Delhi
the gate of the jama masjid
morning prayer time
and on the face of delhi
a sad smile of wisdom and in my being
an intense aloneness
on one hand is the dying urdu pronunciation
the pressure of the narrow streets of history
a few broken remembrances of childhood
and on the other hand
the roar of the indus
friends, involvements and the dreams of youth
to understand all this and
to make it mine and suffer
is not possible in the wilderness of delhi
arif, make your way home
to the barren sea licked sand dunes
and to the islands of unfulfilled hope
and talk to your friends
they will understand