in indian-occupied kashmir, there are mass graves of an estimated 8,000-10,000 unidentified men & boys, dragged from their homes & never seen again. despite photos documenting their lives, the army denies these men ever existed. i. when the army comes,
From the Collection Daughter of the Mountains
in indian-occupied kashmir, there are mass graves of an estimated
8,000-10,000 unidentified men & boys, dragged from their homes &
never seen again. despite photos documenting their lives, the army
denies these men ever existed.
i.
when the army comes, the men disappear
when their wives ask where the men went
they are told the men did not exist.
the men never existed. they imagined
their husbands, slippers neat by the front
door, entire afternoons spent with a ghost
by the river, the roti tucked in the basket.
weddings, fantasied by entire villages. after,
the women walk the soil, barefoot, searching
for a stone that might tell them where
their husband lay. they speak in the language
of land, their grief held by the mushrooms,
by each tiny blade of grass & dancing pollen,
fragile. once, you loved me & then you were taken.
ii.
oh beloved/ let me follow you/ let me lay
roses where you rest/ let me write your
epitaph in the dirt/ soft/ in case you return/
did you flee to the trees/ did you cross
a border/ did you forget/ was it painful/
were you afraid/ could you find peace/ is it light
where you are now/ can you smell the jasmines/
did you run/ was someone next to you/
did they hold your hand/ were you in prison/
did they beat you/ did you break/ was it by gun/
did they turn you around/ did you say my name/
did you close your eyes/ were you brave/
does it matter/
iii.
the army does not speak to the earth.
they crack it open, metal & drill.
dirt holds the bodies of the men,
of the ghosts, the earth blooms
their names through wildflowers, multicolored
& frail. there was no man. only the story
of him. here, the men disappear. here,
the women marry their imagination,
their children: miracles, a ghost story survived.
their children: dancing in the night’s light.
their children: staring into the woods.
their children: half whisper & half birdsong.
____________________________

Excerpted from Daughter of the Mountains: poems of heartbreak & homecoming by Fatimah Asghar. Copyright © 2026. Available from One World, an imprint of Random House, a division of Penguin Random House, LLC.
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