The Kashmir Pulse

You are born out of me. Why do you want to kill me? I am your mother, sister, wife, daughter. Why you are not safeguarding me? I want to dress up as I like to. Why it is bothering you?

I too want to go on an evening walk. Why I need to be home-bound? Dude! I do have to attend my patient during night duty. Why are you not allowing me to save the life?

I am so decently dressed, what makes you harm me? I have left my home to serve you. Why are you not understanding this? I am gone now but you might be the next target. Why are you silent……???

Immodesty in our society is on its peak. Enmeshing our conscience like a lifeless teak. Despite having enlightened people in societies on various positions But our inner conscience has turned very weak. No one is ready to stop its prevalence So that our disturbed society may get convalescence.

Societies are still lingering in an egregious menace All we need is to clear its presence. Our benumbed hearts are getting harder day by day The evils which are getting stronger day after day. Thinking impudence in public domain as a common approach Is verily leading to an untold annihilation, despite having a coach.

Being impudent in our behaviour, Is undoubtedly heralding subversion for coming days. Let’s call to everyone to douse the flames very soon Or time isn’t far away when our fate is doom. Oh, God! Get our faith resuscitated once again with your mercy, So we may get rid of the brazen evils in our society.

Immodesty in our society is on its peak. Enmeshing our conscience like a lifeless teak. Despite having enlightened people in societies on various positions But our inner conscience has turned very weak. No one is ready to stop its prevalence So that our disturbed society may get convalescence.

Societies are still lingering in an egregious menace All we need is to clear its presence. Our benumbed hearts are getting harder day by day The evils which are getting stronger day after day. Thinking impudence in public domain as a common approach Is verily leading to an untold annihilation, despite having a coach.

Being impudent in our behaviour, Is undoubtedly heralding subversion for coming days. Let’s call to everyone to douse the flames very soon Or time isn’t far away when our fate is doom. Oh, God! Get our faith resuscitated once again with your mercy, So we may get rid of the brazen evils in our society.

“The poet of exile” is receded into oblivion. One who never parted with Kashmir, we parted from him. His poems only speak of Kashmir and Kashmir. From Zero Bridge to the Gupkar Road, Rajbagh was in his veins.

The Saffron of Pampore mesmerized him and the water of the Jhelum was pious for him. The man of mixed races never forgot Kashmir. In an alien world, being a refugee, his heart beat for his motherland. Alleys and streets of Kashmir pierced his heart to ooze out dark red blood.

From Haakh to Roganjosh, he found solace in the local varieties of everything. Combining the grief of Muharram with the endless miseries of the Kashmiris, Shahid wrote the Zainab’s sighs like the heart-piercing sighs of the Kashmiri mothers and sisters. Our thread of brotherhood was cut into pieces by bloodsuckers.

The bloodsuckers drank our young blood to laugh in mirth. Shahid, the ambassador of Kashmir’s pain, could not reconcile with it and began to write the blood-dripping poetry. His fingers were hurt when he wrote about unprecedented massacres in his homeland. The same Azaan reminded him of those throats that were slit in the nameless graveyards.

Shahid is reminded by me as we are exiled from our homes long ago. In Shahid’s poetry, everyone is a refugee. Faiz and Ishmael are just allusions. “Rooms are never finished” is apt for Kashmir. Making abodes daily, we begin to construct them anew.

Shahid didn’t die in autumn in Kashmir to sleep in peace. Though his grave lies in the exiled land, Shahid lives in every heart of Kashmir that are graves in themselves.

Dear Shahid, we will meet at Srinagar and talk endlessly. The Jhelum will look clean and the smell of roasted hearts will be replaced by the hot Nunchai. Begum Akhtar will be listened to by us And Faiz will return from Beirut.

On a long road, there is no companion. Only memories accompany me all through. Moments of love pierce like a dagger and a pool of blood flows out. Past flashes like a wave, which is hard like a stone.

Dust rises high above the habitations and blur the visibility. In this maze, I am walking alone. Birds fly towards their nests, with their colours fading. The trees are fragile and the wind is hard.

Infants in the nests cower in fear and I can hear their fright. In the side by stream, a corpse is devoured by vultures. Water in it is red and the identity proofs are smeared with dirt. Armoured vehicles pass like a hurricane and fill the atmosphere with dread.

On a long road, there is no companion. The playground of children is a graveyard now. Everywhere decrees are installed. Trespassers will be shot.

