Aadil Ghulam Bhat

    Oh, how wonderful it is to be compared to an eagle, soaring through the skies with grace and power! It's almost as if I, mere mortal that I am, Possess the same majestic qualities as this king of birds. Alas, as I sit here hunched over my table of books, Pecking away at the pen like a frantic little sparrow, I can't help but feel that the comparison is slightly misplaced.  Nevertheless, I shall take comfort in the thought That at least in someone's gleaming, limped and sparkly eyes, I am as fierce and formidable as the eagle. The poem presents the contrast between the narrator's aspirations to be majestic like an eagle and the reality of their mundane life. The narrator feels inadequate as they compare themselves to the soaring bird, yet they take comfort in the idea that someone might see them as equally formidable. This contrast highlights the human tendency to aspire to greatness, yet struggle to reconcile those dreams with the limitations of reality. The poem sp...

Amidst the pattering of the rain, A dreary day, full of pain, No sight of sun, no warmth, no light, like a soul lost, in an endless night.   Each drop a reminder of a struggle, A burden, a hardship, a constant juggle, A reminder of a life so bleak, Of a future that seems so weak.   As the clouds loom overhead, A heaviness settles in like lead, The weight of worries and fears, Too much to bear, too many tears.   Each puddle, a reflection of the past, A reminder of a struggle that lasts, Like a soul trapped, in a cycle of pain, A life of loss, with nothing to gain.   Yet in the midst of all this sorrow, There's a glimmer of hope for tomorrow, Just as the rain will eventually end, So will this struggle, hardship, this trend.   And like the sun that will surely shine, A life of hope, of joy, of love and divine  Will emerge from the darkness of the past, And a future brighter than ever will be cast.     So let the rain fa...

  The three hundred and thirteen "Suhaba ra*"  in Battle of badr. With horses scarce and swords so few, They set out to fight, a valiant crew, Their numbers small, their chances slight, Yet they pressed on, with hearts so bright. Their enemy loomed, a daunting sight, But they stood their ground, with all their might, For they had a purpose, a noble goal, To save their faith, to save their soul. In poverty, they marched ahead, A vision clear within their head, With God on their side, they knew they'd win, And so they fought, with all their sinew and skin. Their faith was strong, their trust secure, In God they found their strength and more, They rose above, their spirits high, For with God's help, they'd touch the sky. And so they battled, day and night, Their hearts aglow, with hope and light, Against all odds, they did prevail, For they were champions, with God's tale. Their story one of hope and will, A tale of faith, that triumphs still, For even in poverty...