"Tumhara pathar ka hai kyun dil?"

Jangalaat ko jalaa kar ham dhuwaan uraa rahay hain.

kashmiriyon k khoon say ham holi manaa rahay hain.

6 saal k bachay k badlay rupiye 600 bacha rahay hain.

Bas is sab main ham be-shaq insaan ki fitrat dikha rahay hain.

Phir puchtay ho k "tumhara pathar ka hai kyun dil?"

Khuwaab.

Thori dair lagi aankh khulnay main
Us darakht k beej ko bunnay main
Jab khuwaab ko apnay chor diya
Phir sakoon mila sach sunnay main

K khaali haath main betha hun
Is andheray ki aar main rehta hun
Per jald hi aankh khulay gi apni
Is khuaab say jaan churray gi apni

Wo khuaab k jis nay cheer diya
jeenay ka maqsad cheen liya
Wo khuaab k jis nay aas dilayi
Jis aas nay dil be taab kiya

Wo khuaab jo sirf aik jhoot tha
Zehan ki roshni ka loot tha
Jis khuaab main zarkhaizi thi
Wo khuaab nahi koi bhoot tha

تھوڑی دیر لگی آنکھ کھلنے میں

اس درخت کے بیج کو بننے میں 

جب خواب کو اپنے چھوڑ دیا 

پھر سکوں ملا سچ سننے میں 

کے خالی ہاتھ میں بیٹھا ہوں

اس اندھیرے کی آڑ میں رہتا ہوں 

پر جلد ہی آنکھ کھلنے گی اپنی 

اس خواب سے جان چھوٹے گی اپنی 

وہ خواب کے جس نے چھیڑ دیا

جینے کا مقصد چھین لیا

وہ خواب کے جس نے آس دلائ

جس آس نے دل بے تاب کیا

وہ خواب جو صرف ایک جھوٹ تھا 

ذہن کی روشنی کا لوٹ تھا

جو خواب بہت زرخیز ت ھا

وہ خواب نہیں کوئی بھوت تھا

Laminar.

Been riding in these gushes of wind.
Never cared for the destination.
Enjoying the stops every now and then.
Taking in the light without hesitation.

Who would've known id not last long.
The rays burned me inside.
Exterior seemed normal and strong.
But the former couldn't hide.

How are these heights daunting yet calm.
These winds a source of warmth yet cold.
The system is broken, could it be?
Or it never existed? seems to me.

The questions they run through my head.
Embedded with hatred and deceit instead.
Not the good ones, about me and you.
Love and purity or anything true.  

Damned.

Lately I've been having a hard time recognizing my purpose. I feel lost. Like all the things that i had thought i would be are becoming more like a vague memory. The distance between me and my goals are increasing exponentially. The potential that i once had has just vanished jnto thin air and it seems i am not really good at anything. With all of this, the only thing that is actually increasing is my lust for appreciation. For some reason without doing anything at all, i want to be given a reward. Someone telling me that i am doing a great job knowing all too well that i have done nothing at all.

Writing used to be a way out, an opening or a door to my inner peace. But door has somehow become too heavy for me to push and open. 

A broken reflection

The brain not used is rotten , that is what it seems mine is.

The body without a heart is auton, that is what it seems mine is.

The people not met are forgotten, that is what it seems i am.

My soul though bleeds often, but normal is what it seems i am.

I love my soldiers. the way they sacrifice their lives for us. the way the look evil in the eye and  tell it boldly, "not today". the way they try build weapons and make us a strong military power.  I love all of it. But. yeah, you guesses it right, there was gonna be a but.

But, that can never convince me to bring a military dictator in the government. It would never convince me to keep my mouth shut aagainst the atrocities that my beloved army men have committed. A badge doesnt make u a better human being, so why a superiority complex?

Even today you try entering any Cantt of today, they will look to you as some inferior race. "bloody civilians", thats how they like to put it. Armybrat. yeah. be proud of that. your father did good to defend our borders. if he did that, then i salute you. but if instead of doing that he was in some office and sipping his coffee and plottung on how to take over again, then I'm sorry you don't deserve any praise. Then you're just some cocky kid. Tell me, what good are you really?

