Tag Archive: afzal moolla


Afloat on the River

Afloat on the rivers of life,

rootless at times,‎

bogged down in the mire,

at times a lonesome twig cast into the depths of despair,

a vagabond sans destination, sans care. ‎

The tides have washed me,

hither and thither,

never knowing where I would finally rest,

till you held my heart in your tender hands,

clasping it closer to your breast. ‎


All the while gentle ripples have steered me away from desolation,

breathing new purpose,

igniting fresh promise,

reaching around me,
enveloping my soul,

oh yes, ’tis you,

who has carried me through. 

It is only now that I know,

you are the river upon which I sail,

your love the wind at my back,

your presence a comforting respite from the detritus of the shallows,

while quietly you carry me,

towards the passionate streams of the lagoon,

rescuing me,

liberating my heart,

from the noose of the once omnipresent  gallows…

 

Inflamed by my wildly fiery desire,

I kiss the fluttering petals of your soft, sumptuous lips.

I tease you,

my ravenous tongue sipping the glistening, molten drops of alluring morning dew.

Inflamed by my wildly fiery desire,

I make love to you,

in my dreams of passion,

my dreams of sensual seduction,

dreams of our erotic confluence,

painting, sketching, dousing my dreams in colours of my naked desire:

burnished copper-red.

scorching scarlet-rose.

achingly beautiful crimson.

Inflamed by my wildly fiery desire,

I dream of you,

dreaming of making sweet, agonisingly delicious love to me,

and in this dreamscape of irresistible vistas,

I see your face.

And I dream,

I dream of you and I entwined in ecstatic bliss,

and together we find the place,

the only place we passionately ache to be:

in each others’ arms.

Eternally.

Mandela in Kerala

Madiba in Kerala.

A comrade from the southern Indian state of Kerala shared the following anecdote with my father sometime in the mid-1980’s in New Delhi …

… On a trip to his home state of Kerala, the comrade said,

“…I was on a small fishing boat with some other comrades, we were going to an anti-Apartheid meeting that had been organised in a small town.

During the course of the boat ride, I kept hearing the boat-man’s voice, as he was singing, and quite loudly too, a song in Malayalam,

And I kept hearing what sounded like the name ‘Mandela’, over and over again,

So I asked the boat-man who or what this ‘Mandela’ was?

“You come from the city, and YOU don’t know who MANDELA is?

A Thirsty Traveller

A Thirsty Traveller …

I’ve rambled through this life,

on a quest to seek the elusive dew of joys’ dawn.

I’ve roamed these desolate streets,

pursuing the mirage of the promise of a new morn.

I’ve crawled through numberless deserts of thirst,

always waiting for a sign,

while searching for the elixir of my life:

your softly quivering, sweetly-scented lips,

as they brushed,

longingly,

against mine …

The Paths we Weave …

Walking alone,

on these meandering paths this life weaves,

weathering the nudges and the tugs of destiny and of fate,

I have walked alone for many a mile,

but not today,

for today,

I weave through alleyways of solitude,

rinsing my cobwebbed memories,

seeking to steer my path,

gently,

so that this pathway of life may lead me to you,

where my only hope is that I am not too late,

as I place my soul at your hearts’ gate …

In your Eyes #5

may your gentle all-embracing warmth,

be forever by your side,

and may you always walk the soft beaches of destiny, at the coming in of the tide …

May life shower you with love and laughter and truth and peace and health,

as your generosity of spirit remains a wellspring of your ceaseless human wealth.

