The City of Jewels

By Shayaan Khusro

 

In the heart of the Subcontinent

Rests the City of Jewels

That can only be seen at a night

That hides the moon from sight.

 

It was built by the djinns using

Diamonds, rubies and more gems

To protect their homes from

The pitch-black pools of evil

That await the chance

To swallow the city whole.

The city’s roads are molten gold

That burns through the pits of despair.

They reflect the fiery ones as they travel

To their homes, markets and workplaces.

 

When the sun rises

Its light blankets the city

And banishes the darkness.

The jewels refract the sunlight

Splitting it into a myriad of colours

That engulfs the city in a mirage

From all ten directions.

The moonlight powers the spell at night.

 

If a traveller were to arrive here

At a time other than a moonless night,

They would find nothing but concrete ruins,

Cold, silent and eerie,

As if djinns are not celebrating life

Right in front of them.

 

If they dare step in,

They will fall asleep at one gate

And wake up at the opposite one,

Unaware of what transpired.

Those who enter on a moonless night,

Never return because they are spellbound.

 

If you wish to catch a glimpse

But don’t want to be enchanted,

Then you must fly above it

On a night bereft of the moon.

The Sealed Vault

By Shayaan Khusro 

After crossing two oceans and Hope’s Cape, 

The adventurer reaches the Golden Temple, 

Even more wondrous than the legends 

With walls of solid gold, inside and outside, 

And golden deities carved upon them,  

Bestowing blessings upon all who enter. 

 

Underneath the temple are five vaults, 

Each shut with doors of solid gold 

Adorned with tales of gods and men,  

Each filled to the brim with more gold 

Left by kings and pilgrims over millennia, 

Except the sixth one at the corridor’s end, 

Bound by stone snake dragons, grey as ash, 

Baring fangs against all who even think of the door. 

 

No one knows what lies in that vault, 

Only that once shut it was never unshut. 

The monks warn of horrors and doom 

To befall the globe should it open. 

Natives imagine plagues, curses and demons 

Trapped by the ancient heroes until Kaliyug. 

 

All who speak of it plead against opening it 

And when the adventurer doesn’t relent, 

The king imprisons him with threats of execution. 

But the adventurer is deaf to pleas and threats, 

He hears one question in his head repeatedly 

That drives him to escape imprisonment 

And rush towards possible doom:  

“What’s inside?”  

Hills Wrapped In Stars

By Shayaan Khusro

Among the foothills of Him,

Lie hills like any other

But less green from man’s touch.

But when the night sets in,

Bringing cold but no moonlight,

The hills wrap themselves in

A black shawl studded with stars.

Stars which shapeshift constellations

With every mile crossed.

The stars which flow in galaxies

In the valley between the hills,

Which will lead you home,

If you dare to dive into it.

Beneath The Red Moon

By Shayaan Khusro

Beneath the red moon,

Over Thar’s sand dunes,

As men shiver during the chilly night,

Shadows take flight,

Men roam the streets with naked swords,

Out there to protect their wards,

Mothers tuck their children sound and safe,

Though they are themselves unsafe,

Travelers find no refuge,

For every guest is a suspect,

Temples and mosques hold prayers,

All day long,

Witches and warlocks perform rituals,

All night long,

For the shadows aren’t out for fun,

They are out on a hunt.