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Kashaf Ul Eman Poem
The sun rose gently, soft and warm,
But the house feels quiet, missing her charm.
Eid mornings filled with light and grace,
Now hold echoes of her smiling face.
She'd sit by the door, hands soft and old,
A shawl wrapped tight against the cold.
Her eyes would shine with joy anew,
As we lined up, eager for what we knew.
A crisp ten-rupee note, folded with care,
Slipped into our hands with a loving stare.
To the world, it was small – just a simple bill,
But in our hearts, it holds value still.
We’d run and laugh, feeling so grand,
That tiny treasure safe in hand.
To her, it wasn’t the amount she gave,
But the love and blessings that she saved.
Now Eid arrives, but she’s not here,
Her absence is sharp, yet love draws near.
I close my eyes and I can see,
Her gentle smile, watching over me.
The ten rupees may fade away,
But the memories will always stay.
Her kindness lingers, soft and deep,
A love eternal, ours to keep.
So as we gather, side by side,
We know she’s with us, full of pride.
And every Eid, in hearts and prayer,
We found our great-grandmother there.
Copyright © Kashaf Ul eman | Year Posted 2025
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Kashaf Ul Eman Poem
Through the dark, I find my way,
Night may linger, but not stay.
Every scar, a tale I keep,
Mountains move where shadows sleep.
Copyright © Kashaf Ul eman | Year Posted 2025
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Kashaf Ul Eman Poem
In the quiet of the darkest night,
When hope seems lost from our sight,
A whisper rises, soft but true—
We are not alone; I stand with you.
Through storms that break the tallest trees,
And winds that bring us to our knees,
The power of hands joined tight,
Can turn the darkest hour into light.
Our hearts may break, our spirits fall,
But together we rise, standing tall.
In each other’s eyes, we find the strength,
To heal the wounds, to go the length.
For unity is a flame that burns,
It flickers, yes, but always returns.
A bond that no force can erase,
A shared heartbeat, a shared grace.
So when the world feels too much to bear,
When the weight of sorrow fills the air,
Remember this: we’re not alone—
In unity, we find our home.
Copyright © Kashaf Ul eman | Year Posted 2025
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Kashaf Ul Eman Poem
She rises with the morning sun,
A warrior’s heart, a battle won.
Through storm and silence, light and shade,
She builds the world, yet stays unswayed.
Her hands have shaped both stone and sky,
Yet whispers doubt still pass her by.
But let them fade, for she is strong,
A force of love, a battle song.
Not bound by chains, nor fear, nor past,
She dreams, she dares, she speaks at last.
For every voice once hushed away,
She stands, she shines—she leads the way.
So here’s to her, today, always,
Not just in words, but lasting praise.
For every woman, bold and free,
The world is hers—so let it be!
Happy International Women’s Day!
Copyright © Kashaf Ul eman | Year Posted 2025
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Kashaf Ul Eman Poem
When silence breaks with a siren's cry,
And ash clouds darken the morning sky,
Two nations rise with wrathful might,
Blind to peace, prepared to fight.
Where rivers flowed through fields so wide,
Now burn with rage on either side.
Flags once fluttered in monsoon air,
Now mark the graves of young laid bare.
The tanks roll in, the bombers fly,
The missiles arc across the sky.
Steel and fire tear the dawn apart,
Each strike a wound to the human heart.
And then the flash — a blinding white,
Day turns to dusk, and noon to night.
Mushroom clouds in dreadful bloom,
Cities fall in silent gloom.
No victors left, no songs to sing,
Only echoes of what war will bring:
Children charred, and mothers weep,
Fathers buried in endless sleep.
The air is poison, the soil is dead,
The living envy those who bled.
No border now, just common pain,
Shared by the ash and acid rain.
What was it for — this fatal pride,
That turned the world to suicide?
India, Pakistan — names now lost,
To power's game and mankind’s cost.
Oh leaders drunk on hate and fear,
Is this the glory you held dear?
Let this be written, carved in stone:
Peace is a seed, war reaps a tomb.
Copyright © Kashaf Ul eman | Year Posted 2025
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Kashaf Ul Eman Poem
Beneath a sky once soft and blue,
Now painted smoke, a darker hue,
The cries of children split the air
A lullaby of deep despair.
