A tribute/lament for Kashmiri youth

Riksha

This is a tribute/lament by Kashmiri poet Ather Zia for those young men (in Kashmir, young men are especially targeted) executed or disappeared in the struggle for self-determination. It is also a tribute to their mothers who continue to protest against the occupation & demand justice for their children.

SONG OF A KASHMIRI AUTO (RIKSHA)

i can snake into tight alleyways
where mothers
ever careful not to splatter hot oil,
fry onions to mix with haakh[1],
that delectable old recipe
and wait and wait
and wait
for the boys to come home for dinner

and when they don’t,
i take mothers to all the morgues
in the city, and beyond
wherever they can sift for bones
if any remain
there are no maps

i am noisy, rickety,
heavy with old
plastic hearts,
film posters,
prayer-knots
my radio shut,
no doors
in this city where
time stands still and
runs – all at once
doors can be dangerous

I am open
curfews,
crackdowns,
cross-firings
and rain
I am open but not free
I am open but not free
—————————

Notes

[1] Greens

April 10th 2016