By S. K
Fri, 09, 20

Excerpted from One Whisper of the Beloved...By Rumi, translated by Jonathan Star and Shahram Shiva...

Flowers that bloom and wither

By Tehzeeb Sialvi

Nourishing tiny buds with blood and sweat,

Watching them grow up, among endless threats.

Then witnessing in front of your eyes,

Them bathing in a barbarous, brutal tint of red.


A flower that’s taken care of, blooms the best.

Yet it withers before blooming,

And is made a prey of illicit behest.

For years this bloodshed has been going on,

Yet no one pays heed.

Whether it be Syria, Palestine,

Or Kashmir.


He breathes into my ear

until my soul

takes on His fragrance.

He is the soul of my soul –

How can I escape?

But why would any soul in this world

want to escape from the Beloved?

We search for Him here and there

while looking right at Him.

Sitting by His side we ask,

‘O Beloved, where is the Beloved?’

Enough with such questions!

Let silence take you to the core of life.

All your talk is worthless

When compared to one whisper

of the Beloved.

Excerpted from One Whisper of the Beloved

By Rumi, translated by Jonathan Star and Shahram Shiva


By Mashaal Farid

For all I know the pride was tied with a collar

And the leftover of it was scratching nails on the walls of that narrow cage

Lurking breath struggling through little pigeonholes

Battling to search for sight, those desperate eyes were sunken

Coming so close, crossing over every distance

Ye persistence so insistent in roughhousing the resistance

numb, deaf and weary; dumb, left and teary

Life was turning into the gas masses of existence.

Set on fire

By Ali Asghar Ghani

Burn down dark thoughts

with flames of positive emotions

and let their ashes evaporate

with winds of winter

Compiled by SK