(When a poet dies in Pakistan, friends often hold a condolence
meeting to pass a resolution affirming that the poet was
a Godfearing patriot mistakenly persecuted by the authorities.)
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One of the most powerful poems ever read by me. Revolutionary thoughts much ahead of time. The taunts of the mean were laurels to me; The wind and the dust were my soul mates. Don't be distressed if I am left unburied If the priest denies me the final rites.
Reading this a few days after Fehmida Riaz's death: like all great tragedy there is redemption in her writing.