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Something else

No its not writer's block Its something else Just wondering why am I not writing much these days!

Tuesday, December 24, 2013

سبب




جلتی آنکھوں میں چند راتیں
بجھتے خوابوں میں چند صبحیں
مہکتی سانسوں میں چند لمحے
سلگتی یادوں میں چند شامیں

!بے سبب نہیں تھیں

دسمبر کی اس شام میں جسے
سارے منظر ٹھہر گئے ہیں
راتیں، صبحیں ، لمحے ، شامیں
زیست کا اب عنوان ہوئی ہیں
میرا کچھ سامان ہوئی ہیں


Sabab

Jalti ankhon main  chand ratein
Bujhtay khwaboN main chand subhein
Mehakti SansoN main chand lamhay
Sulagti yadon main chand shameinN
Bay sabab nahiN theeN! 

Sunday, December 22, 2013

One Moment.

Between un-clarity and visibility
between un-certainty and surety
Arises an special moment when
dreams become reality,
That one moment in time.

Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Of moments and memories.

In the palm of my fist,
I am holding on to moments.
Moments that when passed on,
will be added as an ornament
to the treasure-box of memories.

Monday, December 16, 2013

Ray of Hope

When begins to appear, expands exponentially,
scatter exhilaration, ironically
all for such a short while,
This tiny Ray of hope.


Friday, December 13, 2013

Canvas

Sometimes through the windows of someones eyes,
The canvas of life appears more beautiful.

Thursday, December 5, 2013

December

As the coffee gets steamier 
and the blanket gets cozier
as the night feels longer
and we being closer
Know then that
December has arrived.


Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Parveen ..... For Your Fragrance.

You can not be perfect in every sense of the word, but You could be among such few people who are blessed in many ways.

For beauty and brains, for talents and guts, for intelligence and  manners are rarely combined in a person, and if they do, those are specialized people. There were many who were succumbed to the charms of Parveen Shakir, for she was beautiful and daring, for she was all a woman could dream of being, yet there was just one, she was madly in love with and for whom she wrote her fragrant poetry.

She left too early, but her fragrance shall always be missed.


وہ صورت آشنا میرا 

میں اس کے سامنے 
چپ رہ کے بھی یوں بات  کرتی ہوں 
کہ آنکھوں کا کوئی حرف بدن نہ آشنا 
آلودہ پیکر  نہیں ہوتا 
ہوا کی لہر پر جب گفتگو ہو 
خواہ موسم پر میرا اظہار ہو 
یا ٹیلی ویژن پر 
وہ مرے لمحہ موجود کا دکھ جان لیتا ہے 
مجھے پہچان لیتا ہے 
میری ہر بات کا چہرہ نہ دیکھنے پر بھی 
وہ صوررت آشنا میرا 
مرے لہجوں کے پس  منظر سمجھتا ہے !



Saturday, November 23, 2013

Sleep

At times in the arms of a favorite dream we tend to sleep like a baby and don't want to wake up.
These are the rare times when sleep becomes very dear to an insomniac.

Thursday, November 21, 2013

Fog

The tangible becomes intangible
The visible goes in visible
as the fog of your memory
slowly, deliberately,intensely
Envelopes around me.

Blessed

When every hour is a rushing hour
When every minute demands attention
When the body gets ache and
When the soul is being neglected
In this quickly evaporating time
If You find a few moments to spend
With Yourself
Believe You me
You are blessed.

The forty Rules

"The way to a man's heart can sometimes take a woman far away from herself my dear." Desert Rose said ominously.

"I don't care." I said. "I am ready to go as far as it takes."

The forty rules of love

Elif Shafak

Tuesday, November 19, 2013

Of Superficial and Deep.

There are superficial and deep categories.
of behaviors, gestures, smiles and words.

Superficial was not for me.
Deeper asked me to explore.

For once I think Superficial is better.
You know You run off.
As fast as that.

For once I feel Deep is risky.
It attracts, drag you inside along its depth,
and never let you go.

Sunday, November 17, 2013

Nothing ordinary

No it wasn't ordinary,
having found You and then,
having You gone.
It was rather,
an experience of a lifetime.

Saturday, November 16, 2013

Transition........ Just one dance.

It was not merely a travel. It was a transition.

At the Barajas Madrid airport, her landing was much more than an entry into Spain. It was her most earnest wish.
But many things were unfathomable. Like her irregular breathing, increased pulse and shivering limbs.

Anticipation was killing her.

The prospect of seeing him once again was too much to bear.

While collecting luggage and helping Bibi jaan carrying her own things, she was slightly disoriented. She could not wait any longer to rush out of the exit door, yet a part of her was stopping her from moving forwards. "You are in danger zone," an inner voice warned her.

