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Archive for the ‘MY POETRY’ Category

TO BOTH THE LANDS I BELONG…


Yeah, my heart throbs alike for the two lands

Yeah, my love is equally blind for the two places

Yeah,  my voice   sings  songs  in  the two languages

Yeah,  my eyes see identical dreams for the two people

Yeah,  my lips whisper the same prayers  for  the two  nations

Yeah,  my mind worries for the peace  between the two neighbours

Yeah,  my heart aches on hearing  the hatred screamed by the two faiths

Yeah, my tears roll witnessing   the venom  spewed by  the two communites.

Yeah, I feel no difference between two names the world  calls  INDIA & PAKISTAN.

For,  the  hammock of my life hangs between these  two HOMELANDS.

“My deep connection to the land that is Pakistan had been renewed. I felt lucky to have both countries; I felt that I’d been given what partition had denied many. For me, it meant the possibility of a different education, of embracing the three-tier history of India whole, perhaps an intellectual troika of Sanskrit, Urdu and English.”

~Aatish Taseer in his book ” Stranger to History”

INDEED IT IS BEING LUCKY TO BELONG TO BOTH THE COUNTRIES.

A feeling which you can ‘feel’ only if you ‘ live’  it. But mind you , it doesn’t come in easily. One has to rise above a lot of prejudices, a very many stereotypes and take a lot of crap from so called ‘patriots’  from both the sides before you attain this feeling.

P.S. Unlike Aatish I  respect the reality and the existence of political border between the two countries but  dream of  ‘psychological’ borders’  erased between the two peoples.

I hope I live to see such a day.

Ilmana Fasih

17  January 2011

(Background: Am an Indian married to a Pakistani man, with two ferociously patriotic Pakistani kids who say:” We love India but we own Pakistan.”   As for me I love and own both the places).

Category:

India, MY POETRY, Pakistan, Personal, Poetry

SATAN LAUGHS, GOD CRIES


Dedicated to Dr Binayak, Salman Taseer, Wali Khan Baber, Julian Assange who suffer for their right cause and the scores of nameless target killed souls who pay the price of their mere existence.

When:
Standing for the oppressed turns you a rebel
Speaking for the repressed calls you an infidel
Seeking for the facts shows you the grave
To gag the truth these bigwigs crave
Born a different sect gets you killed
City’s morgues, with bodies, get filled

Then:
The good takes a backseat, the evil drives
Truthfulness suffers, falsehood thrives
Corruption becomes a vice, honesty a sin
The common man loses, the powerful win
And Barbarism lives, as Humanity dies
Alas! The Satan laughs, and God cries.

Ilmana Fasih
17 January 2010

Category:

India, International, MY POETRY, Pakistan, Poetry, Politics

WHO KNOWS WHAT LIES DEEP INSIDE THE HEART


A baby smiles at his mom
A bee sits on an orchid
An azure sea spans across the horizon
A doc looks at the sick patient
A moth stares at the lamp
Truth is in what you see
Who knows what lies deep inside their hearts.
…
The baby coos at his mama
The bee buzzes over the tulip
The wave screams as it hits the hard rocks
The doc counsels his sick patient
The moth whines over the light
Truth is in what you hear
Who knows what lies deep inside their hearts.
…
The baby clings to his mummy
The bee drinks up the nectar from the rose
The wave retreats back from the shore
The doc operates on his sick patient
The moth burns with the flame
Truth is in what really happens
Who knows what lies deep inside their hearts.
…
The baby feels calm sleeping in his maa’s lap
The bee feels contented with the honey it makes
The wave feels agitated as it hits the hard rocks
The doc feels proud as he treats his sick patient.
The moth feels hurt as it vanishes in the flame
No one sees, hears, or knows how they feel.
Because who knows what lies deep inside their hearts.

Category:

MY POETRY, Poetry

MY DREAM


 

Chalo haseen khaab ek banayein, ye khaab phir bana ke gungunayein.

Khayalon ko chalo zara sajayein, nashey mein kyon na jhoom jhoom jayein.

 

Let’s envision a dream, to hum to its musical notation

Adorn it with fulfillment, so dance to that intoxication.

 

I sing  for a dream of a world with NO wars, NO borders, NO discrimination and NO ill-health.
~Me

Category:

MY POETRY, Personal, Quotes

A journey of a boy’s mama


Whatever a woman happens to be—whether a home maker or a working woman, whether a successful or an ordinary woman—-if she is a mother of a boy as well, she will have to walk through the same journey that every ‘boy’s mama’ travels. The journey with girls is somewhat different. As they say, and I agree, you can raise 4 girls instead of one boy.

And the journey goes:
.
Test comes ‘positive’
Nause, morning sickness
Anxieties, apprehensions
Back aches, as weeks pass by
Yeyy, the angel kicks.
Oh what a feel!
Thy name is Mom.
…
Midnight heartburns
Pale eyes, puffy face
Torment of unease and fear
Pain progresses, as hours pass by
Wow, the baby cries aloud.
Oh what a bliss!
Thy name is Mama.
…
Hundreds of feeds
Thousands nappy changes
Restless days, sleepless nights
Burns out, as days pass by.
Yeah, the kiddo crawls, runs, jumps
Oh what a sight!
Thy name is Maa.
…
Baking favourite cookies
Reading bedtime stories
Lessons on good manners
Million scolds and hugs
Unending kisses on cuts n bruises
Shoes grow smaller, as years pass by
Aah, the naughty boy grows
Oh what a comfort!
Thy name is Ummi.
…
Daily tug of war
High spirited, roguish teen
Naggings on deaf ears
Endless worries and woes
For exam grades, as terms pass by
Pheww, the playful graduates .
Oh what a tranquility!
Thy name is Amma.
…
Constant vigil
Assertive, youthful
Heart breaking arguments
Amidst endless love, selfless care
A constant referee between Dad and him
Egos collide, generation gap manifests.
Differences pile, as life passes by.
Alas, a youngman, independent, comesforth
Oh what an atonement!
Thy name is Ammi.

