Afghan Rubab by Palash Mahmud

Even now my fingers feel the touch

of sponge; as if my father's body were

mutated into an aquatic invertebrate

before his last breath.


Since then I have been regretting me

for escaping the route my father coming

after smoking a cigarette.


If there were a second coming

of the shadow without his body,

not in a dream but in real time.

I wouldn't repeat that, I promise.


I missed the moments I stood on

his shadow & listened Afghan rubab

in the saffron rays of early spring.
Photo by Mohammad Husaini on

About the Poet:

Palash Mahmud is a bilingual writer, book critic based in Dhaka, Bangladesh. His poetry, literary reviews and criticisms appeared in Cordite Poetry ReviewActive Muse,  League of PoetsSuperstition Review, The Punch MagazineKitaabEphemeral ElegiesThe Bosphorus Review of BooksPoetry Potion Trouvaille ReviewPoet’s Choice and forthcoming elsewhere. He reads & reviews for Sepia Quarterly.

He writes on his personal blog PM Review. You can also find him palash.mahmud.10 on Facebook & @palashmahmud10 on Twitter. You can email him at 

2 thoughts on “ Afghan Rubab by Palash Mahmud

Add yours

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Powered by

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: