Friday, April 28, 2017

My son one day in england cooked something . It was really delicious with a beautiful flavour that i did not recognise but smelled familiar . After we finished dinner i asked him what spice he used . He said that he had used Hing . I said to him , in my narrowminded stupidity , " what ? We dont eat hing only kashmiri pandits eat it ". And he in his direct straight manner with a peculiar glint in his eye said " so you guys have divided the spices as well " ....... All i could do was feel ashamed and silly ...........

Sunday, September 28, 2014

The deluge

How can you write about something that so profoundly affects your life. It is like writing about something that hasn't happened yet or like something that has happened , but isn't understood . The blankness of emotion mustn't be misunderstood. It is like the deluge of muddy water has carried away all superficial emotions and just left a deep ache behind .
Is a flood natures way of cleansing you or punishing you ? I do not believe that nature knows punishment but it does know how to cleanse itself , and in cleansing itself it also teaches . What a great teacher nature is . It does not need words . It does not need books . This teacher teaches through floods , earthquakes ,rain and snow . It teaches through volcanoes, hurricanes, glacial meltdown and tsunamis. It expresses through forest fires and dwindling wildlife . It teaches through the harsh words of a disrupted ecosystem . It teaches through death and altered life . It teaches through mutation and creation .
It teaches through all the senses and addresses its teachings to the responsible and the irresponsible in equal measure . It does not discriminate in its knowledge and its expression . It is fair and evaluates fairly . In very simple terms it says ' I am nature ,and I am like the truth. I am a reflection of you and your actions and I cannot be denied '.............

Friday, July 19, 2013

A lesson of love ....

It all started with a hairy black caterpillar in my garden . This little creation of Allah swt was a bundle of joy . It was round, fat jet black chubby and so cute looking . It would play in the garden happily all day and Aamir , my son , would watch it playing around and shared the joy of life with this small creature , and developed a bond of friendship with this little one .
It was a friendship where nothing was spoken or expressed . It was a friendship where the joy of life was celebrated everyday among flowers and green grass and nothing that was material exchanged hands . The only thing that transpired was a form of love pure , simple and uncomplicated , and one of the parties probably did not even know the interest that it inspired .
The black caterpillar merrily had a free run of the garden and was the king of the patch that I called MY garden , which , i now realize ,was an illusion at the least . God knows how many more of HIS creatures were having fun on something that I had a delusion of calling my property . And this welcome visitor gave my son hours of innocent pleasure and I am not ashamed to say that I secretly took delight from its antics.
Well anyway day , my husband , who probably didn't know the emotional bond that Aamir had developed with the small thing , spotted it playing on a wire mat one day ,and asked the house help to pick it up and throw it outside the house ............and when Aamir returned from school and rushed out to look for his friend . When after searching for it everywhere he asked the house help  and his father . The answer made tears come to his eyes but he didn't say anything and held his sorrow to his heart and went looking for the caterpillar outside the house , but of course in vain .....
One day , My husbands friend came to visit us for a few days , on the third day Aamir , who was yet untainted by hypocrisy went straight to his father and said I am going ask bahadur to throw your friend out  ...... Well, his father ,who had for gotten the incident of the caterpiller asked Aamir why he would do that ....... and Aamirs reply was that " Papa you threw MY  friend out a few days back so now I am going to throw YOUR friend out .......

Saturday, February 9, 2013

Death of humanity

Every kashmiri killed ,
brings tears to human eye
and fills the lakes of misery
to drown the sword of the tyrant .....
every kashmiri killed ,
makes throb every human heart
to shatter the soil for earthquakes ,
to bury the sword of the tyrant .........
every kashmiri killed ,
makes speak the tongue of humans ,
to drive deep a stake of truth ,
into the soul of the heartless tyrant ......

Monday, December 17, 2012

Lament of the old basket seller
Why does this city
not recognise me anymore ,
the stones of the sidewalks
know me
and my step,
the birds ....
know my voice
and the seasons
time me  yet ,
but , you
who do not 
buy my baskets
anymore ....
do you not know me ?
or hear my cry ....
I make the same baskets
that I have been
for centuries .....
same , since always 
if I never changed
why did you ?