A Tribute to IDPs and Pakistan Army: An Allegory

[courageneverdies]

Hello,

I am posting on this site after a long time. I was thinking from the very start of the Operation “Rah-e-Rast” (Operation Righteous Path) in Swat, Pakistan that how would I can present my gratitude to the IDP’s (Internally Displaced Persons) and Pakistani forces which are engaging terrorists there. I thought for a long while how could I do so, keeping the donations which I and every Pakistani did, aside and opted Poetry to present my thanks to them.

Here is the poem I composed for my brothers which are now labeled as IDPs and Pakistani Army and Armed forces taking part in the operation.

“I WAIT. . .”

Alone I am in this inhuman crowd of men,
Of those, whose truth is fair but lie,
Whose oaths and words were amiable then,
Who at this point just passed me by,

My ‘friends’ they are, they used to claim,
And when they cut they cut my heads,
They slaughtered me in my own God’s name,
And when they shed, merely my blood sheds,

Then they came, the redeemers of mine,
Who claimed the same which my ‘mates’ did,
They came through land and above the pine,
And because of them my ‘mates’ just hid,

They took me to unseen parts of my home,
Though home was there but I homeless,
Under open sky, beneath the hot sunny dome,
My pains and wounds were still no less,

But I was wrong they did help me,
They cured my wounds and cared my pains,
My mates they were in right you see,
They did this all for my gentle gains,


Now I think what made this my fate,
Was this God’s will or my own arranged?
Is happiness my future or despair my mate?
To these questions my mind is to be managed.

At first I supported those fiends, who did
The worst to me and the place I dwell,
And to cover this, they used religion as Lid,
They made me wanderer and my home like hell,

I remained for long under there religious spell,
I walked with them and sustained their acts,
But shortly I heard the admonishing bell,
When they broke down all of their pacts,

This time those rulers who ruled me from far,
Had enough with these traitors of North,
And on them once again they opened a war,
And their warriors, my rescuers, moved forth,

I did not leave my home in past,
When the knights of state came to my lands,
I vowed to fight them till my last,
With those ‘friends’ with hands in hands,

But now I know those ‘friends’ of mine,
Were not my friends but devil’s shade,
These warriors are the true saviors of mine,
And I must leave was the decision I made,

I am here in the encampment of lost,
And warriors fight demons at my land,
The beauty of my land is their host,
And seeks to witness the victorious Band,

I wish to return to the mountains again,
To reap my crop that there has grown,
But I fear those who still are in den,
So I wait till the trumpet is blown.

I wait the time when I become again,
The cultivator of the Mountains I owe,
I wait the time when I see again,
The trees of fruit once again may bow.

I wait. . .​

Here is the URL of www.writers-network.com where this I published earlier.

http://www.writers-network.com/index.cgi?view=70076

Long Live Pakistan …

Long Live Pakistan Armed Forces…

KIT. Victory a few steps ahead.

Thanks

 

[courageneverdies]

In the previous post of this thread I posted a poem which I composed when Operation Rah-e-Rast started. This one is written after our forces have successfully broken the rebellion and with the help of Allah have conquered Swat. When IDPs have returned to their homes.

I hope you'll like it.

I WAIT… NO MORE…

------------------------------
My tarry is over and I am back,
To place which once I called my home,
Things which made my home though lack,
Returned I am to my burning Rome.
------------------------------
The knights have done fighting the fiends,
My land has seen the victorious band,
For better ahead my heart now pleads
To lift again my tools in hand.
------------------------------
Burthen past do disturbs me though,
The ashen faces and splashed vale,
For smell of guns is still to go,
For I’ve to tell a distressing tale.
------------------------------
But when I see my mature yield,
I feel that beauty is present with me,
When I walk with pride in field,
Firm I am that autumn will flee.
------------------------------
I am back and contented I am,
To see the mountains which I owe,
My twinge will faint, it isn’t a ham,
When fruiting tress, once again will bow.
------------------------------​

KIT Over n Out