August was a very good month. There was a lot I learned from personal experience which I will imbibe in the journey to be a better human being. I also realized the importance of a healthy enviornment. Cutting ties with toxic people and places has been the greatest learning of August. On the writing front, or, writing-for-pleasure front, I wrote the following:
On her frail shoulders, the threads of Pashmina talk. Of a valley, of heaven, of a moonlit night. Demure, she froze amidst the discordant noise, Charred bodies around her, her flesh and blood died. On moonlit nights, hence she walks barefoot on the snow, Suffering within and out, I can listen, what her silence speaks out loud. Deranged, Demented, She drags her body around, Unaware, Listless, what she has lost can never be found. I call her, whenever she passes by me, I have been piling up sorrows as debris. Come! My child Let me hear your pain, Let me soothe your wounds, Let me jostle your soul, So you shed a tear. I know your pain, I have done all this myself, And I have been there. This poem narrates the sufferings of women who lost their families in Kashmir Valley. *Disclaimer - Title is inspired by Sonnet 30 of Shakespeare.
Beautiful words.
ReplyDeleteAmazing lines...
ReplyDeleteliked these ones the best..
समेट के रखा है खुद को इतने साल
बस एक बार बिखरना है तेरे गले लग के
Tumhaari baaton mein koi masiha basta hai..
ReplyDeleteHaseen labon se barasti shafa mein jeete hain!
- gulzar sahab’s but would dedicate this one to your writing:) .. new admirer
You have a midas touch
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
ReplyDelete