The very thought of the Beloved soak our eyes and heart in love, even as we are unaware of its magical impact- writes Mujeeb Jaihoon
One fine day
In the morning
Against the sun
Was I facing
My heart
Full of courage
Free from
Any fear-cage
All saw me
Daring with thrill
None who could
My confidence kill
Just then I heard
A Him-Fearing voice
Cast a doubt which
On my apparent rejoice
“O Jaihoon,
Why are your
Little eyes swollen?
What tearful yarn
Have you today woven?
O silly one,
what has hurt
You so much:
Your eyes appear
in shape such?”
Ah! I had not a slight clue:
What love-drink my heart brew
I was rather glad:
While on the way
Upon His Beloved
Had I many salaams say
About the tears:
I thought and thought
Wondering from where
The tears came to light!
And then did
I slowly remember
About the Beloved
Who stood on Medina’s Mimber
That day had I longed much
For the dust of Hijazi suburb
Where lived the
Noble Nawaab of Yathrib
His joyful thoughts
Made me unaware
Of my eyes with
Tears getting wet
I began to feel
As if my sight
Would make
‘Even hell sweat’!
Ah! But now where is
Such a Tabrezi voice
To witness within this Hindi
The Hijazi fragrance
I now pray for
The bright spring to enter
Across the corridors
Of this solitary winter
And once more
Make me fully realize
The tears of joy
As my heart cries
April 30, 2003. Edit March 2022
