During these long besieged nights
When each of us seems to imagine
the consequences of a war overshadowing
A mysterious blackout deepens the blur
An impasse blackens every colour.
Your remembrance I hold very close to my heart
so near that I feel it breathe
like the aroma of fallen flowers in the courtyard
It seems a perfect antidote
to these long useless autumn nights
It appears as a beautiful winter night
with snow accumulating outside,
flake over flake, as though to reside forever.
Meanwhile, on the frontiers,
I am afraid all the birds have been killed
like the messengers of peace
lest they carry any news.
All these days
I envision a war breaking out
I ask myself;
“Will I survive?
Can you outlive me?
Who will enshroud us and take us to our graves if we were killed?”
May be the approaching winter’s snow will shroud the obscure dead,
And the whole of this place will become a graveyard with a common epitaph reading;
“Killed as accomplices of each other”
If we survive and the war doesn’t break out,
We won’t be the same
We would keep asking each other;
“Why didn’t the war take place?”
Wasif Bhat is a student of literature. He writes equally well in English and Urdu.