They killed two more
In Sopore
Eliminating a generation
Out of routine
Death, the only product
Flooding the colony
-Still untamed-
Of the largest democracy
Imported from Israel
Defining us, our only sympathizer
Death, mass-produced
Manufactured- a monstrous metal
A tear gas shell and a bullet precise
Punching holes, fatal
Voids in our history
Our reflection, blurred
On the waters of time
Perforated
Ugly beyond recognition
Death our only sympathizer
As Farash renders Daiver Hassan
Moate chooro, karith khaeli……
Kids carry death in their school bags
Evening brings news, always
A white shroud, blood smeared
Like the blood of a slaughtered lamb
On the virgin snow
And a school bag
Inside, a report card
Teacher’s remarks:
This kid has a bright future
…..
…..
…..
Kam gul-badan, metzchi andar…….
What tulips! One with earth, six feet under…
Desolate mothers sipping heart attacks
In their pink tea
Fathers breathing cancer in their tobacco
Trying in vain
To accelerate the time
A scholar goes missing
Fades into oblivion
Re-born in the hollow of an aging Chinar
As a madman, Mot. In tatters
He begged
“Just spare the books”
His library burnt to ashes
Leaving him with a half burnt
Kulliyat e Faiz
Singing to himself
Tujhko kitno ka lahu chahiye aye arz- e watan
Blood adds colour
Makes beautiful
The dry narrative of freedom
Until they envy our love
We will compose
The poetry of separation
And every Yusuf is returned
To his Zooni
And there are no more
Interrupted love stories
And we make a headline:
Kashmir is taken!!
As Makkah was taken…
In Sopore
Eliminating a generation
Out of routine
Death, the only product
Flooding the colony
-Still untamed-
Of the largest democracy
Imported from Israel
Defining us, our only sympathizer
Death, mass-produced
Manufactured- a monstrous metal
A tear gas shell and a bullet precise
Punching holes, fatal
Voids in our history
Our reflection, blurred
On the waters of time
Perforated
Ugly beyond recognition
Death our only sympathizer
As Farash renders Daiver Hassan
Moate chooro, karith khaeli……
Kids carry death in their school bags
Evening brings news, always
A white shroud, blood smeared
Like the blood of a slaughtered lamb
On the virgin snow
And a school bag
Inside, a report card
Teacher’s remarks:
This kid has a bright future
…..
…..
…..
Kam gul-badan, metzchi andar…….
What tulips! One with earth, six feet under…
Desolate mothers sipping heart attacks
In their pink tea
Fathers breathing cancer in their tobacco
Trying in vain
To accelerate the time
A scholar goes missing
Fades into oblivion
Re-born in the hollow of an aging Chinar
As a madman, Mot. In tatters
He begged
“Just spare the books”
His library burnt to ashes
Leaving him with a half burnt
Kulliyat e Faiz
Singing to himself
Tujhko kitno ka lahu chahiye aye arz- e watan
Blood adds colour
Makes beautiful
The dry narrative of freedom
Until they envy our love
We will compose
The poetry of separation
And every Yusuf is returned
To his Zooni
And there are no more
Interrupted love stories
And we make a headline:
Kashmir is taken!!
As Makkah was taken…
(Mehran Qureshi)
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