lets go down the history lane, shall we?
when was Bangladesh born? 1971. and who was the ruler of the ever green country of ours? You can put all your blame on that bhutto guy, i give u that. he was a cocky bitch too, what can we say, society does affect your personality. But we all know, some choose to blind themselves of this though, that it was the great Field Marshal Ayub fucking Khan. the fucking ignorant piece of shit. 1965 war. bitch we lost that shit. if it weren't for the civilians sacrificing themselves, lahore and sialkot were fucking taken over by INDIA. (And wait.... why djd they even come here, yeah that aforementioned piece of shit had attacked siachin. ) but no praise is ever given to the civilians. they blew themselves up under the fucking tanks. but no one remembers them. The military leaders get more and more of the badges but the bloody civilians lived like peasants. Thats not even the worst of it. Our East pakistan was like that battery from rick and morty, working day and night only to realise that all their energy is taken from them inorder to have a good country in the west side. And when they got sick of it you decided to kill them. torturr them, rape their women. kill their students. a fucking genocide occured and then you wondered why would they they seek help from india? o they betrayed us? why would u do this to us? all that the military did was to create an illusion. take a fucking praise for a job not done at all. as my hero put it in great words, " sarhadon ki na paasbaani ki, ham say hi li daad jawani ki." I hate them. All of them. their sacrifices were all because of their own mistakes. 1965 war, we attacked india and suffered a loss. 1971 war, we kill Bengalis and india attacks us, we sufferes a heavy loss. the biggest loss in the history of wars. then came zia. built talibans that we are getting tortured by right now. Then came musharaf. had a war of kargil, suffered a loss again. And then tgis musharaf instead of having dialogue, gave America the freedom to bombard our land. How about balochistan? huh. what about it? Army has made sure no balochi ever lives to tell his tale. so many people missing and the only answer we ever get is that its done for the good of the nation. And then we wonder why balochis ever furious? And now you ask me to respect you? even today half of what happens in the country is controlled by men in boots. THEY HAVE NO FUCKING RIGHT TO BE IN CONTROL OF THE GOVERNMENT. none.

And about Imran vs Shehbaz (or whoever PMLN decides to put). i dont give a shit. I am happy with whoever comes. But whoever it is, has to have a backbone. should be able to look military in the eye and tell them   that there will be no dictation at all. SIMPLE.

wahan hi hain jahan kal thay

kis kis marhalay per likhun ga alfaaz, meray yaar
quetta ka aaj bhi hai wohi haal, jaisa kal tha
main roun bhi to kaisay roun? meray yaar
aaj bhi nafs murda hai, jaisay kal tha

کس کس مرخلے پر لکھوں گا الفاظ میرے یار
کوئٹہ کا آج بھی وہی ہال ہے جیسا کل تھا

میں رووں بھی تو کیسے رووں میرے یار
آج بھی نفس مردہ ہے جیسے کل تھا

zulm o sitam, kia cheez hai? naheen janta meray yaar
khoon tou sarkon per wesa hi hai, jaisay kal tha
maa ki god say jo dekh kar nikla, wohi sahi samjha meray yaar
mujh k kia maloom k zamana jaisa aaj hai na wesa kal tha

ظلم و ستم کیا چیذ ہے؟ نہیں جانتا میرے یار
خون تو سڑکوں پر ویسا ہی ہے جیسے کل تھا

ماں کی گود سے جو دیکھ کر نکلا، وہی صحیح سمجھا
مجھ کو کیا معلوم کے ذمانہ جیسا آج ہے نہ ویسا کل تھا

shaytan ko laga kar seenay say, chalay dhoondnay khuda ko
ilm o shaoor na ham main ab hai aur na hi kal tha
meray lafzon ko na umeedi mat samajhna meray yaar
piyaar mujha ko is mulk say aaj bhi wesa hai jaisay kal tha

شیطان کو لگا کر سینے سے، چلے ڈھونڈنے خدا کو
الم و شعور نہ ہم میں اب ہے اور نہ ہی کل تھا

میرے لفظوں کو نا امیدی مت سمجھنا میرے یار
پیار مجھے اس ملک سے ویسا ہی ہے جیسے کل تھا

Bol k lab azaad hain teray

kis mun say manaon main us din ko?
jab mulk na ab tak azaad hua
jo kehnay ko tou hai khushhaal buhat
bas in jhooton say ye mulk barbaad hua

کس منہ سے مناون اس دن کو؟
جب ملک نا اب تک آذاد ہوا
جو کہنے کو تو ہے خشہال بہت
بس اسی جھوٹ سے ملک  یے برباد ہوا

jahan nafrat ko ham piyaar kahain
jahan dhokay ko ham kaam kahain
jahan bachay zinda dafan hue
us mulk ko kaisay azaad kahain?

جہان نفرت کو ہم پیار کہیں
جہاں دھوکے کوہم کام کہیں
جہاں بچے ذندا دفن ہوے
اس ملک کو کیسے آذاد کہیں؟


jahan doodh main hamko milaap milay
jahan adl bhi bhi boree bhar kay chalay
jahan jawaan ki jaib bhi baari ho
wahan mulk bhala kaisay azaad rahay?

جہاں دودھ میں ہم کو ملاپ ملے
جہاں ادل بھی بوری بھر کے چلے
جہاں جوان کی جیب بھی بھاری ہو
وہاں ملک بھلا کیسے آذاد رہے

jahan sunni shia ka qatl karay
jahan masih ko ham bas iqbal kahain
jahan masih ko ham be naam karain
jahan balochi subh shaam gayib hon
un qatilon ko kaisay ham awaam kahain?
un munahidon ko kaisay ham salaam karain?

