Poetry
Early Music
A Poem by JASPREET SINGH
We were circling the square
parikarma, Mother and I, a slow barefoot walk
around the healing waters of Bangla Sa’ab
How astonished I was
the same jo-tum-chaan shabad
started playing in the gurdwara, the same music-lit
words she had inscribed on a ruled sheet
in Gurmukhi script
for me in the morning
She walks in indigo
salwar-kameez-chunni
Good to be
out of the kitchen. Mother radiates
a pulsating presence
and the sky then knew no absence
Maadhave tum na toro / To hum nahi torein
swayed like stalks of young pampas grass
blown by the wind
We continue the walk
both bedazzled by the mountain in
Jo tum girvar / To hum mora
The vast ocean of gurbani
full of jewels and pearls
accompanied us
Lovely the birds on cool marble
of parikarma, Children glowed
fish-watching. One almost 8
the age at which the child Guru
Harkishan died, circa 1664
caretaker of the sick
Perhaps she knew, she was aware
that I had no idea, This one our last
walk together
But we made the circle again
a year later, in a different city. In Amritsar
we walked keeping Harmandar on our right
First on my left shoulder
then on right
In a moist black, laptop bag, I carried
her ashes
flowers, and our unfinished
untranslated manuscripts
There at Darbar Sa’ab
13th of Magh, 2013, after crossing Darshani Deori
we stood on the narrow bridge for over two hours
As orphaned paper kites
and fellow sufferers
dived into the sun-shimmering sarovar
And just before
the golden doors
of the temple opened
Like other corroding souls
I
listened to two enduring words
‘Love’ and ‘Asees / blessing’ -- widening
circles
of comet-like resonance, no mass
Mother
anahad naad, un-struck
wave, un-struck melody
Jaspreet Singh is a novelist, essayist and a short story writer. His books include Seventeen Tomatoes, Chef and Helium. He lives in Canada.
December 14, 2014