Mother’s Tale

An inconsolable Kashmiri mother.

Hashim Bashir

In the land of struggle,

I will wait you like a Sufi

 

Fallen tears from my eyes,

A voiceless screams,

Lost in the world of day dreams.

 

I am the mother

Who lost the son

In the mare of dreams.

 

Nights falls,

With the roar sound of bullets and pellets (thal thal)

I fight with them

As being insomnia.

 

Every knock at the door,

Fill my heart with a wish

Let it be you?

In the roads of curfew.

 

Every day,

Every mother prays,

5 times a day,

Let her children’s be safe!

 

Break free all the chains

Towards the freedom,

To reside in peace

In the occupied land of saints.

 

In the graves of nothingness,

Memories are buried,

Having different stories and myths,

Being un-told and un-written.

See the light of the day,

In the empthyness and darkness

My son?

To bring back light of freedom

To my eyes

 

In the light day,

Where do you fade away (my son)

Whom do I say?

Whom do I pray?

 

Hashim Bashir is a student.

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