Trespassing My Ancestral Lands

In my dreams,
I often trespass my ancestral lands,

looking for the centuries
hidden in the hills,

finding the history
lost in the sands,

searching for an oracle
safe in the ruins,

not to be found
and read!

I often venture,
without any food or water,

in the land of five rivers,
emerging through the passages of a glorious civilization,

I have no shoes, only my garb, and a scarf,
that I'm afraid of losing to the desert winds!

An amulet strung around my neck,
reads an Aayat of Quran,

may almighty bless the daughter of the idol worshipers,
out to defy the borders and demarcations.

There were only destinations,
before the birth of nations!

In my dreams
I often wonder,

who carved my face
and disappeared in the winds?

I wonder,
where my ancestors came from?

Were they Aryan, Mughal or Turk?
Greek, Mongol or Tughluq?

What mountains did they cross?
What oceans did they brave?

Before settling in the planes?

And the roads they traveled,
were they made of silk, rocks or gravel?

What battles did they fight,
before surrendering to the light?

Where did they sleep, away from their homes?
In Urdū, Palaces or Viharas?

What food did they eat?
What songs they wrote, and sang?

Did they speak Sanskrit, Prakrit,
Farsi or Pashto?

I'm bewildered in the desert,
like a dervish,

like a Sufi,
leaving behind a trail of songs,

for a caravan lost
in the desert storms.

In my dreams,

I search for Buddha in the forest,
and Muhammad in a cave.

I look for Krishna in the battlefield,
and Chanakya in Takshashila.

In the alleys of towns and villages,
I look for Ghalib, Rumi and Khayyám,

In the temples, I look for Meera, Kabir and Tulsi,
and Rama in a gurukul.

In my dreams,
I remain uncaptured.

In my dreams
my dreams are valid!

In my dreams,
I sleep in the seven continents,

and wake up with the sun
on the roof of the universe,

An eagle hovers over me in the skies,
flapping wings,

shedding colors,
protecting my dreams,

that can never be a part of the history,
you will ever like to write!