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Mirza Sharafat Hussain Beigh

Updated: Sat, 3 Jul 2021 07:46 am


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Mirza Sharafat Hussain Beigh, born 19 september 1994 in a well known Shia Muslim family is a poet well known as masochist kashmiri writer, sometimes claimed by some as ghost writer, an ardent media presenter and mass communication student from an old town of Srinagar, in the summer capital of Jammu and Kashmir. Sharafat is a young English/Urdu poetry writer, an Elegist and a professional obituary writer. More specially he is well known for Kashmiri Noha recitation (Public Recitation) in Grand Muharram (Ashura) Procession of Kashmir's Markazi Jaloos-e-Ashoora, leading the Zuljanah Contingent with his ancestral elegies. Mirza is currently serving as communication manger in one of the reputed corporation of Srinagar. Sharafat Hussain Beigh, born into a Shia Muslim family of Nowpora in September 1994 given his name Sharafat meaning 'decency', Hussain is referring to third shia Imam Hussain Ibn Ali. Mirza And Beigh is that of a popular Shia tribe of sonwar which later migrated to Nowpora. He grew up at his house in Nowpoar, Doulat Abad. He live with his parents and elder sister. He affectionately referred to the house in Nowpora as Beigh Bhawan. Sharafat Hussain Beigh was educated in large part by his father who is well celebrated Kashmiri elegy writer of Kashmir valley and noted among shia community. Mirza Sharafat is presently pursuing LLB from Kashmir University,and has post graduate degree in Mass Communication and Journalism from University of Kashmir.


night has enveloped, to give me some relief now invisible are walls of separation, and thy grief where blood quenches the thirst disloyalty is faith last and first is the religion my beloved belongs to I beckoned, red and black robed lady with a wand let me take her by the hand heard of her about sorcery her powers useless, and witch now about to succumb from just a gaze of eyes filled with Kohl of Leila my nights worthless, body breathless every moment, feeling restless be silent and hear, hear me, my cries don't forget the promise you swore I have lost my childhood over you don't know, how these years left me alone sufferings, separation, theft me alone I never knew how pain excrutiates sometimes, i enlivened you my dear Love is a blessing, and not a fear in a melancholy cloudy day, I mourn glistening eyes, weeping sky, and heart torn I gaze from a window in Kashmir For a moment, condoling the tragedy, sighing In sombre time, lifeless, as if dying

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Wed 16th Sep 2020 07:54

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