Lofty Pine

Lofty Pine…

A lofty pine was I that sprout from the ground,

Spelling wide and holding pride all around,
I didnít see my ground, from whether were my roots bound,
But only the gentle breeze that sang through my green hairy mound.

And those who chanced to call out to me.
I would never listen but there was that  ‘I’ inside of me,
The time went by and then summer came to a cold end,
The chill was there and no more spring round the bend.

My sap went suddenly short and so dry.
And my boughs shedding green with no tears or cry,
O’ Lord what was it I had done,
Why this as I had only just begun!

An old owl suddenly spoke from the hole in my bosom frill
It was as if he had been sent to make his chore like a drill,
“Who ever comes hither will eventually leave for thither

This is the way of things, though few eventually do remember.”
All of a sudden the fog was clear from my dull interior,
And now every thing was so crystal clear,
Then the wind came and I no more did face it like before,
But bowed deep that my boughs brushed its noble decor.

Now it is no more thou and I as before,
But there is more love and more than there was before,
All around I see only one and One that could be,
No more I and no more thou but only One to be.


This Fire

This fire you lit inside of me,my dear,
It burns my body in every fibre
No flame nor smoke from anywhere,
But tingling bells from its pure pyre,
Are soothing medicine to my utmost desire,
They herald of your graceful attire,
And take me through my wait for my dear,
And when one is lost into another
All merge to be one infinite sphere,
It is thus and has been for ever,
Only wise and knowing been there.


My sleep is no sweet slumber

but I am awake with fire inside

Don’t be fooled by my shell of timber

Inside soft waxy myself does reside

Though some may think it to be a riddle,

Others lonesome foolish words,

Those who play such a fiddle,

Know the truth in such reeds.


I Will Survive…A Kashmiri’s Song Against His Oppressor

You may curb my voice against your tyrant crown

And beat me blue or blood brown

You may strike my body down

And tear it into shreds & yet not frown

I ‘ve survived many such strokes by cruel crown

I will survive ..I’ve survived…I always will survive.


What ever act you may pass on myself,

or take the job from my poor self

or may play with my family like cruel elf

Yet my resolve is like pillars of resilient cliff

Over looking your treacherous weak self..

I will survive …I will survive.


My poor brethren and my poor kids

Made to shut their eyes and shouting lips

By your pellets and by draconian acts

And they shed their innocence like blooming tulips

Yet my resolve never weakened by your dichotomous strife…

I will survive …I will survive.


How many of my children will you mime and kill

How many of my brothers you will throw over the mill

How many of my sisters you will rape and kill

How many of my mothers you will send over the frenzied hill

It will never change my self and my inner will..

I will survive …I will survive.


Many a times you have tried and often lied,

To buy my self and my self respect, and I sighed

It hasn’t changed my resolve a bit, You lied

and cheated myself and my countrymen ready to fight.

Yet you failed and I stand my own-self & my own hight.

I will survive …I survive.


You razed my land & looted my stand

You plundered my Valley just like lightning wand,

How can I forget all your boogymen & band

Who ate up thousands of men without leaving a trace at hand,

I can not forgive nor forget this cruel strand..

I will survive …I survive.


My children who can not see,

Their sight & brothers taken by your killing spree,

Their mothers wailing a silent song,

They can not forget the loss that you gave them all along

Their blossoms enduring every pain all along.

I will survive ..I will survive.


I pray for your tyranny to end,

Of course the future is round the bend,

Bright and hopeful like morning Sun,

From my ashes will arise

The sword that will strike you down.

I will survive .. I will survive..I always have.

While Kashmir Gently Weeps..!!

My meadows, mountains, and my rivers and all
Weep silently over the  slain children this fall,
Those young buds who sleep in my bosom again,
Their pious blood nourishing their mother again.

How many of my children will miss the golden Sun
As it touches the Harmukh”s  proud crown,
Their unseeing orbs telling a different tale
Their mother silently crying a silent wail.

Those silent Jaffers and treacherous Qasims,
Will see their doom as sure as hell..
And  when their times comes as it will
Even my bosom will refuse their last morsel.

I gently weep over my slain children
Who went down for liberty and freedom,
The alien on the land will have to leave
I wait for the day as sure as I believe.

O’ Allah what more I have yet to endure
How many more I am yet to nurture
The tyrant is playing his bloody games
Brewing larceny and deception in his veins.

Be ONE my children of The Vale
As only then the enemy will fail
Strike him down like tornedo gale
End his rule from my bosom dale.

(BA) 05-08-2016


There are flowers in my garden,

They are beauty par beauty,

Every morn I touch their silken lips,

Every eve I smell their adorable tips

I know they never sleep nor slumber,

For they are here to nuture the Nature,

They see things none can tell,

Yet they never do swell,

In their bloom they tell a tale,

That every gardener knows under his veil,

Their simple beauty tells us all,

Be with the One who creates this all

It is His way of showing his nature

It is all the jubilation,

No I, no we, but all His celeberation.


2015 in review

The stats helper monkeys prepared a 2015 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 200 times in 2015. If it were a cable car, it would take about 3 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

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