I walk the blood-reeking streets
Stumbling through the rubble and dust,
With fear and bleakness crawled up in my skin
I ,a mediocre man, has been forsaken.
The winds howl the song of lament
Plants beg to be spared from the stench,
Animals cower in their dwellings
Yet guns and their bullets are cunning.
I am seeing a utopian world crumbling
Wrath is upon my fellow plebeians,
The elite leaders quarrel and screech
The worldly scholars debate and preach
While a mediocre man like me bleeds.
Last of my kin who is listless and weak
His hearing numbed from the bombs and shrieks,
The child deaf to peace looks upon me
His hollow eyes yearn to be free.
In death, he sees a glimpse of serenity
Maybe being lifeless the aggressors would pity,
In death, he believes the worst would be over
He ends his life and becomes a spectator.
We the mediocre men stood back and watched
How wretched this damned world was,
The entire Kashmir flooded with blood
Yet the havoc has just begun.
About the author:
Albeena Alvi- Gargi College, DU