Marked stones with religious symbols meet the eyes. Wolves are teaming up in the autumn fields. Harvest is what they are playing with. Their intentions are bad. On a long road, I am without companions.

In an old hamlet of memories Suddenly I passed there I covered some miles alone Captured bundles of stories I break off on the fringe of the calm ocean And sat on a broken wooden bench

Leaned over the shoulder of my own shadow I start counting happiness and worries Caravan of tears began to creep And fragile heart starts bumping From trembling lips, words slipped down Where are companions and enemies?

An unheard voice struck through my ears Echoed back with the bottom line Hey… an ephemeral traveller Nothing persists, but memories

Society is the circle, Which locates only one center, When passes a diameter, It becomes the semicircular. A colourful side and black & white. Where a white is called the might, And he thinks I am always right.

Where a black always fight, And never gets a right. So-called mighty people go on and on. And they never realise that they're wrong. Society you are the mighty wild! Because you have destroyed so many children! What kind of society do we have? Where women are molested and rapers called themselves brave!

Society, are you filthy? If not, then do show some mercy! I hope the day shall surely come! When we shall rise up as one!

Oh, wind! Take my message to my life who lives far away from the masked people. My life has gone somewhere to live there happily. There are every kind of lively things there. The sun is not so hot and the moon is bright. Breezes are common there and the nerves are often soothed.

Oh, wind! Tell my life to be happy. Here, everything hurts. People deceive but act like innocent. In the burning hearts, flames of hatred pierce the soft bodies. The streets are red because the crimes don’t stop. Mothers are dead and the fathers are lost. Sons and daughters are killed in broad daylight. Oh, wind! Be a messenger for a moment and take my message to my life.

We will meet at the confluence of rivers. Different tastes will meet in a single place. Tragedies and comedies will merge into one. Tales of the remote world will be heard.

Sunshine, as well as darkness, will brighten and darken the event. The calm waters, as well as the roaring waters, will halt for a moment. Life, as well as death, will be the same. Acquaintances and strangers will meet once.

The meeting will be exotic. Innumerable companions will be together. Birds will sing soothing songs. Small brooks will dance in ecstasy. Pure water will reflect our true shadows. Let us meet at the confluence of rivers, For life is very short.

Apart from me, you are happy Like me, you too are a fraud

On the wall, I saw a crescent I thought there, you were present

The budding flowers are targeting high Exactly as you are the laughing sky

The dusk tells me at every shore What type of clothes you wore

Matter of heart, I read expressions At the sea coast, you count the waves

With the world, you alone are fighting How childish you are talking!

The poem is a translation of an Urdu poem by Bashir Badr

You are the moon of my twinkle rays I long for your nights and days My love is scattering through your ways Ah! Your habit of eating American Lays I hold my head down When I see you on earth brown

I always remember you Because my love is like the dew Since you deceived my draft letter I loved you more and can't deter A thousand times I tried to forget you My effort is….but a rue!

My eyes are down to earth not towards the sky Because you are the apple of my eye! The June becomes longest May In your dreams, there seems night like a day! When you will accept my “Lovely Note” Oh! When God will dip my boat!

When mounds of poison are eaten every day, innocence is lost. When blood is spilt for nothing, innocence is lost. When, in place of love, hatred grows into a strong poisonous tree, innocence is lost. Watching murderers roaming freely while innocent are dying in dungeons, at this time, innocence is lost.

Double faces preaching morality while having stone hearts, innocence is again lost. Showing seeds of love while harvesting fruits of poison, slaughters innocence. When the sun rises reluctantly and the moon is forced to shine, innocence screams. Innocence is lost when the calm rivers spit hidden blood, without any trace of culprits.

When noises are endless while eloquent talks are missing, innocence is permanently lost. When a lover loves his beloved but is murdered for the same, innocence is lost. I have forgotten when I was innocent. In the shadows of brutality, our innocence is hidden among the gloomy stars.

A restricted and caged bird, Craves to fly freely across the borders.

A prisoner in a filthy jail cell, Yearns to breathe undefiled free air.

A bedridden and ailing patient, Hankers for an immediate and swift recovery.

A kindergarten kid in school, Covets to romp with fellows on the ground.

An accused in the courtroom, Aspires for an early acquittal.

Captive animals in zoos, sanctuaries and parks, Desire to roam candidly in jungles.

Snowbound commuters on the highway, Anxiously dream of reaching their destinations.

