Silence And Laughter Poem by Asad Zaidi

What kind of a life did you live asked 'Bari Aapa'
A very good sort of a life, Bari Aapa! 

Ate flavoured trimmings, gathered piquant knowledge from shops

Wore out shoes and nursed the indigestion

One day I sat sipping tea

With two boys and three girls when a query arose

How do people like you survive, Asad Saab, I was asked

Silently, I told them

I spent most of my time remaining silent, 

Silently I talked to myself, 

and I was mostly silent

even while talking to others.

There was silence wherever I went

Which was a bit perilous to start with

What kind 0f haunted house is this, I thought

But then I found that I was myself an intruder and

that was that.
 


In my silence I was never in doubt

For example after watching `Sholay' at Plaza

How could there be room for doubt? 
 


Like a silent lake I wanted to be

And the only way was to remain underground

In a spell of silence

The deafening shrieks of the city could not shake me

But on rare occasions

In cities crammed with hotels

When I chose to laugh

I actually trembled from within

Sometimes water on the surface of the lake

Quivered when I was afraid.
 


To ward off the feeling I wandered with hands in my pockets

Towards bazaars

Where occasionally I learnt that science was progressing

But sometimes one also heard news, which, if taken seriously

could give you the shivers or make the ears rattle.
 


On the roads, more than tyrants

I met a gentleman

Although in the days of ferment I had to

Go along with them

Blending a lot of cleverness with dissent.
 


I sat with pedigreed people holding my breath

It was not possible for me to bring about

A further improvement in their pedigree

They would eye me sympathetically and then try to socialise

Have tea, they would say

(This is enough for the present, they must have thought) 
 


So although it began halfheartedly

They gave me several alternatives

My problem was how to tell them about my dilemma.
 


I devised a very defensive sort of a laughter

Whenever I laughed

I was deeply annoyed, even with myself.

They saw this laughter and my halfheartedness

And began to lose interest in me.
 


It is with the same laughter that I take my bow before you

Come, I will show YOU how I laugh

Afterwards I will show you my silence

Which will explain
 to you

The kind of life I have lived in cities.
 


(Khamoshi aur Hansi)
Translated from the Hindi by Jitendra Bhatia