Ami Is An Immortal Script Poem by Aadil Hingorjo

She can't smile that ancient smile now
Her eyes have lost that sound sleep
Ami hasn't breathed freely since ages
She doesn't write diaries now a days
She doesn't read books anymore
She doesn't have any brother at all
Some died. Some didn't ever born.
Her sisters sometimes console her
But what's the worth of women in our society?
She doesn't even complain to any cores
She types it, and withdraws before sending
She doesn't tell me what befalls upon her
I, her eldest son, fall empty in her arms
And she arms me wholeheartedly
She enthuses me every now and then
My every line comes from her heart
She's an aching poem
Precise. Penetrating. Deep. And painful!
She's a sonnet echoing sacred silence
She's the calmest composition
Since her father died, a lot of her died that day
In fact, everything of her died
She lost her mum when she entered her youth
I wish I were her architect
I wish I would have drawn her with my fingers
I wish I would have immortalized her
I wish I were her lord, I'd have empowered her
I wish I were a singer to her soul
I wish I were her writer, her reader,
I wish I were her historian
I wish I could drink her melancholic stars
I wish I could take her away from all the fog
Would that she hadn't ever been born, ah!
She still holds the beautiful brush
She keeps us painting continuously
We are canvass to her, and she pours herself
Pours her self to the depths of us
Sets us on the window, makes us sleep
And then she fills light in our souls
And enriches every aesthetic honesty inside us
Ami's the humblest artist of the world
Humblest yet the greatest one, and I feel her.
In every glass, I see her designs
She's not the metaphoric mist, but the reality
Reality which has always been in continuum
Rivers weep alone, and she accompanies 'em
She's the promise to my preciousness
She's the foremost fragrance of my life
She's the moon whose moonshine I reflect
She's the dream whose dance happens in me
She's the fire whose rays romance inside me
She's a civilization whose map recites me
She's the sky whose earth introduces me
She and I yesterday sat to each other
She didn't tell anything
I felt it all, she was sad yesterday
I witnessed something dying inside her
Instead she shaped me the best
Her conversation creates me within bits
Her tides surround me; she strengthens my ink
My son, my moon, I'm her moonchild
Ami blesses me with the art of foreverness.