Backyard Poetry Club

Backyard Poetry Club prose poem

Photo by nevil zaveri

A motley group had made an affiliation of sorts
It sprouted and mushroomed in our back lane
And there was born a poetry club with no name
Passion it was for the verses written in Urdu
That linked them beyond their social precincts.

Jagtar the sardar tailor, loved Ahmad Faraz
Akbar Khan, the mason, wrote poetry, and
Admired Ghalib, for his exceptional style
Dashmesh, the ladies lingerie shopkeeper,
Chose Sheikh Saadi as his favourite poet

And there was Nancy, the fourth angle of
This tangle, the aristocrat, with no fiefdom,
With loads of “unfinished tasks” which she
Often tried to skip, to make room for Ghalib
And Faiz, whom she read in another script.

Though not her mother tongue, Urdu made
Her experience her existence more intensely.
It must have all started, when in a moment
Of emotional piquancy, and weariness with
The world, one of them must have uttered a

Ghazal or a rubaiyat and the other might have
Responded with yet another couplet in Urdu.
The club continues to exist, even though they
Have parted ways, in more ways than one:
The old mason died leaving behind his handiwork.

Nancy shifted lock, stock out of the old locality
The aging Jagtar is fascinated as ever in poetry.
When his favourite Faraz died, Nancy gifted
Him with his collected works, bought at the
Condolence meeting held for the late Faraz.

Poetry transcended the fences and defences
Of divine and earthly, of gender and pretender
This connect continues to weave its web today
In my back yard, where Rambir a vegetable vender
Utters his dispossession by reciting dohas of Kabir

Poet’s Note –
Based on my growing up experience in a South Delhi residential colony which was pitted along an old semi rural pocket, so common in Delhi. The daily provisions were bought and repairs were done from these convenience stores….some people interested in poetry found common ground, and became friends…and the connection lasted. Nancy is my mother, who despite studying and teaching English literature is very fond of Urdu!!

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (1 votes, average: 4.00 out of 5)
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?

Archana Kaul

Signup / Login to follow the poet.
Experienced researcher and freelance writer, who has written articles for newspapers on various subjects. An articulate teacher, with experience of teaching students of History B.A. (Honours). Possess communication and analytical skills that helped while working (teaching dance and theatre) with young children in the voluntary sector. Running a Non Profit Organisation in East Delhi, Srijanatmak Manushi Sanstha
Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

4 Comments on "Backyard Poetry Club"

Notify of
Sort by:   newest | oldest
Ramapriya Nr

Very interestingly has oven the chain of poets and their influence on the people around. nice poem

Nadeem Qazilbash

Urdu poetry, has fans from all walks of life, truly diverse.


A Poem From Mud Poetry By Doug Jackson

A Poem From Mud Poetry By Doug Jackson elegy

And with a gust of defeat; the future seems familiar. Has the oneness forgotten about me? The interconnectedness of futile Embellishments followed by straights of garbage, lack-luster trash, soul-less sirens of shit-laced spines, irrelevance, trains without brakes. Exposure, death, the

One Poem From Mud Poetry

One Poem From Mud Poetry elegy

Strangers from incident, lies for distance, pitfalls of living infrequent, Rushes of sympathy pass over like fever sweat. In concurrent motion the wolves swarm on the lifeless carcass. Impending emotions fill the hole in my stomach, my chest continues to

Locked In Poetry

Locked In Poetry sonnet poems

I’ll let you know some things if I may, Like a captor addressing a prisoner to be. Words like ropes that do not fray, I am locking you in my poetry. It is selfish of me to hold you like

Poetry Vs Royalty

Poetry Vs Royalty ballad

Of splendid thrones of gold or treasures manifold Of jewelled caskets or lavish banquets Of Emirs and rajahs Of Sultan and Shahs Of kings and queens Of rulers and emperors Of sparkling crowns or flowing gowns Of their subservient stewards

Momma’s Poetry

Mommas Poetry short poem

Momma! I am your poem. From that mountain hole Too many pains left And from the island of the vexation A little pleasure on the journey twinkle They made  a missiles I was fabricated just below your heart  And I am