MY POEM, '"THE NIGHT OF PARTING,1990"

                                     

(The Night of Parting ,1990 )

It is 4.30 am ,

pitch dark and freezing January month of  Kashmir ,

The taxi driver knocks  feebly at our door,

A signal to come out, 

We are already waiting for him since 3 am ,

It is  a night of parting,

A night when we left everything behind, 

Our name, our  fame , our address, our deities and  our belongings .

We were advised  to leave immediately to save our lives .

Our names figured in the hit list displayed  outside the Mohalla mosque.

My brother served in BSNL ,

They said we had a 'Wireless Set',

We were  Indian agents; 

Informants ,spies, non-believers and enemies .

We  had to leave or get killed.

As mother comes out  to  board the waiting taxi for a destination  unknown, 

Raja, our neighbour Mohammed  Sidiq's wife and  Sondhar Ded's daughter in law , 

along with her two  little daughters Afroza and  Sarah, comes to see my mother off.

Raja hugs my mother and sobs  , 

She was my mother's third daughter after Suneeta and Lalita , 

She kisses my mother's hand and says ,

"Bhabi , my parental home is dead now.

Hey you Afroza hug Bhabi,.

You Sarah come hug Bhabi ,

You people leave ,

 Leave immediately and save your lives.

Wherever you go , may Allah keep you  happy .

Bhabi , for me , you were  like the  cool shade  of a majestic Chinar tree.

I will miss  you.

Leave, leave otherwise  this rascal,

Mohammad Sidiq will get up from sleep

And pull us inside .

He says no connect with Pandits,

He says let Pandits go to hell, 

He follows the Mujahids.

Leave , leave 

Leave me to Allah's care, 

Allah  will  ruin their families , 

The families of those who made  you leave 

your home  .

I wish I could be born again to pay your debts . 

Leave , leave ,leave Bhabi ......"

The taxi driver takes our  two bags that we packed hurriedly at night . 

He says softly ,

"Come quickly  , don't talk to  me  outside 

till you board the taxi, 

hurry up ,

people are about to go to the mosque ,

I will get noticed,

hurry up ."

As we cross Pampore' s vast saffron fields ,

We see trucks , taxis  with Pandits

moving to Jammu,

Moving to uncertainty ,

Moving  to exile ,

Swarming travellers with sad faces 

Rushing on the highway 

Yet not knowing where to go ,

And  knocking at  the doors  of 

misery, suffering and pain to enter .

( Avtar Mota)

CHINAR SHADE by Autarmota is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.5 India License.
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