I tasted blood on the lips of Jehlum...

I tasted blood on the lips of Jehlum –

I burn with Jehlum.

I used to touch her bare wavy chest

With my small fingers

Playing with its watery wings

And dancing in joy

Like a dry floating falling leaf

From the top of a chinar tree

I used to swim in her wet arms

Pushing myself back inside her womb

I used to tickle her with oars

And caress her sleek silvery body

With wooden shikaras all the time

I used to see myself

In her heavenly reeking eyes

But now…

I can’t

For I tasted blood on her burning lips

While losing her fatiguing heart

When I come near to her

She runs away from me…

I can’t stand it

I protest

I resist

I rebel

I dig my nails deep

Into her dying veins

But they elude my grip

I feel anger running through her body

I fall helpless

Standing on my knees

Like a prophet

Waiting for the divine whisper

I too wait for her

To kiss me last drops

Of her ever flowing love

But then…

I come back

To my parched barren world

After dropping a kiss

With my salty wet lips

                                 From my ever-longing eyes.

God is pregnant with me...

Thus speaks God to me

Within these fragmentary moments of divine

When silence is the only speech

And all speech is gone

When a drop of water doesn’t even disturb its own surface

Leaves stop dancing on the ethereal stage of wind

And wind hugs close to the earth

The calmness of the Sea is eluding moon’s seduction

And waves hold each others’ hand in awe

Rivers and streams put down their watery anchors

On the rocks beneath

Reflections forget reflecting back

Earth stops its Sufi whirling

Honey bees retire from buzzing so long

Candles burn unflickering

Vehicles on the road forget honking

And when the silence of the night

Finds itself naked and alone

In that moment of solicitude

I come to know that God is pregnant with me

I live in “His” womb

I wonder if “He” is taking proper care of “Himself”