This Winter

This Winter I yearn for snow
for disarray snowman
to witness the agony,
for icicles to trickle gently
the heavenly soup
and drown my aged thirst,
for snow coated clothesline
to be the footbridge for birds.

This winter I dream of snow
of opaque white maples
to trade their auburn with alabaster
and to spell the rain of snow crumbs.
Of the bullion sun
to splatter its golden grime
on the snow crowned Mountains and roofs,
of sundown’s
to serve white nights
and the tales of unbridled slumber.

This winter I plead snow
to swathe the scarlet Jhelum
and sponge down its blood smudged shore.
To hide the crimson firmament
in the shroud of clouds,
to conceal the perished graves
to pray for demised ones
and bring soothe to living corpses.

This winter I witness the Jhelum
flowing in the opposite trend
falling and craving for snow to come and raise it.
I witness mountains and maples
shrieking and longing for snow as well
surrendering before sun and the sheen it serves.
I witness birds down in the dumps
moping around,
from tree to tree, from bough to bough.
I witness my heart and eyes from the attic
mourning in a deep grievance,
making yen of watching the world to turn into heaven.
I witness my pen bleeding and urging snow anew
through silent words and emotions
oh! Snow fall and attire,
my valley is naked.

Love, Religion and Family

He threw his marker pen at him which exactly hit at his Adam’s apple when he caught him inattentive and swaying his head from north to south and south to north while facing the east of classroom. Tutor: What are you doing Saif?
Saif: hesitantly, na… nothing sir, when he found that every student even all girls just two rows ahead of him are casting stern backward glances at him, his face turned scarlet in a flash
Tutor: why are you moving your head then?
Saif: Trying to assemble words in his mind. Lost in meditation – Lie needs rehearsal.
And he replied; while passing on the marker pen to his mate sitting ahead of him. – Just to get a clear view of board sir;

Saif [escorted by science stream and dispassionate in Math’s though his focus lies on Literature] was in fact struggling to land his soft gaze at a girl’s left rosy-cheek he had fallen head-over-heels for.

Nowreen, a medium stature, whitish girl with a round winsome face and a heart striking dimpled smile was a Sikh girl before she fell in love with Saif –  in a day five times Nimaz offering boy.
You are affectionate, pious, my would-be better-half and above all you have depicted me a path leading to heaven, this answer she often came up with whenever he had asked her the reason behind such an intense love for him?
Sehar was her new name drawn by her Saif – Because it was his favorite among female names.

Saif who belongs to a middle class family in Baramulla district is confined in the countless parapet of expectations but he was indeed full of spirits and joy since he had done something best in view of his Almighty and his beloved Prophet Mohammad s.a.w – he had turned Sehar’s religious creed and because of the thought in dreams he frequently find himself enjoying the mere company of Sehar [as if he had said Almighty not to send any HOOR for him because he is with his HOOR] resting on the coverlets of snow on the verge of milky creek, drinking beverages, in the once garden of Adam and Eve eating the fruits of forbidden tree. And Sehar instead of living a luxurious life is good-at-heart girl. But she was afraid lest her family snuff her out, particularly by her own grandfather (who loves her most) – a patriarch in nearby Gurduwara, in case they came to know about her embracing the religion Islam. Sehar would lock her room and recite the Quran – she cautiously kept concealed in the inner most packet of her college bag. In every prostration she would plead to Allah to make Saif her other-half. In a state of trepidation she had to frequently visit her neighborhood friend Fatima’s home so she could make a recitation of Quran in front of her and offer ZUHAR and ASAR nimaz right next to Fatima and Fatima would point out her mistakes and encourages her, most significantly she would cuddle her on narrating the whole verse in the appropriate manner.

Saif had taught her Quran narration, ablutions, Nimaz as well as other fundamentals of Islam besides making her memorize all six kalimah plus fifteen surah excluding surah yaseen (heart of Quran) and surah Ar-Rehman. Truly Fatima also did her best in teaching and proper pronunciation of her Quran.

One morning of September, night has surrendered and sun had come out from behind the dark mountains with a bright sheen, and prickly rays that would make an acute angle of reflection when striking any luminous body, birds had left for chow singing love chorus while flying to far-off places and disappeared so as the acoustics of their chorus. Farah – [ Saif’s younger sister stepped onto the threshold of this dusty world right after two years the entry of Saif and a person in family he loves the most and had shared everything with her related to Sehar] came in and took the quilt off his brother without letting him know because it was quarter to nine, so late according to his daily routine, and Saif with agar eyes, stretched his body and telling Farah to let him sleep for a while.
Biaya No, you’ve already waken up so late today. Get up Papa was looking for you Farah replied, while removing the curtains off the window panes and the shower of golden rays landed inside the room.
For what? Saif replied.
You have to come with me;
Er………. With you!
Yes, I have to do some Eid-shopping.
Saif still leaning on bed,
Please Baiya get up now, see your room – error written papers lying allover on the floor, I have to see if Mummy needs any help in the kitchen too.
He didn’t tell her that he was wide awoke writing his story – Love Religion and Family. He didn’t tell her that he also mentioned her in it.
When Saif was on the verge of leaving the room for ablution, his cell-phone on the nightstand played a nice tune.
Your Butterfly is calling you Baiya. Farah spoke along with a mouth-closed smile.
He has named her by a sobriquet “BUTTERFLY” in his phone book.
Saif made a call in which a second-hand of a clock would have hardly strolled a journey of semi-circle. Farah was behaving like a statue of liberty. He dropped his cell on the bed and left for bathroom.
Baiya is everything fine? Why did Sehar DI ping you so early today?
It’s not early this time Farah, it’s too late you just told me. Didn’t you?
By the way; Your Sehar Di and I had decided to keep a rendezvous and now you have come up with your shopping drama.
We can have that tomorrow; you should go and meet your butterfly.
 You brutes, I love you.
I love you too Baiya.

Crispy autumn was serving the breeze with a scent of woods and flowers mingled in it. Nearby waterfall and birds were producing finest tunes in the background and sun was showering its beams of golden dust chains. At the top of a nearby foothill [that in fact separates their villages] they were leaning against the maple tree and Saif was recalling her all the kalimah’s and surah; she had already memorized. On inspecting that Sehar is on the road to recovery, he gave her a slight embrace and shoots a loud kiss on her temple.
Saifu, I am so scared of getting killed by my own family. While hiding her head in his bosom, they aren’t going to accept SEHAR, they only want NOWREEN, and they love Nowreen not Sehar. Isn’t my love enough for you? Saif retorts
Yes of course it is…. You are everything I could ever have. But I want to see a bride of yours in me, I want to spend my life with you, I want to see our children’s growing. I want to see you right next to me in every situation, holding my hand and clasping and kissing my brow in times of melancholy. I don’t want to be with you just for a wee time. I don’t want this meeting to be the last one. I am not afraid of death Saifu, I am afraid of losing you. I am terrified of the word “separation”. Your absence will make me suffer more than the death.
Saif you know what truth means for me? And how I see the lie?
For me the truth is you; your love; your presence and the rest of everything is lie.
Saif cupped his hands around her face and plant a kiss on the tip of her nose. Do you know why I picked a name SEHAR for you?........... It means SUBHA a bright dawn when nobody dares to cease the finite beams of sun to shower upon the world, when stars and moon who invites every dark night disappears and sleeps in the slumber and when birds bring a new song to the world and world comes to life in all its glory. Tell them you aren’t going to change your mind, in fact invite them towards Islam and narrate them its fundamentals I have taught you, if they’ll not accept you and if they’ll kill you, don’t afraid, don’t lose your heart, trust Allah; Allah will reward you a martyrdom. You’ll be named as MARTYR. A beautiful tag every Muslim wants to earn, but only fortunate lot manage to get. Sehar you know tomorrow a martyr will tell Allah to bring him/her back to life, and let him/her die again as a martyr.  And Allah say’s that martyr’s bodies will remain intact because I will feed their souls with the heavenly fruits. So my love, why are afraid about, about our separate? Don’t be; we will meet up there in the heavens. Look at these waterfalls, these birds and these beautiful green pastures and mountains. They are dazzling with perfect splendor. Aren’t they?
Yes they are, because they are free…. Birds free to fly, waters free to fall and mountains free to rise. Saifu, I want to build a fixed abode here for us after our matrimony, see we would be first to meet the gold-silver sun beams and near to stars and moon during hours of darkness. I want these mountains to guard us and these birds I want them to sing for us. They embrace and attired a lip-zipped smile.
Soon after their graduation results were announced, Saif applied for Masters in Literature at JAMIA MILLIA ISLAMIA central university of New Delhi. Sehar hardly wanted now anything for her, all she wanted to get married and learn Islam, but Saif forced her to pursue further studies. While Sehar applied for Master in Physics at Kashmir University. Luckily both made it in their respective subjects.

