Freedom and Rebellion
By Shahid Lone
My soul passes through villages, towns and cities,
Hearing the echoes of freedom colored with crimson cries;
My soul sours in the firmament of that promised dawn,
The dawn of unbound, complete freedom and rising with brawn;
Freedom which is worth to long and die,
No commanding not demanding, when and why;
My acquaintances of freedom, scattered here and there,
Giving me a by-heart call, the empathy of being near;
Though, my eyes try to hide and keep emotions at bay,
Their empathy says nay, we also Die thousand deaths a day;
But the frozen silence which has engulfed and flooded my home,
Makes my eyes numb and twilight turns to be a specter of Rome;
But lo and behold! the bravado and steadfastness of my rebel brothers,
Most martyred and few alive, strengthen me and the covenant ushers;
Their toiling day in the battlefield is the unsettled peace of my night,
Their green shrouds, honored martyrdom and ruptured processions is my torchlight;
The perseverance of people, hymns of heaven and the ballads of freedom
Assure me naught but the day of glory, the dawn of freedom.
(Shahid Lone is a Doctoral Candidate in Political Economy at Jamia Millia Islamia, New Delhi. He can be reached at shahidlone5@gmail.com)
