hindu, Muslim, christian, Jew and Buddhist 
Would hold a pen and brandish it in the air 



And drown in their passionate ink

All fears, censors and perils of the world
I tell you again, in a simple oracle,
That she had no cape or mysterious cloak
But she left behind a trail of fire and smoke,
When she spoke 
 every time she spoke



                                                                        - Asfia Khanam