You left temples godless behind
on their own, concerned.
You took away deities asleep,
draped in silk soaked with tears
and left behind angels weep.
Hushed I kept listening you leave
in nights cursed, drop after drop,
untold; through the frozen mountains
unable to speak.
You left uttering wail and a spell behind.
Distances prohibit me,
I seek forgiveness;
Unable to reach you,
I know not will you forgive me.
Shackled I couldn’t guard what was left behind.
Peregrinations washed your existence
in a night you turn me foe,
tied in a Gordian knot.
Then never my garden saw any spring
I went digging graves day and night.
Who shall stand in front of my pain
I’m hiding this pain even from myself.
My bleeding spirit will reach you soon
only to tell you of us
-held in a curfew.
Time has travelled so long, you
won’t be able to recognize me, I have
turned old; Exhausted, my hair snow
and I keep giving you voice in my faint
memories where fog has let its curtains down.
I won’t tell my misery, melting
every night. Burning rue seeds I call luck.
Dressed in flames I journey dark nights
to reach up to you only to remind
of those knots eager to get untied.
About the author
Mohammad Tabish tumbled down into this world about twenty-three ago in the apple town Sopore in the Northern part of the Valley of Kashmir. After completing his schooling from Tyndale Biscoe School in Srinagar, Tabish did his Honors in English Literature from Amity University, Nodia in Utttar Predesh before heading back home. What trigged the poet in him were the leafs of “Shalimar The Clown’ by Agha Shahid. In his poems Tabish tries to capture the changing hues of Kashmir – the joys and wails. These days sitting in the Valley, Tabish is attempting to translate Kashmiri poetry into English.