In lament you dwell, heart heavy with strife,
Faraz, love’s disciplines elude your grasp, a rife.
What proximity, plans for parting already in sight,
What cruel twist in fate, what cosmic slight.
God or idol, our devotion won’t sway,
A lifetime of worship, come what may.
Awaiting encounters, reasons are diverse,
Gratitude, complaint, emotions immerse.
Compelled by our heart, we are in tether,
Others raise havoc on issues petty, nether.
Tongue-tied, I am, when meeting her grace,
Post-encounter explanations, in solitude I trace.
In hatred’s storm, they persist, relentless and cold,
Yet etiquettes of love, we struggle to uphold.
Faraz, let tears fall with each season’s rhyme,
Seek lost love’s echo, in the heart’s sweet time.
Alas, you go on lamenting the condition of your heart,
Faraz you fail to comprehend the disciplines of love.
What proximity is this that you are here in front of me,
And already we have to consider plans for our separation.
Whether it be God or be it an idol, whomsoever we seek,
We will worship for a lifetime, without question.
Everyone has their own reason for awaiting the encounter,
Some to express gratitude, some to register complaint.
We here are compelled by our own heart and yet others,
Continue to raise havoc on petty insignificant issues.
Tongue-tied I am when I finally meet her,
Afterwards I offer myself hundreds of explanations.
How are these people able to carry on in their hatred,
While we remain busy maintaining the etiquettes of love.
Faraz, do cry a little in the changing seasons sometimes,
Do search for lost love every now and then.