(from the  poem is waqt toh yun lagta hai  by Faiz Ahmed Faiz) a trans-interpretation

I
qasidah of the present

weave me a dream of children playing with each other-
mothers laughing into a tired evening-
men returning from work-
the dastarkhuaan spread-
awaiting food, laughter and the last cup of chai-
echoes of a time that was
tears across continents-
dreamers lie sleepless
weavers of hope die helplessly-
in their waking hours they
buy masks that breathe better than lungs-
rs 5 off on bulk-
the city walks in rows of silent obedience-
marching six feet apart.
the air turned against us this year-
contaminating trust
                and
commanding obedience:
stay home -step back
don’t touch-wear a mask-
             breathe

II
qasidah of the eagle’s gaze

perched on the city’s highest tower
it surveys the horizon-
an impotent city crumbles under it’s gaze-

being  watched is like being dismembered;
parts of you are
marked-
owned-
reduced-

scanning loss,crooking its neck
to watch
my wastefulness in a caged existence-
its gaze wanders-
languid to the khokhas ; those wooden stalls with laughter-
passing chai with a milky residue-
those corners familiar to footsteps
now  lie in a rubble.
someone will write a story
about them someday.
              perhaps.

III
qasidah of loss

chaos replaced by a hum of the elements-
i put aside frenzied existence

karma whispers a koyel-

cardamom chai brews quietly-
flux settles- dissolving the sunset into dark alleys- resting their empty selves
across dusty pavements.
listless whispers shrink
to passive waiting-
mortals surrender to chance-
evening comes with a quiet placing of itself near the nook of my shoulder-
i look over it
watch the eagle reviewing  the city’s
            defeat

IV
qasidah of how to tell the time now

we have lost dates,days,hours-
lost time somewhere along the stench of decay and death-
nights rest in the cradling raat ki raani
days a deathly quiet
                and
ambulance sirens break the two in halves exact-