Ghazal for heart’s dissonance in two Urdu letters

by Abhilipsa Sahoo

“They ask me to tell them what Shahid means—
Listen: It means “The Beloved” in Persian, “witness” in Arabic.”
—Agha Shahid Ali, “Ghazal”


Your name trembles on my tongue, Shahid or Shaheed?
Each sound a shadow of what I’ve believed, Shahid.

In the hastened diction of kāaf and qāaf, two breaths divide
Ashk falls gently; ishq must bleed, Shahid.

Like stars embroidered on Kashmir’s silken skyscape, they seek no absolution.
What faith remains when hearts concede, Shahid?

The tongue, a battlefield of soft and rough,
Words break like qayamat, prayers mislead, Shahid.

Ashk carries sorrow, a river contained,
Ishq burns deserts, unquenched in need, Shahid.

Between loss and longing, who can draw the line?
Our griefs are molded in the same kiln—undivided, congealed, Shahid.

Kāaf whispers the steady warmth of hope; qāaf demands fire, the burning anticipation.
How can one name hold both decreed, Shahid?

What does love ask for, but its own undoing?
What is a witness but a transgression—an obedience to impede, Shahid?

A martyr dies once; a lover, endless times.
Is this the sacred heresy of apocalypse, or am I profoundly healed, Shahid?

Beloved, witness, or martyr, your name is a congregation of mirrors,
Splintered truths in each syllable freed, Shahid.

Do we dissolve into what we desire? In you, the /l/ of lover knelt to infidel,
when the /k/ of aashiq and kaafir disagreed, Shahid.

To speak your name is to weave contradictions,
Both sword and its quiet concession still unconcealed, Shahid.

Let the tongue twist its ache into ghazals.
Even in exile, you are my creed, Shahid.

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