May your dreams be boundless as they soar through hopeful skies,

the hopeful skies that I see,

in the chocolatey universe of whipped cream delights,

that reside,

swirling,

in your beautiful eyes …

In your Eyes (scribble 1)

In your Eyes …

Walking along these bending alleys of life,

the promise of meeting a fellow-traveller was deemed far too remote,

and so,

I shut down my heart,

severing all loves’ ties,

but then again,

that was before,

before I gazed into the ocean of your fiery, gentle, irresistibly enticing eyes …

life, love, & sweetly aching blues …

caught red-handed,

stealing moments,

a mere nanosecond,

of hastily borrowed time …

I stand accused,

of a past,

pockmarked by shrapnel skidding off the many alleyways of life …

I plead guilty,

naked and stripped bare,

engaged in a duel with destiny and time,

wasting,

&

wasting away,

scribbling verses in the sand,

devoid of an iota of life’s maddening,

&

Irresistibly seductive rhyme …

Choosing to be Human…

We may choose,

to trudge down life’s pathways alone,

barricading our fragile hearts,

behind ramparts of stone…

We may choose,

to stow our emotions away,

shielding our weary souls,

from the promises of a new day …

We may choose,

to never be hurt again,

safely enveloping our fatigued selves,

tucked away from loves’ pleasures and its pain …

or,

we may choose to be human,

leaping into the cauldron of countless unborn tomorrows,

inviting loves’ soothing balm,

and perhaps,

caressing  away a few of our lonesome sorrows …

and so,

we shall choose to be human,

lowering the defences hewn from bitter experiences pummelled with pain,

as we welcome love into the deepest recesses of our being,

nourishing each other while gently letting go of yesteryears’ stinging pain. 

caressing the seductively swaying marmalade roses,

teasing the stealthily approaching morn,

the smell of you lingers,

on,

and on,

as I lie awake and allow my vagabond thoughts to wander,

to the thoughts of you, seducing my soul entire,

as I sat,

and as I basked,

intoxicated,
teased,
raging,
transfixed,

and warmed,

by the healing glow,

that embraces your being entire …

Chocolatey Dreams…

under a breath of dark chocolatey desire,

the furnace re-ignites dormant dreams.

Dreams dreamed,

basking in a warm cocooned glow,

as you so effortlessly,

set my soul so scorchingly afire…

Madiba (1918 – 2013)

Madiba.

( 1918 – 2013 )

Madiba, you are resting now.

Madiba, you have joined the ancestors.

Madiba, you are with your comrades.

Madiba, you are with us.

Madiba, you are within us.

Madiba, you live!

Madiba lives!

He lives!

He lives!

He lives…

image

For. Our Father, Nelson Mandela

For Madiba
(1918 – 2013)

And Just When I Felt Lost…

,,,again,

when i feared that you were slipping away

i feared more for myself, in truth I say, than for you.

again…

you came back to us

again…

your light shone, ablaze

reaching inside of me with the warmth of your dignity

with your infinite gentleness

with your effortless peace

with all that made you, you

again…

soothing me as you soothed a nation

and a people, and people everywhere

of every hue

and of every creed

and of the human spirit itself

again…

you gave of yourself

again…

you breathed my fears away

you embraced me as you have always done

again…

you made me cry

weeping tears of joy for you

for your light to shine on through

again…

you shined so brightly

as I basked in your warmth of you being you

again…

you cradled my shaken being in your hands, lined with age and with wisdom and with a pureness so bright

that just knowing that you were finally home, smiling that fatherly smile of yours

was enough for me, to slip into the waiting arms of this warm and joyous night

and again…

you came back to me on this night

and just knowing that you are with me

is enough now, for within me, you will reside forever more

just knowing that you are resting, finally

fills me with the biting grief of parting

and with the peace and the joy that has been your gift to me, and to us, one and all

shaking me to my very core

as you have selflessly done

throughout all our lives, and on countless occasions before

He is home!

You are home!

and

i am home with you

as your light of life continues to shine

now and forever

warm and dignified and forever true!

Viva Nelson Rolihlala ‘Madiba’ Mandela Viva!

