Guest post by UZMA FALAK
Winter of my eyes
took flight
Did you see?
These are not the same eyes
colors of which you would patiently decipher
sitting under the sun
for hours
gray dreams refusing to dissolve
in waters of Lethe.
My hands clutch autumn now
My feet feel nostalgic
Spring in my veins crawls back
My eyes hid that one dream
in the rubble of countless others.
I had to.
Didn’t you see how they gazed?
They, who trampled our fields of saffron?
They who murdered the color
and smeared it on their foreheads.
We carry gallows around our necks
Do you hear the sound of fetters?
I may not write to you again
I need to find the key
I know you saw me
Carrying my heart in my eyes
I heard the rain rattling against my window
all night
You thought I wouldn’t know
What can I say?
I still carry you in my each sigh
But for now my love
I need to go
to carve epitaphs
With delicacy and precision
One dies
The other is born
They only give us numbers
But poets hate numbers
And in our country we are all poets
of loss
of memory
of madness
History has no time to repeat
It is unfinished where we live
Lingering
Like you and me in that moment
When near the creaking door
that lead to orchards,
My hem torn
and those apples we gathered
in my halam
Your feet covered with leaves and ash
I asked you, What will become of us?
You said, I love the winter in your eyes.
KAFILA - COLLECTIVE EXPLORATIONS SINCE 2006 
“History has no time to repeat
It is unfinished where we live
Lingering”:
Good work Uzma
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Truth in a very heart touching manner .
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Its very touching. I wish the day will come and people will enjoy their freedom. Insha allah it will happen one day…..
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I must say…”good job”
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heart wrenching!
but can someone tell me what is a halam?
sorry for the ignorance.
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Halam is a Kashmiri word for the lower portion of a garment.
(Daaman)
If we lift the the corners of the daaman, it gives way to a space where one can hold/gather or collect something (in this case apples).
This gesture (lifting the daaman) , traditionally also suggests a way of receiving divine blessings.
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That looks like the proverbal spark from the fire of Chinaar….
Keep pouring your heart out to us
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beautiful & soul touching poetry
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beautiful & soul touching….Would like to read more from you
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