Softly serenades a sonata,

The piano where thy fingers etched

The notes…

Self-same sanctity… in you reside, of

The river that runs deep between

The lofty hills of Chiltan…

Self-same innocence…in you dwell, of

The hazy mist and frost of the gorges of Quetta…

A Symbol…

That’s You.

Of thine own people, whose voices

Rise , and rise

Beyond the barracks of silence

Paved by guns and bombs…

It’s in You,

In your eyes…the eternal fire

Of the parched hearts of mothers…

Of those tears that have dried up way back…

It’s in You,

Dreams withered,

Of thy friend, shot down

Somewhere in the lanes of memory…

Yet,

Amidst the words in continual fight

We have marked as our own…

Neither the nations,

Nor the wielders of power,

Neither the religions,

Nor the God 

But,

The endless, azure sky as our haven

An ultimate place of belonging… and 

Love,

As the end of all.

Beloved,

I fare thee well, to come back…

Let grace brim

Within you,

From the glorious rays of the sun.

Let the aura of life emanate

In you,

From the melodious ditties of life…

Come back,

A while, from the days that spread before you

Once again,

For dancing along the rhythms of Hazaragi….

For dissenting along the lines of my thought… 

പരിഭാഷ: കേരളത്തിലെ ഏതോ യൂണിവേര്സിറ്റിയിൽ ഇംഗ്ലീഷ് പഠിപ്പിച്ചു ഉപജീവനം നടത്തുന്ന ഒരു സുഹൃത്ത്... നാരായണി എന്ന് ഉപനാമം