Who tore down these walls,
Ramzan Wasta built,
Over gulps of nun-chai,
Boaba brewed for him,
With her rough hands,
Trembling from excessive toil?
Why is this smoke,
Hung in my study?
Littered with half-burnt poems,
Of Nizar Qabbani,
And short stories by Saki.
This night is frighteningly silent.
Have stray dogs died tonight?
They barked so furiously last night,
When they swooped on the village,
And shone searchlights,
That shamed the moon into silence.
Who has forgotten Saqib’s burnt broken body in my bedroom?
Someone sell it to the gravedigger,
Of martyrs, and dreams.
The juvenile leftover of Jawans’ dinner!
Ramzan wasta has arrived,
Asking for Saqib.
Will Boaba insist for a cup of nun-chai?
She hands over the bagful of bones,
As coldly, and quietly, as Ramzan Wasta
Lugs his son, Saqib, away.
Bilal Yousuf studies medicine at Govt Medical College Srinagar.
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