Eid in the Paradise of Blood

Zee­ba T. Hash­mi

[On 27th Ramzan (7th August, 2013), one Colonel belong­ing from Peshawar, one from Lahore and anoth­er SSP from Swat, were killed in grue­some tar­get­ed fir­ing by a mil­i­tant upon their return from a secu­ri­ty meet­ing late at night. This poem is inspired by the wid­ow of the brave sol­dier who got mar­tyred in this fir­ing.  Her shrieks still can’t escape my ears.]

In the val­leys of green, ter­res­tri­al won­ders of this par­adise
where life was meant to be cher­ished,
filled with every pearl of joy
where sor­row was sup­posed to be untouched.

But a brute mor­tal­i­ty brought an end to it all.

By dan­ger­ous demons known to the world,
pro­tect­ed for the val­ue they bring
to their Guardian Mon­sters.

There in a house in this red par­adise,
haunt­ed by the shrieks of a  moth­er of three.

She said she had her man,
a hand­some man,
who built  heav­en for her.
She looked up to him, as he embraced her with guar­an­tee

–In his uni­form like a pho­to­graph dec­o­rat­ed on her man­tel­piece-

Said that he will return to her,
as he kissed his lit­tle ones good-bye
in their sleep, in the warmth of all his love.

Eid is com­ing, he thought, I will bring them gifts.

But know­ing not what future might hold,
in this shaky world he dreamed to turn into par­adise.

The glow in his brave spir­it, said the wail­ing moth­er of three
was left behind in per­ma­nence as he depart­ed.

A par­ti­cle of his soul as a build­ing block
of heav­en he want­ed for his moth­er­land.

He nev­er returned as his devo­tion called for
sac­ri­fice to bar­bar­i­ty of the demons she knew noth­ing about,
Except that they killed the man she loved
Who nev­er made it home to her chil­dren
this Eid with his promised gifts.