Askar

I see kings and warriors, Saqi

Emblems of the people,

Held up and called upon

As if this is some victory

It matters little, Saqi, so far

For those we have sought

Hold power between their fingers

Yet wait patiently behind bars.

Though forced to crouch in cells,

They raise their hands, in thanks,

Ask for mercy so water may pour

In the people’s drought stricken wells

Here is where Kauthar rains

Here, in our Askari lament

Not the lush reams of silver

Or the terror tyrants maintain

And even as the poison cuts its way,

Choking, and churning through

Twenty eight long torn years

I only, hear Kauthar, in what Askari says.

By Ali A. Naqvi