A Discovery Of Satisfaction!

A morning,bright and sunny,and a travel of few minutes,you walk through the lane,settle at a tea stall.A few sips,and some equal bites.You try to look at it.The bend is no more there,the arch is all meticulously drawn,the bricks are neatly arranged ,and brightly polished.There you stand,tears eager to roll down,and beats fearlessly accelerating.That wide alleyway is a familiar one,and the shade of this tree felt before.Those unheard echoes are heard before,and these sights were enjoyed before.Of snowfall,and snowflakes ,and of the tender joys,I have come to feel them from the lands that have no tales such.These evenings,when sun escapes to other world,and this breeze that leaves kissing the heart.How dream transpired into a promise,how promise generated a hope,how hope taught me action,and how action changed it all.It took you years of negligence to come to know what enlightenment is.It is something that people don’t have the scales to measure,for it is satisfaction and probably not success!!

Written By :Aojhal Junaid!!

Image : Redmi Themes!!


We Are In Winter!

(Those familiar winter assignments,like a few hundreds less than thousand ‘pages’,and a lot of ‘rhymes’ to memorise,we still remember the classics- ‘Johnny Johnny”Twinkle Twinkle’ and even some ‘Humpty Dumpty’.As a matter of shift I tried to jumble a few words.Do mumble them,in a fumble or two.Humbled.’

A misty morning greeting
To the frosty frozen people
We have isicles for the meeting
These numb toes and feeble
We are in winter
It is embitter!

Those puffy things are mere!
Here,there or where?
Now Sun washes it all
Even when there is a fall
We are in winter
It is embitter!

Written By: Aojhal JunaidĀ©

Pics: Google 

Meeting The Interlocuter!!

We did our part,though we don’t see anything coming!

On 28th of November,2017, I ,with a perfect team of eleven, dressed up for the occasion as we formed ,as they said,’an important delegation’ to meet a man,termed as Interlocutor,to play our part in resolving one of the oldest disputes ,they fail to recognize,The Kashmir.

Yes,Mr Dineshwar Sharma,Ex-IB Chief,felt a need to talk with College Students too,the section that has already established itself as ‘disoriented warm-blooded creatures who no more believe in pen and it’s miracles’,they said.We didn’t agree at first,but there is something called ‘academic pressure’,quite sure you are adept with it!!

We were supposed to have an appointment at 1.30 pm,which quite expectedly,however,was delayed to 4.00 pm,thus giving us enough time to prepare for something that we were foreseeing as a ‘potential debate’.Our group leader,a lovely friend and a closer to heart guy,assembled us,and we talked,mumbled, sloganeered (not that loud,Sir, please!!),debated,cried,yelled as long as the vocal cords lost their symphony,and the need of more calories were felt.We had a comprehensive debate over every probable aspect,that our history may have knocked at.We had a lot of statistical data at hand,our figures were many,we had a track of every massacre,we had every answer for the expected question,and we had every question that,we believed,he won’t have answer of.

Though we were expecting to meet him as a separate group,but time and resources,two grave limitations, they excused, didn’t favour us,so all the college students,from as many as five colleges,together entered his meeting hall,with an empty stomach and an over-fed brain.

We knew how he looked,but to see him was just like to see another Indian,who didn’t smell or sound like us.I was the first to talk or maybe interrupt,and that was a response to his first remark- Let’s make it fast,there are others too.I told him that we were eager to meet you,and we can speak to you all night!(read it as typical Kashmiri ‘Thani Fashh”)

Then came the questions from my fellow mates.With every question,he turned more red(remember red cheeks?),the burgundy shades,and his lips started showing crevices,the quick sips of water couldn’t fill,and a moist tongue couldn’t conceal.He was as tight lipped as a guilty can ever be,and the occasional replies,he failed not to deliver, were imminently retreated.I guess he was meticulous at that.The students,out there, gave him a hard time,which he unsuccessfully,tried to negotiate.For his every allegation against anything pertaining Kashmir there was a roar of voices to reply him.With due respect to the emotions,we still need to learn to give others oppurtunties to speak even if it erodes a few feathers off our cap!

One of the many beauties of the day, apart from his well worn suit,was the active participation of girls in the meet.They knew about the subject as much as anyone would know.That political consciousness was beauty,I tell you.

You know why the tone of this script isn’t serious? Yes,you know that.A dispute that costed us thousands of lives,and that snatched from us our everything ,in now way ,can ever be brought on any lighter note scale. Obviously it is the’ Concept of Interlocutor’ that is a joke in making.It surprised us that he had no ‘personal opinion’ about Kashmir,he didn’t have any ‘aggenda’ to share,he was like an about-to-retire school master listening to those familair essays,’The Cow’,’My Hobby’ and alike stuff.His non-seriousness was evident as he jotted nothing down,and neither was the meet recorded.I don’t know if there were spy cameras,we can’t believe them na?,but that would be a ‘Breach Of Privacy’.Again,who cares!!

Let’s don’t blame the man for the misdeeds of a nation.He is too fragile to be burdened with this all!I remember him saying that in future we may see Pakistan joining the talks.Claps!

Towards conclusion there was a unanimous call that Kashmir isn’t a development or unemployment or scholarship or road issue.It is a political issue,and it needs to be dealt that way.It can reach it’s logical and rational fate through a plebiscite,or tripartite talks or UNO resolutions!(so familiar terms now,,,Kyunki Bachcha Bachcha Jaanta Hai Is Ka Hall)

There are arguments that it was a futile thing ,and it was better to stay aloof,but we left the room with a feeling that we did our part, though we don’t see anything coming!

