The end is beginning's sister

- Mahmoud Darwish , The Butterfly's Burden 

Devotions

Karna Fakeeree Tab Kya Dil Geree

- Meera Bhajan

Encounter

- Czeslaw Milosz, Bells in Winter 

Autotomy

Afterworld by Neha 

In danger, the holothurian cuts itself in two.
It abandons one self to a hungry world
and with the other self it flees.

It violently divides into doom and salvation,
retribution and reward, what has been and what will be.

An abyss appears in the middle of its body
between what instantly become two foreign shores.

Life on one shore, death on the other.
Here hope and there despair.

If there are scales, the pans don’t move.
If there is justice, this is it.

To die just as required, without excess.
To grow back just what’s needed from what’s left.

We, too, can divide ourselves, it’s true.
But only into flesh and a broken whisper.
Into flesh and poetry.

The throat on one side, laughter on the other,
quiet, quickly dying out.

Here the heavy heart, there non omnis moriar—
just three little words, like a flight’s three feathers.

The abyss doesn’t divide us.
The abyss surrounds us.

In memoriam Halina Poświatowska

- Wislawa Szymborska

Kufr

Badal-ta Ras-ta by Neha 

aaj assa ek duniya vechi
aaj assa ek duniya vechi
te ek deen ve aaj le aaye
gaal kufr di kitti

today we sold one world
today we sold one world
then, returned with a new faith today 
we did a blasphemous thing

supney da ek thaan udhaya
supney da ek thaan udhaya
gaj ku kapda paad le aate
umar di choli sitti
aaj assa ek duniya vechi
gaal kufr di kitti

we picked a fabric of dreams 
we picked a fabric of dreams 
tore one yard of cloth,
sewed a blouse of the ages 
today we sold one world
we did a blasphemous thing

aaj assa ambar de kaliyon
baddal di ek chhapni layi
aaj assa ambar de kaliyon
baddal di ek chhapni layi
kut chandni pitti
aaj assi ek duniya vechi
te ek deen ve aaj li aaye
gaal kufr di kitti

today, from the sky’s pitcher
we lifted the cloud cover,
today, from the sky’s pitcher
we lifted the cloud cover,
and took one gulp of moonlight
today we sold one world
we did a blasphemous thing

geeta naal chuka javange
geeta naal chuka javange
ye jo assa maut deko nu
kadi udhari litti
aaj assi ek duniya vechi
te ek deen ve aaj li aaye
gaal kufr di kitti

we will pay the price in songs
we will pay the price in songs
for this, from death - you see, 
we have taken moments on a loan 
today we sold one world
we did a blasphemous thing

main shaah te shayad tu vi
main shaah te shayad tu vi
shayad ek shaah de vich dikhlota
shayad ek nazar de nere te baitha
shayad ahsaas de ek mod pe tola
aur wo pra aitihasik samay aadi gale
main shaah te shayad tu vi

ae meri te teri ho nashi
jo duniya di aad passa bani
main di pehchan de akhar manne
tu bhi pehchan de akhar manne
te o na o aad passa di aad pustak
likhi mai shah te shayad tu vi

ae mera te tera mel si
assi pathran di sej te sute
te akhaan hooth olam pokhate
mere te tere badan de akhar manne
te unnao naal pustak anuvad kitti
rig veda di rachna te bahoot pichhu di galle
main shah te shayad tu vi

that was our tryst, yours and mine
we slept on a bed of stones
and our eyes, lips and fingertips,
became the letters of your body and mine
they then made the translation of this first book
the rig veda was compiled much later.

shayad ek shaah de rith dikhlota
shayad ek nazar te nere te baitha
shayad ahsaas de ek mod te thurla
pur pra aitihasik samay saadi ghale

- Amrita Pritam 

Famous

A very famous umbrella by Neha 

The river is famous to the fish.

The loud voice is famous to silence,  
which knew it would inherit the earth  
before anybody said so.  

The cat sleeping on the fence is famous to the birds  
watching him from the birdhouse.  

The tear is famous, briefly, to the cheek.  

The idea you carry close to your bosom  
is famous to your bosom.  

The boot is famous to the earth,  
more famous than the dress shoe,  
which is famous only to floors.

The bent photograph is famous to the one who carries it  
and not at all famous to the one who is pictured.  

I want to be famous to shuffling men  
who smile while crossing streets,  
sticky children in grocery lines,  
famous as the one who smiled back.

I want to be famous in the way a pulley is famous,  
or a buttonhole, not because it did anything spectacular,  
but because it never forgot what it could do.

-  Naomi Shihab Nye