Aadil Ghulam Bhat

  Aadil Ghulam Bhat [Poet & Novel writer]  Born on 02- 04- 1999 The grass is now no more green. And no tree can hold their leaves. The sun is now hiding in misty cold. Scenic beauty is no more on ridge. The days are now no more long. And no garden has a flowery tale. Fall has subsided the green gold . Flock singing is no more on ridge. A dry, hot, loo is now no more strong. And no Vale is singing the edenic song. The heaven has now nothing to hold Bird shrieking is no more on ridge . The morning breeze is no more fare. And no evening holds a crimson way Fall has turn'd every green to gold. Cloud dance is no more on ridge. ABOUT AUTHOR:- Aadil Ghulam Bhat, a poet, author, and novelist from Kulgam in Jammu and Kashmir, is well-known for his vivid and absorbing creative works. Bhat, a Bachelor of Science graduate of Kashmir University, writes with a great understanding of his surroundings and Kashmir's diverse cultural history. His prose weaves captivating stories that delve...

Aadil Ghulam Bhat [Poet & Novel writer] Born on 02- 04- 1999. Last Friday, through the window, Beside me was father's aging face. Pale, lined mouth, less toothed, Silver hair, once dark, uncloaked. Thoughts put away, rearview's glint, Journeyed together, ageless shimmer. Face, pale as sea sand, temporal hug, Wrinkles etched by life's gentle trace. Late winter's fourteenth moon Shone bright, was his reflecting beauty. Now feels as old as fading starlight, Crow's feet and a graceful bend, A gentle mark, seized reveries. Despite the changing tides of age, Clocks may tick and years may fly, Love still stands, love stands resolute.