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Tuesday 12 July 2016

But that was not the last of it.



There was light,
Laughter… and pain.
And that was
The last of it.
There were no cries
No pain.
Yet the floor was
Red, as though
Painted with
Dismember limbs
And broken seams.
Unattended dreams,
Of you and me.

There was light,
Laughter… and pain
And that was
Not the last of it.
There were cries and
Broken sighs.
The blood seeping
Out, as fast as
The breaths
That were dying out.
There were shrieks,
And yet silence
From you.

-Momina Latif.


Saturday 14 May 2016

Bone China and Tea Tags.






Dainty teacups make me anxious.

There I said it.

I’d drink tea out of enormous mugs,

And Styrofoam cups,

With tea tags dangling

Like tiny ornaments.

But tea cups.

Ah, no.

They don’t help much.

There’s always the possibility

Of the precious china shattering,

The unamendable beauty

Of these fragile handled bowls.

And all that clatter.

Oh! That clatter.

So much like a tiny heart.

So much amiss.

Clattering and dainty,

Fragile yet loud.

And to be handled with care...

-Momina.

Sunday 10 January 2016

Crippling



When you are standing on the verge of experiencing loss, you lose your hold on sanity, nothing seems certain. It's like ripples that have been generated in the calmness of a lake. Like pendulums striking one another, willing an activity to take place.

Except amidst all that activity you find yourself still. Paused amongst chaos. Bent to the verge of breaking. Nobody knows but your Internet history is a record of the infinite articles you have read of the virus that infects your life. Your phone, a web of notes you've scribbled to hold on, trying to accept loss. You seek corners and get away from crowds and yet at times you want to lose yourself, will yourself out of the silence that withers you inside. And then there is you staring down the fourth storey, contemplating options.


And yet you find your eyes dry even though your heart weighs a ton. Loss. Loss takes away bits and pieces of you and leaves you with marks like hollows under your eyes and the inability to cry, to feel. It leaves you with a strangeness hard to decipher. It steals you of feelings and cripples you of life.

-Momina.