On Eighth Of October Poem by Sadiqullah Khan
On Eighth Of October
On the eighth of October and in the year 2005
And in the wee hours of the early morning
This is not the story of a dictatorship
A revolution that took over a civilian government
This is also not the independence day of people
Nor is it a day of victory over an enemy like us
Nothing is divine and nothing goes in explanation
The children died in nightmare thanks their eyes
Did not open to see when the earth turned upside
Concrete and heavy stones were driven into the valley
Mothers had their breakfast in hands so sudden
Lest a tear may roll down from eyes to the tongue
Who lost whom when the count was placed
Earth had shown the carnage it was explained
Two tectonics in Himalaya did not brace
Who will dig the mountain to see the face
Friends and relations some died in one place
Hundred thousand deaths for the angel of death
Who could be busier on such a long day
Healing hands were in the rush when it was known
Vultures flying over the demise much before
Some carried young girls as the booty of disaster
To their mothers they said when in the high seas
Smuggling in human what else the human nature
Could one day justice befall with heavy hand
What was the loot for those who were the custodians
When stolen were utensils from the home itself
The beautiful arm of the girl in her teens
For the gold and silver she wore up the wrist
Lacerated with impunity the butcher’s knife now
From nature was befallen though the calamity
Integrity of those who commanded in the chain
Put to shame when forgotten were own death
No tears nor sorrows nor condolences
Is it possible when no life breathes in the self
Up to the sky and down looked to the earth
Shall the heaven strike again and shall we know not
Worse shall happen as the game ends in itself
What follows is the cry of humanity in unison
Places of worship not schools or hospitals
Houses and blankets and warm palms to wipe
Tears are the prayers that after the shocks shall
Are we not humans and seek solace in mass rituals
When no one shall hold our hands we raise for a help
9/10/2009
Dedicated to the victims of earthquake in Hazara and Kashmir on 8th oct 2005
The fear anxiety contempt and the concern in these lines speak volumes of themselves...a good poem on the terrifying rememberance of a bad day in human life...thanks...10
this is the time for the sad silence................... No tears nor sorrows nor condolences Is it possible when no life breathes in the self Up to the sky and down looked to the earth Shall the heaven strike again and shall we know not Worse shall happen as the game ends in itself What follows is the cry of humanity in unison Places of worship not schools or hospitals Houses and blankets and warm palms to wipe Tears are the prayers that after the shocks shall Are we not humans and seek solace in mass rituals When no one shall hold our hands we raise for a help 9/10/2009
Who lost whom when the count was placed Earth had shown the carnage it was explained Two tectonic in Himalaya did not brace Who will dig the mountain to see the face Friends and relations some died in one place Hundred thousand deaths for the angel of death Who could be busier on such a long day Healing hands were in the rush when it was known Vultures flying over the demise much before Some carried young girls as the booty of disaster To their mothers they said when in the high seas Smuggling in human what else the human nature Could one day justice befall with heavy hand What was the loot for those who were the custodians When stolen were utensils from the home itself The beautiful arm of the girl in her teens For the gold and silver she wore up the wrist Lacerated with impunity the butcher’s knife now From nature was befallen though the calamity Integrity of those who commanded in the chain Put to shame when forgotten were own death
a verypowerful, heartfelt and touching poem with so sad images, tonight i dreamed about tsunami...it was just horrible.i was weeping and weeping as i saw that i lost the most dearest ones to me..hoping that the meaning of my dream was this poem..you painted a very touching scenes about the mothers, the girls...ets
It's always nice to remember the victims of disasters, both natural and man made, it's harder for the survivors, who have to live with terrible memories. Unfortunately many of these survivors still are deprived of the comfortable lives, a very nice dedication, very well penned!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 8:02:49 AM # 1.0.0.1119
so well said and a very nice poem indeed the depction of facts are excellent.....