#31 2018 Blog #5 2018 “A Glympse” Pp de-Aanand Poet Ruhail Andrabi

“A Glympse” Pp de-Aanand  Poet Ruhail Andrabi 

new 2018 logo A Glympse

With an eye patched, i reflect a poet’s thought…transgressing  his many writings… blading threading weaving one by one, every word phrase verse paragraph, until the silhouette of his absolute soul existence crystalizes… and see the multi-faceted brilliance of his works in its perfect purity.__all poets are my lovers [males /females], they are not to be meagre seeds, but rather some spring sprouts clamouring their vines to reach an endless end; i have a need to hear not only his tickling ink voices, but also to chew the “unreal”, the intractable… i need to be dragged to utterance than into analysis; i need to be bolted dazed into a paralytic plane… when i meet a person, i catch his eyes… read what it says, dissect its movements, imprison its thoughts, dig deeper into its structural despot_thereby, my imagination starts to paint sculpt draw a discursive portrait!


 As i have mentioned in my Dotism Blog #29: (an excerpt) 

ade logo dotism discourse 26 1pril 2018

“This temporal concept of Past Present Future is very much misconstrued…  PAST will forever be a part and will play an  important role as the shaper, the maker. the formulator of the now, (present); which  is just a thought of the past and an illusion and planning of the intended future.”

The early life exposure, the daily passing scenes, the routinely dripping sounds, would strongly influence one’s behaviour  whether in literature, sociology, medicine, history, education, in this as well as in laws. One day, a poem was posted in my private messenger, requesting that i read and give my comment:

Who will knock my door 

In the middle of the night,

When I play with my inner demons

In the desert of despair?

Who will play with my ugly shadow

In the starry night,

Under the shading moonlight?

Who will sing a song

For my roasted soul,

In the cursing evening 

Of the fading autumn?

Who will breathe in the rural flute of my heart,

To unleash me from myself

In the garden of solitude?

Ah! I’m a lifeless entity now,

Caught in the Icicles of fate;

Waiting for the redemption

 to get released from the 

fangs of immortal death.

My hopes faded away 

in the frozen rivers of universe.

I can see, my soul is trapped

 in the labyrinth of hopelessness.

On the downtrodden woods of my being

I destroyed my own home.

In this serpentine Odyssey of Life,

I’m now a lost  traveller;

A stranger within my own Universe!

by: Ruhail Andrabi


 Ruhail Andrabi,   


22age young, the an only son in a Kashmir family home… in his fiery poetic flame of thoughts, he thrashes   every letter of words to sound the poignant limping spirit he tries to understand.

I started my schooling from a local government school in Jammu and Kashmir, Pulwama district. From childhood I was fascinated by the rhymes and the using of words in the poems. Once I completed my 12th standard I got inspired by two poems one from Robert Frosts poem ‘Road Not Taken and Gabriel Okaras poem “Once Upon A Time”. I started to read poems of Rumi, Hafiz,  Saadi, then Oscar Wilde and Milton. My all time favourite poem is Invictus William Ernest Henley. I wrote my first poem during my post graduation then I never stopped writing. Whenever, I write poems because it liberates me from the sufferings and unbearable pain of world.

“In this serpentine Odyssey of Life, 

I’m now a lost  traveller; 

A stranger within my own Universe!”

i feel the tight beats of heart, the pinch-pressed  flesh, that cocoon the soul of this young man, whose intellect can’t be ignored, gads, had he been born in a rich country, he would have become a social drug user… but here this young man eat every slices of sadness and turn it to his aesthete philosophy of life.

Kashmir is a beautiful country whose life has been a sandwiched-dispute between India and Pakistan since 1947 when India partitioned along religious lines, which lead to the formation of India and Pakistan.. When the British left India, the Hindu King of Kashmir decided to choose a side… India, but Pakistan has been in contest of this, due to its large number of Muslims in Kashmir. This is the exposure that affects the young mind of Ruhail Andrabi. His poetries are all excellent in its signification of the signified, his poetic languages are sculpted in its simple intelligible, aesthetically connected words.

From the river of Jhelum

To the river of Ganga,

It’s full of tears

That flowed through my barren cheeks

To the cheeks of your innocence

To mourn the death

Of some uncountable poems-

Where every word

Of every single verse

Conceals my love so eternal,

On the shattered floor of time

By the arrows of your apathy.

My love!

Your face is my temple

Where my roasted soul indite poems,

Just to show

My love is mad

And I’m intoxicated by this madness.

But, lo! 

My words can no more

Inhume the arrows of your callousness;

Come and sprinkle over me

Some drops of benevolence

With a cup of hemlock,

That’ll cease this mad heart

From vomiting 

Those countless words of love,

That this nonchalant world

Name as poems!

