Attuned To The Art Poem by Aadil Hingorjo

Their eyes reveal art
They themselves are the art
The children playing in dust
The children playing on the sandy dunes
The children of my hometown,
the children half-educated...

Ah, those young girls are art
those girls with abstract expressions
Girls with godly expressions,
Girls carefully controlling their breasts
Girls hiding their shyness
Those movingly musical women are art.

Art lies in the arms of parents
They are the composers of creation
They serve the art;
Art in fact serves them
They are the genuine artists
Raising raw materials to the rhythms
Baba and Ami are the artful entities.

Old friends with old heart
Their tales are art.
Their smiles, and their anger
Their old-fashioned faces are art
Art is in Eve's every drop
Art breathes in Adam's all sons
Art is in earth's every ounce
In birds' beauty, in animals' eyes
In the boldness of beaches,
In the serenity of seas,
In the intensity of endless oceans,
in the history of hills,
In the dashes of the desert-line
In the remnants of rivers,
In Moen-Jo-Daro's mystery
In the Indusian immensity
It is the most innocent entry
It is the most delightful dance
Art is what makes and remakes us.
Without art, there is no life.