Gobi Wala
By Raimu Itfum
اج ابکی یاد آئیOff weaving, smiling,
cooking in chipped pans; filled with rust, age,
filled with smells, of moments lost in time.
یاد آیا; ملتانی مٹی کی,اندرونی لافز جس مین کشمکش
اور وہ دھونڈ والے ہوائیI have often weaved timelessly through the whispers that hold no symphonies or threads.
Chewing and gnawing,
Echoing my eyes, lessening their value,
Of worth and earth.
Reminding me, No more Gobi Wala.
Even as I shave, sprinkle, kneed, haldi, sauf and make rooh’e milai.
No batch makes it through, and my body lies.
No more Gobi Wala, Bhai Wala, Sufiyana sala.
Detached, off service.
In hayfields of blues, grace and enmeshed khait.
Almost speeding through parallel lines.
Belonging nowhere but to time.
Invincible,
Bathing in glory,
Masked by the wine; things we have done to earn a while, in ocean breezes, in sands and grime.
,بس یاد ہےپرینڈے کہانی کی، موتی نانی کی، اور وہ لوڈ شیڈنگ والی چارپائی۔To this comfort of uncomfort and an off tide,
Theirs to hers to yours and yours to mine.
Had we potted flowers instead of thyme.