City of death, City of life

In the life beyond this,
We met in a forsaken corner
Of a street in Kabul;
Kabul, the capital of Afghan.
Behind us, a t-shirt passed by;
On it was written thus:
"Two warring clans
In the fore-life
Are born lovers in the next".

It dawned upon me then,
That your piercing stare was
The left-over of the
Six shots of Cindery vengeance
And hatred you emptied
On me, the life before.

And you kept blaming
That my words seep the
Eerie delight of mincing
A body, dead long back.

Still then,
You offered me pop-corns
Sold on the sidewalk,
You wanted to know
Why I sighed,

I don't know why.

You wanted to know
How we parted...or,
Was it "why we parted"?

I don't know.

First, It was when the candle flamed
Too high when lit;
Once, it was over a phone bell
That broke a deep kiss;
And then,
Over a stain on my shirt
That you dreamed up,

And then …
…
…
For questioning;
At times, for not questioning;
For calling;
Sometimes, for not calling;
For eating, and for not eating;

Over a sigh,
Over a laughter,
O'er a whine,
O'er a prayer for the kin
O'er a letter sent,
And the ones never sent.
And even, for
Shitting without permission!
We both may have died
About the same time,
I am sure.
If not,
My worries weren't about
Who would look after you;
They were all about
'Who all will be after you'

We did kill each other.
Or may be it was
A divine intervention;
Yes, He who reduces to rubble,
Even the sturdiest of erections…
Queer ain't He ?

And now, we are here -
The ones who slaughtered
One another in love –
Here in the city of Kabul
Kabul , the capital of Afghan.

I took my next puff
When you marveled
The city's splendour.

There goes another t-shirt;
It bore, "I ain't yet been born"

And then
It came to me:
Those Two lines you mumbled
At 5.41on a Thursday evening,
Four days before Christmas,
In the life bygone…

At that fond remembrance, I grinned
Without a word.
And you gave me a kiss!

Translation: Suraj Rajan

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