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One winter morning, some children amassed snow flakes and gave it a shape.
“It was reared in a chilly day” by tender hands, turned red with cold.
Two pieces of charchol fixed in place of my eyes. and a red chilly formed my mouth.
Children were happy. They have achieved something. But who knows ? Sun will make me melt.
In the evening more snow covered my body hide my black eyes and red mouth.
The little ones waited and waited but I never came to my original shape.
Sun rays perished me children forget to spot me since I was reduced to the ground leaving no trace of my existence. |
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*Born on 20th March, 1960 in Murran a village in North Kashmir, Chander M. Bhat is presently working as an Assistant Supdt. Posts, in Department of Posts, Govt. of India. His articles regarding Posts and of non-political nature stand widely published in various papers and magazines of the country. A booklet “How to Collect Stamps” published by the Department of Posts, has earned him genuine accolades. He worked on the project of tracing the roots of his co-villagers and of the village Murran, resulting into the culmination of a widely acclaimed book “Murran …My Village”. Man with depth, Chander M. Bhat has also another book, “Ocean by Drops” (collection of poems) in his vase having colorful poems. His book “Ancient History of Jammu and Kashmir”, confirms his researching capability. Various research papers like “The Splendor that is Amarnath” and “Vitasta…The Sacred River of Kashmir” are valuable additions to his works that has proved very fruitful and guiding force in the exile period of Kashmiri Pandits community of which the author is also a member. Presently the author is working on “OOL…THE NEST” a six volume project on all the 595 [each volume of about 2500 pages] Kashmiri Pandit villages of Kashmir. |
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You have taken me to childhood days, when I used to create snowman in my village Frisal [Anantnag].I thank you for taking me back to memory lane.
Added By Hari Krishan Dhar
Can I become a child again and come closer to the realities noted in the poem. It goes down to my memory lane back at Sirhama. Thanks. Pats to the author.
Added By Avtar Krishan Bhat