The stage of sacrifice
After you migrated, he crawled shimmering to see
The ruins of your abode, tunneling the two mothers
Who were still there, wretched, with their eyes bloodshot?
Fixed at the two ends, he said, across the tunnel, one-
Whom you owed your birth- was bravely consoling the other,
“Had I a hundred like him, to you I would have sacrificed all.”
I also saw the dark abode, several meters long, dilapidated,
Echoing still breaths of all sacrificed like you to the other,
With your face etched at the middle, assigned to that helplessness-
No, don’t ask how I know, for you, my dear, live within us all.
To their calling now, you were not there but a new figure
Sobbing like a child stood, unable to decide whom to respond first.
The other, he said, a pious unmarried widow, a scarred land,
After her bridal preparations fuelled the fire set to the family,
Gathered herself to console the first in a partly cracking voice,
“Look. He says it is not an end but a mere reincarnation to animate
The eternal cycle of struggle, of sacrifice and of a stage to freedom.”
I also heard some mysterious voice of the first being not a childless
But a common mother to all, who migrated for the common cause
(The author is pursuing BA (Hons)English from IUST, Awantipora)