Kinetoscope (ft. men)

Zainab Akhtar · · Poetry

Late to play, I rush to him
Allahu la ilaha – the rhythmic murmur begins
he blows hurriedly on his restive child
Climbing trees, eating muddy leaves – I frisk, I fall
Back at home,
solace lingers unbound

A wrinkled, disquiet hand
my grip gently placating his
A hospital bed basking in sunlight
Dada’s intent gaze – reading mine
Asked me not to stay,
said no goodbyes

In the garage of my ancestral home,
laid a loved one’s coffin
A moment of unassailable grief
slightly eased
Untouched by words –
my palm, gently squeezed

Jolted out of deep slumber, clenching the sheet
my unbridled outpour,
his unflinching peace
Indifference abrim in eyes
what once was love
Now misery in disguise

Rooftops, lakeside, stories on loop
playful silence resting
in crevices of words
unwittingly memorized
Compass unscathed; I made
a friend for life

An unveiled embrace
amid accusing stares
In the distance, flying machines humming away
years of conditioning up in the air
– a white flag unabashedly waves

Sitting on the bench – a boy in love
awash with conundrum,
his vulnerability
unwillingly tethered
reluctance giving way, my fingers touch his face –
he crumbles.