And then she realized how true that was. Yes she was in danger zone. He was too handsome.

She realized as his huge frame materialized in front of her. As soon as she was out of the artificially cold atmosphere of the airport building into the open sunshine, two facts hit her hard. The scorching summer heat of Madrid and the handsome Spaniard standing in front of her, were both real.

He was hugging her dad and was meeting humbly with Bibi jaan and her mom. Imad and herself were in the queue.

And then she heard him saying loudly to her " bienvenido a Espana mi amiga."

"Gracias Senor" She was all smiles too.

"Good to have you guys around." he was genuinely happy.

"Its too hot here" Mawra could not resist commenting.

His laughter was instantaneous. "Suhail your kid thought Karachi is the only city where you have summers."

Her dad laughed and put an arm around her shoulder.

"I have been to many other cities too. And I am not a kid remember?" The face she made was enough to make everyone laugh.

"Sorry madam. But you still have to endure the heat of Madrid. We do have intense summers in Spain. Use Sun Creams. "

He said as he went to bring his car from the parking lot. And it was a huge white car, enough to carry their luggage and all of them comfortably. The Air conditioner inside the car was a relief to her senses.

"I thought you may not come to pick us up personally Daniyal. Isn't it your working hour?" Amna Suhail started the converstaion. He looked back into the mirror and smiled.

"We call it jet lag bhabhi. I planned your trip so I could come to pick you guys up. Its saturday today." he laughed and everybody else did too.

And Mawra could not believe she was with him. In his car . in his land and very soon in his home.

It was the beginning of a transition.




Friday, November 15, 2013

Something else.

When you write and could not finish.

When your characters stop speaking to you.

When your story comes to a sudden halt.

When words are slipping away from your fingers.

When keyboard keys are being missed frequently.

When you want to express and feel helpless.

When you know what is going on and do not accept.

No it is not simply a writer's block.

It's something else.

Thursday, November 14, 2013

Running Away

Running away seems so much easier.
Is it that easy in real sense?

I thought I knew the answer.

Deep engrossing in routines may make you feel tired to the bone but is there a way to put full-stop to the ongoing thought processing?

Changing clouds and atmosphere for a while, meeting beautiful people, hearing lovely talks, indulging in new passions, simply in the process of dragging yourself away. Doesn't help much really.

The tug at the heart, at the end of the day, keeps you restless.

Running away used to seem so much easier.



Saturday, November 9, 2013

changing season

Stillness
Loneliness
Unexplained sadness
This first winter night
Is so slowly
Enveloping me.

Thursday, November 7, 2013

Of Desires and Destiny

Destiny is not without desires. They are hooked together.

The desire of sowing a seed and the destiny to see it growing into a tree.

The desire of playing with words and the destiny of an emerging best-seller.

The desire of meeting a person and the destiny of falling in love with him.

Desire is the spark of a flame. 

Destiny is being burnt.

Borrowed

A borrowed Poem. Poet unknown.


Muhabbat mein kabhi dorahey ka imkan nahi hota

Ye hoti hai to hoti hai


Nahi hoti to jitna bhi jatan ker lo,nahi hoti

Koi acha agar lag jaye to sab khami’yan is ki

Achanak khobi’yon ki ourhni mein chup si jati hein


Zamana lakh samjhaye, sambhal jao


Samat aur basarat ko sujhai kuch nahi deta


Samajh ata hai us lamhey


Key jab daman mein lakh’on chyed ho ja’ein


Kabotar key par’on key sath liptey


Sab ayaa’n jab bheyd ho jain


Muhabbat mein kabhi dorahey ka imkan nahi hota

..
Ye hoti hai to hoti hai


Nahi hoti to jitna bhi jatan ker lo,nahi hoti

Short story.

I wrote a few words and sent for publication.
It was instantaneous.
There couldn't have been a better time, with tenderness in your heart, silent lips and wet eyes, the most natural story may come into existence.
It did.

Tuesday, November 5, 2013

Sunday, November 3, 2013

Violin Player

Under the canopy of illuminating chandeliers
surrounded by good looking, perfumed people
When I had  just a few moments
to spend in my company
I heard someone playing an old music
on the saddening tunes of violin
oh in that very special moment
I lived my whole life
once again.


Friday, November 1, 2013

Thursday, October 31, 2013

Ill defined.

There could be ill define margins in tissues under a microscope. A pathologist can pick 'em up.

There may be ill define logic in an argument, a critic can catch it.

There could be ill define lines under your eyes, an observant can point that out.

But when there is ill define pain prevailing inside you, there aren't many who could reach to it.

It just persists.

at times for eternity.

