REMORSE : Zulfiqar Naqvi

REMORSE

Zulfiqar Naqvi 

 

Lying on a bed in the ICU,

Trembling, weeping—fear I knew,

I saw a tall man by my side,

With a film that held my shattered pride.

He showed the path I chose to tread,

The words I spoke, the life I led,

He made me watch with helpless eyes,

The truth behind my own disguise.

I saw my wrath upon the weak,

The pain I caused made sufferers bleak,

No trace of mercy, none of grace,

Only hatred I’d embrace.

I had power and I had might,

But used it wrong and not for right,

The strength I held, a gift so rare,

I turned to harm instead of care.

Then came the storm, the nearing fate,

A reckoning I could not abate,

Not in some distant, unknown hour,

But moments near—with crushing power.

A lonely stage, no soul but me,

To face my darkened destiny,

My courage failed, my spirit shook,

At every step, each path I took.

I begged the man, “Send me again,

Let me undo this trail of pain,”

But calm and cold, he did reply,

“No soul returns once time runs dry.”

The film revealed what I had been,

A life corrupted deep within,

Though I possessed the threads to save,

I chose instead a darker grave.

Now I descend to sorrow’s bay,

Where light and hope have slipped away,

A barren land, a burning thirst,

A silent curse—my own, my worst.

Lost within that dreadful scene,

He took my breath—left me unseen.

(Zulfiqar Naqvi  is a prolific Urdu poet and former announcer with All India Radio. He has served as the Chief Editor of Insight Weekly and is the Founder-President of Muntaha-e-Fikr, an international literary organisation. He is a retired Principal of the School Education Department, Jammu & Kashmir.)