I put my heart out.
Went to the doorstep of mosque.
& placed my heart at Cleric's feet.
I said; "This is my charity"
"Per my understanding"
Of Tahaa & Yaseen
As much down can go
My forehead in bowing to God
As much enlightenment can get
My physique made of soil
As much my tongue
can make it sweeter"
Cleric turned his face away from me
Said; "What is it in your plate?"
"It neither rice, nor a custard"
"Neither pudding nor ice cream"
Said; "Sharia sort the apparent
And apparently you are immoral
Of love for the Lord
What story have you made up?
Fear and only fear from The Subduer
Is the truth of faith
This passion and Beloved of yours
What careless philosophy is it?
Put your heart back in your chest
Bring appearance and presentation here.
Your wine is haram here.
Bring juice and glass".
I took my plate full of dreams
To the court of a Justice.
I picked my little heart
And took it to mashed wires and snake pit.
I said; "Oh Head of Right & Wrong
Head of Black and White
Please accept my present
In the name of the Beloved.
The Justice sat on his chair
Put his bench wig on.
Put one hand on a canon.
Put his other on the fence.
Picked the scale of logic.
Him on one side, my plate on the other.
It was noise and weakness on one side
It was cold and sophistication on the other.
It was wisdom and logic on one side
There was no passion or glory.
It was lost wandering on the other side.
Lost and bewildered sort of thought.
I said; "Take this craziness.
And put a lock on your wisdom.
I said my this high
Put it as a chain to your wisdom.
I said, Oh the Lord of Justice
Look at the destination of wanderers.
Look at this imperfect judgement".
The Justice looked up
Tight lipped and worried face.
Said; "Regret is lost on me.
Which you want from me.
I am the power of mankind.
I am not the ecstasy of Adam.
I have chosen this white and black
From the gardens of pleasure.
I see black. and I see white.
This is all of my story.
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