Fire

Fire

_______By Aranna Hasan Delwar.

I have never been particularly organized.

An untidy life fosters a kind of fire.

I want to slap rules in the face, hard.

I can't stand the stern gaze of time.

Rules scribbled down in reams are just too complicated.

I turn them over, upend them, and arrange them my own way.

The mysteries that thicken with the night are my companions.

In the daylight, everything is so clear, every naked truth is so stark.

I get scared and hide in the bathtub, seeking refuge in water.

You've called me uncivilized, antisocial, barbaric, and much more!

I roam through forests and wilderness to reconnect with my primal roots,

Never sparing a single gerrybug or ant egg.

Sometimes I become extremely urban, downing a bottle of champagne in a single gulp,

Losing my identity and doing so much more!

I laugh when you give speeches on stage, all dressed in crisp, starched clothes.

You wear perfume to go serve in the slums because the stench of poverty offends you!

And you who fill the night only with the scent of lust,

Open the door and step outside for once.

See how many people and dogs share the same pavement at night.

But I'm a cut-cornered, whimsical, rule-breaking person!

You're bound by rules, bound by the kings and queens of a deck of cards,

Your life filled with poetry, conferences, meetings, protests, and so much more!

Yet where's the fire in your organized life?

The fire that would put food in everyone's mouth,

The fire that would burn blind superstition to ashes,

The fire that would give birth to people—

Simply true, genuine people—

Of no caste,

Of no religion,

Of no race.