In a New York highrise A man is arrested for Keeping a pet Bengal tiger

I see the coal eyes of the tiger Eyeing the cops, his low growls Over the blaring sirens

The invisible metaphor Is full realized here, One man’s dente with The beast in cramped quarters

Rustle of fiery fur, and underneath, Tight muscular sinews snug Against his body as the tiger Feeds from the same table

Meat from the man’s hand, Running his coarse tongue against The palm itself: the meniscus

Of trust and control before the cops Burst in, and handcuff his wrists To sever him from the jaws’ invisible grip

Today we seperate with no apprehension for tomorrow But life after all is not as concise as this

Our bloody wounds don’t show as yet, But when they cool pain will emerge And when time’s intoxication will cease, From inside our sallow faces will emerge

How do they matter these gossips’ words For they stake nothing on them? Who shall respond to the interrogation of wounds When all people do is ask endless questions?

When tomorrow arrives, who is to know what will come? Past’s tomorrows that are already done, they don’t return Those who gather branches from time’s tree should Know how no leaves can grow from what is broken

Of wet clay is this heart, this man Only to sight do they appear hard And if tears ask why, it will also take a while For their tracks to wipe them dry and answer

Translated from the Urdu. You may also listen to Bhupinder sing this melodic ghazal from the movie "Thodisi Bewafai".