Regret

 

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

those horrible sights, those thorns beneath the flowers
these sleepless nights, these long lasting hours
what have i done to ever diserve this?
i might be dumb, but ignorance is no bliss

i have suffered enough, wish this could stop now
the life seems tough, its time i finally bow
i remember the words; they haunt me at night
"don't do this to youself; it will be a plight...

...pay no heed to this sadness, for soon it'll be over
happiness is around the corner; let the veil take its time
for everything good, will finally come alas
patience my friend, soon it'll pass."

Wohi

 Zamana tou chal raha hai, per tum kyun tham gaye ho?

Wohi halaat hain pyaaray, hakim bhi wohi hain, mazloom bhi wohi.

Qaseeda parhtay thay jinka tum raat din, faiz bhi wohi hain, jalib bhi wohi.

Per Nigah tumhaari kisi aur simt hai maazay, warna takhta bhi wohi hai, qalm bhi wohi.

Ye jaan lena k ye;

Soch hai tou tum hou.

Ehsaas hai tou tum hou. 

Izhaar hai tou tum hou.

Alfaaz hai tou tum hou.

زمانہ تو چل رہا ہے ، پر تم کیوں تھم گئے ہو ؟

وہی حالات ہیں پیارے ، حاکم بھی وہی ہیں ، مظلوم بھی وہی .

قصیدہ پڑھتے تھے جن کا تم رات دن ، فیض بھی وہی ہیں ، جالب بھی وہی .

پر نگاہ تمھاری کسی اور سمت ہے مازای ، ورنہ تختہ بھی وہی ہے ، قلم بھی وہی .

یہ جان لینا کے یہ ;

سوچ ہے تو تم ہو .

احساس ہے تو تم ہو .

اظہار ہے تو تم ہو .

الفاظ ہے تو تم ہو .

Aba jan

 

Abhi kal raat ko hi ki thi khuda say iltija
Aye khuda sun lay meri dua. inhay sakoon dila
Kab say mazoor hain, rotay hain bin ansu k
Dila day inko in ki naikiyon ka sila. Inhain Sakoon dila



Its been a month. And i stay awake recalling that night over and over again. Was i really that stupid?no no, stupid aint the word. Insensitive. Pathetic. A heartless monster. These suit me well. See thats what hindsight does. Make you regret your actions. And its due to this event and this event only that i no longer a fan of it. What hell he went through, it were only a few who witnessed it. I still remember that night vividly. Asking myself if i would pull a plug on him or not? How heartless of me. But at that moment it was a genuine question. I knew what he had been through  and what he will continue to go through

5 minute ki jhalki

Ye khabrain, zulm aur afsaanay

Ye panch minute ki jhalki hai

Yahan sabeeh aa jatay hain

Yahan tou tum bhi aaoo gay

Do bol khushi k gaao gay

phir lambay gam sunao gay

Phir agli jhalki aaye gi

Pichli kou "qissa" banaaye gi

Phir kya bana yan kyun huwa?

Sab bhool bhula k jaye gi.

Phir zainab, baloch yan mangi ho

Yan aglay aanay waali ho

Sab 5 minute ki jhalki hai

Phir agli mirchi chalti hai.

Phir kya bana yan kyun huwa?

Sab bhool bhulai jaati hai.

Ham andar say sab murda hain

Matti k banay bas putla hain.

Baatain buhat si kartay hain

Kyun, kya, kab; sab batlaatay hain

Per phir jab agli jhalki aati hai

Aur ham Sab kuch bhulaa jaatay hain.

یہ خبریں ، ظلم اور افسانے

یہ پانچ منٹ کی جھلکی ہے

یہاں سب ہی آ جاتے ہیں

یہاں تو تم بھی آئو گے

دو بول خوشی کے گاؤ گے

پِھر لمبے غم سناؤ گے

پِھر اگلی جھلکی آئے گی

پچھلی کو " قصہ " بنائے گی

پِھر کیا بنا یا کیوں ہُوا ؟

سب بھول بھلا کے جائے گی

پِھر زینب ، بلوچ یا مانگی ہو

یا اگلے آنے والی ہو

سب پانچ منٹ کی جھلکی ہے

پِھر اگلی مرچی چلتی ہے

پِھر کیا بنا یا کیوں ہُوا ؟

سب بھول بھلائی جاتی ہے

ہَم اندر سے سب مردہ ہیں

مٹی کے بنے بس پتلا ہیں . 

باتیں بہت سی کرتے ہیں

کیوں ، کیا ، کب ; سب بتلااتے ہیں

پر پِھر جب اگلی جھلکی آتی ہے

 اور ہَم سب کچھ بھلا جاتے ہیں.

Curiosity

For curiosity or whatever, I had to ask;

Why do men do, what they do?

They rape women, children and men too. They do.

Kill for money for power for lust too. They do.

Pollute air, water and land too. They do.

The curiosity provoked me and into this abyss i fell;

For I abuse too, to be loved.

For I butcher too, to be heard.

For I taint too, I do.

Because I do too, what they do.

-Ahmad Moaz

"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.