Kavyakankshini...bewitching words spun with spindles of thought and quicksilver yarn...: Your mother....the.....


Your mother....the.....

“The succulent sweetness of Urdu poetry
The eternally glorified separation of Laila Majnu
The epitomized epitaph inscribed on the winds, belongs to Mastani
The crystallized tears of Umrao Jaan Ada
The by lanes of Lucknow with latticed tales of love and the economics of love
The sole lamp lit in the courtyard, gracing her vacant sky
The fleeting charm from her eyes, tired and dried up
The empty, wretched womanhood, exploited for infinite moons
The crumpled gajras and bedspreads, wads of notes lying around
The slimy grin on her bastard’s face; he too had his noons
The vacant stare into the future, too bleak to be sympathized
Yet, too poetic to be buried in earth, for poetry shall burst forth...”
That’s why my child,
the gulmohur on your mother’s grave is ever in ecstatic bloom....
Your mother...
The prostitute....

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