Metaphors/Dil-li
Is the city an apt metaphor for that metaphor we know as 'the heart'? A metaphor for that matrix of memories, lust, pain, laughter, occasional ecstasy, and long stretches of melancholy brooding which cannot possibly reside in any one organ, or any one body?
My heart is a walled city. A trading towns with many gates. And many streets that end in secrets, in memories and dreams too whimsical to share. Like a city that I imagine/remember/inhabit, where there is a street called the Abode of Nightingales.
This city is my heart, it animates me. And I remember that once caravans came here, through fourteen gates, bringing a thousand tongues. Then there were drunken brawls and wild rages, endless flirtations and endless mirth, deception, robbery, cheating, backstabbing, and the occasional ethereal song, an exquisite turn of verse, a sudden smile on the street, which made it all more than worthwhile.
One day, you came. And it was if all the sacks of spices near the Bitter Well has suddenly burst. Your many fragrances spread everywhere in my city, my heart. You could be found in the most secret places, even in the derelict houses that had been lying empty for years.
The city was more beautiful now than it had ever been. But you were afraid. Afraid of what lay beyond the walls. Your city was under siege, and it was unthinkable that the gates were open so wide when every horse was trojan. So one by one the gates were closed.
The city changed. Who can say exactly why? Perhaps only because a siege, real or imagined, makes cities run out of food, and water, and love and kindness. And what remains is the desperate fury of cut-throats. Perhaps only because without a world outside, it became stale and claustrophobic, and we called our city Slum.
I can't remember who called the bulldozers, but now the roads run through rubble and ruins gape at each other across the wide expanses.
You have gone. Who can blame you?
You have left. But you remain.
The gates of my heart are rusted shut.
XXX
Abode of Nightingales is a very free translation of Bulbulikhana, a street near Turkman Gate, one of the old city's fourteen gates. Bitter Well is a similarly loose translation of Khari Baoli, the area known for its spice market. The first large scale demolitions within Shahjahanabad happened after the British siege of 1857; the latest, last month at Jama Masjid.
--
Do not meddle in the affairs of dragons, because you are crunchy and taste good with ketchup.
(with apologies to Dilbert)
http://www.synchroni-cities.blogspot.com/
Only that historian will have the gift of fanning the spark of hope in the past who is firmly convinced that without a sense of humour you're basically pretty f***ed anyway.
(with apologies to Walter Benjamin)
http://www.chapatimystery.com/
--
You are encouraged to post poetry, respond critically to the poems circulated and participate in discussions. To post, email your message to [email protected] OR post online at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ZESTPoets/post/
Tell friends to subscribe to ZESTPoets by sending a blank email to [EMAIL PROTECTED], OR, if they have a Yahoo! ID, by visiting http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ZESTPoets/join/
---theZESTcommunity--------------
[1] ZESTCurrent: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ZESTCurrent/
[2] ZESTEconomics: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ZESTEconomics/
[3] ZESTGlobal: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ZESTGlobal/
[4] ZESTMedia: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ZESTMedia/
[5] ZESTPoets: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ZESTPoets/
[6] ZESTCaste: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ZESTCaste/
[7] ZESTAlternative: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ZESTAlternative/
[8] TalkZEST: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/TalkZEST/
---
YAHOO! GROUPS LINKS
- Visit your group "ZESTPoets" on the web.
- To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to:
[EMAIL PROTECTED]
- Your use of Yahoo! Groups is subject to the Yahoo! Terms of Service.
