The Minuscule Creatures

by Syeda Kanwal Batool Naqvi

Remembering the old-gone days

While sitting alone, at the prayer mat, after Fajar

Every muscle of the body in the state of crisp

due to icy, frosty, blustery winters,

Listening to the silence of surroundings

An ant, passing by-

The immediate memory crop up in the mind

The girls sitting on the ground

Holding the pens—blues and whites

Putting the marks, as much as they can,

on the gaster of the ants,

thinking they might see them again

Alive, fractured, shrunk, or dead

Here

or there,

or somewhere,

or anywhere

As we live on an oblate spheroid.

But, we do not always meet people-

or see things, we once encountered.

time passes, things change, seasons shift, and years transform-

Marking a shift from the Human beings to post human beings

From different people to people indifferent to each other

As of now-

Rarely one notices,

The minuscule creatures around them.