I sat atop the dunes, a lone watcher in the sand,
And within the deep wells of thought, I weighed my soul.
Allahobhayo Dal, an eminent poet from Sindh province of Pakistan, shares his poem
Eminent poet Allahobhayo Dal was born on December 16, 1977 at Khipro, District Sanghar in Sindh Province of Pakistan. He started writing fairytales in his mother tongue “Sindhi language” since his boyhood, and published in the different newspapers, literary magazines in 1990s. Now he is familiar as a vibrant poet, author and writer. He received more than hundred appreciation, participation certificates so far on his literary work from across the globe. More than 300 of his poems and short stories have been published in the global literary magazines, newspapers as well as in number of anthologies over the world.
Nostalgia
I sat atop the dunes, a lone watcher in the sand,
And within the deep wells of thought, I weighed my soul.
I sought to measure sorrow and joy, the wounds and the wonder,
Recalled the hours spent laboring for a coin’s worth of time.
I remembered the days of bare feet,
A piece of wood and a chalk in hand,
When I etched the alphabet into earth,
Only to let water wash it clean,
As I grew under the weight of responsibilities.
I was the villager boy who journeyed to the great city,
Chasing dreams with zeal that knew no weariness.
Yet even in my striving, I carried the ache of home—
The laughter of siblings, the boundless love of parents,
The laughter shared with friends as free as the wind.
Once, I was the shepherd of buffalo and cows,
A keeper of simple folk, pure in heart,
Who offered kindness without measure!
We played at dusk, games of hide and seek,
Bats crafted by hand, a ball tossed in the air,
And our voices echoed across the evening ground.
There was a pond, deep and wide,
Where we swam with the abandon of youth,
And how swiftly the days floated by.
Now, as I hold the world in my grasp,
I find my hands empty of that simple joy.
The friends of my youth are memories,
And my village evenings live only in dreams.
Gray has woven into my hair, lines carve my face,
And though I stand here with all I once sought,
The heart remains heavy, for I am rich in all but what I loved.
***
Romance
On a thunderstorm night,
The nectar of your lips,
I once had tasted.
Since then, its sweetness has lingered on my lips,
No matter how long ago we last met.
You wrapped your arms around my waist,
Whispered in my ears, and said, “You’re silly and crazy.”
Your gaze pierced my eyes, and your thoughts were beyond expectation,
Yet, I felt calm.
Suddenly, lightning flashed, and you intentionally pressed your wet body against mine.
I remembered it was the first time I showered you with a bouquet of kisses,
Drowning in deep love as I explored your soaked body.
But then you shouted, “Oh my gosh, you’ve plucked off my flowers!
I’m empty now, with no fragrance left. Let me go! Let me go!”
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