Lal Ded of Kashmir: A Saint Poetess

Lal Ded of Kashmir: A Saint Poetess

 A Sonnet

I was born where snows and streams
Guarded earth and touched the sky;
They called me daughter, bride, and wife,
Yet truth alone called me to fly.

They clothed me in household chains,
While my heart beat wild and free;
I cast aside silk, name, and shame,
And walked the path of naked me.

The body is a clay-made vase,
It cracks, grows dry, and fades with years;
I sought the stream that never dries,
The God within, beyond all fears.

Many masters crossed my way—
Some spoke in riddles, some in flame.

 

 

The Goblins and the Shoemaker

 The Goblins and the Shoemaker

One cold winter evening, a shoemaker sat quietly at his workbench. His little shop was neat, but the shelves were almost empty. For many days, no one had come to buy his shoes.

The shoemaker looked at the small piece of leather on his table.

“Oh dear,” he said. “I have enough leather to make only one pair of shoes. I do not know what to do.”

His kind wife smiled at him.

“Do not worry,” she said. “Let us sleep now. Tomorrow may bring a new idea.”

The shoemaker cut the leather and placed the pieces carefully on the workbench. Then he and his wife went to bed.

That night, the shoemaker could not sleep. At midnight, he heard tiny footsteps near the door.

Tap! Tap! Tap!

“Who could that be?” he whispered.

He quietly looked through a small crack in the door. To his surprise, two little goblins came into the shop. They had no shoes on their feet and no warm coats on their backs.

But they had clever hands!

One goblin picked up the leather. He cut it quickly and neatly. The other goblin took a needle and thread. He stitched the pieces together.

Snip! Stitch! Tap!

The goblins worked very fast. Before long, they had made a beautiful pair of shoes. The shoes were shiny, neat, and perfect.

Then the little goblins slipped out into the night.

In the morning, the shoemaker hurried to his workbench. He could not believe his eyes.

“Look!” he called to his wife. “Someone has made these lovely shoes!”

Just then, a customer came into the shop.

“What beautiful shoes!” the customer said. “I would like to buy them.”

The customer paid a good price for the shoes. With the money, the shoemaker bought more leather.

That night, he cut the leather and placed it on the workbench again.

At midnight, the two little goblins returned. They cut, stitched, and tapped until another lovely pair of shoes was ready.

Each day, people came to buy the beautiful shoes. Soon the shoemaker had enough money to buy food, leather, and warm clothes for himself and his wife.

The shoemaker was very thankful.

“One day,” he said to his wife, “we must find a way to thank those kind little goblins.”

His wife agreed. “They have helped us so much. But they have no shoes and no warm clothes.”

So the shoemaker made two tiny pairs of shiny boots. His wife made two little coats, two hats, and two pairs of trousers.

They placed the gifts on the workbench. Then they hid nearby and waited.

At midnight, the goblins came back.

But this time, they did not find leather to cut.

They found tiny boots, warm coats, hats, and trousers!

“Oh!” cried one goblin. “These are for us!”

“They are beautiful!” said the other goblin.

The goblins put on their new clothes and shiny boots. They were warm, happy, and proud.

Then they began to dance.

Tap! Tap! Twirl! Twirl!

They danced around the workbench, across the floor, and out through the door into the snowy night.

The shoemaker and his wife never saw the goblins again.

But they always remembered the little helpers with grateful hearts.

The End

 

The Subject Saga: A Comedy in One Act

 

7-30-2026

The Subject Saga: A Comedy in One Act

By Sham Misri

(A light-hearted, expandable drama inspired by a real-life moment with granddaughter Aadya Misri, Srinagar to Seattle, 2026)

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Scene 1: The Living Room – A Lazy Sunday Afternoon

(The stage is set with a cozy living room. A comfortable armchair sits center stage. GRANDFATHER SHAM MISRI, 80s, is lounging with a cup of chai. Enter AADYA MISRI, 6 years old, holding a worksheet, her brow furrowed in concentration.)

AADYA: (rushing in) Daddy! Daddy! I need help with my homework!

SHAM: (looking up from his newspaper) Beta, I'm your Daddu ji, not Daddy. Daddy is your father. But anyway, what's the problem?

AADYA: (waving the worksheet) It's English! I have to find the "Subject" in these sentences. I don't understand!

SHAM: (chuckling) Subject? In first grade? Are they teaching grammar already?

AADYA: (nodding seriously) Yes! Look!

(She hands him the worksheet. Sham reads it aloud.)

SHAM: (reading) "Read each sentence and write the subject..."

1. The boy is collecting berries.
2. The full basket is heavy.
3. The thick woods get dark.
4. The brave boy is walking towards home.

SHAM: (smiling) Ah, this is simple, beta. Let me teach you the trick my father taught me.

AADYA: (eyes wide) Your father? My great-grandfather?

SHAM: Yes! Pt. Janki Nath Misri. He was a great teacher. He wrote many grammar books in 1958.

AADYA: (impressed) Wow! Books from before even Daddy was born?

