Tally Ho…! (Senseless War..Pakistan Specific) Poem by saadat tahir

The holy ones, their scepters and orbs
The unholy ones plush in their jobs
Insanely oblivious of what they gob
Where they tread and whom they rob
Scraggly beards and impeccable crease
But two sides of a well knit sleaze
A jacket is spirited a grenade is thrown
For good measures sake a shop is blown
Who gets blown is a matter o chance
Unwittingly caught in a deathly romance
A buck is passed a palm is greased
In a back of beyond a grave is leased
The brimming jehadi has lost his fuse
Crossing his mind is a handy ruse
He thinks of the father who’d cut him loose
Praying five times amid gander an goose
The gnats and drones silently cruised
In the big mens capital an ego is bruised
On a far far hill, amid pomp and glow
Wisdom an wine too amply flow
John is destined for a better slot
Salman and seema are left to rot
Serene Swat was a stones throw
a million miles now fly’s the crow
Teenage widow with daughter in tow
Has nil but venom an hatred to sow
Imploring the clutches to let her go
Vainly searching for friend or foe
Every few miles its another post
Fatigued jawan or turbaned ghost
Shes all alone in a zero sum game
Their searching eyes, know no name
Her eyes the envy of a yearling doe
fixed on the spikes of a broken hoe
Milkman’s toddler hobbles to school
Precariously perches on a broken stool
Blearily surveys the dangling board
Through jagged hole, sees the hoard
Bomb it out the burly one says
Raising his hand the leader stays
Too late for her, a packet is thrown
She an the stool, to bits are blown
Chuck chuck chuck the chopper whirs
Violating the stoeic and age old firs
Not far from the rag doll another boom
Shrieks of an old one from the room
Outside in the dust is a writhing goat
Bleating an wrenching in blood afloat
A rocket has landed near the hoard
Unleashing the anger of its deadly load
The rags below and the flattened huts
fluttering greens amid smoldering butts
Fleetingly remembers his father’s lawn
Where maulvi sahib taught him Quran
His heart swells with “God is great”
Amid crackle an static barks his mate
The wingman grimaces, bites his lip
Shakes his head an remembers the whip
Whooa! got em, the leadman shouts
Extremos are a bunch of filthy louts
Bingo! Concurs his mate on the line
To base then? ...sir, you did just fine
Damn! Look to your rt, burnt out pine
Something their continues to shine
Huh! The leadman mumbles an jowls
Looks askance, shudders an howls
Lock on…lock on…, hell I’m done
In a devlish dance no medals are won
Oh lord my tail it’s the mullahs SAM
Not a devils chance, its thud and wham
He fell to the ground in a zillion bits
Wing mate stunned and out’a his wits
God! what shall I tell his mourning wife
How he was killed? in who’s strife?
He trudges to the door to ring the bell
Gathers up courage to sound the Knell
Deafening Silence, searching gaze
The cables gyrations lost in a haze
She dropped her apple, drained of life
Last she saw was the glint of her knife

(Islamabad)
(April 08,2009)