Haiku XXIII
(Kashmir 2009)
The weeping willow
Touches the bank,
Red with blood
No one can see.
Haiku XXIV
The narcissi
In my hand
Droops fatigued
Plucked from a land
Distant and bleeding
Haiku XXV
What are those trees?
Their soft green leaves
Like new fingers
Curling in the air
Reaching out
To the dead.
Haiku XXXXII
(for R.)
Is it night already?
The waters of the Dal
Gleam dully
Under the neon light.
The night heron sits
Patiently waiting.
We are different
Though.
We sit
Far apart,
Not waiting at all.
For we have acquiesced
To the end of
Love.
Haiku 55
Septemper, 2010
(For the disappeared children)
I believe
You are lost
Somewhere
In the maze
That is Syria, Damascus, Srinagar.
The once lush city parks
Hide your thin body
Your flailing arms,
That clutch
Unseeing strangers,
Who may lead the blind way
Home, to us.
We, who wait,
Like the river,
Despondent,
For our turn,
To lose ourselves, too.
Unnumbered Haiku
(Kashmir 2019)
The mountains murmur
So do the chinar forests
Can you hearwhispers,
Of lovers, separated by barbed wires?
Ghosts wander the towns
Where life has been wiped clean
Where even babies despair
Oh Kashmir
Who has rubbed your eyes with soot?
Who has crushed your soul under his boot?
Our eyes are doom laden
And our hands un-clean
Oh Kashmir,
Await the footsteps of the living dead.