Tuesday, October 29, 2013

taboo

What creates taboos?
Why there are things which we can not discuss openly.
Why there are ruthless, shameless things happening around us and can not be stopped.
Why could be people so inhumane, where they lose the integrity and respect of relations to transform into animals?
Animals could be much better though, in certain aspects.
Why if they do, what they do, could be accepted by society, but when people speak of the issue it becomes a taboo?
I read taboo, sometime back.
I did not know then, a day might come and I myself would think of writing over a taboo topic.

Known-unknown

Why do I have to know the unknown?
Sometimes we are better off without knowing certain things.
unknown may not bother you,
known would follow you to the core.
Till you find yourself
drowned in its depth.

Saturday, October 26, 2013

Failed

Thought I was busy, I was wrong. I am extremely busy.

And yes I am deliberately doing this to myself. Indulgence for a workaholic is a blessing.

A purposeful effort to tire each muscle and bone so that one can not "think".

And even then if thoughts keep coming back, you are in a dilemma.

Stuck up.

Failed.


Kill me softly

I heard
people may kill softly,
Don't know though
if a term like soft suicide
exists?

Friday, October 25, 2013

Iss waqt.... Faiz

Is Waqt To Yun Lagta Hai Ab Kuch Bhi Nahin Hai
Mahtab Na Suraj Na Andhera Na Savera

Aankhon K DarichoN Men Kisi Husn Ki chilman
Aur Dil Ki Panaahon Men Kisi Dard Ka Dera

Mumkin Hai Koi Veham Ho Mumkin Hai Suna Ho
Galiyon Men Kisi Chaap Ka ik Aakhiri Phera

Shaakhon Men Khayaalon K Ghaney Pairr Ki Shayad
Ab Aa k Karey ga Na Koi Khwaab Basera

Ik Bair Na Ik Mehar Na Ik Rabt Na Rishta
Tera Koi Apna Na Paraya Koi Mera

Tuesday, October 22, 2013

Music And Work

The captivating tunes of a beautifully played sitar
stopped my busy nerves and moving fingers
I noticed out of nowhere
A single drop of tear on my eye lash
I blinked
It wont go away
Either I should not work
or should I stop listening to
the captivating tunes of a beautifully played sitar?

Insomnia .... yet again




Sunday, October 20, 2013

Of desires and destiny.

And today someone came and told me, I admire you for who you are, how do you survive, how do you keep your spirits alive? How do you manage your various inclinations?

And There I was not wondering at her admiration, on the contrary, it made me ponder over the time lapse,  the repetition of the same events I went through in recent past, the depressions, the loneliness, the mellow spirits, the shallow feelings, it all came back today.

I remember I said those similar words to someone else too, who was my mentor and ideal for striving hard and  surviving and for keeping the smile alive.

So it turns out that time repeats itself, today where she is, I was someday, and today where I am , I desired to be the other day.

And then how I see from here is that, where I want to be , I shall be there soon too.

But does the desire ever fade? We keep on running but are we ever satisfied?

For me its a big No. For You, go find yourself.

I know one thing, the day my desires are gone, I am gone.

Smile

At times even big jokes would not effect you,
and at others a tiny small thing can bring along the most natural smile.
Like seeing a lost friend after a long time,
Like playing with a tiny naughty toddler,
Like hearing a new song that matches your mood!

Saturday, October 19, 2013

Color me Autumn



When You find the gold in my eyes,
 the orange in my cheeks,
the waves in my hair
and the dryness on my lips
know that
You have colored me
Autumn.




Jam

Sometimes the realization strikes You with a big bang
and you remain bewildered and awestruck.
The realization of an emotional jam.

They are those times when you hate being in love.

Tuesday, October 15, 2013

Good night .... Just One Dance.

Her MP3 player was on with non stop  Nayyara Noor singing

"Aey ishq humain barbaad na ker"

("O Love do not desolate me")

Clad in her black pajamas, lying on her stomach with a pillow under her chin, her eyes closed , legs crossed , it was her late night hour , her very own, when she was alone with herself.

Sometime ago she was busy with her assignment that was due to submit in the morning when she saw her cell phone displaying a number from Spain. And then she turned it to a silent mode. Still she could see the number blinking and it was enough to distract her from studies and to disturb her to the very core.

And now when Nayyara in her tender voice was singing this sad ghazal, a single tear was blinking in her eye. She put the cell phone under another pillow so she could not see who was trying to reach her.  

"You can not reach me now, its over." She said to an unseen image.

She could not know when her father came inside her room and tapped her shoulder.

For a minute she was surprised and then next moment she turned the music down.

"You are listening to music at this late hour Mawra, and I thought you were sound asleep", He said gently.

