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“Perverse times have come
The mystery of the Beloved to reveal

Crows have begun to hunt hawks,
Sparrows have vanquished falcons.
Horse browse on rubbish,
Donkeys graze on lush green.
No love is lost between relatives,
Be they younger or older uncles.

There is no accord between fathers and sons,
nor any between mothers and daughters.
The truthful ones are being pushed about,
the tricksters are seated close by,
the front-liners have become wretched,
the backbenchers sit on carpets.
Those in taters have turned into Kings,
The Kings have taken to begging.
Oh Bullah, comes the command from the Lord,
who can ever alter His decree?

Perverse times have come,
The mystery of the beloved to reveal”
― Bullhe Shāh

“It was hollow, my triumph, I could feel that, but I held on to it just the same.”
― Jamaica Kincaid, Lucy

“Once you cease to be a master, once you throw off your master's yoke, you are no longer human rubbish, you are a human being, and all the things that adds up to. So, too, with the slaves. Once they are no longer slaves, once they are free, they are no longer noble and exalted; they are just human beings.”
― Jamaica Kincaid, A Small Place

“On their way to freedom, some people find riches, some people find death.”
― Jamaica Kincaid, Lucy