I walked into the sadness of the night

I walked into the sadness of the night

Overhearing my poems talking to each other

Gathered around the fire of my being

“Why is he sad tonight?”

“He is looking for a new one.”

“No, he is looking for a young one.

A child’s innocence

A virgin smile.”

I walked

Till the voices became a distant echo

I reached the seashore

Measuring the coastline of my dreams

With each step

Then when I added

One more sigh to the strings of sighs

I heard an old familiar voice

Coming from the darkness

Of my nostalgic past

“I am the oldest of your poems.

I have seen you grow in sadness and joy.

Shall I do something for you tonight?

Shall I make a Rabab out of rainbow

With strings made of each color?

Shall I sing the songs of Lala

Or a sufi dirge of Hamadan?

Tell me, I can weave you a dream

Of your beloved land,

Free,

Peopled by love and chinar.

Or shall I open a window to Dal

Or let Jehlum flow from my eyes.”

I smiled.

Few stubborn tears marked two alifs

On my numb cheeks.

I sat down against the pillow of sand

Facing vast constellations of my unknown fate.

“Sing me from Wahab Khar tonight.”

The voice rose like a spear towards heaven

I hummed

Till the eyes of the child inside me

Met morning dew.

The first ray of sunlight

Washed my face with a virgin smile.