Shall I now awaken the slumbering melodies
on the dusty keys of my old piano?
They have lost their memories of dance.
Just like I have left somewhere,
and misplaced the whereabouts of my life.
You see, sometimes Lyrics too are amnesic.
But, there is a corner in my house,
where sits a ‘lonesome room’,
which has never seen a ‘home’ before.
And every dawn,
just before the ‘Azan’ punches a hole
in the night sky,
I walk into that room and console it —
telling stories of how Music once had memories,
.. and how that forsaken piano —
pushed into a cold corner of hers
used to play soulful symphonies
of two lovers,
who once saw in her,
their “Only Home”.
~ IZ ~
* Azan – the rhythmic prayer call of muslims.
Silent Fingers 