Friday, June 13, 2008

Wandhama is born-Brijnath Betab

We are thankful to Sh.Brijanath Betab,the renowned Kashmiri poet and broadcaster for his poems.

The Nocturnes of Vandhama
The mortified skies
Enclosed with dark clouds
Unable to snoop into the cries,
The willow trees
Dried,
The paddy fields
Scorched,
When the dead night
Cried,
The earth
With every shudder
Kept counting
The dead
number,
Twenty three
And lost the count of deaths,
The last bullet
Pierced through the smiling silence
Of some suckles
Few Breaths
And a horror,
Milk dropped out of the veins
And the tiny drops
Wrote the history of terror.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Wandhama is born
Milk
Mixed with
Blood,
In the lap of
Twenty three ,
A toddler
Listening to
The lullaby of bullets
Slept
For ever
And
Wandhama was born.

1 comment:

Pooja Shali said...

"A toddler
Listening to
The lullaby of bullets
Slept
For ever
And
Wandhama was born."

For me, the most significant lines.. how can you not be moved when you read this..

Pooja Shali