Sunday, 16 October 2011

Human Remains

The human remains were found  near a large water body besides the woods. They all were immediately drawn towards the muddy puddle stinking like the human wastes as their nostrils were sensitive for such smells. They were the experts of an international investigation team, which was generally meant to explore the causes and effects of different natural disasters of their own planet happening since the arrival of the first human on the earth.

They all were eminent spectators, reporter, narrators of all the happenings discovered and undiscovered, told, untold and retold.

They all were great admirers of happenings and of  each other for their only source of living was living on eachother….!

They all were struggling to survive in the land of their own laws and orders. They all had beated many theories of past, present and future including the best known theory of the survival of the fittest. They all were followers of some kind of ‘ism’, if not Darwinism, necessarily, yet they all claimed to hate Idolism.

So it could be self-ism, quite a new introduction , in terms of the philosophical perceptions, to actually look into the mirror of selfish desire they all hold to themselves, while picturing others. It satisfied  the hollowness of the statues of their own egos.

They all were Godless and were making others scared of God (s)….!
They all were sinful, yet they were counting other’s sins….!!


They all were very well equipped with modern facilities and tacts and knew, when, why, where and how to prey upon the current affairs, like greedy vultures, looking for the suffering, dying, and the dead. of-course.

They always had been helping them to suffer and die in a better way, according to their own perspectives.

Their stomachs were filled with fast and the junk food and their mouths were acidic due to reflexes holding their own vomits. Everything that went , had went and came out making the unholy, un holier! It was the matter of what went in, actually went in their stomachs for centuries and had been coming out from the single orifice.

 They all were zombies without hearts and  no brains., clones and copies of each other!

They were very fond of darkness , horror, terror and torture and the humor in all of them, yet they were great supporters of all kind of indecencies and terrorism. It was a fetish for the sadist of modern age.,

The modern age was equally primitive in hunting , living or dead, in their ways of burring people alive or digging their graves, dishonoring the dead and their remains, identifying, preserving them in the Museums of their Muses for inspirations, only.


No they couldn’t feed the hungry…
No they were not clothing the cloth less…
No they were not sheltering the homeless

Food , Clothes, Shelter…!!!

The questions were roaming like wanderers everywhere in the streets of modern age.

They wanted to help the victims of natural disaster , only to rule them and make them guilty, or in hope to
to use them for their own selfish purposes. They all were fake like their legends and movies acted by  and played by shameless celebrities hungry of riches and fame.

They were sparing their surplus pennies, time, tongues and pens to satisfy their own frustrations, knowing their efforts were not even helping them, nor they could change the fate of the planet they had occupied.

Their thoughts were space-bound with no oxygen and their intentions were decaying in their own graves, yet they were putting all the blames on other for self-relief.

They all were in competition with each other and their own selves in order to put robotic smiles on their faces,  defiling anyone who happen to come in their way and were ever-ready to be an accomplice when required!


When they approached the remains, and started their most wanted adventure, they all were extremely excited.

They could see a body, brutally  smothered by the beasts.

 It was hard to identify and distinguish the source of the cause and effect. It wasn’t clear whether the body was attacked by the humans or the beasts of the jungle, as each and every inch of the body was telling  a different story. Their were gentle bruises by the generous, some deep by the cruel , lusty and the revengeful. Yet…dishonoring caresses, licks , bites and cuts were without any marks of finger prints, of hands, paws and claws.  It was hard to tell anything without autopsy!

They looked at each other and passed smiles at the same time assuring themselves that at least they hadn’t done it

They all started collecting samples to satisfy their curiosities, as if they wanted to snatch away everything left behind in order to prolong their enjoyment, as they had never found such a vulnerable and helpless case in the history of their nations.


The only thing that was obvious  because of the strands of hair, was, that the body belonged to the delicate gender, who could be a daughter, a sister, a mother, a wife or a friend. But certainly was the culprit who might had invited all the corruption and the chaos, patiently and willingly, because of her straightforwardness, causing the main effect and the cause of  the creation of such world around her, just like the first woman.


The remains were  really ancient,  and according to the carbon dating , they should have been fossilized .
 While on the contrary, they were  miraculously preserved as everything was swelling raw and fresh.

The only proof of them being ancient was , there was not a single piece of cloth nearby to cover them. It was all eaten up by the hungry attackers, also, including some in  their so-called rescuing attempts.

The sight was equally  entertaining  for both genders of deep insight. Not a single one dared or wanted to cover  the chewed flesh and bones  either, as the remains wee not related to them. They all were by-standers smiling and laughing  as much as they could.

