I see myself courageous, pitiable though
My heart is bursting,
blood shot eyes, trembling feet,
pong breath and broken-backed
I see my thede in brutal hands, the then savior and the now enslaver.
People we believed in, deceived us
Who we trusted the most, betrayed beaucoup.
Whose names we bewed with our faith, perfidy us in return.
For their lusty, selfish interests
I see my promises never kept,
I don’t made them, they made
They went to UN, they made resolutions,
They call it ‘dispute’
Now they turn a deaf ear
They rape my rights,
They turn down altogether
I see World noticing my fettle,
Watching transgression of their codes, conventions, Yes they do…
But still turn a blind eye
For what reason?..For humanitarian?
For their bloody materialistic greed that makes me to gainstay.
I see We agitating Our rights- Inherent and intrinsic
Against a Nation, the nation which is:
Paramount– in kind
Uncivilized– in nature
Communal– in character
Deceptive– in behaviour
Cunning– in attitude and
Merciless and Wild in form but still ‘Bharat Mahaan’ in name.
I see how they butchered Muslims,
5 lac in Jammu (the unwritten archive)
The ethnic cleansing,
That communal character,
The Hitlerish regime
Hitler is known, India unknown
I see what they made us to believe,
In the corridors of tyranny, we enjoyed serenity
The days of abyss and mayhem were an unruffled firth
The Khaki-worn soldier – my sentry, the sentry of my chastity, esteem, reverence, honor and veneration.
My arse, ‘mon cul’.
I see my days of infancy back,
wherefrom this conflict came with my genetic baggage
Our pastime ‘Military-Mujahid’
Military- the fierce, inauspicious- the villain
Mujahid- the ruthful, compassionate- the Hero
Mujahid strife against Indian Military
Is my Hero indeed.
I see this ‘Military’- A khaki-worn,
A black hat
Ratifying carte blanche
Willy nilly kill, rape, torture, maim, mutilate and mangle
Holding a licence to
I see my people shouldering
Coffins of my heros- the Mujahideen
Father encoffin his son,
Brother engrave his brother
Wife showering petals on her husband
“Mujahid dies to live forever”
I see my mothers mourning,
My sisters and my daughters.
They lament by singing elegies
Beating their chests though
These threnodies are precautions
Others embrace, antiphon the orisons.
I see our chastity on auction
We need not daughters!
You think misogynic? Not really
They are tottering, they feel precarious
It is; ‘Saviors are Looters’
Saviors? Shagaholic, bloody looters.
I see justice in Kunan Poshpora,
Where grandmothers, gramps,
Mothers, brothers, sisters and daughters Waiting.
Justice is a wound, more you wait, more it get healed
Justice is waiting, waiting is forgetting.
I see rape and torture
Asia and Neelofer
Shopian to Dardpora, Uri and Handwara
Kishtawar and Baramulla, Srinagar and Kupwara
They tortured, they raped, they maimed, they killed
‘they are roaming gratis’
I see the nocturnal, the diurnal foray,
Barging in.. Pillaging the property and looting
Knocking off jewels, goods… lifting the books even
Petrifying families and beating the crap outa them
I see the cavalries, the convoys
Crackdowning the communes, the throps.
Flinging out the naive bairns,
the sackless people……
whose screams and howls piercing the heavens.
And so arson the entire throp.
I see my comrade on street,
bathing in blood, screaming and yelling.
Holding stone in hand and facing the savage, ..the vicious retaliation.
Putting up the pebble against a bullet
The sling in retort, pierces……annihilates.
I see Resistance is Existence
Resistance is fidelity, Resistance is fervor
Resistance is an opium,
that stupefies the senses of slavery
Resistance brisks the soul, brings fire in the belly
I Resist till I Exist
Resistance is my choice….
* Poet is pursuing BA LLB from University of Kashmir.
Disclaimer: Views expressed are exclusively personal and do not necessarily reflect the stand of Oracle Opinions.