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Arts/Society The Original Poetry And Short Stories Of SPN Authors


Mar 27, 2007
Re: Poetry Corner

This poetry is all about my girlfriend...

However keep in mind when I wrote this, i was not a Gursikh.

The Second Guru
By: *me* (note: edited for online use, all it;s right still belong to me, but i do not wish to disclose my name)

Chapter One

Homage to the Guru,
Tamer of beings.
Set us on the right
and lead us

- 1 -

The first meeting
was like a spark
I stomped it
My own dark mind.
Love was lost.

- 2 -
Foolish decisions
That only hurt you
without change
the natural process
I would
not of
you like
I do now.

- 3 -
With trust
comes total surrender
I give
to you.
I will be gentle,
to you.
Please, treat me well.

- 4 -
There is no other
Love or obsession
in my life
then you.
I entrust myself to you.

- 5 -
When opposites meet
The pure always
Wash away the stains of
My love, make me pure,
like you.

- 6 -
Each day passes
Your purity, love,
Compassion, and
Wisdom rub off on
When two cloths
Look identical
One was pure
One was stained
You, my love
Took away my stains.
We are one, now,

- 7 -
I have become
just like you.
We are one cloth.
Just two different sides.
Different expressions
of one united soul.

- 8 -
Like the Heruka's
Three faces
We are
2 beings
That appear
In mind
O N E.

- 9 -
Having met
The love of my
Is the blessings of
All the Buddhas.
Be my Mandarava.

- 10 -
Even if seperate
in body
I still miss you.
I begin to
There, I see, you
never left.

- 11 -
You are
only thing

- 12 -
Everything else
your love
to me.
You are my second guru.
For everything to be
is learned in
l o v e.

- 13 -
Seeing you is like
Seeing an embodiemnt
of all that
is wished for.
All I need is you.

- 14 -
Even if you were
to hate me
Any attention from you
is a rain of
Heavenly flowers,
Delightful to anyone.

- 15 -
Will you
be there
Love me
think of me,
Even that
is a cause
for bliss
Like Indra's bow.

- 16 -
My love for
will always
be an all engulfing
burning away all
my imperfections.
Until only you, and
The first Guru

- 17 -
Every day
I pick up
The pen that
sheds away
all hate.
I write on
The paper of pure love.
So all can see
The radiating
warmth of
true love.

- 18 -
It is always
the small
things that
a heart
in love
Second Guru,
I pray,
Shower me,
with your un-ending
love and

- 19 -
Before entering the
I wash my hands,
And there I see
I wash my face,
We are of one face
I wash my feet,
and my sins
are cleansed
by your love.

- 20 -
With time
in our love
I lose
and see our

Leader Note: More than once some of our respected members have published original poetry and short stories. There is real talent here among members of the forum. So from time to time you should post your poetry and short stories in this thread. That way it will be possible to have a creative writing thread and SPN authors will make the thread thrive. Whenever forum leaders find an older post with your creative writing, we would be able to copy it to this thread. (Unless of course you object!) Poems and stories in Punjabi are also encouraged! One of the amazing things about SPN -- OUR MEMBERSHIP IS AMAZING!

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ਨਾਮ ਤੇਰੇ ਕੀ ਜੋਤਿ ਲਗਾਈ (Previously namjap)
Jul 14, 2007
Re: Poetry Corner

Wah jee Wah
Wah re Wah

there has to be more from you, Sherab
your verses hit me like strings of Rebab

I wished that the moment lasts to eternity
bathing in the bliss with words of certainty

what a surprise this is from you jee, aad0002
your presence has been missed by this soul 2

Welcome, brothers and sisters on this journey
to feel, rejoice and partake the milk and honey



Mar 27, 2007
Re: Poetry Corner

Let us all chant the Naam
Let us hit the strings of the unstruck Shabad

Let us sing songs of praises
and that of lament
All while remembering Akal.

Any bliss or pain
We have is his Hukam
What more is there
for us to do?

Keep Anand,
Keep pain,
Let go of Anand,
Let go of Pain
All is his Hukam.

Love between two
Mortal or immortal
Is the true Anand.
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ਨਾਮ ਤੇਰੇ ਕੀ ਜੋਤਿ ਲਗਾਈ (Previously namjap)
Jul 14, 2007
Re: Poetry Corner

Regrets.... I Have Many

Life in leafy Edgbaston was cosy, routine and without much bother,

Mummy and daddy where professional middle class,
I was at college study for my A levels,
I was shy and obedient but I wasn't content,
I longed for excitement,
I wanted to live the world,
I wanted to be as bold as brass and that was my intent.
At college one day, a lad approached me, as he towards me,

I could see from afar around his neck, he wore the moon and stars around his neck.
He was very persistent and sweet,
Told me I was beautiful from my head down to my feet.
In my innocence by this tender words I was fooled,
This Muslim boy loved me.
And the love for my own family cooled.

