Bows and Boots

I mount the ladder

Smile by smile

Rung by rung

And my Kashmiri hand

Brings the rainbow

Arching the sky

Carefully

Down the Zabarwan ranges.

Suddenly

Out of nowhere

A voice calls out

“Hey you bastard there

Get here

Where’s your curfew pass?”

My rainbow -

Too foreign to him

Falls into pieces

His military boots -

Too familiar to me

Trample it in a hurry.

Not out of fear

But of readiness

I flee the scene

Ready to pluck another rainbow.