Recoiling With Rumi

By Chris Wardle/Hamza

I was not ready for this. 

 

The noise, the crowd,

the opportunism laying siege

to the blocks surrounding

Kathmandu’s Jame Masjid. 

 

Hoping for peace and reverence,

I’m stunned by the jostling certainty of entitlement

from kurta edges pushed at me in

confidently-demanding expectation. 

 

I recoil from the crowd’s probing

and the cacophony of bright balloon sellers,

ice-cream wallas,

and my multipli-enhanced commoditisation. 

 

Even the welcome contrast

of dupattas quietly stretched

between gently-modest hijabi’d women

on the Ratnapark sky bridge,

fails to incite me to engage

in the ongoing battle

of access to the mosque. 

 

Driven from this external “den”,

I walk three blocks,

seeking refuge in a quiet tea house,

from where my sense of gratitude is refreshed

by the innocent smile of the waitress,

the sing-song voice of her toddler,

and the joyful service of our Uncle,

lovingly preparing fresh chiya pakora. 

 

Hamza writes with mixed feelings

on this Eid in a Hindu country,

but finds peace in Rumi’s echoing voice … 

 

“Let the Beauty we love be what we do.

There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.”

 

Chris Wardle (Hamza) writes with an eye for wonder, a taste for questions, and a sense of proximity to the Sacred. He resides in Australia’s far north.