WOMAN: A SINE QUA NON
MD AMAN WAHID HAZARIKA
The clock of the trend, braced up its hands.
To scuttle on the streets of the dial.
Howbeit, when promptly the hands halt,
Who’ll glance eyes over the clock?
The sun is vibrant in the blithe azure above.
But I catechize the moon—
“What vain art thine, with its no reflection?”
And I’ll say insipid in its existence.
O’ the believing man,
Isn’t it written in thy law—
Thy woman be half of thy faith
And she be the kernel of thy family?
Ignorance be his artistic camouflage,
Yet quiddity of her existence can’t be decimated.
That life isn’t an epic of emasculation,
Rather an entity to worship perpetually.
The clock catch the eyes,
The moon smugs on glitter:
For incessantly is the hand in action and sun on blaze
That clasps the nameless renown.