جہاں سنی شیا کا قتل کرے
جہاں مسیہ کو ہم بس اقبال کہیں
جہاں مسیہ کو ہم بے نام کریں
جہاں بلوچی سبھ شام غائب ہوں
ان قاتلوں کو کیسے ہم عوام کہیں؟
ان مجاہدوں کو کیسےہم سالام کریں ؟


goron say azaadi lay tou li
bas nafs say azaadi lay na sakay
jahan gunda gardi ka basera ho
wahan shaoor ki azaadi kaisay rahay?

گوروں سے آذادی تو لے لی
بس نفث سے آذادی  لے نا سکے
جہاں غنڈا گردی کا بسیرا ہو
وہاں شعور کی آذادی کیسے رہے؟


main alif say Allah tou parhta hun
phir bay per bay imaani karta hun
per bta kiya ab main jhoot likhoon?
is.mulk.ko.kaisay azaad kahoon?

میں "ا" سے اللہ لکھتا ہوں
پھر " ب" سے بے ایمانی کرتا ہوں
پر بتا کیا اب میں جھوٹ لکھوں؟
اس ملک کو کیا میں/کیسے آذاد کہوں؟

labyrinth

come to think of that, there was a dialogue from a movie i watched not long ago. what was it? ahh yeah! "under this mask, there is an idea and ideas are bulletproof."

horrifying, isn't it? the times have changed. a hero for one is a villain for another. its a constant war between the ideologies. killing a man? a leader? a representative? would it change anything? the only thing it would do is postpone the inevitable. killing militants, them killing our soldiers, our civilians being the casualties of war. bloodshed, thats ehat we are surrounded with. i like how i keep on jumping from one topic to another. never really knowing how and when i did that. its only when i read it again do i realise i completely went off track. is it ADHD? or is it just me looking for an excuse to justify my inability to write anything of worth? the latter seems to carry more weight.

i have been able to write raps or poems or whatever you'd like to call it. its just in the middle of being crap and being a proper piece. "actions reactions, reactions then sorrow.   time is the thing we wish we could borrow.   if i get a chance i would not do this again.  would fertile my soul, this empty barren plain. " this is something i wrote not long ago. i don't know how i come up to writing about stuff so depressing. it might be because i aint the happiest man out there, i have my fair share of problems and burden on my brain, but that doesnt justify each and everyone of my piece being about something negative. when have i ever written anything good? anything that didn't have to do with some kind of problems that i am currently facing.

lets start with the "dream" that i wrote the first time. no matter ehat i tell others, i know it in my heart to be true when i say this poem is about a severed bond between two lovers or friends. but back then i didntbhave any such problems. i had good friends and i never had a girlfriend this having no problems regarding breakup pain. so how did i end up writing that? then i wrote about the toilet seat. Ah yeah, havent heard about that in a long long while. what was it again? aham, sitting on a toilet seat thinking ehat to write, there's a huge bunch of sheeps in a town near sea side. i know that makes no sense, but believe me i am a guide." whoa now what was it about? well if my memmory serves i necer got a chance to comolete that  one. i got lost in other things that innever paid heed to this unfinished business of mine. someday i would write this one down. someday.

what did i write next? damn you Ahmad for having a such a bad memory. what was it? focus. focus. well an image of a man in a pub is forming in my head. yeah i did write something relating that, which i guess i later on altered it to write about karachi attacks. ah yeah, got it. it went something like this; " the day that youb thought, it couldn't get any worse. came a person with a knot, and a large red purse. height wasnt that short but kept on getting cursed. ordered a few shots sat there with a nurse" thats as much as i could recall. you aren't as bad as i considered you to be (i am n taking with myself). i have also written about the people being butchered day ib day out. our brothers die, the life goes on.  nothing left to cry, the life goes on. and when we finally won the decima i wrote something about real madrid. that was the first time i wrote something that wasn't depressing. it was that and the time that i wrote something for saad did i write something that didn't want to kill yourself.  ahh when i came here i also wrote something about duygu. yeah those days i kinda had a crush on her. i don't remember the words properly but it had somrthing relating her hair and how they were tied up in a bun. nah can't recall it. i also made some attempts to write another piece similar to that of "the dream" but i couldn't do so untill this semester. i have wrtten some good ones. i also wrote two pieces on the oeshawar attacks. they bring tears in my eyes every time i read it.

Old Age; a perfect definition of torment

Awake. in the middle of the night, I am.
Forsake. by the world in this empty land, I am.
ache. my brain, my body, my soul. it does.
break. my bones, my will, my hope. it does.

Now when i sit back and recall

Where did all my time go?
I used to be smart, always cared about the future though.
thought it'd be hard so i decided to stay low.
but now when i sit back and recall...
the children i thought would never grow
the friends that i made and that imaginary foe
where is my memory? where did my time go?

now when i sit back and reminisce
moving in my rocking chair, hardly making a hiss
thought, thought id stay young forever
fun can wait, studies you better savor
now when i sit back and recall
a dive in my past seems more like a fall
i lived like a robot, doing what was asked
throughout my life my feelings, they remained masked
never thought id say this but
where did my time go?
where did all my time go?