The Door / by Aamir Bilal

Some thoughts crawl under the skin at this time of night.
They have tentacles.
Thoughts about a door.
The door that never opened.
I knocked again.
And waited.
But I heard no sound.
Of keys.
Of locks getting unlocked.
Of steps.
Nothing
But I had a hope.
So I kept sitting.
And waiting.
Till the night fell.
And it was dark.
But I heard no sound.
Of keys.
Of locks getting unlocked.
Of steps.
Nothing.
...

After years
Today.
So many doors opened.
New doors.
So many doors.
And I can walk through them.
But that charm has vanished.
I am sitting on the pavement.
Watching those who opened them.
Where were they
Earlier
When I needed them.
When I knocked.
And heard no sound.
Of keys.
Of locks getting unlocked.
Of anything!

Even at this time of night
I see a door.
Far across the road.
The door that never opened.

Aamir Ali Bilal
(24th Jan 2010 / 1:39 AM / Karachi)