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Poems and Verses by Farahdeen Khan ©




The rivers are running red
There is no sign of light
For miles and miles

It is a thin red line
A guard is keeping vigil
Making sure no one crosses it

I see my brethren on the other side
My heart squirms
My breath aches

Half of my foot is on this side
The other half  
On the other side

A barrel of a gun is kept on my temple
“Where do you belong?”
Asks a voice

“With my.”  
“With your country
Or your bother?” It asks 

My brother rushes up too
His foot now 
In alignment with mine

A gun is kept on his temple 
“Where do you belong?”
Asks a voice

He is silent
A barrel is now burrowed into his skin
Blood is dripping down

I want my brother to speak
I want him to say –
What they want to hear

I am asking you again –
“Where do you belong?”
Asks the same voice 

“I belong to my brother,” I speak up
As the barrel is shoved into 
My temple

“You support your brother?
“Not this country?”
The voice screams 

The same question is asked
To my brother
He still remains silent

“Finish them!”
Screams another voice 
Two bullets go off simultaneously

“For my country,” I murmur as I fall
“Is my brother,” says my brother as he falls
Our eyes meet for the last time

Then there is silence 
Forever

The mud covering us as a shield

Farahdeen Khan
September 30th, 2016


You came along…

I talked all day
Sometimes joyful and sometimes sad
Lost in your company
I became a stranger
To myself.

You went away…

And I stared at the walls
Waiting for you to come back
All alone…
Only the constant ticking of my clock
For company

I passed my desk…

A blank page beckoned.
Yearning for words
It cried out to me – 
Where have you been so long my friend?

Farahdeen Khan 

January 27th, 2007


What if the sky is infinite?
The earth is still free to sing
Vegetables know their songs
Well, they season each spring

What if every beast be free

If it knows not how to dance
What good then to have the right?
And leave the choice to chance

Down by the lake the water is clear

Yet things are not what they always seem.
To understand, they say, well the plainest words
One must first learn to dream

Farahdeen Khan 

January 27th, 2007

Emptiness is all that I see
When I look into another’s eyes
So little feeling, so many lies –
Are there many others like me?

Do feelings exist here and there?

I hear emptiness echo everywhere,
And wonder where my own feelings went –
Are there many others like me?

Have they been buried in the vast desert sand?

Or engulfed by the deep, dark mysterious sea?
Am I the only one who misses them on land?
Or are there many others like me?

Farahdeen Khan

January 29th, 2007


When life is just fine, 
someone leaves. 
Someone always leaves. 
In an instant they are gone – 
flitted away, 
taking the stars from the night 
and the sun from the day!

Gone, 

just like that, 
leaving a cloud in my heart.

Farahdeen Khan

June 29th, 2008

Grant me, O Lord
this only one wish I ask –
let me bleed myself to death.
Let my blood abate the pain of those
who bleed
for me.
Let it set them free.

Farahdeen Khan
March 3rd, 2012

When the rain
washes the watercolours,
reality shows.

A life built on
deceit and malice,
glows.

Where then
will you run, oh man!
Where?

Farahdeen Khan
Match 7th, 2012

Give me back the hand that held me.
The shield that protected me.
The heart that loved me.
And the soul that felt me.  
Give me back
you.
And take me away from
me.

Farahdeen Khan
March 10th, 2012

You watch me sinking
without batting an eyelid.

He seems to know you!
Yells someone.

No, I don’t know him,
you whisper.

I give up
and begin to inch deeper.

Save him! Please!
Cries someone; we don’t know how to swim.

As I go down I read your lips say –
I just did.

Farahdeen Khan
March 18th, 2012

How can you be so peaceful even though?
the pain in your eyes I see.

Do you not know that we are digging?
not one but two graves simultaneously.

Farahdeen Khan
March 18th, 2012

Injured, I am
beyond repair
Deprived
of the very love that
anchors me.

My soul
writhes in pain
unimaginable.
It weeps tears
of grief
of agony.

By the time you –
yes, you…
hear me
silently screaming for help,
without hemlock
too
I would be long gone
lifeless and blue
to the place where I
truly belong.

Farahdeen Khan
March 20th, 2012

My eyes were clear
yet
my heart was whittled
into two.

My soul had taken
my essence
away from me
what to do?

It makes no difference
while I die each moment
a million times
in ache I see

For that smile, true joy
I would die, everyday –
a million times
enduring hurt as it were to be.

Farahdeen Khan
March 22nd, 2012

From his shoulders drooped life
like fresh flowers.
The summer heat, when he smiled
seemed
of the purest winter showers.

