Sadiqullah Khan


Still Alive - Poem by Sadiqullah Khan

For my grieving heart, in awe struck,
The bit of sin, though uncommittal
To him my colors of grace, an ancient
Threaded coat in silk, a Wakhi ensemble –

And her feeling the inside, exhaling breathe,
A sigh would need smoke and vapor,
For the rain was insistent and night dark.

For her the trespass, but the aging soul,
Beholding a sight, -could ownership and concern,
From other end of the globe, and we live,
In a togetherness, and would my gratitude,
Ever wane, or I forget, a sharing more humane?

Or a dear friend, who says, ‘your heart still alive’,
But I ask forgiveness, for done cannot be undone,
And the moment’s aromous presence, alas!
For the senses to be in asana, how it could be?

-On my smoking a cigarette

Courtesy: My friends

Sadiqullah Khan
Gilgit
August 17,2015.

Topic(s) of this poem: love and art


Poet's Notes about The Poem

Opium Addiction in Badakshan- words of A.K.Kimoto
In the remote North-Eastern province of Badakhshan in Afghanistan, opium and heroin addiction are ravaging isolated mountain communities, and the staggering numbers are only getting worse. In some places, it is said that 70% of the population use drugs in some form, from hashish, to raw opium and refined heroin powder. It is not uncommon to find three generations of a family smoking together behind closed doors.
Traditionally, Opium was used as a cure-all, the magic medicine that could work wonders on anything from back pains to headaches to the nagging cough that every one has during the brutally cold winter months. The residents of Ishkashem, on the Tajikistan border say that it was never a problem before. Now, the situation is changing. In Ishkashem, it is said that at least 50% of the population has a serious drug addiction problem. Other remote villages further down the inaccessible Wakhan Valley are said to have an unbelievable 70-80% addiction rate. Children are born into addiction every day, and thus, the cycle is perpetuated.

“I don’t care about being recognized, and I don’t care if I go through life with no fame to show for my efforts. What bothers me is if people don’t take my latest work seriously. Not for my sake, but for the sake of the people who allowed me to photograph their lives. When was the last time you saw a 4 year old sucking down heroin? Is it not a tragedy? If I can’t do anything to bring attention to their plight, and if nobody cares, then what am I doing with my time and in fact, my life? It was never about awards or anything like that. I thought it was about being out in the world, witnessing things that others don’t see, and sharing these stories with a larger audience. I always said that I do what I do because I only have 2 hands.” Journal entry 6.6.2009.
@ Trevor’s Travels
Photo by A. K. Kimoto

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, September 5, 2015



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