19.1. Dhritabrata Bhattacharya Tato
at area called 'Nizamuddin, New Delhi.'

House of Lost Lovers

The golden haze looms large
All twists and turns lead to the same destiny
Throngs of djinns looking over the celestial balconies
Only the lost lovers march through this lane
Pristine white marble floor soaked seven centuries of sweat and tears
Those who shed blood
Their palaces have turned into wilderness
Our city has history but no descendant
The call of the muezzin ends when the chorus of singers say
‘If I don't see the lovers and friends how shall I survive the darkness of night’*
Lost lovers are blind
So they can reach the beloved
In hand hold roses and candle
That’s what angels demand at the door of paradise.

*the line in italics is a line from a poem in Urdu
by Amir Khusrau translated by Tato

Image of a rose-petal vendor, The video à droite (click sur l'image) is of the qawwali concert at the tomb, followed by the song we sing before to close the door of the dargah an