By Shah Bisma Manzoor
That terrible night when the rain drops
struck against the silence inside my nest.
The ivy that stood up against my window,
running in race of reaching to the terrace,
too witnessed the flames on that night,
too strong they were to be put off by the gushing rain.
My heart, the size of my fist
carries tons of pains and wails
tied strongly to the chambers within.
Tears streaming from my eyes like
springs erupting from the earth’s bosom.
The crimsoned paths to my past
twist my mind and traumatise my thoughts.
That night — the horrible moment — still haunts
the dismal rooms of my emotions.
I sense the grip of that beastly figure
around her neck to kill her for his good.
Wonderingly, my nerves gain strength
I no longer scream or cry when I visualise
the terrible clutches of the oppression.
I speak up with all my might
For I am done being timid and coward.
The smiles, the laughter, the joys and merriment
All went up in flames with the first stroke of sun.
That blossomed ivy,the fruit laden vine
the morning glory once in full bloom and smile
too got buried down deep inside the earth.
I could see the vipers in claok of beasts
searching for that innocent in every nook and corner.
He was there — a slave of lust, a captive of satan
Alas! to quench his thirst,he ripped off the innocence.
That rainy night, everything was ablaze.
The sleeping birds cried laments rather than melodies.
The shining stars too were in mourning.
Sun too didnt shine to greet the day.
That terrible night plundered the wealth of an innocent.
That terrible night…
Shah Bisma Manzoor, from Jammu and Kashmir, India, a master in English Literature, works as a Vice Principal of a higher secondary.