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Curfewed Friday

by Huzaifa Pandit

Things were different once
The cleft sky wouldn’t burden
my leaking skull.
During the famine of addresses
I inhabited some square feet.

In this city of lights
Who would’ve imagined
gassed darkness would reign?
This nightmare had never hit me
Had the suspicion ever struck you?

Many rains rain.
One even flooded TRPs
and an ungrateful people.
But the scarred blood stains
aren’t wiped from sutured Jhelum
Or bruised blue apple shells.

Now, your beloved is barricaded
In meshed screens of silence
It has been a century.
Once, when the city spoke a language
He was the muezzin.

me-photo-by-Akram-AhmedHuzaifa Pandit was born and raised in Kashmir. He is pursuing a PhD on “Faiz Ahmed Faiz, Agha Shahid Ali and Mahmoud Darwish – Poetics of Resistance” at University of Kashmir. His poems, translations, essays and papers have been published in various journals like Indian Literature, PaperCuts, Life and Legends, Punch and Noble/Gas qtrly. He is fond of Urdu poetry, Urdu and old Bollywood music, and hopes to publish a book of his translations soon.
[Photo credit: Akram Ahmed]