Ilmana Fasih
Dec 26, 2010

Category:

MY POETRY, Personal, Poetry, Social Issues, Women

…YET SO DIFFERENT


Words are soft, words are loud
Words express humility, words show proud
Words are refined, words get uncouth
Words sound different from different mouths.
…
Smile taunts, smile praises
Smile lets down, smile raises.
Smile with perfect teeth, smile with braces
Smile appears different on different faces.
…
Love is silly, love is smart
Love strengthens, love tears apart.
Love stays selfless, love is selfish from the start
Love feels different in different hearts.
…
Mind remembers, mind forgets
Mind takes pride, mind regrets
Mind thinks active, mind lays dead
Mind works different in different heads.
…
Life lives, life dies
Life laughs, life cries
Life gives up, life tries
Life looks different through different eyes.
…………………………………..

Ilmana Fasih

18 December 2010

(Completing an old incomplete one).

Category:

MY POETRY, Personal, Poetry

BABY DAYS…


You were a little angel, so soft and pure
Always so thoughtful, and so very demure.
You have no idea, how much comfort it still brings
To reminisce the touch, on my face, of your tiny wings.
You were so caring and kind, to whoever you knew
And got more genteel, the older you grew.
I knew from day one, you were my best friend
For you were a special gift that God, indeed, send.
You were unique, and so precious like a pearl
So fresh and pure, more than just my LITTLE GIRL.

You gave me a reason to laugh everyday
By the pranks you played, in your unique way.
Banging doors, climbing on the table, jumping off the bed
All scolds fell on deaf ears, no matter what was said.
The hell of life turned into a heavenly bliss
When you came running, to blow you a kiss.
While crying out loud, for your bruised knee
You wrapped your arms, for a bear hug, around me.
And the tears of pain, turned into laughter and joy
So off you ran,yet for another prank, my LITTLE BOY.

Category:

MY POETRY, Personal, Poetry

ALL THAT MEANS SO MUCH TO ME…


Dignified distances where proximity doesn’t need to be,
Is the true source of pleasure that means so much to me.

Caring blankness where expressions don’t need to be,
Is the true face of contentment that means so much to me.

Gratifying cries where laughs don’t need to be,
Is the true sight of comfort that means so much to me.

Comforting taunts where praises don’t need to be
Is the true sound of repletion that means so much to me.

Satisfying indifferences where attention doesn’t need to be,
Is the true sense of complacency that means so much to me.

Acceptance of realities where fantasies don’t need to be,
Is the true sign of maturity that means so much to me.

Understanding silences where words don’t need to be,
Is the true gift of FRIENDSHIP that means so much to me.

Ilmana Fasih
18 December 2010.

Category:

General, MY POETRY, Personal, Poetry

YOU


A poem for my dear husband Fasih on his Birthday:

If out of moments, I could choose one
and keep it throbbing in my heart too
Of all the times that I have seen,
I’d pick the moment, I met you.

If out of associations, I could choose one
and keep it recollecting, as truely true,
Of all the friendships that I’ve ever had
I’d pick the amity, that I had with you.

If out of emotions, I could choose one
and keep it aflame, as always new
Of all the vibes that I have felt
I’d pick my ultimate love for you.

If out of embarrassments, I could pick one
and keep it cherishing as one of the few
Of all the blushes that we have shared
I’d pick the one, when I said ‘yes’ to you.

If out of events, I could choose one
and keep it reminding, as heavenly too
Of all the years that we have spent
I’d pick the day, I tied ’the knot’ with you.

If out of rages, I could choose one
and keep getting haunted by its horrors too
Of all the angers that I have spewed
I’d pick the one, that first fight with you.

If out of places, I could choose one
and that kept us warm and cosy too
Of all the abodes that we have lived
I’d pick the little nest, that I built with you.

If out of farewells, I could choose one
and keep regretting how we bid adeau
Of all the bye byes that we have exchanged
I’d pick the one, when I moved ‘here’ without you.
If out of dreams, I could choose one
and wish to keep it alive, forever too
Of all the million wishes that I have made
I’d pick the one, of reuniting again with you.

MISS YOU!

Have as GREAT A HAPPY BIRTHDAY as you can have without us.

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Category:

MY POETRY, Personal, Poetry

TO BE AND NOT TO BE


Be kind but not timid,
Be strong but not rigid.
Be thoughtful but not lazy,
Be different but not crazy.
Be proud but not arrogant,
Be firm but not impertinent.
Be witty but not mocking,
Be concerned but not stalking.
Be daring but not reckless,
Be coool but not headless.
Be hott but not injurious,
Be intense but not ferocious.
Be smart but not cheapy,
Be chic but not creapy.
Be stylish but not outrageous,
Be inspiring but not contagious.
Be awesome but not conceited,
Be accepting but not defeated.
Be as twinkling as a shining star,
But most of all, be the person you are…

Ilmana Fasih
18 November 2010

Category:

MY POETRY, Poetry, Social Issues, Women