Kinship in a Page

By Shafqat MH

"Kinship in a Page" invites you into a deeply personal triptych of poems, each a reflection on the profound experiences that shape us. Together, these pieces explore the intricate threads of human connection, inviting you to reflect on your own experiences of belief, sorrow, and the unbreakable bonds of kinship.

The Call To Surrender

The usual venue, an old school premise,

Young men came in to decorate in jest,

They cleaned and prepped the flattened ground,

For the congregation to gather, for the next day.

~

On the prayer mat, beneath a watchful sun,

Over sheets of tarpaulin, stretched between humans and earth.

A congregation gathers, some still, some restless,

Tracing devotion in the fresh morning air.

~

Yet some have other plans, shadows call them,

The shades of trees, the pull of mild temparature.

An unspoken silence, a retreat considered,

The ease of silence, the weight of belief.

~

The Imam’s voice rises, a call to restore faith,

A call through heat, through wavering flesh.

“Remember the time,” he intones, steady,

“Come in line to pray and begin the day.”

~

Some of them, raised their sun soaked voices,

"Let it start, we need to fulfill our duties of the day"

Still, a few of them, had other plans,

Feared the rising sun, over the clothed flesh.

~

Reluctant fleshes lean forward,

The sun holding them in its hold.

The Wajib namaz begins, measured, unwavering,

Surrender written into the arch of their backs.

~

On the prayer mat, the day bends in remembrance,

Dhul Hijjah’s tenth,when surrender was chosen.

Prophet Ibrahim stood, the blade held firm,

Surrender written into the arch of his back.

~

A congregation conveneed again, some still, some restless,

They stood and prayed for our only Prophet,

They prayed for magfirat for their lineage,

They prayed for magfirat for their sins.

~

Still, some hesitant, eyes tracing shade,

The trees still stood there, hands ache for retreat.

But the sun does not waver, the test remains,

Tracing devotion in the fresh morning air.

~

A Silent, Mocking Box

The particles of fragrance of Eid, still floating in the air,

My dearest Aunt left us in the heart of summer,

A fragile vessel, threatened by the heat,

The neighborhood came but left us when the clock struck eleven.

~

Still in discussion with relatives,

About the future plans of Aunt's journey,

Someone hinted at the rent freezer for the dead,

We talked and walked to the store of our local mosque,

A hand cart and a few men, went and got the item for the dead.

~

Aunt left us in the heart of summer,

The rented freezer, became a silent, mocking box,

Like my aunt, it doesn't want to be awakened,

Scouring for an electrician, would be a beam of hope,

~

Neighbors, lost in their own dreams,

They went in to search for their own requiem,

Still in discussion with my first cousins,

If ice packs or ambulances would a safe bet.

~

Two in the morning, still no outcome in sight,

Let the Almighty Allah decide the fate of my Aunt,

I sat with her, till the fazr dawns,

I was awaken by my father for incoming visitors.

~

Memories lingering, till the fazr dawned,

Those sweets, those snacks weren't marvellous,

But, I always asked, when I visited your residence,

I became, at part of your lives, when I was born to your brother.

~

They say those who pass on Eid ul Adha's night,

These granted a swift passage to paradise.

But heaven feels a distant shore today,

About the future plans of Aunt's journey.

~

On The Left

This gathering felt inclusive of new generation,

The gathering murmured its condolences,

She was placed beneath, earth closing in,

That vacant space, bamboo and earth closing in,

Wanted to stay behind, to be the anchor,

For my father, who carries the weight of his sister's absence,

Then dispersed, returning to life’s working rhythm.

~

Cityward with parting words, slaves to the working world,

Cousins moved on, obligations to their duties,

"Take care, your body needs sleep, not running around"

Heavy heart, still heaving, promised to come in a few days,

I too now bear the care of another two.

Wanted to stay behind, to hold the space,

For the family, who carries the weight of my absence..

~

Tied to a seat of a five seater,

On the left passenger seat, occupied the other seats,

Working in would be hard, when I will be tethering with him,

Watching the changing landscapes, on the left,

Tied to obligations, that I need to fulfill to be me,

Wanted to stay behind, to hold the emotion,

To lead them to a positive space,

For my father, who carries the weight of his nostagia.

~

If "Kinship in a Page" poems resonated with your own experiences of faith, loss, or the enduring ties of family, there's more to explore.

Let's connect through words that illuminate the shared human journey.