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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, February 25, 2014


As the sunshine fades it leaves behind its warmth,

When rain stops falling, the wetness in the air persists,

An Autumn wind would spread leaves all around for days to come.

Although for a shorter interval, yet the effect of each phenomenon remains.

For some it matters, for others nothing at all.

Imprints persist. Be it emotional or physical. 

A glimpse in the mirror,
 a long forgotten dress,
 a mole on the skin,
 a raindrop,
 a favorite fragrance, 
an old picture, 
a beautiful sketch, 
a twitch to the skin, 
a tug at heart.

For a short while or for a lifetime, who knows?

Imprints remain!

Monday, February 24, 2014


Some days without any special reason could be included into the list of your special days.

Specially when you wake up to read about yourself unexpectedly.


Sunday, February 23, 2014


In the distant hours of a moderately chilled night, draped in a red shawl, wandering in the solitude of the lawn, with her long hair open and flowing in every direction, she was yet again celebrating her loneliness. The clouds up in the sky saw her and smiled, the moon in the initial days of rebirth was wondering at the all so familiar sight. The lonely girl's shadow was nothing anew to them both. But it was after many many years she was found in such state. Her peaceful days were shattered yet again but with a distance of many years in between. She was meeting her own soul after such a long time.

Reading about such a lonely restless soul used to bring big charms to me as a reader, being one such solitary wanderer could be a heartbreaking romanticism!

Tuesday, February 18, 2014

Heart of hearts

There has to be a reason to feel depressed about. 

Depression for unknown cause is a disorder. 

The funny side is I feel better when I avoid acknowledging the reason. Running away in other terms.

Though in my heart of hearts I know everything. There could be moments of smiles and laughter, joy and amusement but in the end the day finishes off with a tenderness unseen.

There are losses and lessons, that's what life is all about.

Just yesterday we as a nation lost an asset.

تجھ کو کتنوں کا لہو چاہیے اے ارض وطن 

Dr. Javed I Kazi was assassinated. He was the master mind of renal pathology in Pakistan. When senior pathologists used to stuck up in any case regarding kidney diseases, they looked at him for the solution. A teacher, a mentor and above all a good human. We lost him and buried all the treasures of knowledge too. 

And then people ask me why am I depressed?

There got to be reason to feel low.

Some are being being admitted, some remain unsaid.

Thursday, February 13, 2014

Remembering Faiz Ahmed Faiz.

ہم کہ ٹھہرے اجنبی  اتنی مداراتوں کے بعد 
پھربنیں  گے آشنا کتنی ملاقاتوں کے بعد 

کب نظر میں آ ے گی بے داغ سبزے کی بہار 
خوں کے دھببے دھلیں گے کتنی برساتوں کے بعد 

دل تو چاہا پر شکست دل نے ہی مہلت نہ دی 
کچھ گلے شکوے ہی کر لیتے  مناجاتوں کے بعد 

تھےبہت  بے درد لمحے ختم درد عشق کے 
تھیں بہت بے مہر صبحیں مہربان راتوں کے بعد 

ان سے جو کہنے گئے تھے فیض جان صدقہ کے 
ان کہی ہی رہ گئی وہ بات سب باتوں کے بعد  
After those many encounters, that easy intimacy,
. we are strangers now –
After how many meetings will we be that close again?
When will we again see a spring of unstained green?
After how many monsoons will the blood be washed
. from the branches?
So relentless was the end of love, so heartless –
After the nights of tenderness, the dawns were pitiless,
. so pitiless.
And so crushed was the heart that though it wished
. it found no chance –
after the entreaties, after the despair — for us to
. quarrel once again as old friends.
Faiz, what you’d gone to say, ready to offer everything,
. even your life –
those healing words remained unspoken after all else had
. been said.

Sign of a classic poetry is that it could be perceived in multiple ways.

Today on his birth anniversary when I am going through Faizs poetry, I came to a halt at this poem, although he wrote it on the separation of East Pakistan from the western side, yet it feels as if Faiz wrote this poem for the turmoil that is going inside me.


Wednesday, February 12, 2014


Running fast in more than one directions may at last lead you to a point where you need to make a stop.

Stop and think.

Think and turn back.

only to find, a part of you was lost in that rush,

 left behind,

where it belonged,

never to return.

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

Sleepy escape

Muneeza Hashmi at Karachi Literature festival  told us about Faiz sahb being an escapist.

When in Beirut there was a war and bombs were thrown in their whereabouts, he used to find escape in sleep. Every one around  him used to wonder how he could do that.

Surprisingly I don't.

The only thing that surprised me hearing all this was that I wasn't alone. Sleep has been such a generous friend, helps me to close my eyes and let me flow in oblivion. Before the clock struck that dangerous hour of the night to flood back memories, I am secured in the arms of sleep. And i refuse to even dream.

Faiz sahb wasn't alone. I tend to find refuge in sleepy escape too.

Friday, February 7, 2014


I am not sure how Michelangelo felt after completing "David" or what Vincent Van Gogh did when he was done with "Starry night" and the same way I wonder about Da vinci's Monalisa.

When Faiz wrote "raat yun dil main", did he write anything else for a few weeks after that?

When Gulzar played with words in "mera kuch saman" , wasn't he quiet for many nights afterwards?

When you attain the epitome of anything , doesnt it make you subdued?

And doeasn't it apply to the epitome of feelings too?

When You feel so much then you may become subdued, quiet, secluded.

Just wondering!

Sunday, February 2, 2014

Turning back

Everything returns,
Seasons come around 
months and dates recycle
feelings re born
moments turn back.

Wish someone could tell you
when you intend to go,
you should pack up all of these
seasons, months, dates, feelings, moments.

Or if everything returns,
Why not thee?