Uncomfortably Numb

 

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

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

While I was working nearby my wife was on the phone with her mother and the topic was the Minar e Pakistan incident.  The sheer outrage and fear in that conversation hit me hard and is perhaps what's on the minds of every thinking human being left in Pakistan.  No amount of analyzing can hide the fact that this is it, these times we live in are the rock bottom we all feared we were headed towards, there is no more going down from here. No amount of sugar coating can hide the fact that this is a nation of worst creatures ever to roam the earth, I find no words that can actually describe the depravity of soul and the loss of the very last shreds of human decency, this mob is an insult to the word humanity. What a loss, what a shame, to those who still believe these incidents to be isolated, how mistaken you are!  When will you realize that this is the reality of this country. These people are the majority, the mob is the law. There is no enlightened silent majority that will wake up

Don't read this, it maybe gibberish to you but its the state Im in. I feel like all that's bottled up in me needs an outlet. I write poems without context but I don't want to give context either. Its like part of me wants to tell the world my story and a part of me just wants to forget.  I look around and the superficiality is painful. I see mockups of what real people used to be. I see relics of what once was exciting. Sometimes I want to scream at the top of my lungs and name names of those who wronged me, who stood there and did nothing when they could have stopped what was right in front of them.  But they took sides, I don't want to see their faces anymore but I can't escape, stuck here in this prison, this black hole. This  city just sucks the life out of you.  But thats just one stream of thought that haunts my mind, there are others, a blend of disgust and indignant resignation.  People running ... just running towards what they can get, possessions... or st

You said that I would remember I do for all the wrong reasons I feel the despair creeping in endless abyss I am sinking in almost wished to stop breathing every breath familiar aching something is pulling me down as if the weight is pushing I am falling I am falling I cannot stop I cannot breath you let me down and went away how can I forget & stop grieving how can I ask to your face now what did you get for deceiving emptiness left when love dies hearts in despair & silent cries what keeps me awake I am not sure I hate you or love you like before part of me wants you to suffer like all those sleepless nights part of me just wants to let go but how can I stop remembering with every memory tainted now this is what drags & kills me I write laments thats who I am no one will or can understand

I think I'm not that old but when I grew up we had family gatherings which were about well, gathering... Most vivid and cherished memories of my younger years are the family get togethers we used to have at our house, sometimes paaye party and sometimes it would be a BBQ and sometimes just Halwa Puri with channas . The food was exquisite but the memories are not about the food or the venue, they are about the happiness and joy that was felt to be surrounded by loved ones. The elders would sit in the veranda on charpois and talk about stuff, family, politics, and life, one uncle would share a joke and another would tell about some funny moments in their lives. Not once would the price of something would come up or what the set decoration of the venue was or how big the cake was. No show, no competition. Fast forward to current times we have birthday planners now, extravagant halls are being booked for what used to be simple religious or family events and everything is for show, e