Zainul Abidin, where have you gone? Why have you gone?
How could you have gone? Death never pardons anyone, I have always known But you too could be devoured by her, i had never known Bud Shah, you ushered a new green But now, how would the valley be ever green The valley of Jhelum, My Kashmira, your Kashmira Will ever she be the same? Wular looks so insolent, indolent though she is but what indolency in insolency. Mist envelops Wular, she refusing to surface For she knows, you too refusing to surface. Oh! my mighty Shah, don’t reprimand this ever unfortunate widow My eternal husband thou are but let not life be a series of misfortunes For i am your married widow. No smoke has climbed the horizon today For i have become the Sun indelibly off the horizon The greatest of the sovereigns No king will ever be as sovereign as you, now The valley too nods and Jhelum a virgin bride Too dumb to be indignant. Sikandar, the Butshikan, ever tormenting the hindus A redundant idol breaker Kashmira ever shaken by his torments Exploits provoking everyone but reacting a none The cruel Sikandar, may hell be his eternal abode And you my Bud Shah, the angel of Kashmiriyat May you always be the wind that blows through Chinars And the mist that envelops Wular May you always reside in the valley thus. Why is everything so quiet, not a human cry nor a beast pry Food looks absurd as how life ever absurd I will cry and cry, the unfortunate Zooni But what more misfortune now that you gone. You built our broken temples, broken were they though You just didn’t mend them but mended our tortured souls Sikandar the ever perpetrator and you the ever interpreter You played Diwali, never were you expected to though Come and comfort me, though you are not expected to But look you are; windy Chinars peeving me gently But will they always My heart says they will always. Zainul Abidin and his Zooni but never Zooni and her Zainul Abidin! Even the air knows, so sullen and morose she is Children distressingly well behaved , only my heart ever exploding Even the Apples will worsen, they too can smell it The fate of Saffrons so unsaid, only yesterday they inspired Pampore will never be the same without you My Bud Shah, my eternal Shah, where have you gone? Why have you gone? |
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