ON PARTITION OF INDIA:
Today, I call Waris Shah, “Speak from inside your grave”
And turn, today, the book of love’s next affectionate page

Once, one daughter of Punjab cried; you wrote a wailing saga
Today, a million daughters, cry to you, Waris Shah

Rise! O’ narrator of the grieving; rise! look at your Punjab
Today, fields are lined with corpses, and blood fills the Chenab

Someone has mixed poison in the five rivers’ flow
Their deadly water is, now, irrigating our lands galore

This fertile land is sprouting, venom from every pore
The sky is turning red from endless cries of gore

The toxic forest wind, screams from inside its wake
Turning each flute’s bamboo-shoot, into a deadly snake


With the first snake-bite; charmers lost their spell
The second bite turned all and sundry, into snakes, as well

Drinking from this deadly stream, filling the land with bane
Slowly, Punjab’s limbs have turned black and blue, with pain


The street-songs have been silenced; cotton threads are snapped
Girls have left their playgroups; the spinning wheels are cracked

Our wedding beds are boats, their logs have cast away
Our hanging swing, the Pipal tree has broken in disarray

Lost is the flute, which once, blew sounds of the heart
Ranjha’s brothers, today, no longer know this art

Blood rained on our shrines; drenching them to the core
Damsels of amour, today, sit crying at their door

Today everyone is, ‘Qaido’ thieves of beauty and ardor
Where can we find, today, another Warish Shah, once more.