Saif went to Delhi and Sehar remained here half-hearted, reading Quran slyly and his poetry that he wrote for her – grinning and giggling and reading again, but now she didn’t have to worry about being caught while offering nimaz, as she could offer it comfortably at girls hostel, Fatima was also with her in Physics block. They shared room with another girl Meher – a tall lean girl, with brownish tresses hails from Srinagar.

On some weekend when Sehar at her home, in her brunch drinking coffee from balcony of her room lost in natures eye-catching beauty, thinking about Saif, coiling and uncoiling her scarf at edge, meantime her mother crossed the threshold of her room and unzipped her bag of cloths that had to be unavoidably washed. Lost in obsession, she didn’t sense her mother’s coming and her apparently all off a sudden, as her eardrums felt a harsh yell of her mother, she lost her control and the goblet she was drinking coffee from fell down and shattered in pieces. In an attempt to regain her lost composure she cast a look at her mother only to find the Holy Quran in her left hand.
What is this Nowreen? Her mother in a high-pitched voice!
Her heart made a rush of beats inside her bosom. Her shivering legs started to make a voyage of yards towards her mother. Her lips start to mutter tremblingly.
Mu,,,Mum,,,,Mumma! Please don’t call me Nowreen.
What the hell are you talking? Mother shrieked again,
My name is Sehar and I have changed the story of my palms, I don’t belong to your religion anymore, I am a Muslim Mumma, I am a Muslim!
Without thinking for a moment, her mother slapped her left cheek noisily. Tears began to flow and Sehar finally assembled courage inside and spoke; Mumma, Islam is a perfect and noble religion, there is nobody else but Allah we have to drop our heads in prostration for. We have come in the world to praise him, accept his instructions, to love his last messenger Prophet Mohammad s.a.w and to spread his religion far and wide. Mumma please accept the Islam; tell Papa, Dadu and others to accept it. Instead of letting her speak further her mother started to thrash her ruthlessly with a steel rod her papa had brought for her room to hang curtains between balcony and her room on. Her mother snatched her phone and pushed her on bed and locked the room. Sehar feeling terrified, afraid, broken and helpless wishing her Saif would be here right next to her. After a short while her parents and Grandfather all suddenly entered her room and locked it inside and the door of balcony too.
We can’t let you be a Muslim, you have to return to your religion – Sikhism, we are your family, this is your religion, I love you Nowreen my daughter, did you forget my love and the chocolates and teddies I used to bring for you? Did you forget all those lullabies I used to sing before your going to the bed?  His grandfather said.
I love you too Dadu, i.e. why I am asking you to accept Islam, I want to see you in heaven. And I am not going to change my mind; I am not going to accept any other religion. I am a Muslim, I’ll live as a Muslim, and I’ll die as a Muslim. The unleashing layers of rage started to burnish on his grandfather’s brow. He brought out a cane of kerosene oil that he had concealed behind his back.
So you are not going to accept me.
NO, Sehar replied.
He uncorked the cane and asked again
Sehar a headstrong girl replied with the same answer.
 Going past the bounds of heartlessness he splashed the oil over her, over the base, over her bed and the couch.
Get out of the room he hurled to his son and his daughter-in-law.
They left without uttering any word back. Her mother with teary eyes was eavesdropping at the door, bawling, giving non-stop thumps on the door.
For next ten minutes the sound her parents perceived were her screams only and a Kalimah she mumbles in her last breaths.
Next day her family publicized her death was fortuitous.
At the night of the next day, Saif was trying to ping her but it was on switched off mode.
With the arrival of dawn he again tried but operator came up with the same response.
Fortunately a thought crossed his mind that Sehar once saved the number of Fatima in his cell phone just for safety measures.
He moved the cursor down and down and down in the valley of numbers.
He found it – Fatima –
He dialed…. Ring… Ring… Ring….
Hello, a numb female voice appeared on the other side.
Hello, Fatima there?
Yes; I am Fatima.
I am Saif.
Fatima burst into peals of cry.
Hey what happened? Are you fine?
And where is Sehar? Her phone is off.
She is DEAD Saif – she is DEAD.
 They killed her – they burned her and announced her dead as a case of accident nature.
Saif turned deaf and frozen; he was lying bolt upright on the couch in his room with his chum Huzaif, surge of tears made a rush along his cheeks, his phone fell down and went into divisions from his hand. Saif fell unconscious. Huzaif fell in the state of chaos; he cupped his head in his hands.
Hey Saif, giving slight slaps on his face.
Hey! What happened… tell me.
Saif! Saif!
Huzaif’s figure gradually vanished from his retina.
Huzaif spattered the water over his face. After a quarter past minute, Saif slowly unlock his lids, Image of his friend start to come into view. Tears dangling on the curvature of his lids,
Huzaif again; will you tell me now what happened to you?
Saif Lost in meditation was shattered, his hopes and dreams were wrecked, his world broken.
Saifff! Huzaif hurled.
Saif replied, while the tears dangling fell down.
Mountains are calling me. I have to go.


