power, justice, man, god

Power is the justification of power, the daily slights
adding up to a gaping wound staring you in the face,
a grand pus-filled showcase of historical inequity
ordained by god, for the glory of man, his middling meddling

middleman.

Justice is the undoing of power. It is the stream correcting its
flow, talking to the wind, gushing past the mountain, seeping
the lowly fields. It is the wrath of the wind, touching the stream,
laughing with the mountain, weeping when it reaches the seed.

Prelude to Jon Elia’s “Do AwaazaiN” (Shayad, pg. 243)

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Strangers

We walk into, beside each other, breathing
the space around us, but not each other, you
and I, forgetting daily the remembrance of
what could once again be you and I.

Interpretation of Jon Elia’s “Maa’mool” from Shayad (pg 88). Transliteration and translation below:

Maa’mool Routine
jaanay kub se For how long
mujhe yaad bhi naheeN jaanay kub se can’t even recall how long it has been
hum ik saath ghar se nikaltay haiN since we have been leaving our home together
aur shaam ko and in the evening
aik hee saath ghar lauTte haiN coming back home together
magar hum ne ik doosray se But neither of us
kabhi haal pursi naheeN ki ever asked how the other was
na ik doosray ko and neither of us
kabhi naam lay kar mukhaatib kiya ever called out the other by name
jaanay hum kaun haiN! Who knows who we are!