Posted in Poetry

TRAGEDY

TRAGEDY

Lost deep down in woods
Among the nostalgic memories of childhood
My cheeks were sweeter than honey
And I used to look like a cute bunny
Rivers of love and care were flowing around
Drowning was I in its joyful sound
Green were the surroundings around me
Blue was the sky with clouds like a sea
Like a forest it was and I as its bunny
Every day there was wonderful and sunny
Love in my heart was real then, but I never knew
Beautiful as well like the pearly dew
Innocent emotions like bees searching flowers
Tired they would come near my cheeks as honey borrowers
Fairness oozing from the heart like that of dove
Every stories encircling me were of innocent love
This beautiful forest was having everything perfect
Everything living conjointly without forming separate sect
Beautiful was the sunshine, beautiful was the rain
Healing every living one, eradicating the pain
Peace in its true essence was before my eyes
Truthfulness, a law of forest with no scope for lies
Morning with chirps of birds, evening with song of nightingale
Daytime in the lap of woods listening an unending tale
Unaware was I that time was burning the trees
Ruining the honey hives of the forest bees
River of love day by day was drying up
Destruction of time was offering everyone the death cup
Left are just those nostalgic memories
These burns of fire have no remedies
Now I see the flames swallowing the branches
The woods I am lost in, is now left of ashes
I come everyday to stifle the spreading fire
Helpless have I become to see everything continuing to expire
Every one leaving for someone’s new forest
With the same cycle, first to reforest and again to deforest
The winds once that delighted the soul
Is helping the fire to burn up whole
Along with tress it burned my innocence and peace
For there is no power on earth to make time to cease
What we think of life is just a fallacy
The lost of childhood for me is a tragedy

Posted in Poetry

BLOOD & REVOLUTION

BLOOD & REVOLUTION 

Come and tear this body apart again
Don’t let the blood to fall short
Untill now have we sparged this land
Let not the flower gardens dry up

See you the rouge of these flower gardens
Very less wonders are like this in the world
Why not flower will glow with happiness
When the land is the home of martyrs

I am in love with these wind
Which are coming from the paradise
Hidden is a secret in them
Whose harness is ours evocation

The blood of the martyrs
Every time has been the cause of revolution
It is the fortune of this nation
That in this time her martyrs are alive

The river of the blood
Have seen we flowing for a long period
The flower gardens of this land
Have been sparged by this blood

Posted in Poetry

COMPLAIN

COMPLAIN

When I meet the beautiful hearts
I complained the one inside me
Where you have lost your beauty?
A reply came to me
Deep in the world, amongst your desires
You betrayed your eyes
And lost your real sight
I used to beat requesting you
Don’t go too far behind them
Soon, they will blind you
And will make you deaf
I needed love
You gave me greed
For today you complain to me
You unveiled me before the world
And veiled me from remembering the God
I cried in the nights
When you used to dream
Dreaming the world and its lies
Go and ask the mirror
Where you used to beautifying yourself
But ruining mine
You exposed me to ugliness
And today expecting beauty from me
Go and complain to your worldly desires
For they are still ruining my beauty
They still won’t listen you
For they have in their genes, to deceive you
But there is always someone waiting for you
Your Lord, the most gracious and the most merciful
Only He is there to give my beauty back
You complained me, but for long time
I had a complain against you

Posted in Poetry

DIFFERENT 7

The readers will find this style of writing very much different and unique. It’s something that I have myself innovated and formulated. In this style each one of the stanza is not related with each other, instead depicting their own meanings different from one another. So I have named it “DIFFERENT 7”. If you will like it, please try to comment about how you felt after reading them.

DIFFERENT 7

They value me back when I value them
Is there anyone who will value even my frivolousness?

Long time after, I am standing in front of mirror
Is it me, who is standing there? Or someone forgotten of himself

Words were on my lips, but without voice
When I got the voice, I forgot the words

I saw your face keeping my gaze down
Still you thought I ignored you
While you never knew that your respect is your face for me

They changed the meaning of love, and it changed them
When they changed themselves, love changed its meaning

For now on, I will walk without the heart
As I am afraid, you will steal it again

Searching your face in every faces I see
But I fail to find your heart in them

 

Posted in Poetry

MOTHER

MOTHER

You grew older and forget
The unconditional love of your mother
Never keeping upon you any dept
Never would you find this from another
Never think that you could repay
Even if you try untill hair would get grey
She has the most kindest heart for you
If there is anyone besides her, tell me who?
You don’t remember your infancy
That’s why you have took her service literally
She did not even gave her nights for your sleep
But even her part of body and blood for your upkeep
Still she sees a little child of her in you
For whom she still cares endlessly
Don’t let that time to come when you would rue
For she is the one to be beholden most preciously
After the utmost love for God and His messenger
If someone deserves after that the greatest love
She is your mother, always been your comfort seeker
From all the things she had in life, you have been the above
Her status is so high in this world
That even paradise lie beneath her feet
Make her place in your life to be pearled
Everyday when you would go out, don’t forget her to greet
Her prayers for you are from her heart
The heart which remembers you with every beat
Still existing of all kinds of love, her love is the state of art
It’s true, the paradise lies beneath her feet

Posted in Poetry

THE WORLD WHERE WE LIVE

THE WORLD WHERE WE LIVE

Don’t get despair from this world, it’s her habit
Nor she’s according to you, nor according to me
Underneath her are earthquakes, above in her sky are storms
Not she was ever peaceful, nor she would ever be

