When wars are over, the silence stays,
But deep in hearts, the pain decays.
To cheer for war from cushioned chairs,
Is not the weight a soldier bears.
Go, ask the one whose son won’t speak.
Whose silence burns, whose eyes grow weak.
Yet we stand firm, with soul and breath,
To guard our soil through life or death.
Not in the chant, but in the fight,
We pledge our flesh to shield the right.
For peace we toil, for love we cry,
And if we must—we bleed, we die.
For love, we break, for peace, we fight,
We march through shadows into the light.
And if the call demands our breath,
We gift it freely—life or death.
We know too well what war can steal—
And still we stand, with aching steel.

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In last two days, I received calls from my Hindu friends—scattered across the map of this vast country: Bangalore, Chennai, Delhi, Noida, Gurgaon.

Them: "Bhai, tu kahan hai?"
Me: "Kashmir mein."
Them: "Phir theek hai bhai. Mujhe laga yahan ho. Agar kuch bhi dikkat ho, bina jhijhak batana. Hum yahin hain."

And then, one of my Bengali brothers called.

Him: "Bhai, kahan ho?"
Me: "Kashmir mein."
Him: "Haan, tabhi to call kiya. Bhai, khayal rakhna apna. Abhi kahin ghoomne mat jana."

No grand gestures. Just voices wrapped in care.
No trending hashtags. Just heartfelt concern.
This is the brotherhood I believe in.
Beyond religion. Beyond region. Just pure connection.
In a world carved up by boundaries, it's moments like these that remind me—
we are still one people, still bound by love.

-

There is no banner noble enough, no cause righteous enough, no matter the flag waved, the faith claimed, or the cause shouted to ever justify the blood of the innocent. A child’s blood on a dusty street stains humanity the same—whether the land is called Gaza or Kashmir.

Terrorism wears no noble face. It is the same evil, whether it hides behind politics, religion, or revenge. It does not liberate—it destroys. It does not fight for justice—it murders hope.

When the innocent die, we all lose a piece of our shared humanity. And if we ever start to justify their deaths, we’ve already lost everything that makes us human.

We stand against every form of barbarism, in every part of the world.

#Pahalgam #Palestine
#EveryInnocentLifeMatters
#TerrorismHasNoReligion

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Taalukaat aksar qasoor se nahi, zehen ke fitoor se kharaab hote hai.

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Ye shakal ye soorat ye sehet ye tandrusti aur ye rang o roop.
Ye doulat ye shohrat ye taqat ye quwwat aur ye chamakti doop.

Ye shola ye shabnum ye chaman ye phool aur ye nadi ka jaloop.
Khair ye ki bohot kuch nikhar jaata hai bikhar jaane se pehle.

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Jab loug tumhare tootne ka intezaar karrahe ho.
To samaj jana ki asmaan me chamakta ek sitara ho tum.

-

Is mitti pe rehke hum is tarah bhi sukoon pazeer ho jatey hai.
Jaise maa ke pehlun mai unke aulaad so jatey hai.

Jumma ka din, mahina ramzan ka aur raat Shab-e-Qadr ki thi.
Aise hi mubarak dino pe mulk azaad ho jatey hai.

Aaj "Youm-e-Jamhooriah" hai aur din bhi jumma ka aaya ka.
Aao sab milkar dua karte hai, aao aaj kamiyaab ho jatey hai.

-

Sardiyon me din ko nikalne wala suraj ho tum.
Baad barsaat mehekti mitti ki khushboo ho tum.

Jab log tumhare tootne ka intezaar karrahe ho.
To samaj jana ki asmaan me chamakta ek sitara ho tum.

-

Kisi ko mohlat chahiye aur kisi ka sabr khatam ho chuka hai.
Dunya ko insaniyat chahiye aur yahan zamana haiwan ho chuka hai.

Bohot naaz hai tujhe ki rakhta hai maazi-o -haal ki khabar.
Gaflat me itna dhoob gaya hai ki apna mustaqbil kho chuka hai.

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Kbi khulti ankhon se dekhle, teri band deedon ko khol kar.
Ye jo daag dikhta hai tujhe, tere aayiney ki ye dhool hai.

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