"Sorry Baba I was about to go to sleep. Is everything OK? Do you need coffee?" , his father occasionally asked her for a cup of coffee in the late hours.

"No honey, its Daniyaal, calling you for sometime and when you were not responding, he called me to know if everything was alright,  told him you might be sleeping but he was right, you are still up listening to ghazals!"
he smiled and handed over his cell phone to her.

Oh gosh, she never knew he could find the alternative ways to reach her.

It was not easy maintaining a normal attitude when she started speaking to him, but she had to do it. It felt like she was listening to him after ages.

"I was listening to loud music and my cell phone is not with me, i think its in my bag" , she was bad at lying she knew.

Her father left the room soon then and she was alone with him. The sad ghazal was still playing  in the backdrop making her feel like being a character of an epic sad love story.

"And what about so many other times when you did not respond to my calls, it made me worried Amiga."

"I was busy, really"

"I don't know but let me tell you I had a feeling it was something else. Anyways what is that music in the background? I seem to like it."

"Its a ghazal sung by Nayyarra Noor, my favorite singer"

"A ghazal as those sung by Nusrat fateh Ali? I love listening to this kind of music, can you send me its link?"

"Sure, Do u listen to urdu music?"

His laughter was instantaneous. What is urdu music , english music, spanish music? Music has no boundaries and  I happen to understand urdu, remember?" 

"Yes" , she lied. She forgot he knows urdu language, just as she was trying to forget how his eyes sparkled and how his smile melted her heart.

"So hows preparation for tour de Spain?"

"I dunno, mom is doing all the preparation"

"Actually I called up specially to inform you that I have found a very secluded swimming pool for you here in my neighborhood, its one of my female colleagues who has gone out on a project to US and her house is big enough to accommodate a pool. She had handed me over the keys with the permission that my guests can use her swimming pool area. I was so excited to let you know Amiga. Now when you are here in Madrid you can enjoy swimming as much as you can , so bring along your swimming gear." 

It was such a big surprise to her, she could not imagine he could go to such an extent to ask a favor from his colleague for her. She was touched deeply.

"Thank You. " She could not say much.

"Tengo el placer Amiga"

"I am waiting for you guys to come over. You don't know how I miss a family around me and you people are all I have."

There was this ache in his voice that made her single dangling tear fell off her left eye.

"We'll be there soon and we'll keep you so much busy that in the end you'll want us to send us back. So Beware." she replied smilingly, this was the first genuine smile she had in days.

He laughed "You bet senorita. Now be a good girl and go to sleep and pick up my calls or you will miss big fun in life" 

She laughed and bade him good night










Monday, October 14, 2013

Utopia

I wish life was,
as gentle as your voice,
as warm as your hands,
as sweet as your words,
as beautiful as your eyes.

Sunday, October 13, 2013

haiku

رنگ ریز مرے

رنگ کے مجھکو اپنے رنگ میں

چھوڑر دیا دھوپ میں تنہا



rung raiz meray

rung kay mujhko apnay rung main

chorr diya dhoop main tanha








Saturday, October 12, 2013

Voice

Tell me an untold tale
read me an unread book
speak to me endless-ly
till your voice is absorbed
into my very senses.

Begin------------End

We do remember the beginnings
oh so well
Or is it the ending
that feels like beginning?

Thursday, October 10, 2013

Rain (a translation)

When raindrops kissed the forehead
of a dry deserted land
The essence of love evolves
in the form of soothing fragrance
Can we play the characters
of this epic story
While I become the dry land
and you portraying the raindrops
kiss my forehead with love
seal my fragrance forever.


بارش





جب دھرتی کے سوکھے ماتھے پر 
بوندوں نے پیار کا لمس دھرا 
سوندھی متی کی خوشبو سے  
وصل کا گہرا راز کھلا
صدیوں پرانے قصّے کو      
چلو آج مجسّم کر دیکھیں 
 میں دھرتی کا کردار بنوں 
تم بوند بن کر آ پنھچو  
مرے ماتھے پر اپنا  لمس دھرو 
اور مجھ کو معطر کر جاؤ 

Early morning

Early morning is so quiet
this quietness suffices me
the grass is wet under my feet
this softness enchants me
the plants undergo meditation
this stillness delights me



Wednesday, October 9, 2013

Sticky note

Phases come and go
yet some may linger on
and paste like a sticky note
on the page of your heart.

Tuesday, October 8, 2013

Bitter-sweetness

As an steaming cup of black coffee
along with tinge of bitterness
brings a sense of relief
some bitter-sweet memories
may also bring along
a tinge of sweet smile.

Monday, October 7, 2013

Nothing lasts forever but....






They say nothing lasts forever but let me rephrase, A Hajj does.

