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.

(Love your mother tongue? This Independence Day, tell The Quint why and how you love your bhasha. You may even win a BOL t-shirt! Sing, write, perform, spew poetry – whatever you like – in your mother tongue. Send us your BOL at [e-mail] or WhatsApp it to 9910181818.)