A glimmer of hope

A few days back, battling with the restlessness due to yet another possibility of floods back home in Kashmir, I stepped out and tried to divert myself with a stroll around the lawn. On one of the branches of a tree I spotted a small bird chirping and flying around like a whirlwind. 

I went closer and found a nest on a frail branch of that tree. My eyes lit up when I found two tiny thumbnail sized eggs that looked like tiny white marbles. 

What amazed me was the beauty and craftsmanship with which the birds had shaped up their nest. A glimmer of hope enveloped me as I pondered over the birds' quest to start a small world of their own. The tiny green bird wandered around to get more twigs and bind its world together. It gave me hope to stand tall and face what this creation throws at us. 

The storms rise and challenge us in life but they die down too.

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 The blazing day eventually gives way to a calm sunshine.  

The bolt!

Thunder is good, thunder is impressive; but it is lightning that does the work. - Mark Twain

The dark age

Was doing a casual research on Africa. If you believe the corporate media, then the ongoing devastation in nations like the Democratic Republic of the Congo is all just a case of ugly tribal warfare. But that is a superficial, simplistic explanation that fails to connect this terrible suffering with the immense fortunes that stand to be made from manufacturing cell phones, laptops and other high-tech gadgets. 

What is really at stake in this bloodbath is control of natural resources such as diamonds, tin, and copper, as well as cobalt - which is essential for the nuclear, chemical, aerospace, and defense industries - and coltan and niobium, which is most important for the high-tech industries. 

And, I keep on thinking!!!

Glow midst the woods

You will find something more in these woods than in books. So many stories, silent whispers, the glow... Nothing is more beautiful than the loveliness of the woods in the dark.

Rains leave a pattern

These rains leave a pattern,

one has to learn to read,

the messages they deliver.

The sound that originates,

out of these free falling droplets,

leaves a rhythm,

a pattern,

a song to sing.

These rains craft these ripples,

and these bubbles.

While falling down, in my imagination,

they carve dreams.

These droplets make a dull window pane glitter.

They bring alive, life.

Above. A man pulling his cart midst a mild shower. 

An assembly of thoughts

Let a hundred flowers bloom

Let a thousand spread across these meadows

Let them spread the fragrance 

Let them please the vision 

Let them live long enough

To scatter the gold-dust of love 

Let them not get stamped

By cruel jackboots of the intruder

Let them breathe fresh air

Let them be free

Set them free.

An assembly

Patterns

Life within..

Silence

Silence, even in this harsh winter, is loud. This is Kashmir.

Shards of snow

The frolic architecture of the snow. - Ralph Waldo Emerson

When Shades fly

When shadows talk and shades fly, this is what makes your eyes see the grace.

Being a droplet

The drops enjoy the free fall; Some lash the tin roof, a few hang on to the wet branches.

And I wonder..

I wonder about these eyes. How well it enjoys the world around!

Cloud Kick II

Long back I penned down a little thought about how clouds mesmerise me. Here is the link for that Cloud Kick post. Time passed by, many a things changed. Transformations took place. But what I see as an undisputed constant, is nature's bounty. I have been watching and craving to write more about these fluffy monsters. These monsters sometimes become creatures that we only see in dreams and fables. We carve out stories out of these soft random beings. 

They are ubiquitous, ever-changing, interesting and, most importantly an absolute subject for us humans. Sometimes, they look like big balls of cotton. I could watch them all day, and see them drift by. Use your imagination and you can see lots of things in these formations.

Many a times I see little clouds floating like a feather from some gigantic bird. They are the souls of happy ships floating merrily.

I have always felt like a a cloud, something that persists over long periods, whilst simultaneously being in flux. I travel with time like the matter that flows from place to place and momentarily comes together to become one accumulation. 

Below are a few assemblies of this wonderful creation.

The storm

The winds of the Dal appear old and sane. 

Looking back, these winds often turned turbulent and showed their might. 

They brought with them blood red mist that moistened our skies. 

What happened to the storm that rattled homes?
Is this lull announcing another brutal invasion?

The person in the image is me and it was clicked by a friend while on the shore of Dal lake. Later the image has been processed for effects with Adobe Photoshop.

A tender touch

A light, tender, sensitive touch is an amazing combination. Look what I managed to click a few moments back.

Mystical Harmony: Nature’s Eternal Symphony

The ground beneath our feet, the waters that cradle our boats, the flowers that unfold their petals to the sun—all are pieces of a grand, unseen puzzle. Each element of nature is imbued with a radiant energy, flowing effortlessly in a mystical harmony that binds them together.

The clouds above shift and dissolve into new shapes, their transformations echoing the ever-changing rhythm of life. Plants stretch toward the heavens, while creatures move with purpose, their existence a silent tribute to the intricate balance of the natural world.

Every step we take, every ripple we create, is a part of this universal dance. It’s a reminder that we are not separate from nature but deeply intertwined with its beauty and power.

Pause for a moment. Feel the earth beneath you. Listen to the wind. Watch the clouds morph into new stories. In these fleeting moments, we find the eternal truth: all of nature, including us, is connected by an invisible thread of harmony—a symphony that plays on, whether we notice it or not.

Let us honor this gift, this radiant energy, by living in tune with the world around us. For in every step, every bloom, and every wave, we are reminded of the profound unity of existence.

Hydaspes the great

We dwelled on its banks for ages 

We moved, we grooved across its waters 

We played, we basked in its glory 

We relished its blessing 

But trembled in fear when its waters showed the might 

We never thanked back when it came for help after witnessing our plight

Its flow has swept away countless bludgeons too

The times it turned green, at times orange, red or blue 

It saw their might on its shores

It saw Qadeer thumping his enormity

It also saw fists that were held high

Its turns and twists hold zillions of tales

Only Almighty knows about their fate

Hydaspes the Great!

Most of us know Jhelum as Vitasta (Sanskrit) or Vyeth (Kashmiri). Not many know that ancient Greek had named the river as Hydaspes. The River Hydaspes is the Jhelum of modern-day Kashmir. Hydaspes (Jhelum) rises from a spring at Verinag situated at the foot of the Pir Panjal mountain range in the south-eastern part of the valley of Kashmir. It flows through Srinagar and the Wular lake before entering Pakistan through a deep narrow gorge. 

The river was regarded as a god by the ancient Greeks, as were most mountains and streams. Other rivers of the east, personified by the Greeks, included the Indian Ganges, and Assyrian Tigris and Euphrates.

The Battle of the Hydaspes

The Battle of the Hydaspes River was fought by Alexander the Great in 326 BC against King Porus of the Hindu Paurava kingdom on the banks of the Hydaspes River (Jhelum River) in the Punjab near Bhera in what is now modern-day Pakistan. The battle resulted in a complete Macedonian victory and the annexation of the Punjab, which lay beyond the confines of the defeated Persian empire, into the Alexandrian Empire.

Presently, the waters of the Jhelum are allocated to Pakistan under the terms of the Indus Waters Treaty.

The second snowfall of the year

Kashmir woke up yesterday covered with white velvet blanket. I stepped out and met a few people including a group of playful kids. In no time I realized a fact that a lot of people including me, like snow. A few find it to be an unnecessary freezing of water.

And I also saw this little chap (image below) facing its first winter playfully. He was thrilled to be part of the nature's opera.

The above images are clicked on my Canon EOS 1000D

(Specifications on request)

The Dusk

Kashmiri shikarawalas (boatmen) returning home after a busy working day. They survive on these waters and cannot think beyond these mesmerizing water bodies of Kashmir. The Dal offers them livelihood and they bring Dal alive. 

Shot on 

Canon EOS 1000D

(Specifications on request)