Our postcards of ancient galleries—we have forgotten them all;
The nocturnal ruins I awaited you in—we have forgotten them all!
Our holdalls heave with news and silver from nonchalant capitals;
Our broken doors, cracked clay walls—we have forgotten them all!
We wrote to each other in eloquent rules of alien scribblers;
Vows exchanged in earthen tongue—we have forgotten them all!
You scarved me crimson, in many a dream; the roses I nestled in you!
How our blisses lie in eternity—we have forgotten them all!
Our gardens we took and planted them on embankments of exile;
Music we purloined from migrant birds—we have forgotten them all!
Qasim, medals are for chroniclers of logbooks of praise and blame;
Names in which we christened each other—we have forgotten them all!
Inspired from a ghazal by Nazir Bakri.
Photograph courtesy: Rob Machado, Pixabay.
Arup K. Chatterjee 