i remember when i first got on substack, i would be so scared to post but the community here has been so sweet <3. i recently read a post written by
which got me inspired and the poem here was born.also my first time writing in hindi/urdu on here. i know its not perfect and i have a lot to learn and my mother will probably laugh if she ever reads it but i’ve been inspired by the very talented
and .also the original spacing is ummm not like this but substack did not maintain it and it makes me mad so i just added screenshots oops
blood-splattered cherry pits love spit muddied kiss wind hissed lost wits hesitations, I missed lovestruck rose thorns petals fried lovelorn letters wrote hand torn your scent, my loss can you not see? i spared you my grief my uncertain certainty of staining your palms you'd wish to scrub clean, no soap suds lighter in my hands, black soap to wash away my sins. the younger ones still say love will win—can love win over this pain? will it be enough for you to stay? when the stains bleed through these cotton sheets when the ink spills on the stone floor and seeps between holes we could never see. when the cold doesn't last, neither does the heat— when will you see? stone fruits kissing ground when will you come around? lonesome foes keeping house rough hands scrubbing grout lips blow bubbled smoke feet running wrong roads lungs choke lies hoarse summer love's dying words i could never teach my hands to play these cards to win against your eyes. can i ever lose what i cannot touch? glass eyes crying dust overcast failures overrun planned paths turned, acrid scars heartstrings twisted—creeping bruises your eyes trace sinking boats—dreaming hopes splashed between waves your eyes ripple acid hailing skies across shoulder blades dull rusted cutting dents over kin ties— my hands raise to cover your eyes one foot standing on land palm curls over ghost hand rogue horse carriage unmanned fairy towns fire fanned other foot over the grave God sends cleansing rain ink-splotched chest flaming pain you're never beyond His repair gulistaan bahaar ki khusboo (the garden is the fragrance of spring) bhavare kaliyon ke ghungroo (bumblebees are the bells of budding flowers) sholay mere ishq ki arzoo (embers are my love’s desire) toh kaise na jale behte aansoo (so why wouldn’t the streaming tears burn) gunah ke mail bhare saare talaab (the dirt of sins fills the lakes) har khwaish ka gul sirf ho aap (the flower of every wish is only you) jis siyahi ne likha is khwaab (the ink that wrote this dream) zinda na rakh sakhe ek bhi gulaab (couldn't keep alive a single rose) joh qurbani deti qurbat (the sacrifices that bring you closer) daag bane makmali rehmat (the stains that become velvet mercy) khule aankhon mein bhare khuda ki ayat (open eyes are filled with the signs of God) jab nazrein ban gaye mohabbat (when glances became love) darkest nights turn morning glow dead salmon birth pearled roe sinner’s tears spring shoots of growth ranks of angels lighting rows heat waves smothering dreams of spring darkness creeping teeth-white singed roses bloomed wilted crisp hands fragranced with incense sticks your eyes burst springs on barren grounds, my noxious breath leaking tar—i rise morning wisps of smoke —i fall night ashen along your shores— secondhand odor lingering close houses built on broken bones i run between closing doors yet how it is isn't how it must be my joints numb from hitting rock bottom so many times that I forgot footsteps sound — the space between heart and tongue creaks your name— miles between golden days —songbird calls lilies crushed beneath naked feet water sprung from the desert returns clean lilac forest highway fog windows down steaming thoughts headlights on nighttime blots — ignoring old friends’ calls quill scratched poems cursed tear stained pillows burned bruised forehead kissing earth bloody lips berries burst The endless seas in your eyes, gardens bloomed in every smile, this peace — a piece of hearts knotted in heavens — and dust scattered over the skies, burning light into you the night kisses skin into life tempest creeping into veins — at the interface of earth and highest skies your whispers drift, flying swift —cinders burning my heart — flammable veins leaking soot, your hands stained from scrubbing my heart while mine sustain from holding yours, the rosebuds can’t bear the heat past spring, yet the scent lingers of love, the honey sourced still sweet in sticky drips over petals crumbling between finger tips, trickling tears, twisting braids — this love ages and never fouls the rosen days evergreen in smiles, tessellating in memories falling into glowing embers in open hands we sip fragrance rising in smokeless wisps — and we finally see: this love, my love, our love — incense sticks between our lips
also when writing this poem, i got reminded of a prompt i was tagged in a while back:
so i did write something for this prompt back then but never posted it because also scary. anyways, i’ll add it here as a bonus.
an old friend smells like cigarettes whenever i see her. she tells me she is in love with a boy who stole a pack from his dad and got addicted to the nicotine. he is her brother’s friend, but uses that term quite loosely. her brother knows him just well enough to have neither a good nor a bad opinion about him. when his father asks for her hand, the get engaged in two weeks. they don’t touch, she narrates, but he hands over his leather jacket to her whenever they meet, after the sun blends into the horizon, and after the breeze begins to whistle the soft tunes he hums. she returns it before she leaves his car but the odor permeates through her clothes and dissolves into the oils on her skin.
she tells me about her home where her her dad smokes puffs like downpoaring clouds and her mother lights bukhoor rising like a morning fog. over time the impatience crawls into hasty hands as some of the resin splatters into the noxious fumes blending into the city’s smog. neither smell overpowers the other but there isn’t any harmony in the way they blend. they linger in the air until they weave into the tapestry draping windows, until they seeps into the grains of the wood furniture in the house, leaving a near unseen ash daze. the windows creak and barely swing a few degrees past their bolts. what’s born in that house doesn’t leave it. between the smoke and the steam circulating in a kitchen that never closes, she jokes that living in her house is like having cataracts develop over her eyes.
i use the analogy of a smoker’s lung being like a sponge soaked in tar but she brushes it off and says everyone dies some way anyways. that all our hearts are splattered with black spots of sins. so what if his lungs are too? at least he doesn’t smoke indoors, she insists. he doesn’t blow puffs in your face until you start choking amidst a conversation. bare minimum, i retort but she insists i’ll understand when i am an adult. i was seventeen then but she was only a year older.
one day we grab lunch and she starts to tap on the table. she’s been learning morse code for fun. the taps begin to flow into a rhythm and I wonder if she has translated a poem in her mother tongue. she tells me she decoded his puffs of smoke into a declaration of love. what else has he confessed, between these breaths?, I ask. she finishes her meal in silence.
as we rise to leave, she tells me not to worry. she says that when he steps out of the car parked beneath her apartment window, he lights love in his fingers and smokes bukhoor between his lips.
OHMYGOD???? this had me hold my breath throughout. THE URDU PART???? THE VOCABULARY???? THE STRUCTURE???? im in awe. this was absolutely GORGEOUS sameh u can do magic
im absolutely crashing out (in the best way) this was one of THE PRETTIEST THINGS IVE EVER READ ALLAHUMMA BARIK. i had to recover from your last post but THIS??? girrrlllll this was on a WHOLE different level. there’s something about the language of flowers in the Urdu section that punched me straight in the heart i love it Sameh 😭