Posted in Poetry

Revolution

Revolution says
Just a moment away
But you have to fight
For thousands of days

It is born in the hearts
Single voice, from where it starts
Sacrifice of days and blood
To turns slogans into flood

Some lives to see
Some dies before, with the hope
Revolution test the emotions
Revolution teaches patience

Pain and passion, love and hate
It gives life to the dead words
Martyrs and tears, beheld in souls
It destroys, it creates

Evil falls, good wins
It rules over the millions of hearts
Revolution takes the birth
Amongst the men of truth
The pages bear witness
Revolution creates greatness and greats

Posted in Poetry

Poem without A Poet

O poet!
You are known to play with the words
But, I am not the one
I write them as they are
I write tears as tears
I write pain as pain
I write them as they are

O poet!
Could you play with my words
And change their meaning
So that,
What I always saw in my Valley
Would remain hidden in my lines
Making them also a poem
But not written by a poet

Posted in Poetry

I Wish to Revisit…#Kashmir

I wish that one day
Sitting in the garden, looking at the ripened apples
I could also revisit these days
In the left memories
A tale inside worth to tell
How we lived in the Caged Kashmir?
When homes were made prisons
and the freedom of children was snatched
We all stood looking at each other’s faces
Witnessing the pain, grief, and anguish
In a moment of time
All became the same
Victims of destroyed identify
A prison worth seeing
The stories worth listening
All had a painful ending
Loss and loss only
The apple season became seasonless
As they appeared pale to the red-blooded eyes
Devoid of sleep
Devoid of dreams
Filled with unseen tears
O God, that fear!
What would happen in the days to come?
Would our existence cease to exist?
What would happen to our race?
What would happen to our homes and land?
Questions left for the destiny to answer
And we were left waiting for the freedom
Our rights became sole of the shoes
Humanity became the graveyard for deads
But we rose, we fought
We cried, we suffered
We lived, we died
We struggled all those days
In hope of rays of sunshine
Hope to prove that truths live the ages
Lies die with its creators

I wish that one day
Sitting in the garden, looking at the ripened apples
I could also revisit these days 


Posted in Poetry

Sleepless #Kashmir

O, sleep!
come and fall in love with the eyes
the aching heart
don’t allow them to run away
in the dream

I am complaining to this night
why are you bringing back my valley before my eyes?
it is lacerating my existence within
when I listen the voices of that prison
where tortured souls lie
where the sons die
and where my home lies

O, sleep!
tell this night to spare me
tomorrow, I have to again struggle against the same memories
let me go to visit my dream
to collect the tears
from the valley of silence
deep in me

Posted in Poetry

Let the Freedom Come

Left again
I and my lonlineness in the solitary room
With the door shut, expecting no one to knock
Walls also show no compassion, stand silent and cold

I can feel my silence
And the voice inside
I can feel the suffering
And the overwhelming helplessness
Unaddressed remain my tear to the outside world
Unfelt remain my emotions to the people

Let the earthquake happen
Let the walls fall
Let the storm come
Let the lonlineness blow away
Let the ceiling break apart
Let the sun melt the ice within

My words in me has only one meaning
Let the freedom come!

Posted in Poetry

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



Posted in Poetry

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?

Posted in Poetry

Where is the Blooded paradise, Kashmir?

Let my eyes flow with the rivers of Kashmir
I pray to be rested in the grave of her soil
The martyrs whose faces I never saw, and they left
Let me see my soul drenched in their blood


Let me see myself burning with the leaves in the autumn
Let me live in the silence of snow near the window
Let me cry in remembering our pain in front Of Allah
Let me pray for the prosperity of the forgotten valley


We are living in the horror behind the veil of beauty
The paths leading to the graveyards are more settled than others
A hope, one day we will win over the war but don’t know at what cost?
My home is easy to find, just inquire “where is the blooded paradise, Kashmir?”

Posted in Poetry

Imprisioned …# Kashmir

Even if I choose to remain quiet
My emotions ignites the voice within
I can’t help my hands to rest
They want to write the plight of my soul
Now, I don’t introduce my name to the people
I simply say them from where I belong
And I am alive by the grace of God


My conscious have become insomniac
It keeps rattling with the stories of my valley
I know, Kashmir is burning
I keep searching ashes in my dreams
But I find soil drenched in tears
My soul curses these tyrants and their tyranny
I break when I imagine a mother
Who tells her son to wake up from the sleep of death
she knows, tomorrow there would no sun for her son
Because these tyrants have slaughtered him to death


Stories of Autumn have faded deep in winter
Now we see seasons changing in a day
Either bloody or dry
Imprisioned inside the bricks of our own
Afraid to look out of the window
Because weak glass pans can’t save you
Only God can listen
To the imprisioned hearts inside imprisioned homes

Posted in Poetry

Voice Of Pain

Who would understand our pain?
The deadly silence is crucifying the heart
I stand in prayers, my eyes get wet
every sense is deep lost in an extreme shock
seeing faces around to whom I can’t express
has let my eyes down, to walk where I don’t belong

when it gets dark, the face of graves open
I stand looking with blood flowing
screams and separations all around
with some existing and some who existed
my sleep has evaporated from my eyes
my dream remain hollow and void

I know who I am
but unaware of who I am going to be
as I write I can’t stop crying in pain
just thinking do I have anything left
the smirk of the world around
has filled the air with devilish feel

O tyrants you will surely burn in hell
with all your might, and will yell
I will weep my tears, as I have faith
The winds of promise will shroud us soon
But our pain is the final nail
in your coffin