Oh I forgot to mention that as the man stood up to end the session,I made a final comment,not sure if anyone heard that,’It was another attempt of rubbing salts on our wounds’.I don’t know if I really meant that,but let’s be sure,it,in a way was!!

Author : Aojhal Junaid!!

Image : Google Images!!

From Stammer To Fumble!

We are humans, and that is the best thing that could have happened to us!

A feeling of ‘you could have done better’ is a familiar one,we all can claim of relating to.That is,seemingly,perhaps that there is always a better shot ahead,and the one that was just skipped by time wasn’t perfect,for had it been perfect why would there ever be a reason for another.

Sometimes I am way too upset with myself when I skip the words, mutilate them,maim them with the abrupt pauses and abuse of synchrony,even if I never distrusted my own words.It is aching at times,and more aching at others.However,when the nerves cool down a bit,and eyes regain their focus and thoughts start making sense again,a smile is what I offer myself.Yes,an imaginary pat at the back,a zealous thump at the cage that resides heart in,and a wink that is but a way to ascertain all is well!

Legend has it that I was born a stammerer,someone who is not able to speak the way he wishes to! We all are stammerers,in some way,I guess.Anyways,I don’t exactly remember those times,but I was quite a stammerer for not less than four years after my tongue started making meaningful movements.It would have been hard,I sigh.

I imagine myself uttering my name as Jjjjj…jjuuuunnnn….aaaiiiiiidddd,in reply to the very first question they used to ask those days to check if the lad knows English,’What is your name?’ To some it may have been an exhibition of innocence,but for me it was,quite evidently,an embarrassment,I assume recalling.Yes,I sense so.It is never pleasant to keep not pace with the way the thoughts come,I often retire to reflect.

When I try hard to recall those harder days of articulation,even the fumble looks some achievement.It surely is,I fail not to admit.A fumble is like I am not handling the slimy fish with ease,while as stammer is when I didn’t have the fish at first place.

When we connect to our past,and dramatize the events,in our imaginary theatres,we come to know the colours that faded and the ones that remained vivid all the course.We get to know the characters we played,and failed at,and the ones that have lend their essence be a part of us.We learn how a symphony destroys itself,when the strings fail to keep with emotions.We admire the applauses that gave us reasons to pursue and the opposites that marred our day.We evolve.We are humans,that is the best thing that could have ever happened to us!

 Author : Aojhal Junaid!!

Pics : Google Images!!

Tasteless Words!

(Coming Back To The Abandoned Words Is Never Easy But Opposite Is Just Not Possible For The Passionate)

All of a sudden your possessions seem meagre and insecure and your claims turn more hollow than ‘O’.Your lips tremble against your will and your eyes blink at their own whim.Your thoughts come in no smoother form and your acts appear to be opposite to your perception.Your hands wave at unfamiliar ones and your feet head towards none of your destinies.You seem to be occupied,or may be preoccupied or maybe just not,but it obviously seems to be something not too odd to call odd.
In this state of desperation,you seek refuge of your words.
Alas! They have turned tasteless,for they weren’t used for some time now.
Indeed,words lose their taste when kept a bay from their meanings,when not used to express frequently and when stacked upon one another only to build castles,and that too in the cosmos that even angels didn’t give a try to conquer!!

In Your Joy!!

(Love is,undoubtedly,the most common of all subjects that poets tend to write about or reflect on.It is equally the most difficult of the works to give a meaning to words that imply love.Everyone has a different reflection of this theme,and I am no exception.The poem,written below,is about 4 year old,that I accidentally found written on one of my notes.I have eventually edited some of it’s words,because with time things change,so should our words!!)

In your joy rests the peace of my soul,

In your sorrow I feel the pain of the worlds.

In your smile is the key of my locked heart,

In your frown is the distaste of even heavens!!


In your paths is the destiny of my soul,

In my heart is the castle of yours.

In your love is the death of my doubts,

In my hate do you lit the light of tonight…


Distant are the paths that always converge,

Thoughtful is the way you dragged me there,

Unique is the curve of your lovely face,

Elegant the way you talk to my Lord!


I am not the one you could have for yourself! 

Say me a ghost that appears black on this eve.

I am not the tone of your low slow songs,

Call me a mad who wanders in fear…


Justice was done to the shadow I owned,

For millions burnt that in the scorching sun!

Yet remained the soul of trust and love,

But the men of hour seldom know it now!

Compiled By:

Aojhal Junaid 

In Pic :

Aojhal Junaid 

Colours Of Despair!!

What comes as a despair to soul and within
And it turns autumn in the midst of spring
Leaves fall before the bloom of flowers
And sun rushes to hide it’s humiliation
Moon resists to come not naked then
And stars protest the way they keep winking
Birds assume it to be a dull morning
And rest in their abode for another day
Echoes are heard even before the voice
And whispers suggest me a funeral of love
Someone is there in the coffin before
Loosing her name and all she possesed
The dark of this hour has spilled but colours
Colours of despair,colours lifeless
Is she sleeping or pretending to
No,she is dead and hiding herself from herself!!

Written By :

Aojhal Junaid 

Photo Credits :