3

I learn the meaning of Urdu words from a 

Punjabi woman with long, dark hair. Zarf, 

she says, means the capacity to forgive, to 

endure. What is this life if all we need to do 

is survive it? What is the weight of a prayer, 

a wish? I hope it is light enough to ascend to 

heaven, even if it comes from the heaviest 

of hearts. Maraasim — the plural of rasm — 

the rituals of keeping a relationship. Visiting 

a sick person is an act of charity, they say. 

How long will the malaise of our existence 

bring no visitors to our doorsteps? The 

sympathy of our days adds up. We have no 

place to keep it. Leaving it under trees will 

haunt them. How easily we have forgotten 

the rasm of give and take. We have become 

Gaafil, like she says, beparwah, negligent. 

In such deep slumber (while being awake) 

that we are unaware the water is overflowing, 

the hot air is skirting in front of the door, 

the leaves are drying steadily. Maybe it 

was a custom to forgive our life. Maybe 

it is not a custom anymore.