It is a memory that is never erased even if the whole clone of memory cells are replenished, even if you are surviving an Alzheimer's disease, even then i am sure, the feeling and memories of Hajj never fade out.

This is a blind love, it pulls you towards itself, you run madly towards your beloved, never minding leaving behind your loved ones. The  attraction is so powerful, for once you are trapped, you are gone forever.

Even after coming back from the Holy land, one is so equipped with the rituals, that every year the Zul Hajj moon sighting can evoke the same restless feeling in the depth of your soul. You tend to fly away with all the love birds, millions of them, travelling across continents to gain in return, the ultimate reward of Love , Peace, Purity.

My heart is one such love bird today, waiting to be clad in white uniform, fly away to the far away Holy land.

Hajj


Distraction

I do not know
If I could ever be
a reason of
Your distraction
If so, I wish that
moment be tonight.

Saturday, October 5, 2013

Nostalgia

میرے چارہ گر

یہ جو زخم ، زخم سے خواب ہیں، یہ جو رات ہے میرے چار سو
مرے بےخبر ، مرے بےنشاں ، میں تھا کس نگر ، تو رھا کہاں
کہ زماں ، مکاں کی یہ وسعتیں ، تجھے دیکھنے کو ترس گئیں
وہ مرے نصیب کی بارشیں ، کسی اور چھت پر برس گئیں





Amjad Islam Amjad

Falling leaves

Noticed today
How the falling leaves 
Tend to change colors
Akin to your eyes.


Unexpressed

Silence can be wonderful.
The words that are lost may take you into another alley,
A world of feelings only, existent but unexpressed
You explore some more, you discover some more
The feelings which were yet unknown.
Yes, silence can be wonderful.

Wednesday, October 2, 2013

Tuesday, October 1, 2013

Love-Hate Story.

Irony it could be, but it is more sever than that.

When you run away from someone a moment and then the next moment you find yourself  running towards the same?

When you smile with the one, you tend to cry your heart with?

When you would like to punch him in the nose, yet the next moment you would want to hug him close.

When you don't want to hear a name, and the next day you don't catch your breath until you have any news from him?

Love stories do exist and so do hate stories..... but when you find yourself in such dilemma , believe me, you are in the making of a love-hate story.




Thursday, September 26, 2013

Hideout

I wish to seek a hideout in a cave.
A deep dark cave, where no one could reach me.
Where I can cry my heart out, where I don't have to hide my tears.
Where there is just me and my Creator, where I can have a connection with Him, the way my Prophet did.

Where I do not have to hear the news I am hearing each day.
Where my children are not kidnapped for lust and ransom and then killed and thrown down on solitary beaches in school uniforms.
Where there is no heartless human known.
Where I don't have to sign a high grade tumor report to innocent people who do not know how their life is growing into a misery.
Where there is no pain behind smiles.
Where there is no tear behind the masked face.
Where , if I die, I'm not guilty of not being able to help out my fellow beings.

Monday, September 23, 2013

Dilemma


Go and you can not leave.
Come and you can not reach.




Blues

At times the color ON you tends to envelope every single thing Around You.
I don't know why am I wearing Blue,
Every single thing Around me this morning,
Appears Blue.

Sunday, September 22, 2013

The Moon and I




In last night's elusive fog,
immersed in serenity,
the Moon was rather quiet.
Embracing me in a soft hue,
It did not utter but silence.
A thousand words were spoken then,
between the ancient lovers.










Saturday, September 21, 2013

Tarar on Elif Shafak

Mustansar Hussain Tarar's review of Elif Shafak's
"The Forty rules of Love"


۔الف شفق کے ’’ محبت کے چالیس اصول‘‘ میں عین ممکن ہے کہ مولانا روم کی حیات کو جوں کا توں نہ بیان کیاگیا ہو‘ کہانی پن کے لئے کچھ آمیزش کی گئی ہو لیکن یہ ایک گہرا تاثر آپ کی روح کی گہرائیوںمیں یوں اتارتا ہے کہ وہ آپ کی زندگی کا ایک حصہ بن جاتا ہے‘ البتہ اسکے پڑھنے کا ایک نقصان ہوتا ہے…آپ سمجھتے ہیں کہ آپ محبت کے تجربے سے گزرے ہیں‘ اسے پڑھ کر احساس ہوتا ہے کہ نہیں گزرے !

Translation:

"Elif Shafak in her novel "The Forty rules of love" may have added some fiction to Rumi's life to weave the story, yet it leaves a deeper impact to your soul to amalgamate into your life. Still one remains at a loss after reading the book.... when You think you know what Love is, after the read up you may feel, You still fail to understand what love is!"


Friday, September 20, 2013

Tugging

How it happens so often 
that a small insignificant event
makes a huge difference and
tugs at an already tender heart?

