Vitasta* ! Be Witness...... Poem by Nida Nawaz

Vitasta! Be my witness,
Look! The dark Kohl of my eyes,
The red colour of my lips,
Has washed itself with your water.


The tall shady chinars of my bosom,
That gave shelter to the weary Travellers,
That enthused them again for future journeys,
Have now been uprooted.

The heads of my children,
Have been cut like a plentiful crop,
Be witness to it Vitasta!
The blushing faces of my daughters
That bore apple like colours,
Look simply black
In this gun powder smoke all over.


The boats that glide on your surface now
Are eagerly looking forward to listen
To the love filled conversation of newly wed couples.
Be witness to it Vitasta!
Every drop of Your clear water,
That would sometimes reflect Hari Parbat
along with Shankracharya temple,
Is just red blood now.

Vitasta be witness to this fact as well
That this mother of yours,
This wounded valley,
Has now lost its identity,
After being walked over
By some unfamiliar and Marauding people …..
with heavy boots.

(Translated From Hindi By Autar Mota)