Vincent and Ludwig

Vincent & Ludwig…

“Your ‘Sunflowers’ evokes the beauty of a sublime sonata to my deaf ears, my dear Vincent”,

“Ah! but you do hear! You hear the passions that torment my soul, my dear friend Ludwig”,

“And you paint in the colours of my dreams, Vincent, where I am alone in a field of sunflowers, as the moonlight caresses each tender stem”,

“Yes, Ludwig! Just as your ‘Moonlight Sonata’ moves me to tears, the tears that you see as delicate drops of dew on the sunflowers of your dreams”,

“Sunflowers bathed in soft moonlight”, smiles Ludwig,

“Oh yes, that same canvas of night that sways to the delicate touch of your music”, Vincent says with a wink.

Ludwig smiles again, as Vincent laughs a hearty laugh.

Vincent & Ludwig

Vincent and Ludwig.

“Do you know, my dear Ludwig, that I’ve sold just one of my paintings?”

“Yes, Vincent, do not despair, my friend, they cannot, will not, fathom the flower that reveals its petals before their eyes”

“I suppose you are right, old friend. They cannot, will not, hear your ‘Ode to Joy’, though it is you who are deaf!”

“But my dear Vincent, you do hear my ‘Ode to Joy’, deep in your soul”

“Yes, I hear it, I feel it, Ludwig, flowing like liquid paint through the canvas of my veins”

“My dear Vincent, I too feel your brush-strokes, and in each swirl of colour I hear your joy, and I can touch your pain”

“What does that make us, my friend? Two men cast adrift on the bluest seas, leaving nothing behind, yet heading nowhere. What does that make us then?”, asks Vincent.

“Human”, replies Ludwig, smiling.

“Human, yes, dear Ludwig”.

“And that is enough”, says Ludwig, almost to himself.

“It is enough”, smiles Vincent.

“To be human. It is enough.”

Vincent laughs, as Ludwig watches a gentle wave caress their toes, through their tattered shoes.

My Poetry Recital

Rolling and Rambling…

(for my heroes – Woody Guthrie,Huddie ‘Leadbelly’ Ledbetter, and Pete Seeger)

Rolling along the meandering pathways of half-torn memory,

Rambling through the deserted highways of jagged doubt,

Rolling and rambling,

along and alone,

I’ve seen the hounds of hunger,

I’ve heard the howls of prejudice,

I’ve felt the dull-edged stiletto of need,

Rolling and rambling,

I’ve tasted the sweet waters of unquenchable thirst,

I’ve been thrown to the wolves of endless war,

Rolling and rambling,

walking and talking,

with a man in whose eyes, I saw the depths of the sea,

with a woman who laughed through her tears,

Rambling and rolling,

here, there, everywhere,

searching for that elusive anchor,

that may unshackle this vagabond heart,

Rambling and rolling,

searching for that elusive anchor,

to rest finally,

and gaze upon the echoes of pain,

as they silently depart,

rambling and rolling…

An Untitled Scribble

An Untitled Scribble…

The leaden streets that I have roamed,

call out to me from time to time,

questioning me,
as I crawl on my knees,

blinded by the garish ostentation on display,

deafened by the raucous cackle of the crowd,

my mouth sewn shut,

while a million tongues wag,

I am tired,

exhausted,

as I continue to drag,

this husk of a man,
broken and torn,

while,

dreading phantom horrors,

the morrow may spawn.

Wrestling fragmented memories as they scurry away,

into the broken arms of a fate that scoffs at the dying of this day…

All these scribbled words left to rot under a bleeding moon,

sweeping the emptiness into the fabric of a night so bitterly hewn…

Teasing tomorrows tantalise and tempt,

down alleys of silently breathing contempt…

I stand alone, pummelled by destiny’s torrential rain,

laughing at the insanity that has kept me sane…

I look all around me, and my unseeing eyes behold,

a billion shattered souls left out in the numbing cold…

So walk with me, for a while,

let us leave this place of pain with a weary smile…

We will walk these dead streets hand in hand,

we may be fractured, but together we will always stand…

With you by my side, I banish the hurt, the pain, the tears,

and I smile, as I bid a long, overdue adieu,

to all my desolate years,

and all my paralysing fears.

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