Book Mark

I remain Where she left me After she had finished reading. No one leafed through the book of love Time has coursed its way Aeons have passed But I remain entangled In the inconclusive tale of love Waiting for her to come back And once again turn its pages Get the story going again. She was keen to progress in life Desirous of Glamour, fame, a bright career How could she find time to read? Accustomed to decorating shelves With bric-a-brac and books She knew Nothing could be gained from old volumes Except dried-up flower petals Dead butterflies Words, moth-eaten Letters, hidden as mementoes Names of some friends. I remain Where she left me After she had finished reading For I'm a memento too A forgotten tale of past friendship A symbol of memories, old and worn out Sacred remorse of one-sided love I remain A peacock feather in a holy book I do not have the luxury of tears.....! (1988, Translated from the original Urdu by Satyapal Anand)