I’m a dried river now

Without any jubilant Lark

Singing the hovering 

mist of my morning;

The breezes of silence

Has also abandoned me,

It has fled away

Back to the snowcapped 

mountains of winter,

Leaving me here to 

anxiously await

The first gleaming 

streaks of light,

Of the salubrious spring,

To melt all the

 glaciers of despair-

Holding the tales of my

 bloody insomniac nights,

To brim my parched banks

With salubrious flows,

That will wash away

All the sufferings of 

the painful autumn.

Now I know it’s too late

To love you again

This heart is frozen entity now

Half Dead  in your memories

You told me

I will be back but I can only

See  only darkness all around

and a Universe without the 

Sunlight of your love

You left me in the middle

Of nowhere but you didn’t know

Your absence will make me more 

Strong now 

I mourn your absence

Deep down in the naked bushes

Of Autumn 

My heart is scattered over the 

Colours of autumn

Please come and compile it 

Long ago dear Beloved I sent 

you love letters

Through the tears of my eyes

So that you will feel there

Is a little love left in my eye drops

For you.You didn’t respond! 

How brutal you are? 

You broke me again

And I found my home.

Why didn’t you come to rescue me

From the curse of this cursing death?!

I travelled in the caravan of death

Only to die in the temple of Love,

I got blue scars inscribed on my face 

As tattoos of love;

I split my filthy drops of blood 

On this parched soil,

That was ashamed to inhume them,

Only to watch your soothing face

In the twilight waters of melancholy.

But, you didn’t come.

My longing was metamorphosed as eternal longing,

That brought the painful dawn of my ending;

Where I witnessed myself dying.


As I am reduced into ashes,

Don’t come to my bloody funeral 

Let my sins be the symbol of my coffin

And my eternal pain as the prayer

all poems by: Ruhail Andrabi


critical analyses

by Cijo Joseph Chennelil 


Critic, Author, Writer, Poet, Professor

PP D’Aanand Administrative Officer 




Your poems are suffused with ideas related to individual’s relentless and restless struggles in this existential, fleeting and temporary world, the individual is tossed around the turbulent waters of life trying to locate his/her identity, here the identity is lost in the wilderness of this mesmerising world of no return, the individual here is in constant search for a solid ground of truth, brotherhood, trust, tolerance and love to stand on, but that is hard to come by, the identity crisis gone through by the individual here is a sign or manifestation of the internal turmoil, the human beings are subjected to in this world of half truths, new normalities and post-truths, the metamorphosed self goes through myriad emotions to comprehend the complexities and intricacies of this world, but still that discernment eludes or evades him/her and he/she stands exposed and unmasked, the dos and donts of the society weigh down the naturality, authenticity, originality, actuality and spontaneity of the individual concerned, but that fighting so innate in the individual self comes to the surface here leaps and bounds, even the traces of betrayal are narrated here wherein the individual goes through an entanglement of the highest order, but the end result of it is not so rewarding or revitalising rather it bestows upon the self despondency, lamentation and eternal deprivation or impoverishment in terms of the happiness and joy of the self, at the end, the individual here is caught up in various pushes and pulls coming from different self- contradictory quarters and the individual concerned strives hard to make sense of it all or to reconcile with all these discordant voices.Kudos to you for composing such poems of remarkably poignant nature.

Cijo Joseph Chennelil Kuravilangad.The Head of the English Department,Kristu Jyoti College Changanasserry, Kottayam, Kerala, India. All Copyrights Reserved@On 31st May 2018.



 Dr Jernail S Aanand 


Poet Philosopher Writer Author

PP D’Aanand… President Founder

I have gone through the poetry of Ruhail Andrabi, a poet from northern region of India. His verses carry the pain of existence made difficult with political intersections. The pat says in great pain… I have killed so many poems…and there us a river if tears and sighs between the Jhelum and the Ganges.  Such poetry which carries human suffering and mental anguish ends up giving the reader a rare cathartic joy. I welcome the young man to Philosophique POÉTICA  and hope the poetry that is flowing from the fountains of pain will bring solace and peace to bruised  hearts on both sides. Somebody is at fault… if doleful sings are at play. Let us take a torch and through the darkness of despair, move into the throes and plug the rivers of tomorrow at their mouth. Love these poems. Good wishes to the poet. 



ade caparas manilah 

ade logo dotism discourse 26 1pril 2018

Poet Designer Artist Author

PP D’Aanand… Co-Founder



mobile: +61419643535

Currently, Ruhail Andrabi is in pursuit of his PHD, and a Research assistant in Jawaharlal Nehru University, I wish you success, more power Ruhail Andrabi, the world needs more young people like you. God bless you.

ade caparas manilah

wednesday 4:34pm 30 may 2018

sydney nsw australia

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