- FICTION -

After Tomorrow

After Tomorrow
I may not see you,
your dazzling, gorgeous face
your priceless smile
I am ready to die for
your presence,
I cherish the most.
Your ogles
beautiful thing happend to me
and after tomorrow
I may not see you
or else
I may not see me.

After Tomorrow
I may not be amid you
and I'll miss you - Achingly
let me scribble it
let me speak my heart out.
After tomorw,
distances'll fall
and
each second'll turn into a century
every dawn'll bring poignant sheen
days'll be down in the dumps
and dusks'll bring insomniac nights.

After tomorrow
you may never hear my name
never you hear my poetry
I WRITE FOR YOU.
but remember,
i'll never halt my pen
to bleed in your gratitude
I'll never cease my heart,
from loving you-unconditinally
I can never stop my mind
from your reverie.
And I may never restrain my eyes 
for searching you everywhere.
Remember
I'll love you
till - I'm above the earth
and the day is I'll mourn
when I breath beneath it.

After tomorow
I'll love you even more
I'll make odes
in your tribute
without thinking about
metaphors and similes
without rhymes and limits.


After tomorrow
I'll look for you
behind my back
in my room,
listening to my poems
(smiling, raising you eyebrows in reply)
I'll search you
in my books
in Agha's splendid poetry
and when
Rumi's ravishing verses
dance in the silent chords of harp.
And in the whole obsession
I'll forget to search you In ME.

Nature Wants Us To Introspect

Since the flood fury, a drizzle send shivers down the spine of Kashmiris. Whether it is the result of our deeds or “test by God”, in both the cases we aren’t ready to change ourselves. The sad part is that we don’t even bother to think whether we should mend our ways or not. The rain, which frequently enriches the beauty of meadows, forests and fields, has come with devastation to the disturbing limits of unattractiveness.

