Sunday, December 14, 2014


Ever wonder a life
Where no time existed
No clocks on the walls
No ambition no pain
No loss no gain
No fate to sustain
No wretched existence of insane
A world...
A world less of miracles
A random mirage of colors
No morals no story
No personal endeavors of glory
No fights no vengeance
No borders no religions
No hope to plant
No faith to haunt
A world with...
No past no future
No surmise no dreams
No good no evil
No bloodshed no screams
No bed time tales of devil
An eye tearless
An entity fearless
No purpose of our descend
No mistakes to amend
But a life...
A life of fickleness
Seconds left unchewed
Minutes munched to the bones
An aeon for the sake of an aeon
No often no seldom
An eternity of freedom
A life without path
A day without math
A poem without rhyme
A script without chyme
words filling the  chasm
rhyming back into sarcasm
No arguments no discussions
No insanity with repercussions
Chains of..
 Chains of everyday agony
Weight of the repents of past
And helpless future
Broken in one blow
Through thoughts of twisted head
Light shining through a  glow
Ignoring the heart instead
Ever wonder
Ever wonder...

Sunday, October 5, 2014

My Kite Flies High Like Inky Dot In The Sky...

Hope,that one discrete color among thoughts that begets the impossible. It is a shape-shifter that clings to any entity you could find. It becomes the heart of a mother who has lost her child in the sea of people or the nostalgic head of a soldier longing for home. You see it playing with the spirits of the underdogs or sparking up flames in the soul of a lover. If life were a game of chess  then hope is that white knight sent to decimate the front-line of pawns and knock out the rival black king, when all is lost but the one little riding piece of a chevalier we call hope.
We all have hope in our soul hidden in the deepest cores where nothing outlasts but the purest forms of energy, be it negative or positive. Its the realm of thoughts and dreams, desires and aspirations. Every human being is born with a place in his heart for storage of such vast amalgam of ardor, though only a few are able to self actualize the potential they are born with.
In my quest for lasting truth and journey towards eternity, I have come across this kingdom of vim. Guarded on all sides by the turbulent pawns of pessimism and despair striking anything moving towards the gates. You will find hope locked inside those huge walls of defense impregnable to anything but perseverance and determination. Life puts everyone through the tests of time. Hopes shattered,dreams rattled and despite the sincere efforts towards attainment of success,you may find fate ground you down undeservedly like arrows  falling from the sky piercing ur heart and flesh apart. Does it really conclude there? Is life that short or uneventful as to end up like that ? The answer is no!
In fact such are the moments that inspire men to rise among stars or fall six foot deep into the dust. Its these moments where you hold your ground, keep on moving towards the wall of negativity and rekindle faith and self belief that someday soon you are going to break through the wall and enter the kingdom of vim where hope shall embrace you, replenish your vitality and make you feel the warmth of sun shine and calm your entity down, armoring you up for the next battle in life.
I have broken through the gates of my kingdom and hope flies high in my soul, like a kite. A kite that would sustain its flight no matter what time of the day or life.Bring on the rain and the storms and unforgiving hurricanes that take one by surprise but my kite would be swinging and dancing with the waves of time because its not just a piece of paper i found by luck.its the work of years of relentless and incessant struggle that no storm can dare challenge the integrity of the fibers i built my kite with.Even if dusk fell and  mountains seemed darker than the sky, my kite shall be seen diving and rising again like an inky dot in the dim of the sky.

Monday, April 21, 2014


Like the wings of an eagle that has faced a thousand air waves of sand, dust of storm and drops of rain, like the many faces of hot winds of South and cold breeze of North, a million amplitudes of motions that make it glide and dive in, assimilating every bit of what it can take,I have faced a thousand forces of humankind,some hot others cold,some literary, others musical and a million pulls of artistic minds drowning me into whirlpool of life.
I have tried absorbing to my best. But these people have left their impressions on me , face to soul. I am no more myself but an amalgam of black, blue, yellow and pink. Yet in not being myself , I found my real self,my true soul. I had no art neither the vocabulary to understand my existence until someone brought in bebop to this wilderness that helped me express what i knew not, hitherto. Another person taught me how to laugh, even my voice and accent became someone else's, my hairstyle left mark of yet another soul and my dress up followed another pull. But what no one could ever change was my soul,my identity,the very core of my being.
I was black in the beginning until blue made me musical, yellow showed me the path to happiness and freedom and when I reached my destiny to realizing my inner truth,I found nothing but pink.Pink when you look at it in the first glance but traces of blue and yellow still remain.
And here I am , residing in the beats of seconds,lost in the leads of a guitar, swinging along every current , walking through the strings of charms and strokes of life, diving into every key of piano and shining through my violin, my words. Is it all real or just a mirage of what life and the winds have made me become?Is it all my real entity or have I gone astray to the baffling colors of the world that ever came my way?Are these the actual wings I was born with or just a distraction from the darker dull path of reality. But then again, what if it really doesn't matter?! What if life is in fact all about living a delusion to oneself and illusion to others , as long as your soul stays untouched,unchanged. Be it what so ever , I will stay an illusion, a shadow to the world as long as i can hear the hymn and as long as i can dance and swing through the cords of guitar.
Who am I and What I am to the world is a part of a ramshakled story unfolding still, to the ever mesmerizing symphony of love! 

