Praxis .


I was into bliss of shadows

When my master turned to me

A meadow of landscape

Came into a vision

A lad fingering every flower

Came to the centre of vision.

I was in blood , crying for help

People of my institution just looked at me

I kept scratching my head for reason

I held Quran in my hand and tasbi

The mascarred was lying in front of me

I had killed him , though he was a human.

A human killed a human , I was appalled by my action.

I cried because my family was far

Blood after all , who has found its pair?

So far I am in blood and the slain too.

I keep on searching for something

Something that is unknown.

In a minute of time I am at a different place,

Maybe a hospital of unconscious

I wish that none among my family visits me ,

What will I tell them about my hidden murderer?

Meanwhile , people came and sympathize me,

Out of curiosity maybe.

I smiled back , and into the future

I recover.

Not twice , not thrice

But many times I get this vision.

What is it lord.

I ain’t have any praxis over being a visionary,

I am a sinner , a struggler.

Though praxis may help.

And in the minute I was happy

For meeting my master.

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Author: Takbeer Salati

I've never been a millionaire but I just know I’d be darling at it .

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