My stupidity lead me to follow western trends,
I allowed him to become my boyfriend,
He had me under his hypnotic spell,
What I was going to do next nobody could tell,
I moved from Edgbaston to Sparkbrook.
I longed to be with my one and only Farooq.
My life was to change completely,
Long gone where the afternoon tea parties with the ladies,
Long gone where my Mummy's BMW and Daddy's Mercedes,

I was soon getting on and off buses and trams,
As I struggled with a variety of prams,
I was his sweetheart no more,
Instead I had become his common *****.
From Edgbaston to Sparkbrook and then to living hell
That is Pakistan,
A distant memory now, but please believe me,
I had once stood shoulder to shoulder with my dear dad
and demanded khalistan.
Oh God
What have I done?

What has happened to me?
What have I become?
As I lay awake at night
There is nobody to even hear me cry,
My thoughts are unanswered, questions are my only escape,
Somebody, anybody! Please tell me?

Will I ever stand in the warmth of my kitchen again?
Will I ever feel the hug of dear Daddy's strong arms?
Will my brothers ever fight and play and argue with me again?
Will I be there when my Mummy and Daddy grow old?
When my brother gets married will I be there to put the kalgi on his pagh?
Will I ever again experience the sweet nectar that is Gurbani?
Will I ever share langar again?
Now there are no answers, only questions.

I have sown the seed of my own despair,
My life is in ruins, which nobody can repair,
My innocence, foolishness, kismet on me all have cheated,
I desperately want my previous boring life,
But I fear I am living in false hope,
In my heart of hearts I know that can never be repeated.
As I write these word in the unforgiving Pakistani heat,
Streams of sweat and tears run down my face,
I realise for me it is now too late,
Life has dealt me a cruel fate,
My living hell on my own I have to endure,
But I plead with my Sikh sisters that you make sure
Don't be fooled by his looks and false allure.

Stay in the warmth of Sikh religion,
Maintain your family values,
Enjoy its rich culture, but unlike me don't abuse its social freedom,
Ignore my advice at your peril,
But I beg you to take, a good long hard look at me,
A pitiful shambles I'm sure you will agree,
Happiness or even hope, I haven't any,

But regrets.............
I have many.



Oct 3, 2007
Belize City, Belize
Re: Poetry Corner

Some say You are the writer, whose letters are Creation;
Some call You watchmaker, a genius looking on;
Some say You have this name or that name or the name they cannot speak.
Some say Father, King, Mother, Queen, Sun, Secret, Light, Merciful Judge, Humble Ruler.
You are all that and more.

Some saw You here, and some elsewhere, and others long ago; some, just the other day.
Some say You came to save, some to demand allegiance, some to select the worthy.
Some heard You on Your mountain, some in Your sea; some in an old man, some in a child.
Some travelled miles to meet You, some just turned around and there You were.
You do all this and more.

How can the mind take You all in?
Is there anywhere You have not been, and are not now?
What would be the good of figuring You out,
When I could be serving You right now?
Since You are here I can praise You any time!
You explain what can be understood, to any who listen.
You hear everything wherever it is spoken,
You know every thought we have about You.

Some call You in the depth of night, when fear surrounds them;
Some sing Your praises in the light, in ecstasy;
Some part of You is all our illusion-blinded minds can grasp.
Some effort to love and serve You is all that You demand.
You are more than any praise and love and service can ever match, but
I will give you all I can, Amazing Guru!

- by Joey


(previously amarsanghera, account deactivated at t
Jun 7, 2006
Re: Technique Of Controlling Mind

beautiful aad ji

jit mein main hai
tis mein "tu" naahi
Main ko main samjhoon
tumko dekh na pavoon
jangal dhoondoon
ulta latkooon
karoon saadhnaa roz roz
tune banaya aisa putla
khud hi sochun, khud hi bhooloon
main ko main hi samajhna chahoon
main ko main hi rokna chahoon
tumko abtak janoon na
tune banaya aisa putla


ਨਾਮ ਤੇਰੇ ਕੀ ਜੋਤਿ ਲਗਾਈ (Previously namjap)
Jul 14, 2007
Re: Poetry Corner


Connecting, spiritual reality ephemeral inter woven by design.