Sunday, April 13, 2014


Dear Mother,
It aches to write this down, given the love i have for you,when my tongue finds not enough words to reach your ears but my heart does, to cherish your soul,when my thoughts no longer pass through voice but my actions speak of care, and all that I have for you takes me back into memories deep, of great childhood you gave me ,of the touch of your hands and calmness in your sound.I write this to you for I know what I cant express in a dramatic voice can only be immersed in the flamboyance of letters and lasting gratitude stored in a page.
My heart sinks evermore to realize that, with the life I am spending, I fail to see your face everyday and months pass by until i see my tracks back to you , for nobody shall last forever in this world neither you nor I , then every day is an opportunity lost to spend more time with you.
I know a mothers heart is no victim to the distance from her son for she can feel him  from oceans away but does a son have the same sensitivity of emotions to feel her mother too?
Dear Mother! It hurts everytime i realise that childhood would never come back when we never split apart and even a day's trip away from you felt like ages went by.When the setting sun signalled my isolation making me run back home to find you and everything would become normal again.When telling you all the troubles at school was like solving them.
God knew that despite the rising numbers, we would be left alone in this world.So He gave us that one person in mother whose love was more than enough to pass through a lifetime unhurt.And now that I see myself getting stronger I find you growing older. Now that i see myself getting powerful enough to hold you,I'm drifting farther away,pulled hard by the tides of daily work.
My effort to write it down to you.We never estimate the importance of a blessing until it vanishes.I dont want to follow that norm,I want to become that lot that appreciates what we have in present and in present I have you with me.
My heart bleeds every time I fail to give you back the same amount of love that you blessed me with every moment of my childhood.My soul screams to be with you, to help you pass through this age of yours when you need my presence the most.
Dear Mother! I am away but know that I am always there with you at every turn, at every crest and trough of your life.Know that despite my job, I am always in search of moments to compensate for my absence and you'll always see me by your side just like you were by my side ever since i opened my eyes...Know that ill stand by you to see the moon just like you held me to see the sun...
Love you Ami and thank you for the most sincerest of relations I could ever imagine! You have been everything I wanted in a mother but now its my turn to be everything a mother wants in her son!

Saturday, March 15, 2014

Of Injustice And Self-Immolation....(In Memory Of Victimized Pakistani Teen Who Died Of Self-Immolation)

Insanity... A word that entails in its meaning a universe of irrational and completely outrageous acts and thoughts that is incomprehensible to a normal mind.
I, only recently, was going through the news when an image,quite a paradoxical one,went by , of a woman completely immersed in flames and people in the surrounding running towards her trying to save her. Save from the world she was trying to get rid of. The very first word that popped up in my head was 'insanity'. It didn't last long, though.The emotions settling down deep within  made way for the sensitivity of the pain that lady went through.Soon it was over BBC webpage that the Pakistani sexually assaulted teen dies of self immolation.Apparently this reaction of the poor woman was courtesy of the fine judgement on part of our courts that set the devil rapist free of any guilt and ready to feed on another soul.
My writing an article here is neither to point out the latest developments nor is it to ensure justice be served to the defaulter.He would someday have to face the music himself too,let alone the judge.Allah is Akbar!
My typing out these words is merely an effort to solve the very anguish of perplexed kind, rising in my soul, of what that woman must have gone through as to have literally burnt herself alive?!
Lets just not kid ourselves.It maybe quite easy buying a liter of fuel and even easier pouring it all over yourself (considering how unfairly high the prices of fuel are for a poor man in our country),but it takes a far more hurt than hell fire to light up a match and throw it upon yourself! So what was that suffering that helped her take this audacious step.
Suicide and self pain is part of kufr in Islam so the judgemental clerics might already have declared her a kafir or maybe somebody never bound for paradise.But is it so?
The world sees her act from another perspective, not through her eyes. And so is the purpose of my writing. To try and realize what she went through,to unfold the extreme despair that made her self-immolate.
Hope sustains the world they say.Surely, hope must have deserted her heart.No wonder the miseries of this world got untenable.First was the rape, tearing apart her dreams and noble wishes.This  might have helped her arrange some fuel!
Next to come were the ugly remarks of society, fearless of God, further aggravating the pain, convincing her of getting a lighter fetched!
All she was left with was a final promise of consolidation at the hands of court that could have had the demon imprisoned. So she waits. Waits for something to stabilize her emotions.The lighter stays in,the bottle of petrol closed!
On comes  the actual catalyst moment that triggered lunacy . Court frees the beast to fly away with wings and live a respectable life! That would have been the final blow to her beliefs of this world.
I ,hitherto, thought its a world of colors and dreams.Any man can think optimistically since we all witness the same world.Unfortunately that was not the case for the victimized soul.She had tolerated the misery of getting raped and dilapidated dreams.She had survived the torment of so-called discernment through the day and distress of the night.When injustice traumatized her already tormented brain,it was more than enough.Her purpose was filled in this world, for there was no purpose left to live for.
Then comes that horrible moment of self immolation and men reaching out to save her and force her back into this world.What must have gone through her mind at that time caught in fire, only she and Allah knows.Dare my tiny cerebrum suggests she must still have not had any second thought about departing from her world!