Ubaid Bukhari I O Ithaca, O Kashmir “In Shalimar I sit and fill goblets of wine And scan the Earth, waiting for him” – Habba Khatoon From the shores of the Delhi Sultanate Come sailing against Poseidon’s curse, For the Himalaya – a basalt sea in stasis rolls wave after … Read more →
The Colors Of Hope
Hope, I have often suspected, is a rather poor student of art. It refuses to settle upon a single colour. Ask ten people what shade hope wears, and you will receive ten different answers—gold like the first rays of dawn, emerald like monsoon leaves, blue like an untroubled sky, or … Read more →
Night Dies
Farkhanda Night dies. I wish to write something for this beautiful night Scary and serene… Night… Wrapping the untold stories of people, while dying inside for the warmth of sunshine… How ironic! Never can anyone ever wish for their own death, but night dies when the sun rises. From this … Read more →