Not much pirated stuff of his online. Must go hunt for his poetry.
This I found at a blog by one Eduardo C. Corral. Thanks Eduardo!
The Dacca Gauzes
. . . for a whole year he sought to accumulate the most exquisite Dacca gauzes.
-Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray
Those transparent Dacca gauzes
known as woven air, running
water, evening dew:
a dead art now, dead over
a hundred years. "No one
now knows," my grandmother says,
"what it was to wear
or touch that cloth." She wore
it once, an heirloom sari from
her mother's dowry, proved
genuine when it was pulled, all
six yards, through a ring.
Years later when it tore,
many handkerchiefs embroidered
with gold-thread paisleys
were distributed among
the nieces and daughters-in-law.
Those too now lost.
In history we learned: the hands
of weavers were amputated,
the looms of Bengal silenced,
and the cotton shipped raw
by the British to England.
History of little use to her,
my grandmother just says
how the muslins of today
seem so coarse and that only
in autumn, should one wake up
at dawn to pray, can one
feel that same texture again.
One morning, she says, the air
was dew-starched: she pulled
it absently through her ring.
_______________________________
I remember Tha'mma from The Shadow Lines by Amitav Ghosh; Ghosh seems to have been influenced by Agha Shahid Ali - he has written about him;
it's that same kind of absent sadness with which she asks where the borders are...
This is one poet worth pursuing.
Links to:
THE SHADOW LINES by Amitav Ghosh [via Google Books]
THE COUNTRY WITHOUT A POST OFFICE by Agha Shahid Ali [via Google Books]
1 comment:
'I want to live forever. What else can I say?
It rains as I write this. Mad heart, be brave.'
- Agha Shahid; They call him the poet of grief.
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