A daughter writhes in pain
And a son recoils in horror;
Memories of flames
Embrace the numb mother.
No white kafan.
Robbed! Of janaza prayer,
A grave to visit
And find solace,
In the quiet memory
Of someone dear.
Fire! Beyond the red
In the immolator,
Is red hot in the hearts-
Of loved ones burnt
And some taken far.
Far in the East
Where the red sun rises.
From North, West, South,
One must trudge so long
To sit quietly by their grave
And offer a prayer.
Who shares your pain?
Not us, brother.
Your pain can never be shared.
Borne in your hearts for a lifetime,
Can never be compared.
Yet let us embrace you
And tell you we will never know.
And yet, in remembering,
We will let go.
Let go, yet remembered,
So it never happens again.
F.S.M. Ahamed
