تم اگر باوفا ہوتے تو کم از کم تمہارے جانے کا  ماتم تو کرپاتا تم اگر باوفا ہوتے تو شاید زندگی تمہارے ساتھ ہی  ختم ہو جاتی تم اگر باوفا ہوتے تو تمہاری ہر یاد داغدار نہ بن جاتی ہر بات سوال نہ بن جاتی تم اگر باوفا ہوتے تو شاید ہر حسین یاد حسین رہتی لیکن تم نے تو میرے کئی قتل کئے اورں کے لئیے  مسیحا بن بیٹھے ایسے چہرے تو نہ بدلتے اگر تم با وفاہوتے

Nine Years

A lot can happen in nine years sometimes shed less tears for its no use living in memories things now happen with ease Things that I wished I would see For you to grow up a tall tree I don't know what I have missed you never went away from my heart A lot can happen in nine years could have beens walk around me In your peers Sometimes I fear the memory is fading Becoming distant so I can't grasp it But then I realize you live within me A part of me how much I mask it You were my first one my bundle of joy The moment I looked at you so little like a toy Eyes so bright full of love my sweet little boy A lot could happen in nine years But the one thing that cannot happen Is that I will never stop missing you

Wait. let's just breethe.

This summer is the hottest as long as I can remember but tempers run even higher. We see divides being enforced, our biases being re-enforced. I don't want to waste time on arguing on who is wrong or who is right. There are endless arguments & counter arguments and no one is listening to each other. In my opinion, they are all liars (the politicians, the religious gate keepers and anyone who sells faith or hope) and we blindly follow, happy in our preferred echo chambers, but the question which I want to ask is, Is it worth it? Have we learned nothing from history? From logic from knowing how things work? All I know is that, whoever sells hatred is at the wrong side of history. If we try to look at things objectively we find the real cost of it all, the loss of humanity and civility, the very things that separate us from animals. We act like mindless zombies on both sides of the narrative never asking, who does this narrative actually benefit. We argue among ourselves, with our

Once upon a sad night

What hides in plain sight riddles lie behind the eyes What you never saw above Underneath the shared skies What sorrows erupt as tears Some stay dormant as time flies words said become gashes Deeper sharper than knives Once upon a sad night No one heard my sighs You had left much earlier than the world choose to surmise The world makes some saints Bearing all quietly some reside That lost secret crafted so well As if there was nothing to hide what of my heart splintered words said with deluded pride Burning this way forever With no way to equalize



Rock Bottom

Truth is truth... it doesn't need elaborate explanations... the more someone has something to hide the more intricate the story becomes... because it is designed... truth is like a sharp blade it has the power to cut through to the heart in one simple sweep... Social media has made all of us judges, jury and executioners... we have forgotten due process and form our opinions based on our perceived semantics, we are too quick to label, dismiss or condemn. We don't even posses a single neuron capable of critical thinking and logic. I've been writing about the facades we build to deceive ourselves and others for years, but that was just an exercise of thought, coming face to face with the actual grim realities is a nightmare much worse. Its mind boggling to me how people can brush off realities with such ease, how we are able to ignore, distort, or fabricate truths to our needs. How can hearts not explode when they see cruelty to others, if we don't have the power to stop

Daddy ji - #memories of a daughter

Sometime ago I asked my brothers and sister to share their memories of our father, so my sister sent me this. I don't think I can add anything more to it, its wonderful as it is...  I am so happy to be writing about daddy jan. I just used to call him daddy. I don't think he liked being called anything else. When l think of daddy jan it brings a smile to my face. I remember him as a very fun loving easy-going person. He genuinely liked people and respected them. I remember he loved fishing. When in Rabwah he would go  with his friends . He would disappear for a few days then on his return he would hand me the sac  of fish. It would be my responsibility to clean them and then fry them under mum's supervision. He had made a special de-scaler with some nails on a piece of wood.  I still remember the crunchy fried fish. Better than KFC. He loved  kids and loved playing cards. My earliest memories of him Playing card are from Saudi  Arabia where he combined the two loves. When I