My consciousness is bleak about you;
The design anyways is to wipe you from your existence.
Do you see who mastered the plot against you?
Blinded, forgotten and extorted from existence is not me,
It is you Bata?
How then do you not see?
The conspirators giggled, three more generations and over?
Did I ask you to leave?
I wasn’t even born.
I grew up knowing you before I could see you.
You were discussed every hour in my household like a decree.
My father said those were the good times.
I grew up traversing the roads that your parents walked,
Ruins and gutted houses I see, of both, you and me.
We are both victims of a bigger game.
It makes me angry, you grew up hating me
I grew up with fond memories of you.
Can you still not tell what waited in the ambush of that winter?
Who then ripped us apart?
My childhood, I wondered how you must look?
When I saw you, it was me.
I was thrilled to ask others, they said they can’t tell you from me.
You say Panun Kashmir and you look like me.
Overwhelming is the knowledge of your first love elsewhere
You support those who kill me.
You are blinded to see who is your own.
That’s where I raise my voice.
I hurl a stone against everything Indian, who snatched you from me. They pierced this land, each dog holds on to a share.
Go you if you want,
I reject to live for a sin I didn’t commit.
You chose an oppressor? Be it, I accept.
But my stand is not Pakistan.
Pakistan, a sinner, you are burning with anger.
Then I ask why they are scot-free, perpetrators of a dreadful genocide
India is a killer, they didn’t even spare Maqbool or beloved Ashfaq
Why then would they be let free, without any judgment or trial?
They move about enjoying a status-quo,
Can you still not tell what waited in the ambush of that winter?
Who then ripped us apart?
We are struggling and fighting for ‘Kasheer’; yours and mine.
You can choose take my hand, hurl this stone or disappear in the oblivion.
Akh Kashur
June, 2010
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