A well known Kashmiri proverb goes “huen’ lot tra’yaak khumbs, tat’ ti dra’aaw huen’ lot uy “ – which means bent tail of a dog was kept under the soil, but it couldn’t get rid of its curviness. I mean from the preceding catastrophe in the form of earthquake of 2005 it is clear that we did not learn any lesson and if we fail to learn anything now then above mentioned saying suits us better.

Think it this way. When everybody was shouting pick up and run away with whatever you can, look for a safe shelter wherever possible, when everybody was beating his/her bosom and was enchanting the holy verses of Quran and repenting for his/her hidden and apparent sins, and when some others were shrieking that Jhelum has breached its borders; nature above there must have mumbled, ‘you ruined and wasted my beautiful resources, now face my wrath’.

“Poz chu toth” – truth is bitter and the reality is that Jhelum was not breaching its banks but it wanted to reclaim its original limits; looking for what once was its own and what people had usurped now to build beautiful concrete. Of course in the search of its limits, Jhelum destroyed whatever came to halt its march – mostly the illegal constructions along the threshold of Jhelum. It is a clear indication that nature unleashes its rage not at all by itself but when it is compelled to do so by the greed of a man.

Yot tam poz pazi, tot’tam alam dazi – “until the truth is revealed, the world would have burnt to ashes. The recent catastrophe in the valley undeniably exposed the undue interference of humans in nature, which otherwise must be allowed to take its own course. Whether it was because of heavy rainfall or anything else, if we had paved way for overflowing Jhelum waters to ease itself, we could have saved ourselves. Now even if we are ready to greet its pact but it would be like “shaal tchlit bath’n lor’I” – To beat hedges after the jackal has run away.

William Ruckelshaus once said: “Nature provides us a free lunch but only if we control our appetites.” Alas, for our materialistic lust we have destroyed it all!. We left it with no option but to destroy us. It merrily did. It rendered us helpless, so helpless that we didn’t even know where to run for. Doesn’t all that call for some introspection? Introspect, we must!


Aversion of this article was also published in print edition of daily Kashmir Reader on Thursday, 13 November 2014 http://kashmirreader.com/nature-wants-us-to-introspect-25512

" UnSung Emotions "

There is a word of love
which;
they narrate through eyes
in every profund silence
that reigns
and shines on them.

There is a world
where they meet
before the sun hit the mountains
where they exist
beyond a great margin
but beats together.

There comes a span
one after every round
that clock makes
when obscurity looms
on Box and dice.
Of night's woven darkness
where they have a tryst
when rest disappears
and sleeps in the slumber.

There comes a dawn
when they break
frozen and befallen serene
when they speak
and somethings go unsaid.

There is a land
where insanes reside
and call themselves Human.
where moon is blamed
when sun hides
where cloud bursts
but never bring rain.

where he beholds her
the reason for;
the heart his bosom embraces
where his world depopulates
when she remain unseen

and sun rains poignancy
and moon turns black.


Where they have build nest
of dreams; living together.
Of sapphire curtain
dangling on the pane.
Of crimson carpet beneath.

Where he would fondle her
and make odes
in her love and tribute
where his eyes stick
to the way;
he still waits there
They cherished last where.

~ Obsession ~

When my gaze land
on her silky cheeks,
my heart throbes hastly
my blood in vains rush
as it was stopped for years.


Things appear in a beautiful attire ...
My sun mounts in the west
waters flow in the opposite trend
intoxicated twilight sings 'Yeh shaam mastani, madhosh kiya jaiye'
when dawn starts with 'Pyar dewana hota hai mastana hota hai'


In every slumber,
I hark her wrabbled voice
sweeter than any music of lyre
In solitude I saw her like apparition
I felt her scent mingled and
dancing in the breeze
In dream I saw her as my bride
in a finest white garb
with a crown of flowers.


In the garden of Adam and Eve
we ate the fruits of restricted plant
we rest in the moonlit dusk
and the golden rays of moon
shines and busses on her neck.
And her gem like eyes led me
to the doors of heaven.

