Ghuzzle

Ghazal is about freedom till one chooses a scheme after which slavery follows. Inspired by the art of Ghazal writing, i tried to write one. The freedom of free verse soon vanished. The question of “what follows” was tiring.  All thoughts have to pass through a narrow alley of befitting scheme, very few turn out victorious. But the way writing unfolds is addictive. List of words rhyming with the Qafia(“epitaph”) and completing the Radif(“Half”) were few. I would say i didn’t choose an apt Radif. Lessons learned. Ghuzzle ain’t as plain as they seem.

 

You etched an epitaph, and unveiled only half,
tore the photograph, and kept only half.

Bounded to the world, boundlessly you speak,
penning agonies in aching paragraph, erasing only half.

Heer left Sailaan, along with joys of the world
who would beseech on its behalf, who would grant her half.

Dream ends eventually, drama of life continues,
I wanted to choreograph, nothing but your half.

What could Uzair write, he is a wanderer
chasing the sacred chaff, lost in many a half.

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