Poetry

Go Home Sir!

Walked my steps on that holiday,

the sun was glittering; looked it had visited the heaven…

The heavenly glittering was felt by my face, hands, and mostly by my half closed eyes.

I walked with the melancholic thoughts and the pensiveness of my age, wastage!
I somehow approached the park,

I used to sit in, as a tranquil child.
I saw a bench with no one resting, it was vacant.

I managed my steps there and sat.
I started sharing the thoughts with the woods I was covered by; with the river that was flowing before my eyes; and with the smooth breeze around there…
I shared the depth of my heart and the infinity of my mind!
I shared my discomfit, my hardships, my haunting days and my deadly nights!!!

Meanwhile,
A beggar came and sat my left side,

I kept myself mum.
He started begging, the scene arisen utter pity in me and I gave him all the pennies I had.
After that, poor sweaty beggar slept on the same bench, looked he was a homeless!
I started pondering:

Am I the discomfit? Or this beggar who is compromising his dignity and self respect for starvation.

Am I the discomfit, having enough ancestral fortune or this beggar; a homeless?

Am I the discomfit, by easy managing my needs, or this poor; dependent on the pockets of others?

I got deep pensive by the scene and my eyes closed in that thoughtfulness.
Suddenly!
A hand touched my shoulder…
when I opened my eyes, the watchman said,
“Go home sir, it’s late night!”

 

                                                                  ~ Saqlain Mushtaq

                                                                     Baramulla, J&K, India

One Comment

  1. Peerzada Burhan

    It is beautifully and brutally weaved…. I think one who got most of his but have no calm and solace is a begger before a bigger who is satisfied by having nothing…Here Saqlain Mushtaq artfully curled the Hegmony of poor quietness which doesn’t need much pennies over the pseudo wealth …Loved it..