Waziristan - a poem
April 19, 2008
Waziristan by Kashkin
As Waziris roam in mountains and its steppes,
With companions, the rivers gomal and tolchi
Hear them those blushing meadows in trance
As history whispers its lessons in Wazirwola
As the women recite to their children in music
The old tales of freedom and their valor
On their door steps again, the new threat
Created and fabricated, thousands miles away
Woven in fear and conspiracy, snakes and its poison
As moments brings them closer to injustice
Witness these mountains, whispers these rivers
Those painful moments of separation from its past
Hear these mountains and rivers, echoes of suffering
Death alone not enough, like those mists we rise!
As the story begins of this place and its people
With thunders and applause, we resume
As we play our cards in devil’s hand,
As we throw these women and children in fire
For not of their own creation, displaced tribes
From one corner to another, from south to north
As we pay the price, with missing hands and faces
Committed we have ourselves to this disdain
Witness these mountains, whispers these rivers
Those painful moments of separation from its past
Hear these mountains and rivers, echoes of suffering
Death alone not enough, like those mists we rise!
Discover they all to their surprise
The old pact to protect, as they vowed
The warriors of this land, men and women
With their blood and lives, with gomal and tolchi
The old folklores, all what possession can hold?
To fight and protect, the land, Pakistan
Here we are now, its women and children
As decimation begins, as destruction rains
For being what they are, for seeing what they see
Hear these mountains, hear these rivers
Our plight, our fall, but you not,
To no effect, to no use, our history
Only in shame, you witness, our demise
Witness these mountains, whispers these rivers
Those painful moments of separation from its past
Hear these mountains and rivers, echoes of suffering
Death alone not enough, like those mists we rise!
They say “not important this place and its people”
The rivers gomal and tolchi and blushing meadows
The old peace now broken, with absent serenity
As we play fools and have become devil’s advocate
The old uprisings we have forgotten,
At our own peril, no one returns once you have broken
The old vows and traditions, as they whisper
Remain it will in their hearts, these tales of torture
Witness these mountains, whispers these rivers
Those painful moments of separation from its past
Hear these mountains and rivers, echoes of suffering
Death alone not enough, like those mists we rise!
As these snows drifts into horizon and its story
With old tales of my place and of my ancestors
As the fire drifts out, as the day filled with noise
Strange and ugly, the ways to serve this injustice
Lay there the bodies and limbs, in questions
The old houses, lives and traditions and hate
Witness these mountains, whispers these rivers
Those painful moments of separation from its past
Hear these mountains and rivers, echoes of suffering
Death alone not enough, like those mists we rise!
Carry they the burden of this pain and grief
On our backs and on our minds, as they torch
Village after village, life after life, and we watch
In silence they protest, in death they protest
Witness these mountains, whispers these rivers
Those painful moments of separation from its past
Hear these mountains and rivers, echoes of suffering
Death alone not enough, like those mists we rise!
The old rivers, of life and peace, now broken
Only the blood flows out now and the tears
As we lose our own, through days and nights
Displaced and tortured, our minds and souls
In unmarked graves, in its rivers and steppes
As Waziris roam in mountains of their own
In time and in history, teaches it them not
The old lessons, of revenge and hate
Witness these mountains, whispers these rivers
Those painful moments of separation from its past
Hear these mountains and rivers, echoes of suffering
Death alone not enough, like those mists we rise!
I am the women, I am the children
Of this land, not many left to grieve
All gone now, and you say you promise
To build our lives and our homes
Hear these voices from the unmarked graves
As passion grows, as those tales reenacted
Still present here I am, death alone not enough
Witness these mountains, whispers these rivers
Those painful moments of separation from its past
Hear these mountains and rivers, echoes of suffering
Death alone not enough, like those mists we rise!
Cannot kill us with your lies and fears,
As life will bloom in those paths,
Deserted and torn in its awake
Never will we surrender our past and present
Never will we surrender those blushing meadows
Whispers of gomal and tolchi close to us
Witness these mountains, whispers these rivers
Those painful moments of separation from its past
Hear these mountains and rivers, echoes of suffering
Death alone not enough, like those mists we rise!
Hear these rivers and mountains our echoes
Death alone not enough, like those mists we rise
Besides those blushing rivers gomal and tolchi
Death alone not enough, like those rivers we flow
Hear these rivers and mountain those echoes
Death alone not enough, as chants begin to rise
Hear those mountains and rivers in its awake
Death alone not enough, we are more
Hear these mountain and rivers, in roar
Those voices from unmarked graves
Hear those mountains and rivers in its path
Those torrents of spring, death alone not enough!
““Dedicated to my very own in Waziristan- men, women and children whose lives have been shattered beyond comprehension and without any reason”.
Kashkin is a Pakistani poet who will contribute to the PTH regulalry
Entry Filed under: Literature, New Writers, poetry. Tags: FATA, gomal, Kashkin, lament, Pakistan, poem, poetry, tolchi, tribal, Waziristan.
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kashkin
1.
Aadil | April 19, 2008 at 10:39 am
Very comphrensive! your knowledge about the subject is commendable!
And it is really nice to see you here as well!
Keep up the good work!
2.
