Poem: Two prayers… Or are they one?
PRAYER – I Softly, softly He enters my heart Wearing masks I can never recognize. In my innermost recesses, He cuts me, leaves me bleeding. Gently, gently He wounds me, And in my bleeding, he rejoices. Mere mehboob, mere dost My beloved, my friend… Silently he sits with me And shares my sorrow, my grief And through his own tears, smiles. His smile makes me forget my tears. He laughs with me, He laughs at me, Sometimes the distinction blurs And frankly, I don’t care. I gaze at his radiant face And pray that he never stops laughing. (If he does, I shall gladly play the fool Let him laugh at me.) But I see him raise his hands To secretly wipe his eyes. And I seize his hands Because his salty tears are mine Mine by right to kiss away and to drink. PRAYER – II Mere mehboob, mere dost, mere aaka You struggle to express your love And then you struggle to conceal it. I have felt your wounding touch. My be...