One good deed leads to another, seeds sown years ago, harvest time is near.

Decisions made impact upon our destiny.

Spoken word falling upon pastures new, linking us together.

We drift upon invisible currents to meet once again at distant crossroads.

Daily, I am developing a greater peace with myself, this has grown largly due to being more comfortable with my spiritual faith.

Constant Spiritual Companion

Peace within, without
contentment rises, bubbling in my soul
my inner spirit, my constant companion
shielding me, tirelessly urging
to reflect upon beauty around
within others, self
a guiding light, softly, shimmering
leading me towards journeys end.



(previously amarsanghera, account deactivated at t
Jun 7, 2006
Re: Converts to Sikhism?

Journey ~~~~~

I move just around the corner,
Seeking the truth, trusting my senses,
Seeing beyond what i see today.

Gentle strings, invisible but firm, tug me,
My anticipation grows as i step around,
Only to find that i have another turn in the way.


ਨਾਮ ਤੇਰੇ ਕੀ ਜੋਤਿ ਲਗਾਈ (Previously namjap)
Jul 14, 2007
Re: Poetry Corner

Cloning designs nothing
Beyond the command of God,
There is every inch of reason
To continue the faith in Lord.

Why should there be a need
To explain the power of God?
Whose creation can create a human
How great will be that Lord.

The birth of light from Sun
The science of light on earth
The creation of man by God
The science of clone on earth.

All that takes place
Within the boundaries of world
Is either direct by the Lord
Or by some chosen means by God.

One such medium of creation
Has been designed as human
One such supreme creation
Is designed first by Lord.

Praise the King of world
And praise his creation too
How intense is the reason now to believe
Lord who bestows power to create to you too.

Nothing is beyond His control
Nothing takes without His will
All glory falls to Him
Who created the ones who can create.

Live a life
Only if you can strive
Not for the good of self
But for the self to be good.
* * * * *

A moment’s joy
An age’s despair
Life your ways
Are unfair.
* * * * *

In the difference
Between fair and material
Swings the human mind and soul,
Fate plays a game
And swing breaks
Man falls to breathe
Material world in grief.

With bright sunshine
When good time arrives
Ordinary smiles.
* * * * *

They rejoice on gain of loaf
They share pleasure of their own
Innocent, they believe
Just though it is
Life needs meal
Air to breathe
Love to share
Hope to dream.
* * * * *

You love and you realize
Sorrows are no surprise.
* * * * *

Life serves no roof
Many in search of secure death.
* * * * *
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Apr 20, 2008
Liverpool, England
Re: Poetry Corner

Some of my poetry;-

Temple of One

You asked me to marry you.
I wasn’t ready,
I still had segments of my life
to live.

I wasn’t ready for commitment.
I was already married to the world.
I thrill on the loneliness of one.
Happy exploring my private trajectory.
I took many lifetimes building
my own platform,
I don’t want to share my intimate space
with you or God.

I am a solitary soul, this is my one man show.
Yes, I love you, but that is all;
a relationship would only make me
grow old.

Marriage would crucify my independence,
eroding away my hard earned confidence.
So I’ll remain happily alone,
in my strictly solo home.

(C)2008 Lenny Gazbowski

And my next poem:-

To Give

Bring me your trials
and in return
I'll offer you my justice

Bring me your heart
and in return
I'll replenish it with my blood

Bring me your loss
and in return
I'll blow it away

Bring me your lips
and I'll pour you my wine

Bring me your naked flesh
and I'll paint your portrait

Bring me your smile
and I'll return your laughter

(C) 2008 Lenny Gazbowski

I used to be a regular performer on the Merseyside circuit, due to poor health I no longer read my poetry at gig. However I continue to write poetry !:up:

Hope you enjoyed the two poems I've posted.



ਨਾਮ ਤੇਰੇ ਕੀ ਜੋਤਿ ਲਗਾਈ (Previously namjap)
Jul 14, 2007
Re: Poetry Corner

I am willing to compromise
something I couldn't do in the past
But time made me all wise
and let's leave the past in the past

How would I define the boundaries
of what cannot be discussed anymore
I will just mind my own business
as we are not husband and wife anymore

But I do brighten up and get excited
with my heart working faster and harder
When I receive a call from you
thinking if you're coming my way, I wonder

But reality hits hard again when you speak business
shattering all the fantasy and illusion I built in the mind
pretending as if everything's ok and in success
hoping every tear I shed will make me humble and kind
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Apr 19, 2008
WaheGuru Ji Ka Khalsa, WaheGuru Ji Ki Fateh.

