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Memories of Pindi/Islamabad

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There was a workshop near Faizabad Pindi it was my uncle's I would just hang around watching mechanics working on the cars and me working on that 386 computer, I used to love the place where they would do the wheel balancing cause it had stairs going underground... It felt mysterious.  Now that I think of it, this wasn't probably a good place for a child with all the machines and stuff... But I loved it... Specially the really really old cars that were there for ages and the smell of petrol mixed with different oils. My cousin used to throw bricks on one of them to show how strong the metal was... He would say ajkal to ghee ke dabay ke teen se bodies banatay hain, saath taik laga lo to chib par jata hay  They had a few foxys but the yellow one was my fav, it had that modified race car steering wheel... And man that sound system with the graphic eq uff... The sound in a foxy surrounds you due to the round shape of the roof... and since the engine is at the back anyway no engine

Trapped

Wanting something That you can never have Why do we keep running In circles What is hiding inside Can never come out What is outside Fake Emptyness Despair Feeling worthless Ache These are the Impossible ways That have no meaning One's self deceiving There are no doors No paths to flee trapped inside Memories 

یاد

 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

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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.

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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

Companion

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