When her trembling gaze falls on her desolate bed

Turning on her side she throws her head on the pillow

Her sighs rise like smoke from her singed heart

At the sudden tinkle of the bangles of girls asleep

As though even sleep is forbidden for a widow

A short-lived union has left an eternal fervour

A shade at the height of noon is now an era of happiness

The water ran out before the thirst could be slaked

Fretfully she tosses and turns on the bed

Her restless body like mercury in fire

Sometimes falls back with a sigh or sits up with a cry

The finger holding a curl of hair stiffens

The despondent sighs rising to her lips halt

And sometimes her glance falls on her bare wrists and freezes

She finds no place for herself in this big wide world

Such is her despair that she doesn’t even remember her husband

All she recalls is how her mother-in-law and sister-in-law treat her

Her chest feels like bursting with grief with the pain shooting through her heart

She also remembers how her mother and sister avoid her

And how someone has left her behind in such a world

With the gardener in the grave, who will now tend to the spring?

Her own arrows will be used to hunt her down

The hand reaches for the bottle of poison on its own

When no one comes forward to help the helpless

And the heart, agitated, cries out, urging her to leave this world at the earliest

If you have broken your bangles, break this chain of life too

Only when your breath leaves you, will you find your lost existence

If not that, at least you will find a solitary grave

Where no one will look at you with wounding eyes

No one will stop you from laughing or crying as you please

Where everyone has known suffering and loves justice

Your guide has gone on ahead and the path before you is clear

Entangled in these thoughts, her breathing becomes shallow

And her hand brings the bottle of poison to her lips

Irritably blinking her eyes, uncertain and gasping for breath

She drinks all the poison, trembling and shivering

Her limbs fall loose at death’s mighty heave

Her breath leaves her, her pulse drops, her lips turn blue

Her eyes droop, a tear falls, she hiccups and is gone

With a sigh she goes to sleep in the embrace of death

Sigh once more so that the noose of Hind’s customs goes up in flames

Kaifi salutes the death of a young widow

Doshiza Malan

Lo pau phatii woh chhup gaii taaron ki anjuman

Lo jaam-e-mahr se woh chhalakne lagi kiran

Khichne laga nigaah mein fitrat ka baankpan

Jalve zamiin pe barse zamiin ban gaii dulhan

Guuunje taraane subh ka ik shor ho gaya

Aalam mai-e-baqaa mein sharaabor ho gaya

Phulii shafaq fazaa mein hina tilmilaa gaii