Ah! Raja Arshad Pulloo, Warsi, Sirhindi
When you just walk off the graveyard
After sealing the mortals of the dearest chum
Down in the belly of merciless soil,
Shall you weep, cry or just look back again and again?
How that pile of soil with two raw bricks look
Under which rests a pulse once vibrant,
A smiling face, a holy heart and a visionary.
Tuesday, January 29, 2019, the screen flashed
The news broke the bridge of my thoughts.
How it could be, Raja Arshad Warsi, Sirhindi, the best chum,
Be carried to his never returning room
And the snow from the peaks of my endurance
Wrapped the entire Vale with chilly gushes
How hard it is to believe, we all have to be carried
To that grave where our headstone reads our name.
A resident of Kalwal Mohalla Rainawari, Srinagar
A follower of Muhammad Mustafa SAW
A teacher by profession, a software engineer by passion,
A Sufi by taste and texture, a devotee by depths,
A humble human being by conduct,
A smiling quantum by gestures
And above all, a disciplined disciple of Mir Hassan Haseen
And a friend so fruitful and faithful
A loyal son, faithful husband, and inspiring brother.
Now that you reside not in your house
Behind the four walls and long curtains
But as the fragrance in the garden of your friends
In the depths of disciples
In the vast infinite of love
And yes, like a sigh in the bosom of a mother
In the silent expressions of a father
In the memories of your brothers
And above all in the prayers of your Murshid
And of course, in the verse of mine.
Your absence has sliced my silence.
Now that this void in parts irritates me
For broadcasting, this pain severe
For I read your headstone
Vibrating my love, my prayers and tears as well
May Allah shower the choicest blessings,
May you in peace be.
May your soul enjoy the bounties of Allah.
What all I can write is: I love the way you loved me.
The way you loved all
The way you treated your parents
The way you encouraged your pupils
May Lord be pleased with you.