“She must have been really a brainless case, just like a puppet“ One suggested (wishing why couldn‘t he have one like her!).  All agreed ( wishing the same…in future..) started exploring the remnants of skull. Yes there was no brain, for the Brain that can never disintegrate  was  for the ‘shrewd’ and the ‘cunning‘, only…!

They all became very eager to find the Heart, that could serve as a ‘black box’ to provide more clues, they were wanting desperately to build their castles of lies for their survival in their darkened worlds…but there was no sign of heart either…for heart is all but TRUST…and it was gone forever!


Saturday, 15 October 2011

The Purpose

A young drop was too scared to jump down the cloud. It never wanted to leave its comfortable home, surrounding it like a comforter .It was very well-cushioned inside its dwelling, and wanted to remain happy and hearty inside it.

.The drop had many drops in the neighborhood as it was very fond of making friends…some younger some older …some very old….!

Well …the tiny drops were very innocent … and never bothered to think  about what was going around. All they wanted was…. to play all day …like small kids and sing sweet songs….without paying attention to the lyrics…

All older drops were in good health…but they were very lazy….All they wanted  was …to stay where they were..just like some middle-aged people watching TV with a bowl of popcorns in their laps.

Very old drops were very tired and somewhat stubborn to leave the chair they used to rock in…listening to old tunes harped by the old Radios of 1901.5 …like their old traditions…keeping.. hard-covered ….heavy books in hands. Just like their burdened …old souls…

Only sometimes when young drops used to get some free-time, those old drops used to tell them stories of bravery and courage of their ancestors. They wanted to encourage the young drops to try to find of purpose in their lives.

The grand-drop of the very young drop we are talking about  was known to be  the best  story-teller in town., but it could never reach the meanings of the morals of the stories, itself!

One day the grand-drop called the young drop who was very busy chatting with its friends. And told the story of a drop which was very scared of jumping down the  cloud it dwelled in, but as it never wanted to be turned into  a mist and be lost in the invisible pages of history, it gathered its courage and jumped down try its fate.

While the drop was falling down , an oyster opened itself up and trapped the drop inside it. After sometime the drop turned into a n exuberant pearl with the sheen of truth emitting from its body. The drop got preserved on the pages of history …forever…..

While young drop was lending its ears to the story of grand-drop, its heart  started glowing with the meanings of the story ..being absorbed…slowly…and gradually…

The young drop  met  some neighbors and friends and retold the story to them.

Although all the drops could not reach the meanings of the story very well…yet they all agreed to take a chance and try their fates too…in hope to make a difference…

They all gathered their courage and……..jumped!

While they were falling down…they  all started smiling in the state of euphoria….shouting…Eureka…Eureka….Eureka….!!!!!!!!!!!

They realized, in no time..that all that was needed…was ..’rain’……!     !    !  ! !…! !!!!!!! ….!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Monday, 10 October 2011

Remembering Jinnah

1890 ; A 14 years old boy sees a lawyer wearing a black gown in a court of law, and tells his father;” Baba, I’ll become a barrister”. He was Jinnah the founder of our nation, Pakistan, who was recommended ,to be sent to England for education, by Fredrick Croft, a British businessman and a family friend.

1894; Jinnah becomes a Barrister -at-Law at the age of 18, which stands a record to that day. His determination, so remarkable!

Young Jinnah strives and establishes his law practice, in his early twenties. His journey to his political height begins at his early thirties, when he is elected as a representative of the Legislative Council of the Viceroy.

Having joined the struggle for the Muslims of India, through joining the Muslim League, Jinnah becomes one of the most respectable people of India, before reaching forty.

Although deeply despaired Jinnah ,settles in Britain after the early demise of his beloved wife, yet, his attentions get more focused to Muslim independence, especially, when he realizes that Indian Muslims, are looking at him as a saviour ; his early fifties!

Leaving behind his blooming practice behind in Britain, Jinnah returns to India and establishes the Indian Muslim Federation. His sincerity breathes a new life into the Muslim League; his sixties!

His words: sounds logic” Even if we have to go through fire and blood, we must march on the freedom, otherwise, we ‘ll forever remain poor, weak, illiterate, and slaves of Hindus”.

With his convincing and winsome manners along the sincere advices and help of his companions, Indian 
Muslims regains their lost confidence.

1940; the true leader, ruling the hearts and minds of students, becomes “Quaid-e-Azam”, “the great leader“, for everyone. “The word failure is unknown to me”, he says.
Quide-e-Azam, Muhammad Ali Jinnah not only fights like a sword for his people but shields the vulnerable Indian Muslims against the anti-Muslim propaganda, by starting his English newspaper, DAWN. He gives up the presidency of the Muslim League, in favour of yearly elections, which eventually leads to a resounding victory of the League in the general elections.

