Seven Sorrows Poem by Mushtaque B Barq

The Seven Sorrows
(Inspired from Seven Sorrow by Ted Hughes)
The first sorrow, being born in Kashmir
In narrow blood stained streets of bruised downtown
Where tulips hardly need season to bloom,
Beneath our pharans what a deprived cut!
Wrap our Lilies and Sunflowers with hate
And visitors of new digital world
‘Terrorise' common narrative.

The second sorrow, slavery of capitalists
Our voluminous degrees old and the ‘papers' new
Fall on the tables of uneducated bosses
For we sell to the lowest bidder our brain Alas!
Our life serum for peanuts, on mercy but we live
Continue to be a lonely cry under jack boot
‘Misfortune' justified although.

The third sorrow, historical inaccuracy
‘Instrument of Accession' and ‘Shimla Agreement'
What not for a common man Ah! Without his consent,
He has been sold boldly, coldly not once, twice or thrice
On every fifth year, as ‘election manifesto'
We are fixed in a maze, to graze and to gaze at:
‘The eclipsed' mutilated moon.

The fourth sorrow, obsolete systems
That held us, hang us and to dump us
In the soil occupied by the 'might'
Our books are no more the brooks to sing
A song that humanizes a singer
A rhyme of mariner, hymn of sage
‘Corrupt scripts' plagiarism approved.
.
The fifth sorrow, deep in our marrow
We only borrow what is hallow
From the West end and the Middle East
Put on auction in Sunday market'
And flock round the left outs, half broken
Art pieces, heart pieces of artists
‘Cultural onslaught' an ailment.

The sixth sorrow, the Indo- Pak kindness
We lose whenever that part, this part wins
Invite interlocutors for 'wazwan'
And on the micro screens we are rated,
We are treated, mistreated and dismissed
Being bone of contention between foes
‘Second grade' official white trash!

The seventh sorrow, we know not,
On a heap of lave we lay couch
And wait for ‘Godot' and ‘robot'
To mark graves hitherto unmarked
In tough times, we only relax,
For normalcy is a myth here
‘Ignorance' apoliticized.