Open up your mind and your potential reaches infinity…

Archive for 2011

Who Am I ?


Who Am I?

I am a bit of everyone who crossed my path,
I am a trace of each who traversed my mind,
I am a mark of all those who touched my heart,
I am a streak from tracks where my life has jogged,
I am a speck of stain from those who bruised my effigy,
I am even a bitsy dent from those who jolted my mettle,
Altogether, I am a flavor of all the sweet n bitter I’ve savored.
Nevertheless, I’m a grain that stays put in life’s harshest storms.

 

A video I found while searching for a pic for the above words ‘Who Am I ?’

Irresistibly captivating. Simple yet so meaningful.

Category:

Art, General, Poetry

Silence Speaks


Silence ain’t silent
It whispers
It screams
Louder than words.
Fills up the space
Faster than noise
Reaches the ears
Quicker than voice

Silence is speech,
Immutable.
Silence is argument,
Irrefutable.
Silence is wisdom,
Unchallengeable.
Silence is courage,
Indomitable.

Silence thrills
It even kills
Those who dare
To choose to hear
The loud shreaks
When silence speaks.

I keep mum
When I scream
My tongue wags
But I fail to speak.
Whispers, screams
Cause but noise

What really speaks
A million words
Is the speech
Of the silence.

P.S. When it comes to the greater good of mankind–ALWAYS SPEAK AS LOUD AS YOU CAN.
When it comes to personal matters–Speak through silence as no one needs to hear you but YOU.

Category:

MY POETRY, Personal

High hopes, Some hope, Hopelessness


“It shall pass.”
“Dawn shall break.”
“Light shall shine.”

Hearts sang songs
Minds saw dreams
Hopes stood tall.

It hasn’t yet passed.
Dawns hasn’t yet arrived.
Light hasn’t yet shone.

Hearts are silent.
Minds have shrunk.
Hopes’ backs are bent.

Will it ever pass?
Will dawn ever break ?
Will light ever shine?

Hearts shall stop.
Minds shall fail.
Hopes shall rest in graves.

Generation after generation
Has passed in this cycle of–
High hopes, some hope, hopelessness.

How I still wish:
It would pass.
Dawn would break.
Light would shine
SOME DAY.

Penned to echo the feelings of 180 million Pakistanis living in ‘hope’ for the last 6 decades and over. The streak of hope still sparks off and on amid hopelessness.

Category:

MY POETRY, My world, Pakistan, Poetry, Politics

What’s Hell, if not this ?


I know what’s hell, I live right there,
It’s darkness, despair, depression everywhere.
In heat of hatred and flames of bigotry I burn
Where injustice and intolerance are all I discern

Tall, dark, ugly shadows walk all over my mind,
Looking around, graves, just fresh graves are all I find.
Graves filled with quiet remains, of voices who cared,
Ruthlessly were they silenced, because they dared.

Is there anything to live for? Any hope? Any light?
Where chirpy birds are preyed, to vampire bats’ delight.
Air gets scant, scantier with each following breath,
As if getting close and closer to a smothered death.

What’s there to live for, with throats all gagged?
Better to pass myself, before to my grave I’m dragged.
They say dawn shall break, and the long night shall pass,
Have you ever seen a morning, where souls sleep enmasse?

Dedicated to the sad sad kidnapping and murder of Syed Saleem Shahzad.

Category:

MY POETRY, Personal, Poetry, Politics

On Being Master of Emotions


In the emotional universe we inhabit.
Each of us make our own weather,
Paint our own rainbows of imagination
Determine the color of our dreams
Create our own seasons in the heart
Control the temperatures of our mind
Divert the direction of our life’s storms

If I feel depressed I will sing.
If I feel sad I will laugh.
If I feel ill I will double my labor.
If I feel fear I will plunge ahead.
If I feel inferior I will wear new garments.
If I feel uncertain I will raise my voice.
If I feel poverty I will think of wealth to come.
If I feel incompetent I will think of past success.
If I feel insignificant I will remember my goals.
Today I will be the master of my emotions.
~Og Mandino

Emotions are like waves.We cannot do much to control their flow. But we can choose which ones to surf..

