The Wounded Sparrow by Midhat Majeed
A system born from history’s wounded womb,
Through centuries, it was finally made to bloom,
Where dreamers dared to craft a strong design,
String by string, their voices had aligned,
Each wound laid bare, each voice held the same light.
But now, we stand fractured, divided by a dark night.
A place where common songs were sung together,
Now with every glance, those feathers fall apart,
The thread once woven with a tender grace.
The sparrows are in the fray of a fractured space,
The fowler targets the innocence of their being,
Promising the “better days”, forever guaranteeing
Now our system lies here broken and rotten,
Its dreamers beaten and long forgotten,
The monsters are ruling the trembling sky,
No, you aren’t allowed to question “why?”
Yet the truth shall prevail beyond the dark,
Peace and justice will kindle their spark,
I long for my sky to be sovereign again,
May the sparrows break free from their chains again.
Midhat Majeed is a B.A. (Honours with Research) student in Political Science. She is deeply interested in observing the silent politics embedded in everyday life, ranging from social hierarchies and power structures to the unspoken norms that shape individual and collective behavior. While her academic focus lies in global power dynamics and how politics shapes the lives of minorities and women, her curiosity extends beyond textbooks and into lived realities.
What I Refused to Read by Firdaus Bashir
She was not the soul I was meant to find,
Yet she stayed long enough to make me blind.
I buried sentences of separation;
She built a bridge over the grave.
Her letters spoke before her voice ever did,
each line carrying a quiet truth.
Her warnings were not cruel—
They were gentle, deliberate, clear.
I was the one who stayed,
She never lied—
Yet in every sentence
She was already asking me to leave.
Her words were both armour and verse.
I clung to her final sentence
as if it could erase
all the warnings written before it.
I chose blindness.
She chose to walk away clean,
leaving me with the truth
I refused to read.
Firdous Bashir, is currently pursuing a BA Honours in Economics at Government Degree College Pampore, Pulwama.
Dawn in Eclipse by Soumita Bhattacharjee
Oh, down I go, far, far away…
In the midst of hopeless promises,
In the garden of silence and unpaid goodbyes,
In the foam of the deep sea,
In the night of roaring chaos,
From where there’s nowhere to flee.
I stand at the shore, hoping to be rescued,
I stand with a light not so dim.
I wonder often, is there nothing
To share in blues scheming ripples.
I think I can get to live and gather my pieces
Oh no, there I go, drowning again and again.
The foam dances, the crickets stare.
I keep fighting the wave,
Which seemed to keep my heart empty and awake.
I tried taking in the sweet despair,
And there –
Oh no wait!
I can breathe again.
I quivered with the thought of
Drowning again and again.
The moonlight shines with a flicker of hope.
The shore is filled with love and lore,
But mine seems to pass by, though,
As if nothing had happened on these nights.
My eyes heavy, as was my heart;
Your thoughts were there, still in a haze,
But I lost the time to keep myself in a cage.
No more drowning,
No more harm,
No more looking for someone to charm.
And there I go with the flow of the sea;
But dancing now, I float
And drown no more in the deep sea.
An emerging poet whose verses drift through the unspoken spaces of the heart, Soumita tries to uncover the quiet, hidden emotions that often go unnoticed, transforming them into delicate lines that echo long after they’re read. Her work captures the softness of silence, the weight of untold feelings, and the beauty of vulnerability.
Parcham Online 
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