She has different meanings for different beings
Different hearts for her have different feelings
Unsymmetry, a feature deep embedded in her
A witness of a contrast between life and death

Home to billions of lives, but temporary
There is nothing limitless, but measured precisely
Some she destroys with her wealth, and some with poverty
At last everyone living, dies in her vicinity

You love or hate her, least matter to her
She has seen both the saints and tyrants, that came
Some praised her beauty, some cursed her calamity
Some came to make her, and some came to break

Still she rotates, still she revolves
Bringing days and nights, bringing summer and winter
Generation after generation, still carrying the freight
Freight of life and freight of death

Posted in Poetry

HALF WIDOW

These words can nowhere depict the real feeling of those women whose husbands were taken into custody amongst the conflict in Kashmir starting in the 1990s and they never returned home till this day. Now their wives are still in wait for their return and not sure whether they are alive or dead. So they are called now to be half-widows. So I have tried to write some words regarding them

HALF WIDOW

Her Smile lost somewhere in the valleys
Left is her body, whose soul separated long ago

Some memories left in the heart, rest all happiness has vanished
Hands left for holding a photograph, and voiceless lips in front of the world

Tyrannical is this identity, the world has given her
Nothing left in her life, merely a long wait it has become

No care she has for herself when life itself snatched life from it
Her face used to be like a bud, but it’s bloom disappeared before it was summer

Got successive humiliation and reproach from the world
Now life merely an unknown journey, unknown of destination, unknown of justice

Her mind left in ambiguity and conflict
Whether to pray for his well being if alive, or pray for paradise if dead

What name she should give herself? Someone go and tell her
Someone tell her address of her life and where lies her decree

Death comes and take life for once and all
For what would take death from her life, which is already dead

Is this a paradise? Where poison flows in her rivers
The poison which took her happiness away, and left her with the eternal sadness

Her pain is felt by the sky, forgotten to rain her mercy
Now shed only the tears for the soil of her heart

Her long wait is an eternal winter of an unremembered woods
Whose birds have desert their song, waiting for the sun.

She now writes the letter to her name
To write the words, words of hope and faith

Posted in Poetry

HERO OF WOODS

HERO OF WOODS

Once, I was walking along a brooke
To find the happiness for the lost paradise
At dawn I started till dusk began to appear
Still I was nowhere near the treasure 
As night started covering the day
I saw sparkling drops flowing with water
At first I thought I was dreaming
But soon their brightness pinched me into reality
My curiosity overcame my daylong fatigue
And I started to apprehend what they read

“There was hero in the woods of a valley
With fair color and heart full of bravery
His nights spent under the canopy of sky
His day in the shade of trees of paradise
He measured the chest of the mountains
With feet of hope and in search of life
And being a witness of the deserted valley
Which long time ago fell to savagery
He hid his tears of pain for his land
And with them vanished in the woods
Soon God made him the hope
Of the despaired roots of the woods
It’s fragrance again delighted the hearts
Of the folks and the dejected life
It’s greenery again appeared to bring freedom
For the birds which long time ago went away
Those woods were again on the song
With the music from swirling winds
The paradise returned to the valley
With a hero of hearts of its beings”

“But now our hero is lost
Since then the woods are crying
It’s tears are flowing in this brooke 
Which started with the hidden tears of the hero
Take some water from this stream
And put it on the wound of the paradise
For it would heel her
But would not being back the happiness 
And take these hidden tears of the hero
There is a flower on his grave
With scars of deep meaning and feeling
Sprinkle it on that flower to quench its thirst”

I fell down on my knees
And took that water and hidden tears
From that brooke and came back to the valley

Posted in Poetry

PAIN IN WORDS

PAIN IN WORDS

Why there will be not pain in these words?
When the ink of pen itself is blood

Imagine the state of heart from where they emerge
Also of eyes that witnesse tyranny

Emotions, do they have any value in my land?
Or just a commodity to be bought and sold

My eyes now try to find most darkest part of night
To abstain them from seeing the red

Beauty itself can’t make my land paradise
Nor any claims can make everything all right

What an irony is out there in the world?
They say “Save the water”, but I say, who will save the blood?

Has this world been always like this?
One part of it enjoy life at the cost of death of other

If it is so, then I have no regrets nor any pain
Because to settle this injustice, I firmly believe day of judgment would surely come

Posted in Poetry

COMING HOME

COMING HOME

At airport
Waiting for my flight to take off at 7am
Heading back to the north
To my valley
There a small place surrounded by the mountains
And a beautiful lake with the frozen surface layer
Winter has arrived
Snow on its verge to fall on plains
As peaks have already recieved gift of whiteness
Firewood stored for to consume
Hands holding fire pots to keep them alive
Seeds sleeping deep in dormancy
Too lazy to spring out due to cold
Clouds in sky are exited
To bring up a new show of snow for everyone
Giving eyes  delight which are waiting for seasons
I am just dreaming how it would be back in the valley
A breeze of happiness is already touching my emotions
How I would embrace those mountains looking from the plane window
I always tell those who are far down in plains
My place is the beautiful one
And how desperate I am to be home again
There, my friend is a river
Whose melody makes me asleep in the night time
It listens me when I sit on her side
And give music to my unknown songs
I have no words to describe those woods
As if they are home to all the homeless
Their evergreen makes my heart green
Eradicating pain, diminishing worries
Million words less to describe
What my relationship is with that valley