Category:

Poetry, Quotes, Uncategorized

If I was a Concorde…


If I was a concorde, I would:

Fly with the turbojet of myriad aspirations,
And takeoff to the skies of fathomless imagination.
With supersonic pace, soaring in blissful thoughts,
Reaching to heights where no one could ever get caught,
Into  the tornadoes of bigotry, hate and intolerance,
To an altitude beyond darkness of misery, chaos, ignorance.
Supercruising over the clouds of dreams, desires and hope,
Beaming to have left behind the slow walk on life’s tight rope.
True to my name that spells nothing but ‘unity’ and ‘harmony’,
Vowing to not crashland on a strip metalled with woe and agony.
Hovering over the hills where kindness and love are nourished
Yearning to touchdown where everlasting PEACE is cherished.

PS: Concorde jet’s name, it’s meaning ( means harmony, unity), appearance, speed, and numerous other details have fascinated me since very young. Clearly remembering the first commercial flight in 1976 from Paris to Rio (in my preteens), the crash in 2000 at De Galle Airport, and finally it’s grounding, the fascination fails to wane.

Category:

International, MY POETRY, Peace, Poetry

Kaun tha Woh…


Koi pooche kaun tha main,
Tum keh dena koi khas nahin,
Ek sach tha jhoota moota sa,
Ek jhoot khatta meetha sa,
Buss ek dost kacha pakka sa.

Muhsay koi pooche kaun tha woh,
Main keh doonga baat wohi,
Ek gul tha taro taaza sa,
Ek jhonka, thandi hawa ka,
Buss ek mazaaq halka phulka sa.

Category:

Uncategorized

Meaning of Life…


Life ain’t a mere living,
To wake, to sleep morning evening.
Laden with struggle, sweat and strife.
Tis’ not just to live, but to get a life.

Life to a newborn…
Is a warm embrace on mother’s chest.
Life to a teenager…
Is ‘fit in’ entree into a gang of friends.
Life to an old parent..
Is care and attention from a loving child.
Life to an orphan..
Is a tight hug from a caring arms.
Life to a disabled..
Is self reliant life with honour and dignity.
Life to a labourer..
Is a just wage before the sweat dries.
Life to a beggar ..
Is two square meals each day.
Life to a homeless..
Is a warm sleep in a chilly winter night
Life to a druggie..
Is a syringe load of ‘dose’ gushing through the veins.

Differing in spirit from soul to soul
Unique is the meaning of life in each role.

As pointed by my blogger friend Waltersmith, indeed the:
Life to a druggie…
Is freedom from the compulsive craving for the ‘dose’.

Category:

MY POETRY, Personal, Poetry, Uncategorized

Today I Visited my Home


Today I visited
My true home
A real place that is
My permanent address
The house that I shall
Reside sooner or later

A home that needs
No furniture, no crockery
A home where I shall crave
No wardrobe, no accessories
A home large enough
To give rest and comfort
Never felt in any castle.

A home ventilated
With peace and tranquility
A home proofed against
Greed and vanity.
A home where my companions
Shall be my deeds.

A home with it’s simplicity
That gets me humbled
A home whose modesty
Makes me see the truth
Of what’s life about.

A home that knows me
Neither rich nor poor
Neither young nor old
Neither healthy nor sick
But eagerly awaits me
Whoever I am

A home that is ever ready
To hold me within its lap
Today , tomorrow, any day.
Today I visited
My true abode,
Of my mortal remains
My grave -to-be.

Category:

MY POETRY, Peace, Poetry

Peace Not War, We Crave


Moms weep, “My son, my son.”
Hearts pierced with daggers of pain,
Embracing sons, blood soaked uniforms adorn

Dads moan,”My boy, my boy.”
Tears dried up within their eyes,
As they lay in graves their bundles of joy.

Wives wail, “My man, my man.”
Receiving hubbies in the caskets asleep,
To a final journey, departing forever from their women.

Friends sob, “My buddy, my buddy.”
With brains stunned in utter disbelief,
Knowing they embraced martyrdom standing sturdy.

We all cry, ” Our brave, our brave.”
Horrified how our land with its innocent, burns in terror
It’s for everlasting PEACE, and PEACE NOT WAR we crave.

PS: Penned down in memory of the brave men who laid their lives fighting against the terrorists in PAF Base Faisal, Karachi, and all others who have lost their lives while being front line in the fight against terrorism.

Category:

MY POETRY, Pakistan, Peace, Poetry, Politics

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