By Ishfaq Yatoo
That dreadful sight!
When I peeped through my glass pane
And saw some tall khaki robed man;
A scary view under my neighbour’s portico!
Quivering and Thirsty…
Thirst of Blood!
Social to unsocial…
Mouthpiece of chair-mongers…
Some sudden shots, explosions, thundering; constant
Caught me head to toe
Added by Ami’s cries; her wails!
“Rameez! Rameez! Beta your friend; shaheeeed”
A paroxysm, assailed my poor heart!
Again I peeped and saw him
Being carried by the front street
Amidst the sky touching slogan ‘Naar e Takbeer’
Hurriedly joined, I…
A budding superstar!
A blooming flower turned red stained!
Those rosy lips, lily cheeks…
Sheer victim of brutality!
Who could pity the little innocence…
“Your last rites, your funeral sight
reminded me of Sajad,
A childhood chap, silenced!
Silenced, to chop my chest
1, 2, only 3 years now…
Again everything wintery around!
Another rose emaciated,
Another star clouded, another innocent lost!
None else, only your shadow; deserves to be called Shakir…
All of you carried a ‘tag’…
A tag but, situational…
A failed political situation!
Giants, yet couldn’t set your sorry state
They carry an unjustified justice
High pedestal, high failure!
Weren’t you like those thousands and lakhs; only crime…
Were you a violent or violated by a violent political crunch?
My heart is aching, where are you!”
I am a tramp tattered of my robes in this chilling cold
Silence, dumbness, a scarecrow; a crackdown, a curfew; all confounded!
Paradise is hazy
Conscience will return
To the skull of its ‘pedestal’…
1, 2, 3…7 decades!
Who will mark these unmarked graves?
Still waiting wives; widows or not!
Still waiting mothers; childless or not!
Still waiting children; orphans or not!
Still neighbours, far behind The Jawahar Tunnel…
Failed Political State…
Bright careers cut short!
Is this young blood so cheap?
Nothing happens, but
*Poet hails from district Sopore, Jammu and Kashmir.