In the factory of fools…..

Excited to see the factory of fools,
that make stools of cool..
On entering from gate,
I saw myself in cage..

Seeing long rows of raws,
that comes from flaws..

The machine of ideas and facts,
making beliefs from skept..

The ideas that are corrupted,
of no truth, of no objectives..
The raw is now in machine,
My heart is now beating with speed..

Seeing all from corner,
beiefs are formed from scanner..
The only feature that they hold (beliefs),
the strong power of hearing,not searching..
The only language that thay understand,
is of corrupted educations, not knowledge..
The only charge that they get,
is just lie, not truth..
The only protection that they have,
is just drops, not scratch..
Seeing all this, with own eyes,
I was ashamed to death..
The packaging that they hold,
is just satisfaction, not proof from mole..

I feel sofocated from all these scenes, and left …

This writing is not on religion, but on the braches that people made.


Don’t make your life to be like an offical letter or resume.

Liberate yourself from all of these terms and patterns.

Liberate yourself from these cruel claws of society.

Just focus on yourself.


You are the only one in yourself.

Find yourself…..

Because you can find ‘You’ only in ‘Yourself’.

Don't make your life to be like black colored,
It will suck all your Flairs or capabilities.

Take Yourself along with you.


‘Live your only Life’

The Day…..

On the day of a beautiful weather.

The wind come to me, and said;

Give me all your depression,
all your sorrows,
full of grief...
Give me all your fake smiles,
which hurt you,
which torn you apart...
Give me all your passions,
who broke you(not only one time),
who burn you...
Give me all your friends,
who skept you,
who framed you...

Then the Rain arrived, and said;

Give me all your drops,
that make your nose to flow...
Give me all your snow,
that icen your heart...

Then my pen said to me,

Give me all your ink,
that make your voice to be dead...

Then, I said to them;

Take all of these things to me,
Just take him back,
from that valley,
from where no one come back...



I said;

These are the episodes of my death,
Don't take them away,
I am with them
They are not from me...

The Year of my Adulthood…..

The year of my adulthood (starts with the happiness, full of prayers, blessings for whole year, The 1st of january 2021.)

But the evening of that year had changed my whole year, infact my whole life.

The year called as pandemic…

The year of the death of my smile
Tbe year of the death of my voice

The year of the death of my unsolicited life
The year of the death of my girly life
The year of the death of my all hopes and fears
The year of the death of my heart roar
Tbe year of the death of those blessful hands
The year of the death of my prode
The year of the death of my tears

The year which become a life time death for me

The 1st of January…

But, That year gives me alot…

That year give me silence...
That year give me pen instead of my voice...

That year give me a great lesson that Life is temporary.

That year…..

That year…..


Arranging grips in order,
finding grips in common..
Plating grips in starter,
peeling grips of honour..
Putting grips in walker,
knitting grips of talker..

Listening grips in order,
fighting grips of stalkers..
Pretending grips in humanity,
injecting grips of duality..
Getting grips in curing,
clouding grips of mourning..
Feeling grips in loving,
snoring grips of liking..
Collecting grips in avatar,
snipping grips of grim reaper..

Grip of what it was,
Grip of what is overall.....


The English word Girl first appeared during the Middle Ages b/w 1250 and 1300 CE, and came from The Anglo-Saxon word ‘GERLE’. Tha Anglo-Saxon word ‘gerle’ meaning ‘dress and clothing item’ also seems to have been used as a metonym in some sense.

In 1387, The greatest poet of Middle Ages, ‘Geoffry Chaucer’, was the first known person to use the word ‘Girl’, except that it was spelt ‘GYRL’ in Old English language. Chaucer used ‘gyrl’ in The General Prologue to his famous ‘The Canterbury Tales’ in 1387.

A Girl is any female human from birth through childhood and adolescence to attainment of adulthood, when she becomes a Women. The term may be used to mean a young women.

A Girl is called “koor” in Kashmir. And the word ‘chober’ is an immoral word used by guys to describe a gorgeous girl using obscence language.

Another Word for Girl is;




School girl

Young women





Allah whisper in unborn ear…

I'd preserved you, for time..
But don't be sad,
I will with you, for everytime,
I know, you need me alot,
Now, I am landing you,
In secure place of this Universe,
Of no auguries, and no sentences...
For I know, your first step
lies in swift of air,

For I know, your first nap
lies in the lap of mother,

For I know, your first smile
lies in the elements of unknown,

For I know, your first cry
lies in the emotions of pain...
You'll know then
What you are...

The second step, no question mark
The step of shivering feet,

Enabling you from air to sky
Styling you from hair to tie,

"EN" will bye you from able,
I'll hye you from table...
They will simile you by doll
They will training you for lie,
They will base you for essential
They will bake you for temperature,

They will bye you from train,
I will hye you from rain...

You will play piano of innocence
I will delay vibes of experience,

You will dance clay of equality
I will make way of reality,

You will stay acting of Florence
I will stay collecting of West winds,

WEST will bye you from EAST,
I will hye you from Feast...


They will show you how to step,
pushing you toward the third step...
They will call you disabled
I will show, you're differently abled...
"DIS" will bye you from Able,
I will hye you from cable...


Many of you living in village,
but not that village..
The village, where vehicles lost there fuel,
The village, where shoulders work, not feet..
The village, where is no diet, no plans, no work at all..
The Village, where is no energy requires to hear..
The Village, where is no world at all..
The Village, with human beings but not humans..
The Village, where pen lost there ink..
The Village, where is relations but no relationships..
The Village, where is Oxygen but no lungs at all..
The Village, where is soil but no appitite at all..
The Village, where is light with no hope at all..
The Village, where is greetings but no welcome at all..
The Village, where is home but no renovation at all..
The Village, where no one comes back..
Many of you living in Village,
but not that Village...


Do you hear?



Lets do some party..

Lets call some happiness..

Lets open some drinks..

Lets call some peace..

Lets put steps over beats,

Lets put noodles over bites..

Lets put curtin over blue,

Lets put stars over black..


To where, and with whom…….

Happiness, over blanket of grief,

made by own wool of stiff…

Drinks, over the straw of steam,

evaporate by flow of stream…

Peace, over the blanket of graveyard,

moist by storm of stoneyard…

Steps, over the light of no future,

rack slippers by dreams of no tutor…

White, black, red, and blue,

mere a state of being true…..

Do you hear…..

I am alone…..




Filling steps in cycle

Finding truth in triffle,

Filling beats in heart

Finding feets in storm,

Filling form in staff

Finding forth in half,

Filling gone in lost

Finding tone in heart,

Filling torn in half

Finding scorn in scarf,

Filling precious in asking

Finding religious in market,

For I saw;

Status with price tage

Status with fine health,

Status with grip

Status in strip,

Status with command

Status with fraud,

Feeling precious in asking

Finding religious in market…..