The poet from Dhaka
Masters her relationship with Delhi
A student
}Her Dhaka is full of rickshaws. She often took late night rides in them to the old city, for a quick seekh at Bismillah hotel, or for a sherbet at Royal.
It is not as easy for her to get a rickshaw in Delhi—no rickshaws ply where she lives, here in the capital’s diplomatic enclave. Asmaul Husna, 31, is a master’s student of sociology (her second master’s) in South Asian University that hosts students from across the SAARC nations. She resides at the university hostel in Chanakyapuri. This dry-hot evening, the woman from Bangladesh is talking of a rainy evening in September last year, when she was new to Delhi. “I was in my balcony when I began writing a poem.” The silence following the rain “felt to me as if Delhi was taking a long, deep breath—it was both peaceful and passionate.” She stayed late finishing the poem, which finally gave her a sense of belonging to the metropolis. She shares that poem with us, which is a part of a series of several poems she has been writing, whose title is inspired from William Dalrymple’s book on Delhi.
City of Djinns, Part 1
after long humid years the city takes a breath a long one passionate the city spreads arms to give warmth to make it a home mellow and peaceful brings comfort in darkness lulls into sleep in daylight the city engulfs the anxieties consumes the deep sighs of the travellers each of them who are yearning for distance home and memories it becomes the shields for wounded birds bruised hearts and happy songs the city ornaments herself in yellow at night sings songs of nostalgic days where a shepherd comes from the hills a boatman returns to his lover a painter yearns for unrequited love a professor lurks in the colonial hangover a town boy hums Bob Marley a lost girl carries the burdens of herself to rest in a non-existing place called home
a woman unchains the heaviness of unbearable expectations the lullaby of the city puts asleep trees, dogs, lost souls the cacophony of ethereal life continues