Amir Mehsud | April 22, 2008 at 2:19 am
are you gone crazy?defend Pakistan. my people rebelled against that piece of british created crap called PAKISTAN! faqir of ipi led a war against trashy pakistani mojjahir rule over pukhtuns! we already fought against mughal rule and many others and you expect us wazirs to fall for this pakistani propaghanda poem! tu magaz kharup dey! u gone crazy! stupid fool!Waziristan pukhtun watan dey! za rasmack na yey! pakistaniun kho miz identity kho na dey! what rubbish am i hearing, in waziristan they hate that stupid british colony flag with the moon and star,they used pashtuns to wage jihad against afghan govt in 80’s so those punjabi criminals get power and money over afghans and pashtuns alike! get a life!
3.
Kashkin | April 22, 2008 at 1:50 pm
My dear friend Amir Mehsud,
Nope I am not gone crazy yet as per your comment. Fully intact and amused to see your reply as you have turned a very humanistic poem into something of an agenda to launch your abuse..fair enough. we all are entitled to our opinions and you equally can demonstrate that power of emotion and logic.
“british created crap called Pakistan”..well there is nothing more I can add to this. You hold onto this belief and all i know that I lost 30 members of my family for this country long time ago to
come into existence and still to this day I think it was the right decison my ancestors made and all the sacrifice they had to make and hardships to endure.It is easier to be critical but one has to be appreciative as well for what a country may have done us all. At times we feel that it hasnt but we only have to open our eyes…politicians, army and all the triablism and feudalism may have been bad, but people are not bad. Secondly, I have spent most of my life in those mountains and have known the people and their traditions as well..so that place belong to us all my friend.
This is not a pakistani propaganda poem as it covers the very core human element where oppression and pain settles in. This place is of mine as well in the same way as it is yours. I can describe here all the historical facts and figures but the idea is not to create a mockery of our beliefs and understandings. Either you like or not. and I respect this.
I have always been against those have abused power and responsibility. It goes to all whether punjabi or pashtuns or afhgans, or sindhi and balochs.It is always the minority element within each faction my friend and i represent none of them.
The poem was to highlight the beauty of that place, its people and their character..highlighting no matter what happens that lands and its people dont give up…not just against the oppression but also the terrain they live with and cope.That can hardly be described as pakistani propaganda poem…In anger and hate one cannot achieve anything, only with reflection and wisdom….and for that, it will take time and sacrfice..healing takes time and I am sure you will heal as well.
So my friend,go in peace….. I respect your comments and sentiment…well lets pray that all those involved in corruption and embezzlement are brought to justice either in this life or next be it pubjabi, afghans, pushtuns, you or me…I am all up for it to face the consquences of my actions and I hope next time you be more effective in relaying your opinion across.
and thanks for your comments “get a life”.It so very kind of you. Exchanging insults and indecencies is not what I do..I can do it, but then there is a difference..I forget my own pain and abuse and always remember to see it from where it is coming from…being hurt is one thing and controlling the anger is another.
It is amazing that you hate Pakistan with such vigour and passion and yet you decided to comment upon my poem on pakteahouse. The very existence of Pakistan you hate is still binded to us all as child is in the womb to its mother. Let that anger wither and think as we all are the reflections of the same place…It is up to us how we take this country forward towards progression and peace.
Regards
kashkin
4.
kinkminos | April 23, 2008 at 5:34 am
might i ask, as i digest your haunting poem, what is signified and/or meant by “kashkin”? (if indeed you would care to elaborate)
5.
Kashkin | April 23, 2008 at 7:07 pm
Kinkminos,
My friends used to call me kashkin in university when I was going through Russian literature during student years and since then this name was adopted as my “pen name”. Also one of them re-arranged my actual name, it turns out to be kashkin as well. The other variations I could think of in terms of its significance, I guess the the word kash and kin….It is this concept of hope and being attached to the concept of kin which I treat that as in the form of humanity…..So if one were to mix urdu “kash” and english “kin”, then I guess one could turn into something in between hope and desire for this humanity.
Thanks for your comments and also to tell you of an appreciation that exists for your poetry as well on my part..Keep up the good work.
Keep writing
6.
Amir Mehsud | May 10, 2008 at 1:43 am
you lost 30 members of your family for a british agent called Jinnah! if Muslims were so oppressed by the so called hindus then why do they still have more muslims there than pakistans total population. Ive lost lots of friends and family members during the pertition because they didnt follow this rubbish pakistan state. My grandfather was in the red shirts and we all remmeber how pakistani soldiers use to murder pashtun women to bring fear into the wazir people and others in NWFP’s. Pakistan doesnt even name pashtun areas by their rightful pukhtun name but still with a british colony name,these cockroaches in pakistan and also those traitors of the pashtun people oppose and veto any proposal regarding such renaming. In waziristan we didnt allow a single punjabi even after pertition. We dont want Pakistan,we are our own people. We dont want that jinnah british agent created state imposing that flithy language URdu on our lands.
Pashtun wazirs are being murdered in Waziristan and you think seriously these people will be proud to be a Pakistani? you must be joking buddy!!! 5000 years ancient race of people change into a new bunch of fools called pakistanis hahah must be joking! i dont know about other provinces but we in waziristan preserve our land and culture and we will make sure we dont have this bhangra culture spreading into the final region where pukhtunwali is practiced and where pukhtun culture is vibrant.
even faqir of ipi regarded this kaffir pakistan state as a munafiq plan of dividing the region and you can see what he means now as you see the politics in the region. from the massacres of pashtuns in liaqat to the massacre of pashtuns in waziristan and swat. Pakistan days are over! the dream of a homeland of pashtuns RUN BY PASHTUNS is coming very soon!