The Echo - based on the devastating effect of US invasion in Afghanistan

Eyes were ajar but didn’t want to wake up
Neither did they all, whom I had to shake up

I was always the first one to be up, acutely those days
Zaid, my grandson, the my life’s essence, was still asleep
Today, like always began looking at his crystal face
Listening to the timbre of his breath, so deep

He couldn’t sleep without me
And I couldn’t wake up without him
Entreaty with god, my only plea
Was him, my wish and my whim

Our small timber house was perhaps enough
For all eight members of our family
It was warm with the warmth of our bonds
Warmth of our blood, and of the green tea!

My daughter in law, beautifully brewed the beverage
The potion that used to awaken us in that cold
“Oh! He’s awaken” I said, nipping the tea
He, still in his dreams, rapt in the story untold

My two sons and my eldest grandson, Aahil
Were now ready to go for work
My granddaughter, Yara came to me
With her friend, a lamb, whom I tried to shirk

She said, “You’re forgetting something, aren’t you?”
“Oh! Yes. Raiz, we have to go to the market.”
“But…” “Don’t worry, it won’t take much time”
“But for what?” “Some clothes and a carpet”

“That’s alright, today, we can afford to stay”
Said Rehan, while tickling him
And he, was chuckling, tittering on hay
“Wool is ready, we have to trim”

Raiz went out, to get the wagon from the farm
And I looked at him, kissed his cheek
“Get back on time” “Don’t be alarmed!”
He gurgled, trying to say, but couldn’t speak

We took the artery going down the valley
I murmured “For him I’ll get a cap”
And then, we saw a fleet of flying metal
Erasing the town, bombing the dell’s lap

My eyes blinked, the flames winked
The blaze was so intense that we were jolted
A buoyant town was now extinct
My heart was numb but head revolted

“What is that?” “They’re bombing the village”
“Why?” “Don’t know, but we cannot stay here”
I couldn’t speak, but see the pillage
“Just go back” the sinister air, I couldn’t bear

“They’re coming!” the sinful machines
flew over us “They’re going back!”
Little did I know that they wouldn’t
But fill my life with angst, with a sudden attack

Before I could do anything
They dropped a fireball
Near my cottage, my Elysian
My eyes witnessed the dead fall

The dead were falling, the shed was falling
A tear trickled down my cheek
I stood still, my life instead was falling
Ears could hear silent men screech

The windmill, which before, was erect
Was now like the walls, oblique
And then the last metal of fire fell from
The metallic vultures, by callous clique

A huge explosion up surged
Swallowing the entire hamlet
The debris fell, gripped by flames
Eyes wanted to seal, the blaze didn’t let

The fire fused with the hyetal of the glen
My tears fused in the fiery wind
The sky was draped with hideous black
And land was now black skinned

Another vulture dropped another fireball
In the wagon, Raiz was inside
In a few seconds, I was thrown in the river
My heart was ablaze in water; I cried

I ran towards my home
Up the cliff, I saw grief biffed
Ashes of wood, and of souls
Roasted bodies, charred air, I sniffed

Not all men were deceased
All were not that fortunate
With bronze blood, some were greased
As if of living carcasses, it was a fete

In the midst of myriad facades
And clamor of death
I ignored the sound of a baby bellowing
And the timbre of his deep breath

I ignored the screeches of the handless
Condoned the silence of the lifeless
Pardon me, I didn’t mean to
But they condoned my apology, I guess

At last, I reached my Elysian,
A paradise lost in the flares
Flares even covered molten corpses
Perhaps those were of my heirs

Once again, I heard a baby bellowing
Once again, it made me insane
In the air, the echo was flowing
I realized, he was alive, not slain

Rashly, I went near the windmill
Where I heard that elegy, those cries
It was all covered with fallen ramparts
I couldn’t see his crystal face, or his moist eyes

He heard me, his cries got agonizing
Shrills; hysterical, I became
Started removing the sterile ruins
Blowing the fire off and calling his name

Skin was shedding off my hands
Like autumn’s withered leaves
Blood coagulated with the singed wood
Tears with dust, gathered into cleaves

The echo of his cries was still in the air
But soon I realized that it was a resonance
The burnt paradise was now silent
But an abysmal mirth, I did dispense

The flying vultures took his life
He was of eight months, I was eighty five
He wasn’t a terrorist, his crystal eyes closed forever
Without him, I think, believe, that I shouldn’t be alive