Prisoner Of War Poem by Meena Mustafa
Prisoner Of War
The pen is mightier than the sword
I was once held a prisoner of war
The East and West were torn apart
I write this with a bleeding heart...
To my wife and children I said goodbye
You must now leave and saw them cry...
Sirens were heard and missiles were launched
After all these years it still now haunts...
Massacre was the price that was paid
It was such a bloody crusade.
Splitting East from West thousands were slain
Leaving many as hostages who endured the pain
The green land of East Pakistan was painted red
In the hands of the tyrants this war was led
The sea hawk fighter bombers were seen in the sky
A rampage it was and thousands were left to die
No house was left with a family to grow
In the hands of the tyrants some long ago...
Women were raped and men were slain
Oh God! why did you bestow this pain
No cries were heard, no grain of food
Children were left to die in this feud
Their homes were burnt, no place to hide
They were dragged and killed in the open daylight
I survived the war, and took a flight
To reunite with my family that midnight
My wife had no clue I was still alive
She stood in shock that I survived
I could see the tears rolling down her cheeks
And she was barely able to speak...
My kids came running and hugged me so tight
Daddy don't leave us and be out of sight
It was a shock and a sigh of relief
The war was over and I was pleased.
A very poignant and powerful write describing some of the ravages and destruction of war. In the end nobody wins and both sides suffer loss. Pray for peace to emerge from the ruins. Great poem.
thats terrible........................great poem.. war is something which don't give nything other than pain............ its such a horrable description.................
Liberation war 1971 is still fresh in the hearts of people of Bangladesh..but the war against inequality still goes on there...Thank you for sharing your experience, Meena..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 7:14:38 PM # 1.0.0.1119
I was in East Pakistan from 1965 to 1969, . In 1968 when a movement was launched against Ayub Khan it became an ethnic riot. I was surprised how it became an ethnic riot. We remained sleepless during the nights guarding our colony and during the day attended our offices. On the same day I realized East Pakistan is going to be separated. I was an employee in Eastern Banking Corp. I applied for my transfer to and posting at Karachi. In July 1969 I migrated to Karachi. I fully understand your poem and understand your pain. It is a very impressive write. But one thing I want to write Pakistan was imposed upon Muslims and Bangla Desh was imposed upon Bengalis. Both wanted only their rights. The rights were denied and separation was imposed.