Jinnah forgets his own self and become restless.
Why? “I’m awake, because my nation is sleeping” he responds to a journalist inquiring about his being awake at late hours.

Similarly, he answers to his worried sister who already believed that there is no word like “holiday” for the active mind of his beloved brother.,” Fatima! Have you ever heard of a general going on vacation, while his army is at war?”

Later in life, he justifies himself, like this,” I’m an old man and I have all the luxuries of life. Why am I toiling hard? It is for you, for the poor of the nation”,
He says at another occasion.( At a stage,he orders his fortune to be distributed to some educational institutes, though)

Jinnah’s determination remains un-beatable when he says” No power on earth can prevent (the creation of) Pakistan! “. His sincerity sensed and judged by the non-muslims , equally, as Gopal Gokhle stated; “ If India ever attains freedom, it will be because of Jinnah…

He succeeds in his struggle of sincerity and announces the great news of freedom to Indian Muslims with his magical words; “PAKISTAN ZINDABAAD!” (Long live Pakistan!) At his age reaching the seventh decade!

Jinnah accomplishes a mission, which Allah destined his life for, despite of some failed assassination attempts by his opponents ,before breathing his last at these words” I have completed my mission.” He leaves several important messages for the new-born country concerning every institution by his expertise.
Amongst them are;
“Pakistan not only means freedom and independence but the Muslim Ideology which has to be preserved,
“If we want to make this great State of Pakistan happy and prosperous we should wholly and solely concentrate on the well-being of the people, and especially of the masses and the poor….”
“ Democracy is in the blood of muslims…”“The prosperity and advancement of a nation depend upon its intelligentsia…”
“ Scholarship should come first and then the politics..” (to students)
“ Rise from the dust, so that our clothes remain usoiled and our hands clean clean for the greater tasks that fall to them..”
“Expect the best, Prepare for the worst.”
“No nation can rise to the height of glory unless your women are side by side with you…”
“You have to stand guard over the development and maintenance of Islamic democracy, Islamic social justice and the equality of manhood in your own native soil. With faith, discipline and selfless devotion to duty, there is nothing worthwhile that you cannot achieve.”

Jinnah’s personality was a true reflection of the Motto he established for the newborn nation called Pakistan, precisely,” Unity, Faith, and Discipline“.

He had the same majestic stance; he admired a horse for, who runs with his head held high and chest prominent! He won the race like an eminent horse -rider, with the true sportsmanship, w governing his horse 
with his will-power while relying on his “horse’s power”!

He has always been so assured of himself that he said” I first decide, what is “right” and I do it. People come around me and the opposition vanishes.” His deep-rooted insight always strengthened his mission, as he believed” Pakistan was established when the first Indian accepted Islam and the Hindus called him “the untouchable”.

In fact, Jinnah’s life gave meanings to what was in scripted on his early school” “ENTER TO LEARN, GO FORTH TO SERVE”.


Famous people, from around the world gave tributes to this great leader in such words. I quote only a few of them, here.

“The force of Jinnah’s convictions and his imitable style struck large audiences into wonder and agreement,” Hector Bolitho. He also said” To doubt Muhammad Ali Jinnah’s sincerity was to question the law of his life,”

Field marshal Sir Claude Auchinleck “M.A. Jinnah is such a smart man. How could he not make history? I admire his tremendous personality and his inexorable determination,”
“ Jinnah was faultless in both ethics and virtue” Said Sarojani Naidu

About his uncanny convictions Lord Mountbatten could not resist to say;”To the end of his life, he made no effort to court popularity or to please the press,..”

“Gandhi was an instrument of power, Jinnah was power,” stated the physician who incidentally had treated both leaders.

Gandhi himself stated;” The singlemindedness and persistent integrity ofMuhammad Ali Jinnah gave him the victory over all his adversaries,..”
Whenever I try to look into those bright eyes in his photo image, it reminds of his friends’ word .How truly Liaqat Ali Khan said ”Jinnah’s eyes were “the twin lamps of truth’. only the honest could look into him straight in the eyes,..”

There was a time, when every Pakistani used to idealize this great hero, but, today;
Do we remember our leader? Do we care to follow him?

Are we really taking care of this God-gifted land we achieved through Jinnah?

Jinnah “A neat, charismatic, well-mannered, Young man, a master of logic. The most intelligent man…” as Lord Montego Chelmsford called him, once.

Or,…” The most important man in Asia,..67, tall, thin, elegant, with a monocle on a grey silk cord and a stiff white collar,’ as Beverly Hill Nichols, described him in her interview titled” The Dialogue with a Giant”.

