By Santosh Bakaya
In this Paradise your sojourn was brief
You vanished plunging your family in grief.
From one paradise
You have travelled to another
Pack up your dreams, and your fantasies
Inhale that serene breeze.
Rest in peace, Gowhar!
Up there, you will meet tiny Burhan too
Give him a warm hug
One huge one to Aylan too
And many more tiny tots
Who were caught in vicious eddies
And left behind their satchels and teddies.
Goodbye, Gowhar!
You will be better off in that paradise
Is our surmise.
Not lashed by winds of hate,
Or gales of malevolence
But touched by a peaceful radiance of tolerance.
We know, the lakes, the rivers, the flowers
And gardens and bowers
Will miss you.
Your family will miss you too.
But, you will be better off in that paradise
Sleep well, Gowhar.
Come, Gowhar, forget and forgive.
Forget your dreams
Forget your mother’s screams
Forget that teargas shell
Which ruptured your dreams.
Forget this earth’s cacophony shrill
Of hate, rancour and ill-will.
Forgive us, Gowhar, we could not save you
But, let me tell you,
We have been unable to save ourselves too!
A novelist-poet, Dr Santosh Bakaya stays in Jaipur with her husband, Lalit Magazine and college going daughter. She is from Kashmir. She recently won the Reuel International award for her long poem “OH HARK!” which is now part of “THE SIGNIFICANT ANTHOLOGY”.
Her e-book: FLIGHTS FROM MY TERRACE in Smashwords has been criticallly acclaimed and recently Vitasta Publishers released her new ‘poetic biography’ of M K Ghandhi: “BALLAD OF BAPU”.
Beautiful lines mam …God bless u ..n have a bright future ahead
Heart touching lines mam…..stay blessed
Dear friends , my soul is bleeding…… I couldn’t stop myself from writing these words….
Oh My ‘sympathetic’ killer
I have been waiting for centuries
For that “healing touch”
For that glorious morning
When the sun of my dreams would rise
While I lay my life for my land.
I never, and will never hope for your
Generosity in words and deeds
For you have only the tool to give
‘Peeling touch’ to my sacrificial body
And want to peel off my identity
And bruise my conscience
And put on me a million dollar make-up.
That won’t stop my organic growth
I will grow again and again
Till I am destroyed to nought
I cannot be defeated by fraud and guile.
I will rise again and again
Till my last drop of blood
Stains your peaceful dagger.
I am consoled now by my groans and cries
They pat me,they gather me together
They beckon me to my path of freedom.
I pity you O brute oppressor
I have already attained my goal
I could see your defeat in your fiery eyes
I could feel that in your enraged self
You are now afraid of just our voice
Choke it but you can’t stop it.
The voice has spread and now,
Its echo has made you tremble
And your rank can’t shield you from it
My dream will haunt you wherever you go
Awake or asleep.
My conscience glues my straps of my lynched body.
The body is mine, the blood is mine.
Your every endeavour to wither me will be defeated
By me and my every other self
Today,tomorrow or till your time…