SHAM: (laughing) Even before your Daddy's Daddy was born! Now listen carefully. To find the subject, you ask a question to the sentence. Use "Who" or "What."

AADYA: (confused) Ask a question... to a sentence?

SHAM: Yes! For example, look at the first sentence: "The boy is collecting berries." Ask yourself: Who is collecting berries?

AADYA: (thinking hard) Who... is... collecting... berries...

SHAM: And the answer is?

AADYA: (brightly) The boy!

SHAM: (clapping) Correct! The boy is the subject!

AADYA: (excited) Oh! I understand now! Can I try the rest?

SHAM: (nodding) Of course!

(Aadya sits down at the table, tongue sticking out in concentration. She writes furiously. Sham watches with amusement.)

AADYA: (after a few minutes) Done!

SHAM: (picking up the worksheet) Let's see...

(He reads her answers and bursts out laughing.)

SHAM: (wiping tears from his eyes) Aadya! What have you written?

AADYA: (innocently) The answers!

SHAM: (reading) For sentence 1: "The boy is collecting berries." You wrote: "Hain!"

AADYA: (nodding) Yes! Because you said, "Who is collecting berries?" and I said "Hain!" Like when you ask me "Aadya, are you ready?" and I say "Hain!"

SHAM: (laughing harder) Oh beta! "Hain" is not the subject! It's "The boy!"

AADYA: (confused) But... but you asked a question!

SHAM: (trying to control his laughter) Yes, but "Hain" is not the answer! Let's see the others...

(He reads the rest of her answers.)

SHAM: Sentence 2: "The full basket is heavy." You wrote: "Hain!"

Sentence 3: "The thick woods get dark." You wrote: "Hain!"

Sentence 4: "The brave boy is walking towards home." You wrote: "Hain!"

(He looks at her, still laughing.)

SHAM: All four answers are "Hain"!

AADYA: (proudly) Consistency!

SHAM: (shaking his head) Oh, this is precious! I must show this to your parents!

AADYA: (worried) No! Don't show them! They'll scold me!

SHAM: (winking) Don't worry, beta. This is comedy gold!

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Scene 2: The Parents Enter – Panic Mode

(Enter MOM and DAD, both looking stressed. Mom is holding an iPhone, Dad is carrying a Mac Pro laptop.)

MOM: (anxiously) Aadya! How's your homework? The school starts in one week! We need to make sure you're ready!

AADYA: (hiding behind Daddu Ji (Sham) Dada is helping me!

DAD: (relieved) Oh good! Dad, you're a teacher. You'll make sure she understands.

SHAM: (grinning) Oh, she understands perfectly. She's just... creative.

MOM: (suspiciously) What do you mean?

SHAM: (handing her the worksheet) See for yourself.

(Mom takes the worksheet and reads it. Her eyes widen.)

MOM: (gasping) "Hain"? All four answers are "Hain"?

DAD: (taking the worksheet) What? Let me see... (reading) "Hain, Hain, Hain, Hain"... (he starts laughing)

MOM: (not laughing) This is not funny! She's starting school in one week! What will the teacher think?

DAD: (still laughing) Maybe the teacher will think she's very enthusiastic!

MOM: (scolding) Aadya! This is serious! You can't write "Hain" for everything!

AADYA: (teary-eyed) But Dada (Daddu Ji) said to ask a question!

MOM: (to Sham) What did you teach her?

SHAM: (defensively) I taught her the right method! She just... misinterpreted it!

DAD: (laughing) This is classic! "Hain" is the universal answer!

MOM: (frustrated) Dad, this is not the time to laugh! She needs to learn properly!

SHAM: (raising his hand) Calm down! I'll teach her properly. But first, let me tell you about my father...

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Scene 3: The Story of Pt. Janki Nath Misri

(Sham sits back in his chair, gesturing for everyone to sit. The family gathers around him.)

SHAM: In 1958, your great-grandfather, Pt. Janki Nath Misri, published a series of grammar books. They were graded from primary to high school.

DAD: (curious) What were they called?

SHAM: "English Grammar Through Hindi/Urdu/Kashmiri." He believed that to learn English, you needed to understand it in your mother tongue.

MOM: (interested) That makes sense.

SHAM: He taught us that to find the subject, you ask "Who" or "What" to the sentence. For example: "The boy is collecting berries." Who is collecting berries? The boy. So "The boy" is the subject.

AADYA: (nodding) So I should have written "The boy," not "Hain!"

SHAM: (laughing) Exactly! "Hain" is what you say when you agree, not the answer!

DAD: (grinning) But it's a very honest answer! She was agreeing with the sentence!

MOM: (finally smiling) OK, OK. But how do we fix this?

SHAM: Simple! I'll teach her properly. But first, let's make this fun!

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Scene 4: The Grammar Game

(Sham stands up, turning the lesson into a game.)

SHAM: OK, Aadya! Let's play a game! I'll say a sentence, and you ask "Who" or "What" and find the subject!

AADYA: (excited) OK!

SHAM: Sentence 1: "The dog is barking." Who is barking?

