I Am That Stone

Hurled by a slinging arm
i bring the storm through the air
carrying within me
the memories and the history
hitting the armour of oppression
i fall with the flight of an autumn leaf,
unmoved like the smile of a martyr

i am that stone
carried by the ababeel
in their beaks
defeating a tyrant marching
on elephants feet

i am that stone
carried by the Hear
to kill Jalodbhava
a monster of oppression
with a mountain
in her mouth

i am the throne of Sulayman
where he commanded his jinns
to make a valley
out of the endless roaring waters

i am the stone
in the hand of the pilgrim
who throws it
as a pillar of his faith
fighting the devil
that Abraham defeated,
and the devil he needs to defeat
inside him

I am that stone,
causing terror
in the hearts of the Mughals
with the fearlessness of the Dilawar
for whom the descendants of Chengez
built the wall to keep him off
and created dungeons by the lake
while they romanced in their 700 gardens

i am that game of stones,
that one-eyed
Ranjit
was afraid of,
played by the children of Dilawar
in the streets of a defeated vale

i am that stone
carried by the Napolean’s gift-maker
in Zaldagar,
who was shot down,
the blood making the paisleys
on his body, a design of his audacity

i am that stone, that Qadeer
raised in his hands,
to demolish the edifice of oppression
so that my grandfather’s generation
become free men, ninety nine years a slave

i am that stone,
that has letters wrapped around it
to the lover across the vitasta
beyond the line that divides
their love story,

i am that stone,
that broke the apples
held to the branches
of the trees in the orchards
of Shopian

i am that stone that roared
in the skies,
while bullets pierced his bodies
at gaw kadal,

i am that stone,
part of a history
on the epitaphs of a hundred thousand
men, women and children,
fathers, mothers and kids,
carved on me is a history,
i am a national monument

i am that stone,
that found its way
back into the hands
five hundred years later,
thrown with the dna
of an endless resistance
to fight the oppression,
i bring fear into the hearts
of the tyranny,
for i know nothing
but to strike
at the fear and terror

i am a stone
with a history of my own

Comments

comments