Dear friend, The days are getting longer as the sun learns to bridge the distance between itself and the Earth. The sunlight has its way of becoming warmer and there are no sunflowers in this place. I don’t see you waking up like your usual self if I’m being honest, your hair is dry like …
Tag Archives: Kashmir
A welcome song
Wherever it is that you are/The soft song of your exile/Is echoing in this country. Its loudness resounding/as the chiming bells of grass blades/slicing the rain for your voice. And the man toiling on end/ without no one to pay for/he described his pain like this:The moon eclipsing the sun/a scarring black shadow/that erases your …
the knocking is a serenade
At night; your men are armed to teeth/ the timbre of their boots outside my gates/ a proposal past. A river; the rock split into blood and /thorns seducing their way out /miserable gaps of solitude. The dogs; rising to the occasion/ pouring their vile hatred of you/ signalling your imminent arrival. The house; your …
Letter to Myself
Dear Friend, All deaths seem unfortunate, even the one’s that are well needed or that are unwilling to pass on. It may be needed if torment is all you ever felt or were kept from a liberty that you longed for so much, begged for. It is a disguise often told that some things are …
Log 14th July 2019
Kashmir has been uneventful as ever lately. The summer isn’t going to stay long and before it even began, it rained pretty often for the month of June. Every now and then there are subtle showers that intermingle with the sunlight, their presence concealed as they hit the baking hot surface of concrete, or soil. I …
Log March 31st— Sunday
Yesterdays’s sky was the most blue. It was a perfect Sunday. However, I had to leave to meet a friend, Faiz. I met him before I left for Delhi; there was never a right time to meet him after I came back. I have been going to college for three weeks now and I’m already …
June 21: A Log
It’s a warm summer evening lightly accompanied by a fading rain; I rather like the sound of rain tapping the tin roofs of our home and the dim light in my room. I have turned on my personal computer, it’s been a while since I used it and its gathered pile of dust is relatively …
Grief as a Constant
Grief is potential, it is a light headedness in your feet. Ergo, it’s spoiler. It’s a splinter in your finger: it is a craft to have: you should go ahead and sleep in a quiet grave. It’s a constant sorrow that’ll be your alter-ego for the life to come. It does not leave. It just …
27/03/2018: A Log
Today was special but I didn’t get a day off for it and in all secrecy, only one other person knows about why today every month is faultlessly special; liberty of going public is something we earn when we have the legs to stand up for it and until that day comes, nothing is going …
12/03/2018: A Log
It is supposedly a college day; however I find myself tucked away from sunlight, probably because the sun, while benign, feels deceptive and false here; while as the spring is approaching on its hooves rather soon. I’m home and I’m looking at the world through a wooden frame: a window and a room full of …