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Archive for the ‘MY POETRY’ Category

The Flawless Purse: Dilemma of Consumerism

In style she clutched a glossy purse,
Tight between her hand and her chest,
Protecting it from falling or
From being scratched,
From the pointed necklace
Around her own neck.
She had saved for years,
And dreamed of even longer
To own this branded gem.
She holds on to it firm,
Yet all tender, all protective,
Like a beautiful relationship,
Between two souls,
Knowing how hurt,
The purse can get,
When there are bruises
And that the purse
shall never be the same,
if held back after it falls.
So precious, and so priceless,
She finally owns a flawless dream.
But oh for the flawed souls,
They come and go in our lives.




Andhon ko unka chehra dikha diya hai Malala ney,
Jehad dar-asl kya hai, sikha diya hai Malala ney.

Jahalat sey hai jang, jata diya hai Malala ney,
Taleem  hai farz-e-momin, bata diya hai Malala ney

Soye huwe seenon ko jaga diya hai Malala ney,
 Khoye huwe iman se, mila diya hai Malala ney.

Payam-e-Amn duniya ko, suna diya hai Malala ney,
Her shakhs  ko Malala, bana diya hai Malala ney.


The blind(ignorant) have been shown their real face by Malala,
What is true struggle, has been taught to us by Malala.

The real fight is against ignorance, has been asserted by Malala.
Education is an obligatory duty of the believers, is reminded, by Malala.

Apathetic hearts have been shaken awake  by Malala.
The lost message of faith  has been rediscovered by Malala.

The message of Peace to the world  has been conveyed by Malala,
Each one of us feels Malala, has been made possible by Malala.

Humbled these verses have been included in the anthology: Malala: The poems on Malala Yusufzai, released on the first anniversary of her tragic targeting on October 9, 2013.

An act impure

Written in the context of Rimsha Masih, the 11 year old accused for blasphemy, and sent to jail for that:

In the Land of the Pure,
A minor has dared an act impure.
Her feeble mind, designed a devil,
Her tiny hands, enacted an act so evil.
Divine here are the laws that reign,
Virtuous is the blazing anger insane.
Swords of revenge are laid bare,
Dream to live, she better not dare.

Forgotten, is the kindness to minors,
That Prophet(pbuh) had preached.
Ignored, is the lesson of forgiveness.
The Holy Book has revealed.
Dismissed, is the spirit of mercy,
The Supreme Power upholds.
For in the Land of the Pure,
A minor has dared an act impure.

News reads  :

“Rationality ka janaza hai, zara dhoom se nikley”

The heading was the best tweet, I found on #waterkit. ( Courtesy: Urooj Zia).

There have been few moments in my ‘virtual’  life, when Tweets have been so hilarious.

#waterkit hashtag was  tragically comical.

Based upon the dialogues exchanged in an epic  TV program on this invention, I could not help summarise it this way:

Ye qissa hai Physics key balatkar ka
Aur Waterkit se chalne waali ek car ka
Jab mil baithe syaane chaar
Do minister, ek scientist, ek Engr Waqar

Dikhaya aisa duniya ko chamatkar
Petrol , Bijli sub huwe bekaar
Karwayein kyun Auto-specialists se inspection
Kya kee hai kisi ne pehle aisee invention

Mamoo ban gaye anchors Talat-o-HamidMir
Aur Dr AtaUrRehman huwe lakeer ke faqeer
PhDiyaan sabki ho gayein fuzool
Koora huwe Thermodynamics ke usool

Theory nahin hum practical ko maante hain
“Water is H20”, kya aap ye raz jaante hain
Wikipedia se hum ne kiya hai confirm
H2O se Hydrogen nikalne ka irada hai firm.

Faqat jahalat ki rail-pail hai
Sub moh-maya ka khel hai.
Duniya hansegi to hansti rahey,
Gumrahi ki gari buss chalti rahey.

Nirala Sawera

Dedicated to the events :  

Pledge for Peace Launch in UTM, Mississauga, ON.

Aug 14-15, 2012 Pakistanis, Indians, celebrate Independence Day for Peace!/events/243690589069619/

Nafrat ki gathri ko mein ney
Phenk diya hai gireh laga ker
Hasrat se ab khol rahi hoon
Yaadon bharey iss thailey ko
Pyaar ki taaza hawa lagaane
Aman ki roshan dhoop dikhane.

