withers with weather-ed change.
Just as the radios distributed
have withered away in rust,
in want of signals-
that hang limply
in desperate search.
The tendons of snapped cables,
doctored channels,
filtered news.
doctored channels,
filtered news.
News freeze in memory
too curfewed to kiss
the caskets called
brain sockets-
just as
my neighbour's blood lies buried
under layers of this snowy 'paradise'
in an awaited wish to
unstiffen and thaw.
To release
bloody tears of 'special status' happiness.
Can you see the bunkers
behind the green paints?
Or do you think it's the lush
green valley
rosy with bloody apples?
But before he could see
he was shot..
"A terrorist killed in ambush"-
the news reports.
want to comment but then i remember reading somewhere "Critics are welcome to comment"(1st Blog i guess--though i have checked it twice, to be triply sure),,
ReplyDeletealthough was unable to comprehend most of it...but still beautifully written....
Romantic and much more in consonance with literary themes of rebellion and oppression may it seem, but the Battle of Kashmir is much more than the iron foot of the big state and the fireflies of freedom.
ReplyDelete@shailesh, all that i defend is my nation's claim of being a "democratic" state....let us respect that and allow a plebiscite...we should not be afraid right? for all we have done is economically pamper the Kashmiris and do other "good" stuff for them...
ReplyDelete
ReplyDeleteI have to thank you for the efforts you've put in writing this blog
http://www.prokr.net/2016/09/insulating-companies-3.html
http://www.prokr.net/2016/09/insulating-companies-2.html
http://www.prokr.net/2016/09/insulating-companies.html