Wednesday, September 18, 2013

Anna Karenina










“He stepped down, trying not to look long at her, as if she were the sun, yet he saw her, like the sun, even without looking.” 
― Leo TolstoyAnna Karenina




“I think... if it is true that 
there are as many minds as there 
are heads, then there are as many 
kinds of love as there are hearts.” 
― Leo TolstoyAnna Karenina

Saturday, September 14, 2013

Irony

So it is concluded that none of the feelings we go through is unique.

Someone somewhere, in their own states of being, have gone through those feelings too.

May be since the beginning of times, the feelings are same.

May be the tremors of restlessness I am going through , were felt by the very first human being ever created.

And yet, still in my madness, this feeling is so unique to myself.

What an Irony!


Tuesday, September 10, 2013

Tender-ness ...... Just one Dance.

You can run away from all other things but the tenderness inside your heart, pondered Mawra.

The geranium flowers lost fragrance.The summer breeze suffocate her
The crescent moon made her weep.

For days she could not continue her dance sessions and at times she skipped her prayers. She could not fathom the piercing pain that was throbbing in her veins so deeply.

Even though she was not sure in the beginning, with the passage of time she grew accustomed to the fact that she was the victim of a single sided crush. A crush that felt like love. Or may be she did not know what love truly meant. It was a mere fascination probably, just that she was hit harder.

The day she heard Helen's voice in his bedroom, she was hit harder.

She did not know how to respond, what to believe and what not. She was pushed out of her dreamworld and that was like a downfall. The dead end.

She threw away her cell phone, stop texting and calling him. She knew she was trying to run a mile, but then what other option she had.

Going out with friends, spending her day at club, doing endless shopping for the upcoming cousins wedding , she did not have time to even spend with herself.

All day she laughed and teased. But it was the loneliness in her bedroom in the dark hours that scared her, made her helpless.

It was the sad radio music bringing out the tenderness hidden beneath the fog of false laughter.

And it was when she used to be online, it was his name she was googling around, seeing his images that he would never come to know, she could access from across the continents.

That's when, after a long month of fighting with herself, she gave in.

She surrendered to the power of love. She bowed her head and admitted, it was not a crush or fascination, it was much superior to them both. Love as they may call it, was unfathomable, unexplained, unhindered suffering. Something deeper, much more deeper.

She tried to run away ..... from him.... but failed.

For You can run away from all other things but the tenderness inside your heart.




Monday, September 9, 2013

A cup of tea



At times,
having a cup of tea alone in the darkness of late hours,
can make you feel lonelier.

Friday, September 6, 2013

Romanticist

It isn't easy to be a romanticist

To walk on pebbles to get to the sea 
Scratched by thorns to reach the flower
To bear a burn in lightening a perfumed candle

You have to suffer in quest of your desires and dreams.

It really isn't easy to be a romanticist

Thursday, September 5, 2013

Peace

They say every feeling leads somewhere,

Every apprehension has a notion,

Every tale has an ending,

Every desire needs a destiny.

My feelings, apprehension and desires, have a notion that may lead to an ending.

I do not know where.

I hope then, I may find peace.

Tuesday, September 3, 2013

Morning

I wonder if I could express through paintings and not merely through words, how would I illustrate this lovely morning?





Sunday, September 1, 2013

Death

And then suddenly
You become a feature of past,
Everything related to you go still,
When death arises as the most harsh reality of your life.

Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Strange moments

Strangest things happen at strangest moments.

Just as I am smelling an English rose in my hair
when its no where to be found

Just as I am seeing You sitting across me
when You are no where to be seen

Yeah

Strangest things happen at strangest moments.

Tuesday, August 27, 2013

Middle of a night

If You could wake me up from a dream
in the middle of a dark night

Why Can't You stroke me to sleep
Till arises the dawn?

Sunday, August 25, 2013

Thursday, August 22, 2013

chaand ki katori



A few lines make you go tender,all over.
even when you go through them over and again, your own tears may surprise you.
See if you feel the same. or is it me alone?





Life is a cup of moon..
this night is clever..
All the stars on one side..
have collected the life...
This life is a gourmand

relationships of flimsy silk,
in cold, shiver, shrink and fall off..
for whom we weave the sweater of love..
all the stars on one side,

have collected the life..
it's a cup of moon..


these dreams,
get thawed in the rain everyday,
victims of poverty,
we make an umbrella of hands (above dreams)..
all the stars on one side, 

have collected the life..
it's a cup of moon.

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Music be the food of Love ..... Just one dance

The music system in her bedroom was in full swing.

There was a loud dance music emerging out of the speakers enough to vibrate the atmosphere.

