We are witnessing not just the collapse of peace, but the slow, suffocating death of collective conscience.
From Sudan’s scorched villages to Gaza’s shattered streets, from Yemen’s starved cities to Myanmar’s bloody countryside, and now to Kashmir’s trembling borders — the world is breaking into
We search for life’s hidden meaning,
Unraveling the secrets unseen.
Miss Neeta J. Lalwani, a poetess from Ulhasnagar, India shares her two Sindhi poems with English translation
Neeta J. Lalwani is based in Ulhasnagar, Thane, Maharashtra state of India. By profession, she is teacher. Her poems are published in Hindvasi
To let ignorance rule is to let decay set in. But to nurture reason, even in the darkest of times, is to light a fire that can guide generations.
Sindh, with its rich heritage of learning from Shah Latif to Sachal Sarmast, must remember that its true strength has never been in power or wealth, but in wisdom.
Let us choose the harder
Nostalgia
Insects’ cries,
Even the weeping of blood,
Fade away on the wooded hills,
Each night silence sweeps over them like waves across a desert.
The nostalgia soaked into my body paints my old hometown
The rice field ridges,
The furrowed ditches.
When twilight brims over,
Children who tended and herded
Not all promises are fulfilled the way we expect. Sometimes, what we never receive becomes the reason we rise the highest.
In a quiet village nestled beside the winding waters of the Rohri Canal, where the soil smelled of wheat and river silt, lived the Manjhi family. Their life was humble, stitched together by simplicity, love, and
