Table of Contents
  Index
  About the Poetess
  My Father's Country
  Azadi: 1989-1995
  The Yellow River
  Father
  Summer Rain
  Anantnag
  Mother's Day USA
  Mahtab
  Bride in Red
  Seasons
  Priya
  Refugee
  My Dream
  The City of Dread
  Kashmir Today
  Sukeshi has a Dream
  Autumn Rain
  The Story of Ganesha
  Washer Woman
  The Ever New Poet
  The Yogi
  The Rishi
  My Death
  Self Spectre
  Autumn Song
  Book in pdf format

Koshur Music

An Introduction to Spoken Kashmiri

Panun Kashmir

Milchar

Symbol of Unity

 
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Bride in Red

Like a water drop
inside a flower,
the unsaid, ungiven
in held
between rites
of death and love.

Shame, 
Misfortune,
Misery
remain unknown to him
whose name
tangles with the night
flower, drawn in henna.

Death wore the colors
of her wedding dress.
Look, how black it is now!
How the lilacs and roses
on her face wilted:
un-kissed unseen, unblest.

The groom was no more
than a young boy.
His mother strikes a blow;
her grief is a demon.
She blames
the bride in red.

She must not be wedded
to death; the fruit
of her womb will grow
in human nature.

The final fading of henna
on her palm will make
her weep for him.

She must live to tell
this unspeakable tale
to her granddaughter.

When rain clouds 
gather over Doda hills,
in the eye of the storm
she will see his face once,
then a flash of lightening

will brighten the path
away from the shelter,
their baskets filled with
fruit, vegetable, firewood.

[© Lalita Pandit, June 25, 1998].

 

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