Gulqand

Gulqand

Wrapped between the betel quid,
Sticky sweet roses fade,
Aromatic and fresh,
Yet their own colour has bled.
Lying between slaked lime
To cut a tongue into an ulcer
And the brown earth of kathaa.
Stuffed between the cheeks
Of a lecher or haseena;
Or that of a couple
From a cheap cinema.
The pure
And innocent rose petals
Immortalised and
Confined
In a cheap green tavern bed;
Trapped and tainted innocence.

Hafsa Siddiqui

 

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4 thoughts on “Gulqand

  1. I luv gulqand paan. 🖤

    Liked by 1 person

  2. And ur imagination too..

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I have read millions of words and hundreds of thousands of pages, from hunderds of writers…

    I have (literally) no words for your imagination, grasp-over-the-concepts, power of expression, usage of phrases and vocabulary….

    I present my applause in the following words…….those words were about notable writers…..and that’s closest to what I feel about your writings….

    “Kelly Link is probably the best short story writer currently out there, in any genre or none. She puts one word after another and makes real magic with them — funny, moving, tender, brave and dangerous. She is unique, and should be declared a national treasure, and possibly surrounded at all times by a cordon of armed marines.” — Neil Gaiman

    “Donald Barthelme was a magician of language, and it would be most respectful, perhaps even ethical, not to look too closely into the workings of his magic. But it’s to the brilliant Barthelme’s credit that analysis of his methods does nothing to erode the joy of his stories. Like all good magic, Barthelme’s just cannot be explained away. And thank God for that.” — Ben Marcus on Barthelme’s “Several Garlic Tales”.

    Like

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