Quotes about kashmir, page 2
Sonnet: Kargil War-song
March Ye forward, O Indian sepoy!
’Tis wartime again on land, sea and sky;
Our foes occupy the Kargil hills O boy!
And mountains and vales, where war-planes can’t fly.
March Ye forward, O Indian soldier!
The north-west sky is filled with smoke and fire;
Kashmir’s vale’s at stake, so is the frontier;
The enemy has the vantage, not attire.
March Ye forward, O Indian jawan;
Ye flush out the intruders everyone;
Climb the mountains by night and strike by dawn;
Give thy precious life to silence their gun.
March Ye forward, March Ye forward, nev’r stop;
Hoist the Indian tricolor Kargil-top!
poem by John Celes
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Be The First
Be the first to think and be the first to teach,
For my grandchildren are living in 'Efia Nkwanta';
Be the first to shine and be the first to save,
For i have saved my cash in Kashmir;
Be the first to sketch and be the first to speculate,
For you always need the weather with you;
Be the first to spring and be the first to sacrifice,
For guilt is the devouring grave that covers many;
Be the first to seek and be the first to spice,
For everything in life has its own time and purpose;
And now feel it in your fingers and in your toes!
For an honourable love will call at your door for you to show your uprightness.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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A Flower To Auroville Mother-58
Kasithumbai, Balsam
(Garden balsam, Spotted snapweed,
Impatiens balsamina)
Impatient you..yes, forsaken yourself
Long back from my garden to far off
Impatient me..yes, searching for long
Balsamina, you back in garden to throng
You've gone far and farther variously
A confusion of names extravagantly
Impatiens invariably but to me else
Kasithumbai, unforgettable in chimes
Single and double, cute and elegant
Blossoms with leaves lancelike
Fallen seeds in cycles to sprout
Kashmir to Cape comorin pooja alike
Now should you comprehend and return
[...] Read more
poem by Indira Renganathan
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A Marvel against Odds!
Cold winter season depicts snow everywhere;
Himalayan mountains, Kashmir valley, Shimla
Even in summer are a resort to see snow ever!
Keeping coal fire close to body covered by blanket
Poor people withstand chill weather there ever!
Even in such severe weather condition people live!
Glaring white of snow everywhere makes eyes
Close or have a sun-glass to see out all day long
And people mind routine regularly without fail!
The thrill of skating on ice really makes joyful,
Keeps health in tip top condition to pull on well
And makes worst weather too best by play ever!
Making good of a bad bargain is an art man knows;
Deserts or snow hills, he marvels millions of years!
poem by Ramesh T A
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The fate line of India
Poverty is the fate line of India.
It runs all along from the Cape Comarine
Through Deccan Plateau and the Ganges Plain
Till Kashmir valleys and the Himalayas.
So fertile has been this fate line for long,
It has been the base for the Lord Buddha, Mahavir and Sankara to take births.
By this, M.K. Gandhi turned Mahatma.
Rulers would surrender the border line
But not the fate line, which is their life line.
The kingpins aided by the world outside,
Repair it and maintain it and use it.
Poverty is the fate line of India.
It has been the pet of the invaders,
Rulers, religions and the immigrants.
It must be there to make many sages.
06.03.2012
[In palm history, fate line determines the destiny of the individual]
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Deadlock
Mother! Tell me what is behind those doors
Late father averred there is a treasure
A microcosm of whole world’s splendour
An extravagent elegence of nature’s allure
But warned me not to open the doors
Unless and untill I am doubly sure
Mother wept and said, “It is a deadlock
By blunders of your forefathers; did choke”
Mother tell me what is behind those doors
I hear deadly thunders, shrieks and shouts
And plangent whimpers of unseen spirits
I smell something noisome and nausiating
As if coming from a mass burning of pyres
Whenever I look at those queer doors
My heart hammers with unknown terror
Why mother? Why? Tell me! Why?
What is behind those doors?
[...] Read more
poem by Sathya Narayana
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Something in common
An Indian soldier in Kashmir or
An American soldier in Iraq,
They all face the same reality:
Death, every moment…
Imagine the unbearable stress
Which they share in distress
A sniper bullet, a car bomb
Or a suicide bomber….
Why God? Why did you
Create so many boundaries
Around the globe?
If you go for a silent walk
Through the their minds,
What all will be seen:
Lonely parents, wives, children
Living with immense tension…
How can they support their families
With meager salaries,
Government offer?
[...] Read more
poem by Premji Premji
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In Water
You’re fraught with words, better go sit in water;
For they swell with meaning and glow more in water.
Look for the heart in the chest and roast it on embers
Look for the blood in the liver and drink it in water.
Tomorrow Kashmir will stretch in the sun like a desert,
The day after Ladakh and Leh will float in water.
Under the hollow banks frightened waves take refuge;
Lord Jaldev is born with fire in water.
At mid day, even the sun gets soaked in sweat;
At the end, even the moon catches fire in water.
Even in excitement, sometimes, people set towns on fire;
Even for fun, sometimes, people pour poison in water.
The lost cow is looking for the elevensome, would someone tell her?
Five drowned in dry land, six are aflame in water.
[...] Read more
poem by Amin Kamil
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En Route
Today, the 8.10 local from Badlapur
Solved the mystery of the unwhistling pressure cooker
Where in the knit there were two purls
And three dropped stitches.
Why the maid ran away with the watchman
And how the boss said ‘good morning'
To the giggly bank clerk.
Missing the 8.10 is like missing your period.
Honeymoons are a bunch of photographs
With the husband's arm around the wife's shoulder
And nostalgia for other women.
Honeymoons are Ooty, Kashmir and Kodaikanal
Where the idea of a stranger making love to you
Is something to get used to because he is the husband.
Today the 8.10 had a panty seller
Who sold pink panties for Rs.30 a pair
And screamed that pink was a colour
Husbands liked as a rule but never said so.
Today the 8.10 had women with
Thinly threaded eyebrows
[...] Read more
poem by Shalini Rao
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That Was My House
(I had spent my childhood in Kashmir/India.)
Once upon a time
that house
housed my home
narrow lanes led to outside roads
which I used to roam.
Once upon a time
that house
woke up with temple bells
loud prayers stirred the souls
with blowing of conch shells.
Once upon a time
that house
had an open window
cool breeze refreshed me
with the chirrup of a sparrow.
[...] Read more
poem by Tribhawan Kaul
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