HAFTA VASOOL….

Yesterday for a friend, as I had to wait
though I knew it was night and was late
yet I knew that I was to get an opportunity
to see something that was a part of my city.

Though its not something which I am taking pride
I felt that the experience I take it in my stride
and as about it, am out to write and tell
so that later ignorance doesn’t ring a bell.

Later, as my friend came and on or way, we went
in my mind, I thought, for agreeing, I may’ve to repent.
By thinking I would be a dude who would be cool
I felt I must see what happens during a hafta vasool.

Perhaps none would have deemed it to be sane
to have gone to such a place that had a narrow lane.
All through, during my travel, what all I heard and saw
was something I knew for sure, not desired by the law.


At last, finally, I was shown the ‘kopcha’
where we knew that we would get the ‘rokdaa’.
By stretching out near the door, the left hand
it was known that we would get what we demand.

Before any others would have any sort of clue
or we came across any, as we call here, ‘mamu’
we collected our stuff and did the ‘kalti’
as our presence there, we didn’t want others to see.

Later, as I traveled back home in the train
I thought that this experience shouldn’t go in vain.
In brief, about all this, I thought, I write
as slowly came the dawn from the night.