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.


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)