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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!

Monday, November 30, 2015

Thank you

Thank you fever for catching up with me again
Thank you for making me drowsy
And sleepy
And thank you so much for letting me forget about other pain

Friday, November 27, 2015

سر دی کی دھوپ

سردیوں   کی  ہلکی ہلکی سی دھیمے سے پھیلتی دھوپ کتنی  پیاری  لگتی ہے 

 جیسے کوئی چپکے سے زندگی  کے معمول شامل ہو رہا ہو 

جیسے کوئی   بھولی بسری جان فضا یاد لوٹ آئی ہو 

جیسے کسی گم گشتہ داستان کا  قصّہ دہرایا گیا  ہو 

جیسے کوئی دلفریب چہرہ مدّت بعد دکھائی   دیا  ہو

Thursday, November 26, 2015

M.Phil seminar. 26-11-15

Some days are apparently big. Like today.
When I'll be presenting my M.Phil Pathology thesis in front of the audience.
Fingers crossed.

Tuesday, November 24, 2015

سال گرہ مبارک

میں نے بہت کم  خوبصورتی ، ذہانت  اور دل گدازی کے ایسے امتزاج دیکھے ہیں جن سے پروین آراستہ تھیں 
 میں ان سے کبھی مل نہیں پائ  مگر میں انہیں ان کے لفظوں کی خوشبو سے جان لیتی ہوں  

وُجود کو جب 
مُحبٌت کا وَجدان مِلا
تو شاعری نے جنم لیا۔

اِس کا آھنگ وھی ھے
جو موسیقی کا ھے

کہ جب تک 
سارے سُر سُچے نہ لگیں
گلے میں نوُر نہیں اُترتا

دِل کے سب زخم لو نہ دیں تو 
حرف میں روشنی نہیں آتی۔

”پروین شاکر“


when I stopped waiting for U
and even stopped looking,
days have gone silent and
nights have grown darker
time is standing still while
heart has drowned father

Friday, November 20, 2015

Wednesday, November 18, 2015

Faiz, lst night

Last night, your lost memories crept into my heart

as spring arrives secretly into a barren garden

as a cool morning breeze blows slowly in a desert

as a sick person feels well, for no reason

Late night reading

Australia awargi
Mustansar Hussain Tarar

Monday, November 16, 2015


All those endless conversations
that abruptly came to an end
And those shy truthful confessions
the air would never hear again
those sleepy wakeful nights
with eyes and words drunken
All those made me compose, the
words which otherwise were unspoken

Saturday, November 14, 2015

The story

“Tell me the story..
About how the sun loved the moon so much..
That she died every night..
Just to let him breathe...”

― Hanako Ishii

Thursday, November 12, 2015


There exists nothing further
between us , now
but quietness,
nothing more
nothing less
from the last shade in horizon
to the first morning sun ray
this deepening, tormenting
through the endless nights
to slowly passing days
this saddening, killing

Monday, November 9, 2015


I put my emptiness inside
an empty earthen pot
just then
it began to vibrate
so heavily, the waves
would collide with my
changing its rhythm to


Temptations and infatuation wouldn't last for long
That's where I realize
It was something else. 

Nothing but

Another new morning
which brought nothing
but emptiness

Saturday, November 7, 2015


Running after someone's footsteps doesn't necessarily mean we will find them. 

Friday, November 6, 2015

Tuesday, November 3, 2015


And then I stopped at the phrase which read..... going back to love

Going back to love? sounds insane.

If you could come out of this maze called love, find a way out to run away, that's the only option which may lead you to going back to love.

What is the other way?

Its either to love or not to love. No in-betweens!

If there is a spark it will ignite, always

If there is none, the ice cold feelings will never melt.

What is between them?

I can never fathom.

And the most painful time is where you keep on guessing, whether it is a spark or an snow covered peak and never find an answer!

These days

There are days which are rough
and then there are others which are roughest

No gaps in between!

Sunday, November 1, 2015

End of story

How long can you wonder if that particular someone cares about you?

If they care they would show.

not showing = not caring

End of story!