Clad in her deep pink track suit, her long hair pleated into a french braid, she was busy doing aerobics.

This summer when she could not go out swimming due to possibility of naegleria fowleri  infection, she was restricted to home, so the decision was altered. instead of swimming, she opted for aerobics.

Though her addicted body misses the feel of water on her nerve endings.

And then she could not figure out how and where, as the track changes and Shakira emerges through her song Loca, the momentum changed.

Her flawless aerobic exercise steps  gradually converted into dancing moves.

After a long time, Mawra was dancing.

It was as if she was tranced into the rhythm of music, as if an unseen power was making her move through the beat, as if it was a long forgotten indulgences he was tasting after years.

It felt as if meeting someone, you once loved madly , unexpectedly after ages.

She did not know how long it took but it was refreshing for her, she was all smiles and sweat and blush as she came to an end of her dance session.

Taking out the water bottle from her bedroom fridge , she passed across her study table when she noticed a couple of missed calls on her cell phone. It was a well known land line number from Spain.

She called back instantly , while the music in the background was still as louder, and when the water bottle was still in her hand .... unopened.

He picked up but she could not hear him and then only she discovered her own absurdness and turned the sound down.

"Wow , what this loud sound all about, where are you senorita? on the dance floor?" , he asked teasingly

"How could You possibly tell?" , she went on

"I know because when I am out dancing , this is the kind of music I like."

"Do you dance?" surprised, she asked.

"very seldom yes,  do You?" he said casually

"Yes but not often, its my passion though"

"What sort of dancing? the typical club dancing or something traditional?"

"All sorts, from hip hop to classical, I took a short course of kathak a couple of years ago"

"wow.....Do you know waltz?" he smiled

"I can't be doing waltz all alone" , she replied promptly

"Obviously You need a partner. Do you know anything about Spanish traditional dances?"

"Oh the gypsy dances? I know about Flamenco, but that appears difficult"

"It should not once You start learning. Ill see if you could catch some training classes when you visit."

"Really? Can you do that? Bibi jaan will surely kill me." she laughed.

"I will save you and take all the curse on me. If that's the least I can do for your passion mi Amiga"

He was sweet as always.

And she could not wait to be in Spain.

She had one more reason to anticipate.








Tuesday, August 20, 2013

Beauty

Can You beat simplicity when it comes to beauty?

I have seen some of the purely beautiful people in their natural state instead of being all made up and refined.

Monday, August 19, 2013

Unexpected

Just as when I  badly needed someone to hug me tightly

I received an unexpected warm hug

from my kid.

Enough to sooth my aching nerves.

Enough to send me to a sound sleep



Sunday, August 18, 2013

Friday, August 16, 2013

Dreaming

And then there are such nights when a dream wakes You up at an odd hour of night.
Even that wakeful-ness is sort of delusional.
You are awake yet sleepy,
Sleepy yet dreamy,
Dreamy yet awake!

I am lost tonight
Let me go back to dreaming.

Thursday, August 15, 2013

August 14th that just crossed.

May we seek independence from
falsehood, wrong doings, intolerance as a nation

Happy Independence Day Pakistan.

May You live till Eternity.


Tuesday, August 13, 2013

Parveen

کچھ تو ہوا بھی سرد تھی کچھ تھا تیرا خیال بھی
دل کو خوشی کے ساتھ ساتھ ہوتا رہا ملال بھی

سب سے نظر بچا کے وہ مجھ کو تھا ایسے دیکھتا
ایک دفعہ  تو رک گئی گردش ماہ و سال بھی

پروین شاکر 


Eternity

Some things are Eternal.

Some eyes, expressions, words,
Some smiles and some tears,
Some moments, some confrontations,
Some voices and some people,

You remember those even when You want to forget.

They assimilate into Eternity.


Monday, August 12, 2013

No.

Being with someone does not necessarily mean You got to agree with them on every front.

No!

Thursday, August 8, 2013

Indulgence

How smoking helps
or a glass of wine?

how music helps 
or a dance session?


how meditation helps
or a floating Sema?

I don't know

Nothing seems to help out
for a soul seeking indulgence

I am not being unthankful
but I need to run away

from desires
from dreams
from restlessness
from tenderness

Help me Lord
Grant me indulgence.


Secret storm

As silent as sea?
for in the depth it may have a storm flowing
and on the surface a secret silence.

I wish my silence dies a quiet death
I wish the storm never arises!

Tuesday, August 6, 2013

Revelation

An unexpected may come without warning.

Sometimes in the darkness, stillness and quietness of a night, there arises a revelation.

The fact that made you run away from yourself would appear stark naked.

The truth that was hidden behind your denial, makes you bow your head and accept.

