The Forgotten Home Poem by Asad Zaidi

O decrepit and empty, closed, solitary hut!
Open your door. Offer water to the guests.
See, your lazy inmate has come.
Speak! How long have your doors been shut like this?
Where is Mother?
Open like happy news.
Or else, like bad.
But do open!
Embrace me with a promptness that would put me to shame.

That where my memories end,
Mother would be still living.
That where I bounce around like a ball in my childhood,
a dry wind would be blowing.
Be a punishment, O hut, such as Mother never gave.
Imprison us here so that we may of a sudden glimpse the sky.