Elastic hearts

They walk around the streets,

Wearing perfume on their sleeves..

Looking to share everything but trust,

Laughing for hours but crying first..

Holding hands but shadows apart,

With bodies of stone and elastic hearts..

©Hira Chaudhry

© Image courtesy: Fine art America

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Monkey-master!

When I was a kid I saw a man in my street every day, they called him the “monkey master”.

He’ll tell his little monkey friend and he’ll dance and walk and laugh and clap. And all the kids will laugh with him..

As my childhood disappeared, so did the monkey master.. I kept wondering where did he go, what happened to him?

Years later I saw him, in an interview by a local reporter. Showing him gradually dying of poverty, as people don’t watch the monkey shows anymore. Some find it dangerous, some think it’s cruel, some say it’s unacceptable to have animals dancing around the streets. Crowds and gatherings need special permissions due to possibility of terrorist activities, etc.

They asked him, if he can do something else to make money..

He said, ” I learnt some woodwork and became a carpenter but couldn’t make as much of a living, because that’s not where my heart lies.

My monkey was my little baby, my best friend. We ate together, danced together, cried together. Every night I fell asleep thinking of all the new things we’ll learn to do together..

People don’t like to watch shows like that anymore, but that’s what I am good at. That’s all I know.. That’s what I did all my life. I don’t know how to be otherwise, be someone else.”

I realized I feel the same.. people don’t love these days, some find the term eternal love as unacceptable and preposterous. Some think it’s dangerous and even overrated, but that’s all I know. I can’t do otherwise whether someone wants it or not.. All I have is “love” to give and share.. I am like the monkey master, will I die suffering too? Just like him…

Triangles

He loved triangles, so he decided to gift me one..

Ever since I’m enclosed in it, always on a run..

On one end there’s love, and birds and a pair of rings..

On other end there’s hate, and a pair of broken wings..

I stand on the third end, while it tears my soul apart..

You stand on each end, staring at my broken heart..

©Hira Chaudhry

®Image courtesy: Fine Art America

Lost

They place, one wound after another..

Sword after sword..

I bleed, from my chest and my eyes..

But I don’t scream..

Numb, I stare, far into the desert..

Still searching..

For something to live for, to fight back..

Dad

For years I tried,

in the middle of the night..

At a lonely lake…

On a summer morning..

With a cup of tea…

Looking through pictures..

Going through your books..

Smelling your shirt..

Giving away your bike..

but failed to put you

in words..

Emerald

On a snowy winter night, ten chariots were seen…

Who arrived to see the girl born with eyes emerald green..

Gifts were stacked to the ceiling by her eighth birthday..

But she loved most was the pendant her father gave her one day..

He told her there’s nothing as beautiful, the way her eyes shone..

So he gave her this necklace of gold and emerald stone..

She loved to explore places where no one’s ever been..

And got lost in a deep forest where every being was mean…

A prince came to her rescue and fell in love at first sight..

Emerald was his cape and he became her knight…

Soon she learnt to ride horses and then threading and sledding..

Emerald was the dress, she wore to her wedding..

On a snowy winter night, the prince declared war…

Outrageous, he killed everyone and left his princess afar…

She decided to go and see him, to hold and comfort her king..

Disguised as a messenger but wearing their wedding ring..

Suspecting everyone as a spy or enemy, failed to recognize his lover..

He took her life with a sword and emerald was it’s cover ..

A love poisoned by doubts, killed a princess kind and brave..

Emerald was the color of the grass on her grave…

Silence

In Silence I hear,

flowers blooming

and birds breathe..

How beautiful,

a journey

through the books

I read..