At a certain point I lost track of you.
You needed me. You needed to perfect me:
In your absence you polished me into the Enemy.
Your history gets in the way of my memory.
I am everything you lost. Your perfect enemy.
Your memory gets in the way of my memory…
There is nothing to forgive. You won’t forgive me.
I hid my pain even from myself’; I revealed my pain only to myself.
There is everything to forgive. You can’t forgive me.
If only somehow you could have been mine,
what would not have been possible in the world?
Agha Shahid Ali (Kashmiri Poet)
on communal violence and exodus of Kashmiri Pandits for Kashmir (India)