The Word

In the beginning was the Word,

And the Word was with God,

And the Word was God.  (Holy Bible, John 1:1)

Hush! Hush! How

                 Does

A word
                        Break

Its silence?

Does it behave like

An unruly boy at the last

Row of a crowded class?

Or a school teacher in hurry?

How does the word break its shell?

To unfurl its pock-marked heart.

Does it toss like a fish, caught

Fresh, in the hands of a fisherman?

Or the tail of a rounded eel?

What if the word were a

Woman?

A poor one,

Dreaming of a fine

Gold necklace from her lover.

Would you strangle her- in bed?

With your muscles,

Before dawn jumps in her shed.

Or would you be drowned

In her helpless breath?

Bark tonight! O heart! Bark!

With a spade, in memory’s field

Like a farmer, dig deep trenches

Only to unearth your memories

Like some fossils.

All day and night the word sings:

“I am neither the loosening of a song

Nor the close-drawn tent of music;

I’m the sound, simply,

Of my own breaking.” ¹

                                        (Ashaq Hussain Parray)

1. Note: The last four lines are from Mirza Ghalib