Author: Saadut
•10:23 PM

I cannot see the moon from my window tonight. 

I can only see autumn trees wail in distances, mourning the sleeping kids massacred by the king.
I can hear the song of the rustling autumn leaves, who are trying to sing a lullaby, trying to cradle the earth of these sleeping kids.
I can make out the silent sobs of the mother who keeps playing with the toys her child left behind; I can feel the coarse hair of a battered father.
I can feel the darkness in my habitation; I see the feeble light shining in bleeding hearts, the faded fire of these hearths.

I cannot see the moon from my window tonight.

I hear the fruit seller still comes searching for Sameer with the new harvest of pears,
In the narrow interwoven lanes the jackboots that trampled Sameer have not erased,
I hear the friends of Tufail still call out his name, the children in us do hope for miracles like the return of loved ones from no return lands,
I see the picture of a smiling Fida hanging by his home has not learnt the wrinkled expressions he left his parents with
The bloom of the hundred gardens that were stomped has not been replaced; their winters never gave way to spring.

I cannot see the moon from my window tonight.

The narration of children stories still continues in their homes, now their mothers sit alone by the window to weave these characters
The cradles that these children played in lay motionless and blank, creaking sometimes in the still of the night to announce their grief
I see the vortex that has evolved in these eyes, the void of these faces, the questions with no answers.
The silence here creates its own deafening noises, the blankness shrieks almost from nowhere, pierces right through my heart

I cannot see the moon from my window tonight.
My eyes have tired searching for that moonlight, having got drowned in my own torrent; I can only pray for my Kashmir :(

14th October 2011
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On November 4, 2011 at 3:30 PM , farhana said...

beautifully written, with emotions woven in each word.. allah bless..