The true story

“A true war story is never moral. It does not instruct, nor encourage virtue, nor suggest models of proper human behavior, nor restrain men from doing the things men have always done. If a story seems moral, do not believe it. If at the end of a war story you feel uplifted, or if you feel that some small bit of rectitude has been salvaged from the larger waste, then you have been made the victim of a very old and terrible lie. There is no rectitude whatsoever. There is no virtue. As a first rule of thumb, therefore, you can tell a true war story by its absolute and uncompromising allegiance to obscenity and evil.” ― Tim O'Brien, The Things They Carried

Smile - Unbuttoned

“The pursuit of happiness is a most ridiculous phrase:

if you pursue happiness you’ll never find it.” - C.P. Snow

Why chase something that is there? Why this race? Happiness is all around; it’s like bubbles. Bubbles of smiles bursting around us at random. Even in these tough times when a garden appears to us as a desert and even when we are forced to bid adieu to our loved ones, unwillingly.

Still glued to that hope - that hope of bloom, that hope of return. We smile. We all do!

Heaven beaded by barbed wires

We have seen them glitter after quenching their thirst

Soaked with bonded sweat, with innocent blood

They stood ruthless as the face of the tyrant

At times, it became my armor, sometimes, it covered my fist

My murderer made it into a deadly whip

Those barbed lines were installed to arrest the spirits

Gave me a reason, to continue my quest

Carrying along a hope and a desire

One fine day, these deadly thorns will corrode and fall apart

These lines will fall apart, these lines will fall apart

Making way for a harmless stretch

Where our children will walk without a scratch.

The heritage you leave behind

Among the pre-Mughal muslim building of Kashmir, one of the most prominent is the masjid of Madin Sahib at Zadibal. The monument is a masterpiece and carries very distinct architectural feature including earthen roof, khatamband (ceiling made of thin pieces of wood worked in geometric patterns) and the tile work. The structure is famous for its glazed tile work throughout the world. The structure is a protected monument and some part of it was renovated by the State archaeology department.

The north of the masjid is the tomb of the saint. In ancient times it must have presented a brilliant spectacle, as its entire wall surface was decorated with glazed tiles, most of which have unfortunately been removed and sold out of Kashmir. A few fragments are preserved in the Pratap Museum, Srinagar.

I was surprised to see the shrine locked and not accessible to the public. The reasons behind is the controversy related to control of the shrine.

My best friend rightly said, "I do not understand how human beings can arrest such an exquisite piece of art and not allow other human beings to witness it. It is absolutely unjust on their parts as this shrine needs admirers and not a curtain to keep it away from admiring eyes."

The shrine was guarded by the caretaker and according to him no one can enter the premise of the shrine. One needs to get special permission from the regional administrative offices to do that.

Both the tomb and the masjid were built in memory of the same person, and the inscription on the lintel of the entrance of the masjid records the date of its erection as A.H. 888 (A.D. 1483) in the reign of Zain-ul-abidin.

The shrine is believed to be the only structure in valley representing all essential features of old Kashmiri architecture.

Not about anything else but is all about the heritage you leave behind.

The above images are clicked on my Canon EOS

(Specifications on request)

A long journey

The complete life, the perfect pattern, including youth and maturity. The beauty of the morning and the radiance of the noon. You are yet to experience what I witnessed so far.

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.