I often write poems. I have composed more than 2000 poems till date.
Some of my poems are as under:

I wish to write
The words of my heart,
The cause of its beats
The delicacy of thoughts.
* * * * *

A million reasons
Still to know,
The beats of heart
The sound that flows.
* * * * *

I lit a candle in solitude
With it I lit my dreams,
True, I saw a miracle real
My childhood smiling at my youth.
* * * * *

As drops in river
So do desires in mind,
Rise and succeed
On the command of time.
* * * * *

In the sweat with time
In the pain, Divine
We remember you
To forget life.
* * * * *

Never mind the heat of sun
Joys will come.
* * * * *

Tears wipe pain from my face
Not strength from my heart.
* * * * *

Tears are tiny drops of pain
In the ocean of ever flowing joys.
* * * * *

To the temple she goes with tears in
From the temple she comes with
smiling pride.
* * * * *

Faith never cries
It's doubt that sheds tears.
* * * * *

In the magnitude of what exists
There is nothing in infinity
And infinity in nothing.
* * * * *

Near the fruity tree lies his grave,
He who died for a loaf of bread.
* * * * *

Written by – Ekta K. Kalra

WaheGuru Ji Ka Khalsa, WaheGuru Ji Ki Fateh.

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Feb 25, 2008
Re: Poetry Corner

Just Sharing

Others are there too

Walking under it, enjoying its gift
How many times sun became talk of your interest?
Enjoying rain sitting in patio long time,
How much time process of rain shook you?
Enjoying the sweet of honey on a dried bread
How much consistent labor bees went through constantly over looked.
Engrossed in own satisfaction mind has not much time left
To consider life of a flower cultivates joy while inching toward death
Superior being of all indulged in little self
Stay in illusion to be here for ever, the lesser being
Are less into eternity delusions better aligned with laws of nature.
Get a moment to appreciate all in surroundings
And notice they are there not you alone.


(previously amarsanghera, account deactivated at t
Jun 7, 2006
Re: Poetry Corner

A Sikh's "inner" prayer

God, Give me "the kes", my love for the universe

that flows unconditionally

God, Give me "the kirpan", the will to be just

that makes me the brave.

God, Give me "the kacchera" , my obedience to you

that makes me a willing student.

God, Give me "the kanga", my awakened conscience

That clears up my thoughts.

God, Give me "the Kara", the rememberence of your Naam

That is with me all the time.


(previously amarsanghera, account deactivated at t
Jun 7, 2006
Re: Prayers of Thanksgiving

main kay deyoon tujhko
sab toh hai tera tera tera

shukar manaveve jo eh jehva
eh bhi toh hai tera tera tera

niv jave joh tere tej ke aggey
mastak bhi hai tera tera tera

kaise karoon tera shukraana
main khud hi hoon tera tera tera


Feb 25, 2008
Re: Poetry Corner

HERE IS FROM ME TO AAD JI, NAMJAP JI, AMARSANGHERA Ji ( And my dear respected spiritual FRIEND)

Diamond on the leaves

In a virgin morning
Light bright rays caress the leave of plants
Turning drops of dew into sparkling diamonds
Amazingly attractive soothing my eyes in amazement
Then quietness goes under attack of unwanted noise
A weak freeze starts and I see swinging plants
The diamonds fall down in their originality
Eyes in wonder couldn’t believe the end of the beauty
Isn’t the same path we all heading to?
They gave pleasure to my inquisitive eyes for a while
Left me wondering what do we have to offer?



Nov 6, 2004
London. UK
God of My Visions by Durlabh Singh ji

God of my vision speak
Not bounded by laws
Which hindered an ode
Of liberty to a flower
The spirit which was ever
Inconceivable yet green.

Drag me not to darkness of death
Or make me an object for others
In summarised to buy or sell
A fixed statistic in numbers
Stored in safety of the populade.

Give me newer modes
Of experience
Souls of the trees
The stars in the skies
A revolve in universe.
A grant of impassioned life
Glorious in incantation
Some unique exalted zeal.

Durlabh Singh © 2008

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Nov 6, 2004
London. UK
With daggers drawn and swords clashed of steel
With dauntless courage and linked suffering for feel
The merciful warrior forwarded amid fight and pity
For both his friends and foes
Now drenched in bloods of futility.

