I have not read the papers today. Nothing. I did touch the newsprint, though.
These days technology is good, the ink does not blacken your fingers.
I used to like that, the smell of it, the look of it smudged as though I had not merely read something but let it reach right into my soul.
I did not read the newspapers today because they say news has to be fresh and crackling. In new deaths I see old skeletons.
Please tell me, why is it so important to forget?
Let me reproduce one of my old poems; I have done a hurried rough translation:
Agar yaad-daasht buree hoti
To kaafi maslein hal ho jaate
Kal ke dard ka ehsaas nahin hota
Aansoon sookh jaate
Lamhein udd jaate
Phool dafnaye jaate
Murdon ki tarah
Koi kal ki baatein
Aaj nahin dauhrata
Agar yaadein nahin hoti
To gham ka bahaana nahin hota
Khushi ki talash mein
Nikal padne ke liye
Utar aati yaadein
Kisi rail ki patree par
Aur chal padte hum
Pairon ko zameen ki
Asliyat samjhaane ke liye
- - -
If only I could forget
Then no answers would be needed
The pain of the past
Would leave me untouched
Tears would dry
Flowers would be laid to rest
No one would talk about yesterday
If there were no memories
We’d not use the ruse of sorrow
To go seek happiness for the morrow
Derailed nostalgia would recoil
And step down on the rail tracks
Forcing me to walk
And teach my feet the truth about the soil