Every living being on this planet, Is abhorrent of the life's bondage, And possesses an affinity for freedom.

From dawn to dusk, constant invocations are on my lips, Waiting for your reappearance on the earth. It sounds like a body of bones smells the fresh air Sometimes flames of waiting turn barren While sometimes the fruits of waiting turn ripe.

Sans your existence, life is full of gloom Reappearing in the brutal world is your bloom. Befalling tragedies upon the innocent people Has been the trend in this barbaric world. Waiting restlessly for the end of all calamities

When mercy will fall like a shower. How long will you dwell in occultation? The arteries of love can’t wait for meditation. Oh, God! Have mercy upon distorted souls yet again Hasten the reappearance of the Twelfth Light once again.

In the deep rainy forests, everything is serene While my desert is crying aghast. My heart is restless, Searching for you in vain.

Streets are there to carry my pain While the lamps are to heal. I am still finding the monsoon rain With withered flowers in my hands.

I am being assaulted by stones Through the lanes of your modern city. Something in my heart croons To conquer this atmosphere of gloom.

I want to meet you, but where are you? My eyes are tired of watching your eyes. Though, you are far from away from me. Your Qais is waiting for you to come.

You know my bouncing when I look into you, You know my sobbing when I look into you, You know my winking when I look into you, You know my attitude when I look into you.

You keep straight when I show the teeth, You keep calm when I cry in front of you, You keep brightening and hold my breath, You keep reflecting my scar, when I look into you.

You also betrayed me in white light, By demonstrating the flashing sight, You also didn't stop me from atrocious nights And kept watching me likewise in the same light.

Just like you are playing with me in the dark, But are easily hiding from me in the dark, That's how you are brightening me, Perhaps you have chosen to darken me in the dark.

Let me tell you about my world, If you can understand, know this world, It's switching within seconds, having lucids I am not attaining but cannot decline this world.

Coffee beans have chosen one corner, Black shadows saved being as a hider, Pearls are listening to Diamond's talks The candyman had been eaten, he is shudder.

As the sun is brightening, the sky is gleaming, As the night is darkening, the stars are shining, As things are changing, the truth is hiding. As the stage is replaced, the way is shifting.

Some silents had made me violent And some violence made me silent, Everyone knows my silence and violence, Failed in getting the reasons for my mates.

Dolls have been killed in their pumpkin carrier, Teddy's are sewed, have made barriers, Callously, they have put knives on cotton Veneration and tie became the suppressor.

I couldn’t unveil you – O Silky face You were just like the dew – O silky face Perhaps, thee clothes were new To my eyes I demand a few – O silky face

While I went there, nothing but only Your shadow in between the avenue – O silky face And the gardens were closed abruptly When the flowers listened your walking hue – O silky face

The birds stopped chirping in no time As now they want to review – O silky face The race in my heart has been postponed So I decided next date because of you – O silky face

I am walking through a mob of people. Some faces are familiar while a majority are strangers. Different bodies with different dresses, but death is common.

I look at them but my eyes fall down. I see the murderous eyes staring at me. Everyone is at fight.

Some are tearing the clothes of others while many are sewing the bodies. A line of people is waiting for water, but the taps are running blood. The blood is coming from an innocent land.

Now the fight has begun who will take more blood. But nobody cares about whose blood this is. The owner of the blood is a living-dead body whose blood is afresh always.

The sycophants need blood for sampling to perpetuate the genocide. In the meantime, the red rain has begun to fall. All the people are running here and there with their hands smeared with innocent blood.

The owner is calling for his blood. But I am surprised to know that the living-dead is me. I can’t believe that I am both living and dying.

Ah, I understand that I belong to the innocent land, Where the living-dead are both alive and dead. The sniffing dogs are on the prowl and I have to hide.

In the nearby cave, some whisperings are going on. Let me call them. Oh! They are my killers.

Where to find shelter now? Let me have my blood back.

I looked into the mirror perhaps, first time, It was full of flaws and cracks, that time, I put my heel when its veil was on And now, here come buried things, this time.

Dazzling light is completely devastated, And the rings of bells have sharpened, Perhaps, red roses have been blackened While its strong chains have fastened.

It is yawping me for its repair, By castigating me every time, leering, I am prevented from collecting roses As the gleaming from pieces, sharpening.

I am feeling like a prisoner, Time to throw out this miller, Again, its time for a new layer on you, As you are again a broken mirror.