A Tea stall

                                        

Where the sun rises

Over a graveyard

And colors it orange.

The echoes of morning azaan

Dissolve in ears.

A Tea stall stands firm

At the corner of street

And flutters colored packets of tobacco

Shimmering against the sunlight.

A woman in dingy pink colored

Saree and shirt

Filters tea.

On specific mornings, I look at her slippers

One of which belonged to her husband

Who died last year.

Men in namaz topis

Translate Ghalib and Asrar ul-Haq Majaz’s shayari

Agony of her shattered heart

Is comforted

Till the echoes of Ghalib’s shayari last.

Some men read newspapers

While some glance at the pictures

In it.

They ask if i can read news to them.

While the news speaks of Islamic State and jehadis

The men in namaz topis

Speak in praise of

Ghalib and Asrar ul-Haq Majaz

And  profess what “taghaful” and “tabassum” means

Before they leave for work

to earn their daily bread.

Tea-stall is a pregnant woman

Trying to build a world of hopes and dreams.

Tea stall is a conviction of creating

Fearless dawn.