The earth, it shakes with fire and flame,
But none can tell the world who’s to blame,
Innocence lies in crimson pools,
While tyrants play with warlike tools.
A mother holds a lifeless hand,
A father searches through the sand,
A baby’s toy, a shattered shoe
Reminders of the life they knew.
The angels weep as souls take flight,
Torn from sleep into the night.
They rise, like stars against the black,
But dreams don’t soar;they’re pulled right back.
For every blast that scorches skies,
Another child stops asking "why."
The sky rains down not hope, but fear,
And silence follows every tear.
Gaza burns, the world turns blind,
Yet echoes linger in mankind.
A prayer for peace, a mournful sound,
As broken hearts fall back to ground.
Let not their deaths be lost in sand,
The blood of Gaza stains our hands.
Speak, until the silence ends,
Till bombs give way to peace again.
Copyright © Kashaf Ul eman | Year Posted 2025
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Kashaf Ul Eman Poem
She walked with dreams in her gentle eyes,
A future lit beneath morning skies.
But shadows crept where light should stay,
And stole her breath, her hopes, away.
Sawera’s name, now etched in pain,
A flower drowned beneath the rain.
Not by fate, not by some twist,
But by hands that evil kissed.
What justice lies in silence kept?
While mothers grieve, and sisters wept?
Where were the laws meant to protect,
When dignity met such neglect?
She wasn’t weak;she was betrayed,
By a world where monsters roam unafraid.
By voices that should rise, yet hide,
While another girl's light is pushed aside.
So hear us now, and hear us loud,
We will not bow, we will not crowd.
Justice isn’t just a prayer,
It’s action sparked from deep despair.
For Sawera, and girls like she,
We ask the world: let justice be.
Not just in words, not just in tears,
But in a world where they outgrow fears.
Raise your voice. Break the chain.
No more Saweras. No more pain.
Copyright © Kashaf Ul eman | Year Posted 2025
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Kashaf Ul Eman Poem
With healing hands and hearts so bright,
They stand for us in darkest night.
Through trials fierce and battles long,
Their courage sings a steadfast song.
In sterile halls where pain resides,
They fight for life on shifting tides.
Through weary eyes and sleepless calls,
They answer when the helpless falls.
A stethoscope, their mighty sword,
A voice of hope, their true reward.
They mend the wounds, they ease the pain,
Yet seldom do they once complain.
On this day, we bow in grace,
To those who heal, to those who chase
The specter dark of death away,
And gift us yet another day.
So let us cheer, let us proclaim,
The ones who serve in love’s pure name.
For doctors stand, through thick and thin—
A world of hope, because of them.
Happy World Doctors' Day!
Copyright © Kashaf Ul eman | Year Posted 2025
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Kashaf Ul Eman Poem
In December's chilling, silent air,
Echoed a grief too great to bear,
Empty chairs, where laughter sat,
A nation's heart, forever flat.
The books lay open, untouched, unread,
Dreams were shattered, tears were shed,
Small hands that held pencils bright,
Now lost forever to the night.
No words could heal the broken cries,
No comfort soothed those weeping eyes,
Yet in their courage, we must see,
The spirit of unity, strong and free.
We hold their memories close, we swear,
To build a world more just, more fair,
O children lost on that cruel day,
In our hearts, you'll always stay.
Copyright © Kashaf Ul eman | Year Posted 2025
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Kashaf Ul Eman Poem
To hands that toil from dawn till night,
In sun's harsh blaze or fading light,
You build the world we proudly see,
With silent strength and dignity.
You mend the roads, you sow the land,
With weathered skin and calloused hands.
Your sweat is ink on history's page,
Your spirit—brave, no gilded cage.
No marble hall, no silver throne,
Can stand without the stone you've thrown.
Each brick you lay, each crop you tend,
Is proof of love that doesn't bend.
You are the heart, the pulse, the flame,
Too long unsung, too often unnamed.
But on this day, we lift you high,
Beneath the flag, beneath the sky.
May justice walk where you have led,
May fair reward meet daily bread.
The world may rest, the rich may play,
Because you rise each breaking day.
For all you've given, all you've done,
For battles lost and victories won,
We thank you now with humbled grace;
The world is better for your place.
Copyright © Kashaf Ul eman | Year Posted 2025
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