Pre-Partition Memories Beautifully Told in This Bol Poem
Gone are the days...
Grandmother’s Radio
Narrate me the stories from
the un-partitioned lands,
of neighbours’ offering Namaz
and people going to Gurudwaras.
Of friendships between people
Outgrowing the margins of religions.
Of neighbours celebrating Ramzan
and Gurupurab and Diwali.
Of kind men standing together
in cemeteries and graveyards.
The light teaches us to live
and gift happiness.
The wicked mind of men
rummaged, burnt and left,
The houses that stood together.
The languages that stayed together,
The religions that prayed together.
The children who played together.
The lovers who knew to love.
The articles in the memories,
An abandoned terrace and a trunk of utensils,
A flying dupatta and broken doors.
An unnamed photograph in the almirah and a feeble chair,
A library of books and school benches lay there deserted,
deprived of the touch of remembrance.
She remembers her old radio,
Singing songs of togetherness in the large land
With a heart belonging to each.
Before being wretched into,
Blind borders and dwindling faiths.
She remembers her old radio,
With a vehement longing and gentle memories.
- By Arsheen Kaur
(This article was sent to The Quint by Arsheen Kaur for our Independence Day campaign, BOL – Love your Bhasha. Arsheen has done her Masters in Mass Communications from Jamia Millia Islamia, New Delhi.
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