DEMARCATED EMOTIONS
written by: Kabir Deb
I lose my land
Leaving my child behind
As he has got his child
Studying in a developed school
My Lahore today has witnessed blood
Which she tasted often
Punjab today bears demarcated limbs
Trespassed by sharp edges
Zero result but everyone rejoicing
My son is also one of them
He has changed his religion
And so do I
But may be I shouldn’t name
Attachment is a habit of people
Specially who took birth in the cesarean era
I was travelling in a carriage full of odour
Not a nice & pleasant smell
But a smell of rotten wound & diarrhea
Cries of children creating ear – quakes
My wife crying for something
I don’t know where the tear is rolling into
Whether into the river of my boy
Or into the era where my mother demanded
To die in the land which gave her everything
I was more attached to her
But she being a mother
May be had a better touch for her son
How fate has cursed us
Even emotions are losing their territory
Angels faking their existence
Teas turning into poison
Suicides becoming abundant
One losing his motherland
While one losing her mother
I don’t know who the curator of this museum is
But today in this cesarean era
My son is living far away from me
While I wait on the lap of my motherland
As I see a smile on my mother
But I have killed one mother
Long time back, unknowingly or knowingly
As I brought her away from her son
My faults often get counted
Kicks often cause backache
The pen & the curator still live
His voice still plays like symphony
But nobody knows
That even Hitler had a music of his own
He also signed thousands of papers
Today I sigh here, cursing the curator
Will my curse touch him, I often doubt, my Master!
- SCHIZOPHRENIA - May 19, 2018
- FOUR WOMEN ON AN AMAVASYA NIGHT - January 30, 2018
- DEMARCATED EMOTIONS - November 25, 2017
