On This Day Poem by Sadiqullah Khan

Who has on these passage ways, brought
Funerals. Who has on this day allowed
From the beehive of golden bees,
Mournful streams and from the sunny
Afternoon’s slumber, who has allowed
A long darkness on my path. For a while
Who is not celebrating; who is wearing
Masks of smiles. From the children’s
Happy faces, bright eyes and red cheeks
Why is it that let the looming sorrow to come
To them not later than a few years?
Of a severe handicap of my understanding
A bequeathed generation of hapless souls
I know I have inherited a drought of intellect
Of closed eyes akin to ostrich’s hide in sand
Or a dove on seeing a cat, a donkey seeing a wolf.
Who has painted the pale green fields purple
Is a human loss more, is slavery anything other.
On the mid-dividing road, why were the dreamers
Sleeping. I saw a hand hanging down the brick
For a final cut, a blow or the old man with aching -
Broken back bone. In deep thought. What story
Of grace he is going to tell to the loved ones.
What apology, excuse; what face to wear?
An eaten up spirit, a bowed head
To every passerby, a hand held
As if born with a deformity, for alms.

-On Eid Day

Sadiqullah Khan
Peshawar
August 9,2013.