Frets and fears of egoism now laid aside
His only concern now became
To fight for the liberty of his mind
Not for diversions or for abandoned castled dearth
Not for the prized glory in the eyes of the world.
Driven to edge for his hatred of tyranny
He showered his message of dignity for all sundry
His hand extended for support without caste or creeds
Amid sanctity of sufferings and all hallowed deeds.

Scribing Bachittar Natak his dramatic verse
Wondrous play of nature amid works of divine
Worlds of action or of contemplation
Beyond the little thine or mine
In jungles of Trai & Machiwara his tortures confined.

Here where men hate and taste blood in consummation
Indifference in ignorance of vultured eliminations
Great loss of innocents of his sons he endured
Among bitter smites but his poise he secured
The Sant Sipahi then reluctantly took to his sword
To defend dignity of Hind against marauding hordes.

Durlabh Singh © 2008
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Feb 25, 2008

(A Short Story, dedicated to those who have hearts like the sea!)

It was a bright morning. The sun rays pierced through the window curtain and warmed his face and because of this, he woke up—though he didn’t want to. He looked at the alarm clock; it was 9 o'clock in the morning. He jumped out of bed to get ready as he had to go to job in his uncle’s fabric store. His aunt was in the kitchen preparing breakfast for him.

He tried but couldn’t forget the radiant eyes of Ambar who was introduced to him last night by his aunt. Being very shy, Ambar looked very rarely at him otherwise she kept her eyes glued on the table she was sitting around. There was a strong feeling of wanting to meet her again alone, a feeling that was enveloping him completely.
Mobin was born and raised in Calcutta. However after his fathers’ assassination by fanatics, his Mother brought him to New Delhi where he started working in the fabric shop of his father’s friend, Tahal Singh.

Hardly six months elapsed when the police caught Mobin’s friend Iqbal Mohammad with explosives. The police summoned Mobin to the police station for questioning. He knew nothing about his friend’s secretive agenda. During the interrogation he was not only suspected by the official but also warned sternly. “You guys never think India is your country, I know this. Let me tell you, I shall be watching you, and I know how to put an end to all this”. He wanted to say many things to that official but he couldn’t. His mother advised him to tell what he knew and never get into argument with police. So he kept quiet. He was beaten by the police but got spared from getting tortured when his boss Tahel Singh went there to rescue him. It was Tahel Singh who actually lectured the police inspector about Mobin’s father, who became victim of extremists just because he openly declared he would become police witness in a murder case.
When he got back home, in spite of Tahel Singh’s bold support, his mother decided to send Mobin to his father’s sister, Jamila, who was settled in Lahore, Pakistan. This was the only way out, she thought at that moment, to spare Mobin from the both evils - the Indian police and the extremists - because Mobin was the only one she had to look up to.

He felt lonely in Lahore for the next few months. However, due to the warm affection shown by his aunt, uncle and cousin, he overcame his loneliness slowly. The night before, he met Ambar and he was thrilled to see such a beautiful girl… possibly a soul mate.

As he wished, another meeting with Ambar was arranged. Ambar and her older sister met him in a park near a high school. When Ambar’s sister left, he daringly focused his eyes on her face, first time he noticed that her face was round and was glowing. The shyness he noticed during his first meeting with her was not much there now. He went to near by ice cream vender and bought ice cream of her choice. They talked about Lahore, her education and her family. She never asked anything about him as if she knew everything about him and his family. Suddenly he felt urge to hold her hand, he looked in her eyes and took her hand in his and said” Ambar, after meeting you first time, I couldn’t sleep well, believe me...”

Amber’s face turned red, she didn’t look at him at all.

He continued, “You are so beautiful, your eyes never left me, and you have taken over my dreams... This is surely… love at first sight... I hope you like me too”

She stared at him for a moment and then lowered her eyes again and said in almost a whisper, “I do.”

“Would you mind giving me your picture? I want to send it to my mother. She will be glad to see it, as she already asked for it when I told her about you. ”

“Um sure! I will,” Ambar responded bashfully.

“Would you like to visit India?” he asked.

“If you show me around.” A big smile glowed on her face, now she looked straight into his eyes.

“Ambar, it is nice country but it has lost its tolerant and secular environment, people are now more into fanaticism.”

She got serious. “Yes, it is true. Here too you will see, there are some groups always on the edge. They act as if peace is bad for society.”

“I agree, Ambar! I am glad you have a heart as big as the sky, and truly you represent your name … Ambar, the sky”

“What would have made me think otherwise?’ she asked curiously but with a broad smile on her face.

