Quote

To keep the voice alive against injustice is our moral duty, that is by raising it and not forgetting. Difficult times build a bond among us that pushes us towards our Goal. You can also be a voice by not letting it fade away in you.

Should I Go?……#Kashmir

Some one asked,
“Where is Kashmir?”
I replied,
“Take a few steps,
and then blood stains will lead you there.”
He said,
“People told me that it is a paradise”
I replied,
“Yes, paradise of the graveyards”
He asked,
“Why are you wearing Red”
I replied,
“I wore white, but untill I reached here, it turned red”
He asked,
“What is the weather there?”
I said,
“As Always, tyrannical!”
He asked,
“Should I go?”
I said,
“Suppression has not degraded our character. Our heart are still wide open”
He said,
“I will go.”
I said,
“Even though they cry, but will it make sure to put a smile on your lips”
He greeted,
“Peace be upon you”
I greeted back,
“Peace be upon you too”

Weaved with your Heart

True are those you weave with your heart
Whether they be words or relations

One does not die when his body dies
One dies when his heart is dead

My wish is to see the beautiful hearts
And listen to the stories that changed them

My heart not being a beautiful one
Atleast could keep their stories in mine

I Wonder, what is the secret of the soul?
How it feels the belief we have?

Is life a relationship of body and soul?
Is death an end to this relationship?

Who would answer me these things?
Life! We experience with every passing moment

Death is just one and unknown
So, weave the truth in your heart

Nourish the soul with Words of God
Only His words are absolute

Don’t measure the world with what you have
Measure yourself as per the deeds you have done

Your hands have come empty and would go empty
Be remembered as a prayer in someone’s heart

Life is priceless and a blessing
But will still leave us dead one day

What will remain to be remebered?
That, what you weaved with your heart





Dawn of Peaceful Kashmir

I want to embrace the petals of rose with my blood
As the thorns of separation penetrate deep in my firger tips
Tears and tears only! Where could I hide my pain?
You fell before my eyes and I saw you falling
What more can I say? A deep silence has covered me like the winter snow

O, the loved ones of Kashmir!
You left the depths in us when you entered the graves
Who will fill them? Only tears fall and get lost in them
I want to embrace myself with your blood
But you stand so far! Unreachable to me

Left are our ailing heart and crying souls
Left in us is a hope to meet you after this world
Left in us are prayers to heal the wounded gardens
Our Apple orchads are grieved by looking at faces taking care of them
Only graveyard are peaceful where you are resting
As our homes are cages and our streets are battlegrounds
Weapons and weapons only! In this reign of suppression

Deadly silence has overtaken our senses
Pain is ashamed before us to cause more of it
We now stand in a hope for the dawn to come
Dawn of peaceful Kashmir



See You what?

See you what? My face!
But I lie deep in myself
Where you need to see through my eyes
Unfolding the secrets behind every emotion

No one hands one’s key of heart
Untill not seeing his place in you
Embrace the soul with your soul
Afterall the body is the dirt of the earth


Your eyes see the world before them
Unseen in the seen is the real thing
Don’t take the smile a sign of happiness
Some smiles also emerges from sad hearts

Again I ask! See you what?
See the self, see who you are
Open the doors of world inside
To see the what really exist outside

Let the Rain Fall…

Let the rain drops touch my face
I crave to see from where they come

Purest and kindest in the nature
Let them seep deep in my heart
Dousing the flames of jealousy
Bringing back the peace of soul

Let the rain fall! Let the rain fall!
Let it kiss the leaves of the garden
Let it wine the day in it’s melos
Let it trance me to become amnesiac
Let me live this moment with the drops
Let the rain touch my soul

I wish to be petals of a flower
Welcoming the rain to travel the curl
Dropping it delicately down on soil
To exude deep beyong the roots
Laving the counciousness to be pristine
Let the rain fall! Let the rain fall!

How can the world accept this tyranny?

When my imaginations can’t tolerate the thoughts I am in
I enter the white pages with the ink in my heart
I start writing the randomness boiling in my body
Not sure of the words, whether framed right or wrong

My land is burning far from me but you can see the flames in my eyes
I only know, I am from Kashmir and I am a Kashmiri

Victim of pain! Victim of suppression!
Victim of bullets! Victim of pellets!
Victim of war! Victim of destruction!

O, mothers out there!
Can’t you feel the pain of mothers of my land
They have their hearts burried in the grave
They have their eyes flooded in tears
How can the world say me, don’t speak?
How can anyone compromise the counciousness?
How can my imaginations tolerate the thoughts I am in?
How can the world accept this tyranny?