A Maulud
I turn, my arm not knowing where to fall; I remember, my memories knowing only one person.
I am present yet only existent when you are here and your memories are only ghosts,
I am left but traveling only towards home which is only where you are,
O, Muhammad, shine your light into the heavens—guide me!
O, Allah, let you fill me with the spirit so that I may live, not remember; that I may be existent, not be present. That I may be home.
This maulud, inspired by the week 4 reading of Asani’s writings on Sindhi poetry, uses the poetic device of a virahani, or a woman separated from her lover. This type of poetry communicates one’s love for Muhammad as if the narrator is a virahani—lost from her love, disoriented in the world.
In this poem, I extended the story of Sassui and Punhal, the washman’s daughter and the prince, respectively. The two have married happily, but the prince’s brothers snatch him when drunk from his bed with Sassui. Sassui wakes up without her beloved, and she travels 200 miles to find him, to her death.
This maulud begins with her unconscious, her innate disorientation as Punhal’s body does not provide rest to her arm, and her dreams wander to remembering only him. The next two lines track her travels as she voyages to find Punhal, capturing the feeling of incompletion, as if part of her inner being is now vanished. I played with this notion of incompletion in two ways: in trying to capture the feeling of lack of full existence and to convey the notion of homelessness. In the final two lines, I directly name Muhammad as my lover, identifying Him as the object of my love, praying to him and to Allah that I might find my way to home, to existence.
While the poem derives its inspiration from the story of Sassui and Punhal, it ultimately must be dedicated to Muhammad and the narrator’s feelings of love to the Prophet.