The Kashmir Pulse

Took away from me this opulence, fame
And even this young stage as well
But bring me back those childhood memories, the “paper boat”

And the monsoon rain as a “bell”
The old memories of my vicinity
The old woman known as grand-mother

In her talks, a group of fairies
In her expressions, the worldly dairies
If one tries to forget; can’t forget

The short night and the long story set
On a hot day, leaving the homes aside
Catching sparrows, nightingales and butterflies

Those gifts of brass-angles
Those scars of broken bangles
An innocent wish of our own idea

Everything in the notions - our own area
Neither worldly concern nor relations and strife
The beautiful was childhood life!

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The poem is a translation of one of the poems of Sudarshan Faakir

This post first appeared on The Kashmir Pulse

Where has my childhood gone?
Has it hidden its face among stars?
Is it lost in forests?
Is it stolen by thieves?
Is it conquered by enemies?
Is it imprisoned in a cell?
Is it wandering here and there?
Is it found in children’s faces?
Is it in the bottoms of deep oceans?
Is it on the top of the mountains?
Is it found in a dream?
Is it in a fairyland?

Where has my childhood gone?
Please tell me who snatched my childhood from me.
I want to play in the grassland,
I want to catch fish in a small stream,
I want to steal almonds,

Where has my childhood gone?
I want to be innocent,
I want to be original.
Please take me back.
Take my belongings;
But give me back my childhood.

This post first appeared on The Kashmir Pulse