All I want to meet her
for an instant,
I want to let her know
Vis-a-vis,
that I Love You
that I Live You
that I Dream You- honestly saying

I Love You
not just the three words are they
but the verse
I chant and sing
in my every breath.


I Live You,
A tinge of sensation - I feel
when THY soul mongles with mine.
Vanish this fathomless silence - beloved
and let this world shrink
Under the burning sun
In the hovering moon
In our Love, and the life
I Live, In you
I Live for you.

I dream you
is the world
where the two of us exist.
Where silence sings
the chorus of love
where winds dance unconsciously
after your enthraling voices
where roses lend the fragrance
from the petals of your crown.
I dream
where I spend sundown's
beneath your silken tresses
and sunrises
in your gorgeous lap.

Don't Fall In Love But Rise In Love

Regardless of the endeavors we go through, to procure what our desires urge us to pursue; It is too truthful a statement to be rebuffed that very few manage to achieve the ambitions they have set before them. Hence, we are left with no option but to accept what destiny has already framed for us. Without dwelling further on the helplessness we are overpowered by, before the strange case of Destiny etc, let me turn to the theme I have chosen for today's write up. Yes -" Don't fall; rather rise in Love". Facing the harsh reality, it is quite reasonable to say that your ride can't always turn out to be smooth when you fall in love. It is certain, for a time being, your life may appear to be full of excitements, dramas and happiness. Everything else seems running unhindered. Even its pain itself take the form of cure like, glitterati Leo Dicaprio (Jack) felt after falling in love with Kate Winslett (Rose) in TITANIC . This merriment and delight can last long but all you have to do is to keep rising in love instead of falling in it.

In the current times, being in relationship is not a new thing but as common as anything. For a time being, getting crazy about someone seems nice to such an extent that even the person (himself/herself) hardly wishes to get rid of it but once you lose your prestige, then and only you become conscious to the cost of being in relationship. When the ecstatic moments take no time to turn into wails and dreadful ones and very soon this agitation of nerves lets you to realize that what you were portraying the dream was only an illusion in real life. The euphoria fades away and you are faced with sufferings along with a great deal of distress and chaos. In my views; one should not get involved in relationships preposterously. "Dribs-and-Drabs are the people who respect the emotions of others while as rest of the lads just consider Love as a convenient route to pass the time– which is highly disgusting and condemnable.

Quite often we “Bend our Ears” on this topic and come up with a bulk of views on it. Love has no set answer for it. Different minds deliver different judgments about love and it mainly depends upon the person how they treat and get treated by it. Poets and authors have tried to define the statement of love for centuries and many of us know intuitively that love is major purpose for living- the connection which is inherent in all that we do and sans love we cannot survive as a species but love is a complex matter and if it could be elaborated logically, all the relationships would get their goals and all the agonies it cause will vanish away.

A widespread perception goes: “Love is blind” or “futile”. These are just some false ideas raised by losers in this field. But my conscience says love is force that can help you to expand your life and bring forth your innate potential with dynamic vitality but the condition is that you’ve to do it with the hearts purity, in a nice and fair way. A healthy relationship is one in which two people encourage and bring out good in each other. Hush-hush, if you tend to neglect your kindred while being in a relationship; if your partner becomes your only central focus; if you over shade everything else excepting it, you are surely going on a wrong track. And definitely will its negative influence affect your life - thus depriving you of the perfect happiness. Antoine de saint – Exupery, the author of the LITTLE PRINCE, once wrote, “Love is not two people gazing each other, but two people looking ahead together in the same direction.” By following these words, your relationship will last longer and that too in a cheerful manner. Simply, when both the partners share similar values, beliefs and respect their differences, there is a little possibility of discord. Safety lies in avoiding getting so love-struck as to attempt creating a world where only the two of them exist and succumbing to the view that love is the “be all and end all”.
In the end, let me admit that sans respect and trust neither will the relationship last long nor will two people be able to bring out the best in each other.So don't follow the literal meaning and fall in love - rise in love anyway, you and I keep rising.