Glitzy sacred bricks
Baked in the fire of love…
The fire to burn this barbed wire!
Brick bakers; stone throwers tied a knot,
Walls take a deep sigh
With thirty thousand footprints
Whose wounded feet, elsewhere, unhealed!
Green lawns razed under black boots
Rusted iron bars, rusted wounds, unhealed!
Blood spilled on the paths…
Green and red; a nasty permutation!
Peace fled; abode less pigeons are caged
In the nerve-racking prison cells…
Faces disfigured, Sockets empty; an advanced pillage…
With his thirty thousand; deprived choir
Tied with carved memories
Memories of Free State…
He will break his shackles
He will muster the muted mob
He will explode his innervolcano
To give a call…
Under the shadow of iron machinery
Which has ghasted the ghastly beings…
A Scary silence!
Saint, the refugee,sighing under the sky roof
Caught in curfew,
Longing for his dark nook where his tears are stored
In the glass jars adorning his roof
Along with the red spots…
Smelling a sweet scent
Stored to spread, one day…
To heal the wounded feet
To figure the disfigured faces
To fill in the empty sockets
To rub the carved memories
To be sown to plant…
An apple tree!
The writer is a doctoral fellow at the Department of English, Aligarh Muslim University. He is working on Resistance Literature. The poem was written during the Kashmir-Unrest 2016. It is dedicated to Jamia Masjid Srinagar which remained under siege for around six months.
Disclaimer: Views expressed are exclusively personal and do not necessarily reflect the position of Oracle Opinions.