Windows open vistas for us
Windows – of hearts, of minds or of eyes
Windows – which might open outward
Or inward
They bring the light on the other end to this end.
Windows converse
They open the alphabetical locks of our lips
When night weaves nets of darkness on windows
Life-spans speak out in whispers from abysses of pain
Windows then perforce remain silent
Suffer days of tongue-tied laws
Nights of oppression
And epochs of tyranny
Windows are self same stories of dreams
Of centuries
Mute testimony of chasms
Court yards and ruined houses
Evidence of rusted eons rattling with exhaustion
in tyrant time’s primordium continuity
Windows have the heart of a woman
They open their body’s wings of each clime
With a little waft of wind
With fragrance, sunlight, rain or moon beams.
They blow away paper-light images
And waste away life in uncharted desires.
When butterflies fly in front of windows
Eyes glued to window panes become tearful
With noontide memories.
Evenings look forward to a wayfarer passing by
When they’re covered with climbers
holding forth red and white flowers
They fill closed fists with the touch of fire-flies.
Windows often insist on being kept open
They’re surprised to watch cloud, birds
And the blue sky’s expanse
If they’re kept shut
They’re afraid of the life breath of
Walls and rooms getting strangulated.
They’re afraid of dwellers forsaking their houses
They also feel life’s desertion
They also feel despondent
Windows are human beings!
(Translated from the original Urdu into English by Satyapal Anand)