Then one day –

A wedge was driven in his heart
heavier than lead.
No efforts to revive him worked
anymore.
He was long dead.

Then –

Along came his little brother
his warm arms, thrilling now with
pulses new,
he ran his hand over his head.
His lips trembled,
his eyes glistened like does dew.
From his shoulders again drooped
life,
and his smile returned
too.

People thanked the
angel,
for having resurrected him from the
dead
and giving him life
anew.

Farahdeen Khan
March 24th, 2012

How can you expect my words to shine
when the light that gives me brightness has
dimmed itself?

How can you expect my body to flourish when the soul
that provides me nourishment has decided to
deprive me of my essence?

How?

Farahdeen Khan
March 28th, 2012

Oh, how very true.
The patience of one
is required -

For the friendship of two.

Farahdeen Khan
April 7th, 2012

Vulgar?

The quim lips
that peep out for
a world view

The willie that
stands up for what
it believes in

That’s not vulgar 
What’s vulgar 
is – You!

Farahdeen Khan
July 14th, 2012

My Child

1

The nucleus of my soul.
The one.
My only child.
Who had to know me
without my having to explain
myself,
had doubted
the very fibre of my existence
Was I hurt?
No.
It was more than that:
it was as if
something had shifted in the deepest layer of my soul.
Sadly,
a simple sorry cannot bring the dead
back to life.
So I ask -
why not think before one gives
voice to unwise thoughts?
One is not that naïve now,
is one?
Life, at times, is cruel.
All I needed was a little love —
just a little.
And when I got none,
I gave him,
what I thought I
ought to have got.
And what did I receive in return?
Brickbats.
Repeated brickbats.
Will I recover from my injury?
I could.
If,
and,
only ‘if’
my child
helps me heal.
But strangely,
he is apathetic,
not sensitive enough
or
sensible enough
to understand
the extent of the damage it has caused.
And how can one heal
when one’s very intention
was to kill, for death
is not caused by a knife
but by wounds
of words.

2

Arsehole. Bastard. Dickhead.
The words pierced through me
like a bullet
Was this my child?
Were these the manners,
that we had instilled in him?
We never taught him to disrespect
elders,
friends or family.
To trivialise
and take lightly matters of love
emotions,
bonds.
To doubt,
to insult –
the very ones who lived
for him.
I am appalled at the various
faces I see.
We each have faces,
some we show, and,
some we hide.
But what we show must be
close to what we hide.
If this is the real you,
why then pretend to be a
Saint?

3

Was my child at fault?
Or was I to blame?
Had I only used an iron hand
when the situation warranted
he would not take things
this lightly,
or, 
to this level of atrocity.
Clearly,
one fights,
argues,
derives evil pleasure by tormenting the
one’s they love,
and
takes for granted
only when there’s
ownership,
when there’s
genuine love,
and so
he can do as he so wishes
with me,
but,
my inherent fear –
what if this pattern occurs
with others?
It is certainly bound to,
for habits that sink into us
take deep root
and die hard.
And yes,
it was me -
I used my heart
and not my head
and I
let him be.
Therefore,
I shouldn’t cry foul
for what I had helped fashion
and deserved.
I live for my child
I shall I live for my child.
Needless to say
I cannot stop
loving my child
regardless of whether
my child loves me or not;
As providence
has made the love of the
parent
to his child
uncontested, unconditional.
Yet, his outburst,
his immaturity
caused me great anguish –
it was as if
something had shifted
in the deepest layer of my soul.

Farahdeen Khan
Thursday, February 20th 2014


Anna

Anna, today I sit on the brick bench of the house,
where I am struck with an unending emptiness.
I remember how we used to play at this hour, 
and the breeze caressed us and said, 
“Love your brotherhood, boys...”

Now I shall go and hide
as before, from any admonishing, 
and I trust you not to give me away 
through the gardens, the entrance, the corridors
And later, you hide, 
and I promise not to give you away too,
I sincerely promise. 
Remember 
how we made ourselves cry my big elder brother, 
from so much laughing!

Anna, you went into hiding
one day, just like that,
but, instead of chuckling, you were sad.
And your twin heart, your Kid, grew anxious
of those dead evenings
grew annoyed at not finding you. 
And now
a shadow falls on my soul.

Listen, Anna, please don’t be late
coming out to get me, all right?
For without you, your Kid
might just be away, 
lost, 
from the cry of laughter.
So just come and get me, Anna.
Please.
Just come and get me,
soon, 
all right…
because this unending emptiness is 
making me 
sad and lonely!


*Anna means elder/older brother.


Farahdeen Khan
Thursday, October 17th 2013