Riverbeds flowing

The rocks stretch out their arms
To homeless pebbles in the sand
As the white waters leap
Downhill in headlong pursuit
Of happy, lapping hours.

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Sea Gull (Leith Docks, 1995)

Once before I've heard this

anguished cry


A long-drawn note of many-lettered woe,

The great open beak straining

against the roar of raging surf;

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Shandur Polo

Had I seen the ghosts of this place

They would dance their victory dance;

Glorious vale

Cup, chalice,


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Mists over Thandiani*

Tonight on the veranda
I behold 
The crystalline hilltops 
Sublimate into an avalanche
Of snowflakes, in turn
Dissolving into the haze
Of silent mists;

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For Tahira Mazhar Ali Khan , RIP (5th January 1925-23rd March 2015)

Some souls pass away so quietly that not even the suspiration of their fleeting wings

is heard, or known, to us, among so many other activities, so many other things;


so, this was one such soul, that breathed its last, effortlessly and without pain,

melting away into the unknown, rising to the snowy Himalayan heights, shining forth beyond these dusty plains;

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