Syed Mustafa Ahmed

Life was so sweet told by the people;
But I was made to eat the dirty apple.
It was the shocking incident of all the times;
No cover wasn’t available even a maple.
I was born in winter on the cold road;
And I wasnot allowed to approach the board.
The harshness was really visible in this world;
When I never tried try to look for a hoard.
Humanity is trying to hide its shape;
Overall,we are on the false world map.
No need to teach us morality more;
Because here the norms are acting like a tap.
How could I find the true persons?
Because all are lost in very bad decisions.
The functionary of our lives is unique;
What is the value of living,when we are forced to go for the guns.
Jammu and Kashmir isn’t reality anymore.
Because what to expect , when We are forced to wander from door to door.
He,who,is playing the true game here;
Its throat becomes totally and surely sore.
Let us live our life for a while.
Then, we will be found in a preserved file.
I am no more alive what to do if alive;
Because the custodians of this orchard bring everyday strife.
I should for my safety have kept a ferocious knife;
And I am ashamed that my mother was a wife.
Why my mother married and set dreams only to break?
My mother is the one of the most foolish persons who knows that I would be kept in a sack.
Here, women are forced to change the track;
Moreover,in this orchard of paradise ,life is too hard a nut to crack.
The season of Spring has come and I am under a mound of land;
And I am intolerable with a different kind of sand.
I wished to follow and help my mother with my feeble hand;
But our girls have lost discipline and are playing the false band.
I was the guest of some days and so I left early;
Oh!I didn’t have any sign on my head not to talk of hair if curly.
My siblings are nowhere and may live their life fully;
Because in order to live in this country ,you should have the skin of wholly .
Here, women are made to work like a coolie;
And the burden of this land is the attribute of a folly.
My dolls are left unplayed and no one is ready to play them;
Because it takes a lot of time to know about a gem.
In this part of the world,in a bright light ,there is a ferocious dim;
And with each passing day,the situation is going to be grim.
I hate the roads of this valley and call them bloody thirsty roads;
Because the dirtyness has made special inroads.
Nothing is done and our custodians are looking for the false hoards;
And our throats are cut why to leave our vocal chords.


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