Tum bhi aao, kholo apni
Saari gaanthein, saare bull
Tum bhi apne jholey mein se
Bujhe huwe woh deep nikalo
Un yaadon ke, un baaton ke
Un qisson ke, jo itne zyada
Dohratey the jab Nana Dada
Chehre unke damka jaate the
Ankhein unki chamka detey the.

Usee dhamak ki roshni mein tar
Usee chamak ki lau ko lekar
Mein bhi apna deep jalaaoon
Tum bhi apna diya jalaao
Roshan phir se rahon ko ker dein

Taaron se  khwabon ko bher dein.

Apna apna diya jalaa ker
Saare apne dard bhulaker

Mil ker jab sub saath chalenge
Haath me lekar haath chalenge
Dhal jayegi ghurbat ki sham
Ho paayegi khush haali aam.

Lekin saw nahin, hazaar nahin,
Saath her ek ko chalna hogaa.
Sirf mera ya tumhara nahin,
Diya her ek ka jalna hogaa.
Karoron diye jo saath jalenge,
Dil mein nai umang bharenge.
Pher door jab andhera hogaa,

To kya nirala yeh SAWERA hoga.

Ilmana Fasih
June 6, 2012

A poet’s paradise

I forsake
My turf, my roots
I severed
My strings, my ties
As I walked, I erased
All my paths, for retreat
I carried along
No regalia, no paraphernalia
Possessed by a dream
Of a Shangri-la
A pie in the sky
A vision
Where I’ll be yours
You shall hold me, own me.
‘Peace’ was our faith.
So we shall be ‘ONE’.
Decades on
I stay for you
A ‘naked’ stranger
A ‘hungry’ immigrant.
You remain to me
A true mirage
A false promise.
I should’ve known
It was but
A poet’s paradise.

I love Red, for Red is Me.

I love red,
For red is me.

Red is the embarrassment
I bring to your face, mother,
By the news of my arrival
Putting  at stake your survival.

Red is the blood that is spilled,
When my dreams are killed,
As I am returned to my tomb
While still asleep in the womb.

Red is the roaring rage
That gets out of cage,
By my sins that bring, father,
A shame to your ‘honour’.

Red is the anger that
Descends in your eyes, brother
When I whisper for my rights
Or spread my wings for a flight

Red is the bundled bride I am,
When passed off as a parcel
From one man, my father
To another, my life partner.

Red is the dot of vermillion
Stamped on my forehead,
That is  for the world to see,
That my man, you own me.

Red is the blush on my cheeks,
A million words of my candor it shrieks
My man when your lust you quench
While in the fantasy of love I drench

Red is the fire set ablaze,
When a truck load of dowry
Fails to fill, my master
The castle of your greed.

Red are the bruises that scream
Of my battered self-esteem,
From the circle of abuse, my protector
You inflict on my being.

This is exactly why I love red,
For every shade of red is me.

Foot note: Dedicate these scribbled verses to millions who face gender discrimination from the day their birth is mourned, to millions more lost through Female feticide, honor killings, victims of violence against women, rape, and any or every form of abuse endured merely for being born a woman. 



The Violin

The bow of my thoughts,
Glides hard
on the strings
Within the chest.
Triggers a convulsion
Fatal fibrillations ensue.
‘In arrest’ go
The pulsations of peace.
The notes scatter
helter skelter
Vexing with cramps
Of violent agony.
Music, is it?
Or cacophony perhaps?
Even I can’t decipher
From the violin
Of my heart.

If I ever met God…

If I ever met God
I would hug Him
For making me ‘me’.
And would thank Him
Over and over a million times
For granting me
Eyes to see the beauty of nature
Ears to hear the melodies of joy
Senses to give and take love
But shall return Him with ‘Thanks’
My bundle of conscience
And walk back merrily.

If He said, “No”
I would leave at his feet,
My eyes, my ears and my senses
For I have endurance no more
To look into the eyes of hunger
Or hear the clamour of hatred
Or sense the angst of pain

If He still said,”No”,
I would pull Him by his hand
And bring Him down on Earth
To face it all ‘first hand’.

Sanity, hold on.

The serpent of anguish slithers,
As peace within withers.
Turmoil, into the soul, seeps
As composure weeps.
Insomnias creep,
Night after night, deep.
Drifting from reality to delusion,
In a surreal confusion.
Psyche jolted in a quake,
Oh! prudence do not forsake
And keep me awake,
For sanity’s at stake.

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