Illuminate Lives

I write this poem with a view to throw light on the lives of people and family members of those who were martyred in Pulwama terror attack.  Although, to my chagrin however hard i try, I'll never be able to feel and express the pain. When I write down a bard for those martyred, my hands shiver... fearing my words won’t describe, them and their valour. The pain that they bore, the gears that they wore. My inability so sour, can’t explain it anymore. How would I express, the void prayers of the wives whose eyes would still look for those resembling figures knocking at their door after fives. How would I express, the bereavement of the parents of those bravehearts who have themselves seen the wick go off, which they had lighted. How would I express, the obligation of the princess daughters who’ll have to learn to fight this fact The way their fathers did at the battle field. How would I express, the strength of the iron-clad son

The plant at that corner was almost dead,  secluded 1  from the  prosaic 2  eyes with no leaves and no prominent signs of life.  What was visible were just the dried lanky branches of the  relic 3  body, in between the other plants with greens and flowers that resonated louder than this lonely one.  The gardener looked so busy decorating what was already  wrought 4 , that he hardly paid attention to this  wimp 5  body.  He was very  callous 6  about this plant or might not even have bothered if it wasn’t there. I was scrutinizing this episode from a distance, how this little one was  eschewed 7  from its basic needs.  After the gardener was done with his task, I went closer.  I noticed that gloomy plant trying to hide its ugliness or rather lifelessness.  Probably the one that wasn’t properly weaned and hence, lost the path while others  brewed up 8 .  The closer I went, more was it nervous.  I touched it gently, just so that I could console and heal. It was still alive, and I