Amaltas–Monsoon and other poems

Amaltas–Monsoon: A Dual Ghazal (to Anannya & Uttaran, and for Suchismita)IAs crusts over hearts may bake in this season of amaltas,Our parched souls, if florid, ache in this season of amaltas.Then unbearable yellow blooms are drenched by the monsoon,The thirst of Qais's solitude is quenched by the monsoon..In that blinding yellow haze, what, did we not rake in thoseinflamed passions, the sun's make, in this season of amaltas?Did the rain then dissipate what desire did create?Did water douse raging fires, belched by the monsoon?.Delhi's very own harvest, for the soaked lover, what rest?Crackdowns, protests; what'll he take in this season of amaltas?It's thunder, lightning; will the revolution be frightening?Or will all beauty, romance now be wrenched by the monsoon?.You're out to pick roses at the time of laburnums, Maaz,They will know you're a fake, in this season of amaltas.But think of it again, Maaz, could this be your final stance?The thick yellow fleece may yet be flenched by the monsoon..II.In summer:.As crusts over hearts may bake in this season of amaltas,Our parched souls, if florid, ache in this season of amaltas..In that blinding yellow haze, what, did we not rake in thoseinflamed passions, the sun's make, in this season of amaltas?.Delhi's very own harvest, for the tired lover, what rest?Crackdowns, protests; what'll he take in this season of amaltas?.You're out to pick roses at the time of laburnums, Maaz,They will know you're a fake, in this season of amaltas..And then come the rains:.When unbearable yellow blooms are drenched by the monsoon,The thirst of Qais's solitude is quenched by the monsoon..Did the rain then dissipate what desire did create?Did water douse raging fires, belched by the monsoon?.It's thunder, lightning; will the revolution be frightening?Or will all beauty, romance now be wrenched by the monsoon?.Do think of it again, Maaz, could this be your final stance?The thick yellow fleece may yet be flenched by the monsoon..* * *. In His Heart – A Ghazal (to Divya).Love at first sight, a thunderclap in his heart.Still never, her, could he trap in his heart..She was the joy of dance, the tinkle of glass,She cut too like a shard, how to strap in his heart?.Madness and tears; like fish without water,Identitarian souls that flap in his heart..Bad manners, daily squabbles, humiliations,The family's jibes, like a slap in his heart..It's turned to stone now, so pin down some love,And squeeze in some life through the gap in his heart..The lost sister – a wound, it needs sutures,Find some salve and put a wrap in his heart..Bottled-up emotions and stifled grief; letUlulations refill the sap in his heart..Insomniac ramblings, poetry's limitations,May the eternal Nyx choose to nap in his heart..Leave those lanes that bind you and travel abroad –A new spring and a new clap in his heart..Cold streets of isolation, warm cups of wine,As another string would snap in his heart..Maaz thought he'd live happily in Europe,Did he know he'd stash Delhi's map in his heart?.* * *.It Wasn't Our Destiny.Translation of Ghalib's ghazal 'Ye na thi hamari qismat' (to Nabina Das and Khalid Riaz).It wasn't our destiny to be with our lover,Had we lived anymore, the wait would've been longer..I live by your promise, knowing it to be false,Wouldn't I've died of joy, if I were a believer?.It's through your caprice we learnt that the pact was weak,Could you've broken it so quickly, were it stronger?.They should ask my heart, how your half-drawn arrows,Pierce it through, and where do they get their power?.What friendship is this that friends become counselors?There should've been a healer, a sympathizer!.Blood would pour unstoppably from the veins of marble,What you believe to be grief may be scorching fire!.If this torment's heart-breaking, where'd we go hiding?If it weren't the pain of love, it'd be of our career..To whom do I complain, of this sad night's refrain?Death wouldn't be too bad, if only once it were..This dishonour on death, why didn't we drown instead?There would've been no tomb, there would've been no bier..Who can see Him? He is One, the Monad. Were thereany duality, our four eyes would pair..These matters of mystic thought, these renderings of yours,Ghalib, We'd call you a saint, were you not a drinker..* * *.MemoryTranslation of 'Yaad' by Faiz Ahmed Faiz .In the desert of loneliness, quiverthe shadows of your voice, my beloved, and your lips' mirage.In the desert of loneliness, under swathes of dust and ash,bloom the jasmines and the roses after your heart..The warmth of your breath rises in the vicinity,smouldering slowly in its own fragrance.In the distance of the horizon, falling drop by drop,glistens the dew of your generous glance..With such love, my beloved, has your memory,today, caressed the flanks of my heart,that even if this is a morning apart,the day of rift seems at an end, comes the night of our match..* * *.~ Maaz Bin Bilal has a PhD in English from Queen's University Belfast in 2015 on the politics of friendship in E M Forster's work. He is currently an assistant professor at Jindal School of Liberal Humanities.