Uma Asopa M.D.Ahmedabad
Anger had no time
to reflect on words
while pain had constructed
a literature of grouse
then they fed on each other
for days
like a brother and sister
in unison
No one could remember
the bomber
and his claim
to the title of glory
but violence
had no regrets
to repeat again
the cycles of aggression
Dynasty of terror
had an inheritance
of malice
but pain developed amnesia
the moment
it blew away in explosion.
Uma Asopa
March 2002 ****************************************************
Wither Kashmiriat
A heaven on earth
sheds tears of blood
in ablution to Gods
that moved abode
to snow-capped mountain peaks
forever displeased.
He who once belonged
to this valley, the lakes
and flowery saffron fields
has fled in reverence
to those gun trotting boys
who lost years
and touch
with their music and art.
An old shikara floats on Dal lake
in quiet conversation
with waters -
burns lights of hospitality
for guests
that won't come this far.
The war for this land
favors indifference
to the tired old man
boastful of his shawls;
nor does it promise
homeless Pundits
a return of their dreams.
The time has gone still
in this land of angry hills
hiding fires and sparks
in treacherous mountain pass.
A line drawn on map
shears minds and hearts,
rebuffs embrace of Chinars,
afraid to invite
the wrath of simmering scars.
When sons of Kashmir
left home to return
soaked in spirit of azadi,
some Kashmiris killed
some other Kashmiris,
but didn't pause
to hear the valley reverberating
hollering wails of Kashmiriat.
Uma Asopa
may 2002