Silent Wails on the Curfewed Night By Basharat Peer

Silent Wails on the Curfewed Night By Basharat Peer.

Caught between Fire and Storm!

DreaMenology

The droplets on the glass of the window pane could be a cue to my presence, as my feminine silhouette would leave the viewer with no confusion. But there’s a catch- nobody is going to the backyard of this military makeshift residence.

Outside, I can see the kinetic power that wind carries with itself, always, only now it seems more dramatic the way trees, drenched from the downpour, were swinging madly from one direction to the other. The age of the trees as of the area was beyond calculation because it existed on the face of the earth since the dawn of civilization and later got recognition as a turbulent village near two neighbouring countries. The fierce sounds of bombs being fired from both sides could be heard. Some of them sound to have landed very near. Even the raging war, going on somewhere nearby, cannot keep me away from…

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Mirror, Mirror On The Wall, Who Is The Fairest Of Us All?

Beauty lies within your heart…

arfa masihuddin

snow white

Much has been said about the subcontinent’s archaic obsession with the “goray gaal” (fair skin). And while many amongst us will opine our disapprobation, there will be quite a few of the same lot who will flock to the air-conditioned stores (or non air-conditioned ) to try out another latest addition to the numerous miracle creams that are the self-acclaimed magic ticket to getting the Prince Charming who drives a Mercedes.

In this day and age, it is a highly Quixotic notion to “ooh and aah” over white skin and frown with distaste at a brown or even slightly wheatish complexion. In fact, it has always been a Quixotic notion. After all, how can the colour of a person’s skin define their roles as prospective husbands and wives and daughters-in-law and sons-in-law? Compatibility, personality and character, have been told to go play hide-and-seek. D’ Accord?

Celebrities and socially prominent personalities…

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The Cigarette Butts

Mera Corner

The golden eye in the sky
Was looking at me
Angrily!

I was sitting
On the broken chair
Bearing his wrath
Silently!

Several cigarette butts
Were mocking me
Trashed in the earthen plant pot
And lying on the floor
Aimlessly!

Thank God
No cigarette butt
Will ever get a reaction from me
Absence of heat, ash and smoke
In my life I celebrate
Perpetually!

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