Zoon by Salik Basharat

I sprint down the stairwell and rush
through the backdoor
to hear the laments of a hundred faithful;
while of a hundred thousand more
I do not hear, but feel –
like an ache in my bones.

this veiled support and this willed
support has opposed –
And so have all the huts and the houses
and the bakers
And the pharmacists and the general
stores –
for generations, with thoughts and
actions, the opposed.

And, yet,

I stand with emotions stirred wild and
gaze longingly at the moon; zoon;
unable to translate the far-away tune of
that rusted trumpet of freedom.

Salik Basharat is an independent researcher working on Kashmiri Literature and Politics at Ashoka University. He is also interested in English Literature, Folk Music, and Western Philosophy.

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