http://www.caravanmagazine.in/poetry/%E2%80%98-death-stella-d%E2%80%99cruz%E2%80%99-and-other-poems
Afzal Ahmed Syed is one of modern Urdu literature’s most highly regarded poets, and certainly its most original one. As the poems here show, he animates and variegates lyric feeling with splashes of narrative zest; to the traditional motifs and themes of Urdu poetry he adds a cosmopolitan irony and a range of unusual and beautifully worked allusions (consider the exquisite reference to Herodotus in ‘On The Way Home From Empress Market’); and, in contrast to the conventional poetic musings and murmurs of the self, he loves to dive into the vivid worlds of a range of protagonists—often women—who under the light of his attention come to seem both plebeian and mythic. We infer the nature of the lyric speaker from what he says about others. These poems are all taken from Syed’s collection Rococo aur Doosri Dunyaen (Rococo and Other Worlds), a major work recently translated into English by the writer Musharraf Ali Farooqi, and published in India this month by Yoda Press. The Death of Stella D’Cruz On Anklesaria Hospital’s fourth floor Stella D’Cruz died leaving over ten thousand unpaid in bills Proceedings were initiated for her last rites at Our Lady of Fatima Church for the overdraft at Allied Bank A few days ago these two institutions had declared her persona non-grata for kissing in public, and passing a bad cheque, respectively With professional skill everything was settled Around the black coffin pews in Our Lady of Fatima filled up Poorly recorded dirges filled up the church for the melodious Stella D’Cruz On the Way Home From Empress Market Every weekend dutiful Porochista Dastur must needs visit the hideous Empress Market’s beef section In her gypsy blouse and drab skirt Porochista Dastur could be considered immune to Tetrapodic and other loves One could readily believe she wouldn’t set foot in shabby hotels, estate agencies, or wet dreams nor take the elevator alone with another man Carrying the load of beef Porochista Dastur before she boards the bus at the approach of the half-deserted Somerset Street steps up to the first floor of the crumbling Duarte Building and makes water standing— as the girls of Egypt did, on the authority of Herodotus A Picture on Page 163 She has no occasion to remember her city sitting by a foreign river’s bank She is perfectly happy in the Mahakhali settlement which is the subject of discussion in a lecture delivered in Copenhagen She could even swim to the garment factory where she had started work after finishing her matriculation Every week, on a shared VCR she watches three movies in succession And on the first of every month buys a whole kilo of hilsa fish for home She has no sick father, reprobate brother, or an unknown enemy And it is not that she is fated to remain a spinster There is a boy He teaches in a school And has no mind to become a driver in New York or a cook in Karachi She is happy under her tin roof in her house of bamboo walls When she was not chosen for a role in the community theatre she felt no regrets Just today she was included in a contingent of girls protesting outside the office of the water supply authority Nobody taught her how to be happy She knew it by instinct She does not know where the poverty line crosses her body Her poor country has become independent twice She is freer and happier than the rest of the world