Uzma Showkat

A part of me, mostly inaccessible to myself, hoards a pile of impossibilities. It knows I can walk on air. It makes me talk to the dead as well. It travels through time and traverses great distances and brings me back in the blink of an eye. My concious mind, only the periodic incharge of my being, keeps laughing at such absurdities, much like the laughter that echoed from the country of the blinds, when they first met Nunez of Bogota. This mind, exhausted  after feeding on the debris of information of this mortal world all day, dies down into oblivion every night. That's when the other part awakes. It commands my soul to depart, to do things that no man has ever seen happening. The soul winks at my lifeless body, laughs back at my concious mind and then flies far away, only to return back every morning with new stories to laugh at, by my other self.  But when the defined term will be fulfilled, my consciousness will prove its final deceit. I, no longer will be able to return ...

I stood long on this end of a road, so beautiful and straight as an arrow. Distantly, I kept looking at my glistening destination, knowing well how far it still is, while I started running towards it with all my might, barely having blinked my eyes even once.  May be, if only I would've disturbed my unending gaze and dared to look around, I might as well have treated my eyes with all the treasures hiding in the intricacies of my journey itself.  And then the concerns of future wouldn't have robbed me of my abilities to live the present. Alas!

Scarlet leaves! Breaking down!  & I'm reminded of the vim, that once illuminated my soul !  Heart, imbued with his fervour, much like the Spring bloom earlier, by now had ripened to finally fall.  How could've the art escaped! From the heart, such rich.  But the walls, such stiff ??? So he broke it, not hard.  For that would've destroyed The treasure within. You see how the fall goes by?  Like the obscure turn of phrase, & discreet in taking away the life. Like that he played his cards. & then did well, his soothing voice too.  helped me bore the bolt of words.   Ones that pierce the heart with ease, Such that the art exudes with grace. Just like the scarlet leaves breaking down, So bleed, dear ailing heart.  & in perplexity enough, let my Autumn pass.... 

I met myself again, the night I sought answers. The voice within grew louder, & kept me awake, perplexed! While the mind kept refuting, The utterances of the heart.  I declared my obedience, boldly ! To the only wiser one, the heart. Yet I couldn't choose between,  the shrieks of "yes", the alarms of "No". Coz' "which reply came from where?"  Is what I could never know!