Stalking a Soofi
I'm stalking a soofi…
A soofi who has the air of mystery,
And it feels like he see the souls
Than the carriage.
He has prematurely greyed hairs,
Smile is of an innocent child,
His words stir your soul-
Unpleasant realities served on a platter.
The soofi who can feel at home,
Lying on the floor laden mattresses-
Where they sell body for a living…
Does it resonate with someone who said,
I came for them?
The inconspicuous mundane moments,
Captured for the world,
As if that's his duty-
To show how important those mundane moments are-
He makes you think.
Think of your triviality,
He winks, smiles and walks away-
To capture another life-
Not expecting anything from life.
He falls in one among the very few
I admire…
Soofi, I'm stalking you-
When it's dawn and you hear-
The Fajr, through the Zuhr,
Asr, Maghrib and till your lantern
Is put off after the Isha...
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