[Reader-list] A pregnant “Kashmiri Pandit” woman in exile

[Pawan Durani]

poem by Maharaj Krishen Santoshi…Translated by Arvind Giggoo

You grew
in me
like the moon
in the snowy winter nights.
In my moistened self
this was the first knock
of the blooming flower.
My child
I pleaded
to the snow for your beauty
to the Chinar for your height
to the lake for your depth
to the apples for your juicy sweet sweetness.
Ignorance was mine
when
the place where I beautified you
was
grabbed from me.
But
you are
inside me
throbbing
even in the loss of the land.
Praised be the Lord!
You will come
one day
my child,
smelling the fragrance
of the lost land in me.
I will not
rest you in the cradle
I will
keep you
on the hard rock of history
I won’t sing
lullabies to you.
I will cut the wings of
your sleep
and
keep you awake.
I want you to walk fearlessly on this earth.
My child,
I will pour
the droplets of the lake Satisar
into your innocent eyes
so that,
you don’t forget your climate.

Source : http://thekashmir.wordpress.com/2010/05/30/a-pregnant-kashmiri-pandit-woman-in-exile/