MY UNCLE LEFT CARPET WEAVING

Yesterday, I found my Uncle doing another labor
To bring tears in my eyes
I asked him why he left carpet weaving
He sighed and told that it is gone

I was amazed and responded that how it was possible
He told that in the world of uncertainties, everything is possible
I began to look at his hands that are evident of hardworking on carpet looms
The hands that irrigated this tradition to make it living

But the journey came to a standstill
Neither money nor fame is there anymore
I threw the look out of my room
To forget the memories that are to haunt

He began to work in paddy fields
And threw his anger on the ground
I was reminded of those days when he gave me pocket money during my school days
He was never hesitant to offer me some coins of large importance

He constructed a home due to this occupation
And taught her daughters to get education
In the blazing Sun, I began to perspire and reminded him working on the loom in shade
Sweat was dripping in a chain to know the value of the traditional craft

Sensing urgency, I again asked him why you left Qaleen Kaem?
He responded not to mention this that is of no worth.
Sell my loom and help the government
We are ruined and will curse our fate

He advised me never to love this tradition
There are memories that will haunt and nothing more