poem by Muin Mehraj

 

From the window

Our hands open again just to claw the next war
and our men die against the fences
like hanged clothes
behind doors.

Little kids wearing warm jackets
on the dim streets aiming at each other
with wooden guns,
“Die in glory” shouts the little boy to the other
who falls pretending….

Creation, we are
at war.



Muin Mehraj is a student of literature in a Srinagar-based college.

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