Allah Buksh

His fingers controlling/the fountain of water/splashing on the parched soil/The ageless Allah Buksh/Allah Buksh is a Sufi. Poetry by Sukrita Paul Kumar. 


Wrapped in

divine indifference and

dispassionate love

scurrying across rooms

and the wrinkled grounds of

the old Dilli college

water-mashk tied on his back

around the slender waist,

his fingers controlling

the fountain of water

splashing on the parched soil

The ageless Allah Buksh,

heavy with grey silence,


Remember, hundred years ago

Mirza Ghalib turned back

From the gate of this building

This monument

The fountain of water

ready to quench

the ancient thirst

Now, table after table

chair to chair

Go get a cigarette Allah Buksh,

Allah Buksh get the cash from the bank

Go get a glass of water

Cigarette, cash, water, notices…

Allah Buksh

Here to there

All the chores completed

Faithfully in the mind

But in actuality only

the last one

Allah Buksh

scurrying from here to there

for over half a century

the same hollow eyes

sunken cheeks,

stretched face with

streaks of gold

and dark tan

Allah Buksh is a Sufi

everywhere and nowhere

Transparent presence

Older than

 the old

old Dilli college

and younger than

the teenagers in the classrooms.




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