The Angel of Kashmiriyat
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
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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