He laughed, “Nothing … don’t think that way, I am happy to hear what you have said. Actually it is the fanatics who are troublemakers. In India, there are some people who think all Muslims are against India… but it doesn’t mean all Indians think so. The father of my schoolmate, Usha, would advise me not to listen to those narrow-minded people who would say Muslims are bad. Good Muslims are as good as good Hindus.”

She smiled. “Usha, huh? How was Usha?’

“Come on Ambar, she was just a good friend of mine,” and Mobin smiled.

“Well I am just asking how she was? ” Ambar giggled.

He ignored her giggling and continued, “When they killed my father, because he became witness to a murder case, you won’t believe this. All his friends, Hindus, Sikhs and Muslims came to rescue us. Uncle Tahel Singh helped us to move to New Delhi and gave me a job, and he paid me well. His daughter, Manjit, would treat me like her own brother, Preet. Ambar, I am convinced that it is not any religion but fanatics who are poisoning society.”

Ambar turned serious and said, “I agree. This is what these fanatics do, they go on and on saying that these people are bad, and those people are bad… but look at their own religious playground.

“ I want to live in a place where these disgusting people have no say”, Mobin said.
“Don’t worry; we will be alright in Lahore. Here we have not that many fanatics, and we will not care about what they are saying”

Mobin felt proud of Ambar’s thinking, especially her appreciation for social harmony. This was the kind of girl he had hoped to marry. He was sure his mother would also love her as her daughter in law.

Mobin was not one to make many friends. He kept himself tied to his job, spending a few moments here and there with his cousin and Ambar. At the end of each week he would call his mother. That was his life now. This was the way he wanted to live.

They got engaged within a week. After seeing her picture, his mother pressed him to go ahead with the engagement because she knew Amber’s family well. Mobin’s engagement, marriage and then of course the grandchildren to come, that was her sole dream since her husband’s murder. Mobin was her world. She was planning to come to Lahore within six months to attend Mobin’s marriage. She asked Mobin and Ambar to send new pictures of the two of them to her. So Mobin thought he would have a picture taken by best photographer in town.

On his days off he would take Ambar out and they would talk together about all kinds of things. She was very good listener, very rarely would she argue with him. Sometimes he would think of his mother. Like Ambar, not only was she caring towards his father but she would also listen to him, and cooperate with him in everyway.

Just three months after the engagement, Mobin returned home after dropping Ambar off at her residence. The winter night was truly cold. It was around 8 in the evening. Mobin heard a lot of commotion near a mosque on the road nearby. People were running away from the mosque in so many different directions. Mobin was forced to slow his scooter. A few young men waved him down, and then Mobin was forced to stop. They approached, getting very close to him and asked loudly” are you Sunni or Shia?”

“Brothers, let me go,” Mobin said softly.

“First answer the question!”

“Does it matter?” He asked in a surprise.

“Yes it does!”

“Fine… I… I am Shia,” Mobin said tensely. At once one of the men leaped on him. He felt something piercing through his stomach. He fell of the scooter and staggered for moment, then collapsed. For a few moments he thought of Ambar and his mother.

Then -- complete darkness.

When Ambar heard the news, she rushed to the hospital to see Mobin. Everything seemed to fall apart before her as his cousin, crying bitterly, said to her, “Mobin has left us Ambar” And then Ambar collapsed on the ground; a wilted flower that could no longer cling to its stem. There were no tears in her eyes, and something within made her speechless. She began to think of Mobin’s mother.

She remembered what his mother had said last to her, “I am waiting for a fresh picture of both of you together, my child. Send it soon, send it now, because both of you are my world”. It was then that the tears welled up in her eyes, and Ambar began to sob loudly. Mobin’s cousin held her in his lap; he could not utter a word. All words choked.

By G. Singh


1947-2014 (Archived)
Jun 17, 2004
Original Poetry by SPN Members

Leader Note: More than once some of our respected members have published original poetry and short stories. There is real talent here among members of the forum. So from time to time you should post your poetry and short stories in this thread. That way it will be possible to have a creative writing thread and SPN authors will make the thread thrive. Whenever forum leaders find an older post with your creative writing, we would be able to copy it to this thread. (Unless of course you object!) Poems and stories in Punjabi are also encouraged! One of the amazing things about SPN -- OUR MEMBERSHIP IS AMAZING!


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Shabad Vichaar by SPN'ers

This Shabd is found on page 874 of the SGGS ji.

First, the CONTEXT.

The systematic corruption of spirituality by the clergy is a phenomenon that cuts across all major spiritual thought...

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