Silence of the Noises

Did I betray myself,

when I sat there, waiting

 

without listening to you, was

a terrible thing to do.

 

But there are questions

I need to know.

 

How could I tell,

I have the answers.

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Monsoon in Hometown

                      A survivor of present

                      — memory is instant.

I could walk so I flew,

stumbled forecast,

saw everybody turning

a tattered face,

 

in an awkward pause

the tin-roof spasmed

on the wall, violence ensues

even an old building.

 

The epigraph severed

through the rainyard.

 

                            Monsoon is too pretty a name for a season as messy as this.

                                                                                         Nadeem Aslam, Season of the Rainbirds

 
(Jul 11, 2010)