AADYA: (thinking) Who... is... barking... The dog!

SHAM: Correct! What's the subject?

AADYA: The dog!

SHAM: Excellent! Sentence 2: "The cake is delicious." What is delicious?

AADYA: What... is... delicious... The cake!

SHAM: Perfect! You're getting it!

MOM: (relieved) Oh, she's learning!

DAD: (teasing) But will she still write "Hain" on the test?

AADYA: (giggling) No! I'll write the right answer!

SHAM: That's my girl! Now, let's do your homework properly!

(Aadya sits down and rewrites her answers correctly. The family watches proudly.)

AADYA: (after finishing) Done!

SHAM: (reading) 1. The boy. 2. The full basket. 3. The thick woods. 4. The brave boy. Perfect!

MOM: (hugging Aadya) I'm so proud of you!

DAD: (grinning) But I still think "Hain" should be an acceptable answer!

MOM: (laughing) Only in Misri family grammar!

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Scene 5: The Epilogue – A Note from the Author

(Sham steps forward, addressing the audience directly.)

SHAM: And so, the subject saga came to a happy end. Aadya learned her grammar, the parents calmed down, and I got to relive my childhood lessons from my father.

(He pauses, smiling.)

SHAM: You see, grammar isn't just about rules. It's about connections. My father taught me Hindi and Urdu. I'm teaching Aadya in English. But the method is the same: ask a question, find the answer, understand the logic.

(He gestures to the family, who are now laughing and playing together.)

SHAM: And sometimes, the wrong answers are the best memories. "Hain" may not be the subject, but it's definitely the spirit of our family!

(He winks at the audience.)

SHAM: After all, in the grammar of life, love is the subject, laughter is the predicate, and family is the complete sentence!

(The family gathers for a group hug as the lights fade.)

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THE END

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Author's Note:

This drama is dedicated to:

• Pt. Janki Nath Misri (1958), whose grammar books taught generations of Kashmiri students.
• Aadya Misri, the 6-year-old inspiration, who will join first grade in Seattle in August 2026.
• All parents who panic when their children write "Hain" for every answer.

Moral of the story: Sometimes the wrong answers teach us the right lessons. And "Hain" is always the right answer when someone asks, "Do you love your family?"

Hain!

(Curtain falls. Audience applauds.)

Sham Misri, Seattle,

Washington, USA

7-30-2026

A Prayer for Mercy

 A Prayer for Mercy

Do me justice, Merciful One,
My searching heart has found none.
I looked in every road and place,
Yet longed to see Your loving face.

Come one night, my dearest Friend,
My grief feels heavy without end.
Show me Your face, just once, I pray;
Compassionate One, light up my way.

My rivals blame; my spirit cries,
O Heavenly One, hear my sighs.
For long I have stood at Your door,
Waiting, waiting—evermore.

Beloved One, please come to me,
Set this tired heart peaceful and free.
Poor Sham calls, “My Shiva, hear—
Bring justice, love, and peace near.”

Sham Misri

Washington, USA

Krishna and Wheel of Time

 Part 1: The Sworn Enemy

Kamsa was the cruel king of Mathura and the maternal uncle of Lord Krishna. A divine voice had once warned him that he would be killed by the eighth son of his sister Devaki. Filled with fear, Kamsa tried to stop this from happening, but destiny cannot be escaped. When Krishna was born and grew up, he returned to Mathura and defeated Kamsa, ending his tyranny.

Jarasandha was the mighty king of Magadha, a kingdom known for its strength and wealth. He admired Kamsa’s courage and gave his two daughters, Asti and Prapti, in marriage to him. This made Kamsa Jarasandha’s son-in-law. When Krishna killed Kamsa, Jarasandha was filled with rage and grief. His daughters were now widows, and his pride was deeply wounded. He swore to destroy Krishna and avenge his son-in-law’s death.

From that day, Jarasandha became Krishna’s most relentless enemy. He gathered huge armies and marched again and again toward Mathura. Sometimes he came alone; other times he brought other angry kings with him. Each time, the battlefield shook with the sound of horses, chariots, and war cries. And each time, Krishna and his brother Balarama stood firm, protecting their people.

The dust would rise. The conch shells would blow. Arrows would fill the sky like dark clouds. But no matter how large Jarasandha’s army was, Krishna’s skill and wisdom turned the battle in his favor. Soldiers fell. Generals fled. And Jarasandha, though powerful, was forced to retreat.

Yet, after every victory, Krishna did something that puzzled everyone. He did not kill Jarasandha. He let him escape.

Balarama could not understand it. After the first few battles, he asked Krishna, “Brother, why do you spare him? He will only return again, stronger and angrier. Why not end this now?”

Krishna smiled gently. “If I kill him today,” he said, “the other hostile kings will scatter in fear. Then I will have to chase them one by one, across many lands. But as long as Jarasandha lives, he gathers them together. He brings my enemies to one place, as if he is helping me without knowing it. Why should I stop a man who is doing my work for me?”

Balarama was silent. He began to see that Krishna’s mercy was not weakness. It was part of a larger plan.