When the tenderness of heart would make you weep easily,
On such a Holy night,
I bow my head and accept!


(On the sacred night of 27th Ramazan 1434 A.H.)


Monday, August 5, 2013

Alive and Dead

As a student medical science taught me, a person is alive until his brain is surviving.

Brain death is what we doctors need to certify Death.

Consider me an exception here please.

For I shall be dead when my  heart dies.

Thursday, August 1, 2013

Inside the shell

Inside a shell of indifference, we tend to hide a part of us, that very precious part with feelings and emotions, smiles and laughter, sadness and tears.

What we show to the world is may be the tip of the iceberg, something superficial, something not-so-deep.

But then again, there are certain moments and a few rare group of people who know you through the core, in depth, way down the surface.

With them you feel such carefree-ness, you tend to open up and expel yourself out.

All fears
All tears
All madness
All sadness.

And then You feel You are truly blessed.

Monday, July 29, 2013

Secrets and Sins

At times one could so much relate to a verse or few lines or an sketch or an sculpture.

As I went still when I happened to read this..

"He was larger than life, the close up zooming in on his face causing his sleepy brown eyes to look directly into hers as he smiled into the camera. His hair was still black and shiny, exactly as she remembered it from back then. How many years ago was it? Every so often, she counted.... ten.....eleven....always surprised that the yearning hadn't gone away....."

Secrets and Sins.

Jaishree Misra.

Sunday, July 28, 2013

Confrontation..... just one dance

A warm night it was, as restless as her heart.

She was standing on the terrace, there was a quietness prevailing all around her, everybody in their bedrooms fast asleep, except Mawra. Suddenly she had an urge to have caffeine. Her veins needed a rush of blood instead of this smooth flow or may be she needed a divergence. The books and music were no more helping her tonight.

Back in her room, seeing her reflection in the mirror, she decided to tie her hair in a loose knot, her light blue pajamas were decent enough, she simply draped a stole around her shoulders and went downstairs to the kitchen.

While mixing the coffee she put two mugs on the marble counter. Remembering the weekend night when she was watching a movie and on Daniel's return from Lahore, she was preparing coffee for them both.  But even then they could not have coffee together.

When brought her coffee mug with her in the lawn, there was a sacred silence  which she needed at that moment. At times we need to spend time with ourselves, we need to speak  and listen to our own feelings. Darkness, loneliness and quietness make a decent trio. They launch you inner self out and let you face your own conflicts. You may confront your soul or you may find a way out.

She was sitting on a white lawn swing while having coffee. It was dark, thick and bitter than usual. She needed to alter her taste tonight. May be she needed to alter her thoughts too.

It was many days since she had lost her regular sleep cycle. She had become a night bird, staying up for no reason. And this was effecting her studies adversely. She had lost her appetite, her weight and her natural skin glow. She had lost her charming self too, had grown more quite and secluded.

Was there any reason for all of it? Yes she was sure there was. She was in love. truly, madly, deeply.

There was no resemblance between the two. They were from two different worlds. But did it matter? Nothing matters to Mawra Suhail now, she was at a stage of feelings where nothing matter much. She was sure she was alone in her deep feelings towards him, he would never reciprocate in the same manner, there may be affection , kindness or care, but the reason would never be the same for Daniel Malik. And may be he would never even know her side of story as she had no intention of telling him. Her feelings were so precious to herself, she would never like anybody to make them feel retarded or absurd.

"Mawra, is that You? "

Her thoughts were interrupted by the gentle voice of her father.

"Ji Baba"

"Why up so late? Everything alright?" he came to sit beside her on the swing and put one arm around her shoulders.

His voice was so gentle, for an instant she felt like sharing everything with him.

"No particular reason Baba, just wanted to have coffee. Should I make you some coffee too?"

"In this summer night, no way. You may have altered taste, I don't." he smiled gently.

"Is there something worrying You sweetheart? " he said.

"What gave you that impression?"

"Well, many things, It seems you are going through a transitional phase of your life, as if you are growing up or rather growing mature. It isn't bad to spend time with yourself, but its bad losing your cheery self. I miss my Mawra who was chuckling, giggling  and talking all the time. I miss her laughter in my home. I want may daughter back, bring her back to me , will You please? "

Mawra was speechless, she had nothing to say. It was all true, there was nothing to deny. She just nodded with a half hearted smile. And was surprised to know, his dad was such an observer.

"You can share yourself with anyone you feel at ease with. We are not just your parents, we are your friends too, remember? Don't You ever feel alone my little girl. "

He was giving her another dose of  surprise. How could he reach to something she had only kept to herself.

He brought her back inside and put her to bed like a baby.

She had tears in her eyes when she finally dozed off.