Sunday, November 1, 2020







What is life tell me now?

piece of a trodden thread or

a long plank of grass!

The clot of ragged wound or

cracking of the glass cup.


O' life I could only dream of you!

You came in a jiffy, left as thunder

O' life I saw you in a sip of tea

and sought you in an empty womb.


I lastly sought you in a broken star,

are you that brief cold wind

or a whiff of that fortnight moon.

O' life I count my hours.





Smell Of Jehlum


Thine rivers chripping from dawn till dusk

are my nights of ecstasy

from which freshness does flow

with drops of peace pouring into Dal.


I hide my puzzles under your green coats,

and those glistening Lillies of the Wular,

in my dreams, I sleep over melody of gush

and sink into the abyss of myriad waves


O' Kashmir you drench; glow like diamond

while my thirst quenches with balls of snow

that thatch of lush greenery

is where I belong, where I come from

rest my breaths are the guests of time.


Endless is dusk where I slide towards

slowly, slowly into the waters of Mansar,

I walk then towards Silk route to relish

and squeeze taste of nature at its best.


I live in the drops of Pangong lake

O' my land I smell your beauty

hear your voice in rush of Jehlum

see your hues in fruits and leaves.




Offer Me Fragrance


I still expect roses to offer me the fragrance

wish to have feelings of spring in chills of winter,

when my muscles are rotten, and mind decayed

my courage tremble and hope breathe its last.


I roll my obscenity into few verses of poetry

and conceal charcoal in hearts of bouquets,

paste scars on face with the charm of gaze

and hide ruins from inside the width of gown.


Skin did melt and doomed to the dust

and caged the strings of my unsung voice.

No wire of life connects me to the world

each instant hit me hard on the head.


On window sills of vicinities, I await fragrance

yet again full of pungency are my memories

drowned into unfathomable waves, O' identity!

be it a volcano ride the tide and come victorious.





Life In Poetry


In poetry,

I live there in neighbourhood of verses,

where you master thoughts

and I hath the ideas

in poetry; unify within stanzas.

Strive under tastes verses absorbed

in rhyme meet at hills of ends.


In poetry,

I sieve through eras utopian and

heap each metaphor to immortalize

my words, and grow green in books.


In poetry,

I explore pictures as scribbles

and stretch into scene for no reason,

roam in pixels to live till doom.


In poetry,

I am the cloud and torrential rain

which drench fields; barren and fertile

I desire for idealistic crops and fruits,

In poetry, I am eternal and eternity.







I cage you in memories

with shackles of melody

under blue skies of serenity.


I sing you in heartbeats

with pink lips of blood

inside vessels of soul.


I preserve you in verses

with freshwater of Jehlum

in verdure; spines of deodar


I walk you by Kashmir

with fantasy of the Majnun

and appetite for the Laila


I behold you in husks of corn

with brown hairs of autumn

within chilly orchard of winter.




ZAKIR MALIK is the editor-in-chief for the ILA Magazine, a poet, translator, reviewer, writer, critic, and a social campaigner. Zakir Malik is from Trehgam Kashmir, has co-authored 8 poetry books. His recent book is 'The Wail of the Woods'. Apart from this Zakir Malik is the founder 'Kashmir Writers Guild' and the 'Valley of the Poets'. Zakir Malik is also a permanent member at Jammu and Kashmir Innovative Foundation for Transformation Society. Zakir Malik is also the Director for UNESCO at International Youth Development Model United Nations - India. Zakir Malik is also Vice President for Cultural Forum Kupwara affiliated with Jammu and Kashmir Cultural Academy and Adbi Markaz Kashmir.


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