I entered the room
Took the raincoat off
Draped it over the peg.
Turned around, suddenly
Looked at it long.
It looked like me
Suspended from the peg.
The very same shoulders,
Long unwieldy arms, and
Upper back
The same stature and
Girth of neck collar here.
Buttons unsettled by the pull
Of buttonholes.
I looked at it well
I looked at it all over.
Opened the door and
Walked out.
Walked out of this length
Of clothes.
This establishment
This shop.
Two unknown men came,
Asked them:
"Any personal effects
Of the deceased?
Any old clothes, skullcap,
Scribblings, notes,
Unpublished poems?
He took to wearing
A raincoat
Towards the end."
"Yes! He had this coat.
It hung from a peg
Upstairs.
One could not bear to
See it, initially. Then
We wore it one day.
Wore it till it suited us
Then it lay around.
Some days ago
A rag collector came.
We sold it to him, finally.
Say, why did you need it? "
"We required it, of course,
For the literary museum.
Who did you sell it to?
Any identifying mark?
We might still
Find it."
"But how/
How do you expect
To get it
From the mountain of rags
At the collector's?
How will you fish it out?
As for the identifying mark, well
Yes!
Embroidered on the inner
Lining, was the
Label
‘Sheikh Ilahi Tailor Master'"

(Courtesy: Braj B. Kachru, Kashmiri Literature; T.N.Kaul, Gems of Kashmiri Literature; Kasmir, Canada)