Or, a simple-at-heart and a straight-forward human being who insists” I have no desire for any position or title. You may simply call me Jinnah or Mr. Jinnah!”


My Motherland

My Mother Land is a country which means …the sacred, land….Pak ..istan.

It didn’t emerge as a piece of land on the face of globe, but as a Land Mark of individuality and integrity a nation should hold. It was not a business deal with the illegitimate owners of the time., but a struggle of freedom from all kind of spiritual, mental and physical slavery.

It was a thought that changed the fate of the hopeless. It was an inspiration that brought a revolution in suffocated atmosphere of the sub-continent.
No thought or inspiration can be compared with any other thought or inspiration…every single change that happens on the face of earth shows the handiwork of the Divine behind it. So the soul of the newborn land was originally very pure and other words...

The Founder of this land, Muhammad Ali Jinnah, was not the one who found it., but also the leader, the builder, the thinker and the soldier, who actually won this sacred piece of bread, through the truth of his spirit and motivations.

The birth of Pakistan is not based on the grounds of hatred. On the contrary, it was for love, self-esteem, originality and better future of the suppressed Muslims of India.

The history of the birth of my motherland marks upon the unique reasons and passions. Its foundation is laid upon many sacrifices and the migration event which was not less than any other migration event printed on the pages of history which hold the similar ground. ..i,e…a struggle against injustice, and prejudice!

This is pity that the pure spirit of the birth of this new land was brutally bruised by the hateful and the envious…even from the same brotherhood…who are still in the state of denial and ambiguity.

Similarly the country had suffered so much internal pains who have been damaging the roots of this God-Given Plant., since it has been planted…especially after the early demise of the gardener . The greed and selfishness of the rulers and care takers have made the country ..a failed state…still… dependent upon the so called world rulers. .

It is suffering from many external and internal threats apart from all kind of genuine problems .The question of shelter, food , cloth and education are still banging the sleeping consciences , actually, clinically dead under the blank sheet of unawareness and insensitivity.

The poor is getting poorer.., the rich…richer..and the ignorant more ignorant…the dead is dying and the vultures are feeding upon the deads.

Political and religious riots, have caused more damage than the calamities.

My heart is bleeding for what I see on TV everyday…and the my blood is on this page you’re reading…I can’t do anything else…against the hatred …the power mightier and darker…than..... a sacred reason and passion…called love! 


Thursday, 6 October 2011

A Promise

It was yesterday, when I thought of keeping a promise to my son, the youngest of my kids. He is my little buddy, so thoughtful and encouraging, who virtually pulled me out …to life ..after I had a near-death experience , sometimes ago.

It took years to sink down to the bottom , owing to everything destined in our lives, but just a few months to rise again, though not completely to the surface…only because his little hands pulled me out of my grave , desperately  waited to engulf me like a slime mold.

 While others gave up…he whispered…” You’ll live Mommy…!”

It came out from the bottom of his heart and my heart heard it….which had decided upon not listening to anything…but itself…palpitating, trembling, screaming…bleeding…so vigorously.  I could feel the life chocked inside my throat like a bolus which blocks all the peristaltic waves…

I felt as if the beating would escape the wires behind it and will jump out of the Electrocardiogram’s screen…dancing hysterically ..with P, Q, R, S nodes….acting like the crazy notes of disaccorded  orchestra

“How are you feeling now?” I heard the doctor calling my name.
“ like Nothing..” ..I managed to utter..
“like I’m dying…” I added calmly

I felt his hands touched my knees as I smiled in concern..and left the Emergancy room..


My  Son smiled at my unexpected decision , …a lot….as he always avoid to laugh aloud due to a natural grace  and divinity he holds with in his God-Given personality..( He resembles his father…not me..J

He always wanted to take me to a long long ‘bike-ride’, which I always had avoided because of my fear of ‘emergency’..

So we packed some snack …took our bikes…and…set out…

We crossed the greenery of the Don Valley, once full of lively waters of the Don River before it changed its direction…climbed down the heavy staircase of the bridge over-head and reached the bike track running along the Don River in its new direction.

The River was  shallow and some Salmons were visibly enjoying and basking  the early sunrays, under the surface of cloudy water…Morning fragrances was swirling around the trunks of trees, teasing them like the naughty butterflies whispering the wake-up calls…Small bushes were fencing the running water of the river like a group of shy, decorated girls of the Valleys of  Northern Pakistan, singing and dancing  merrily and gracefully….quite unaware of their natural beauty..

The River was quiet, but it was telling a thousand tales , sunken deep down the bottom…touching earth , beneath…yet invisible and vanished…like the ripples of unknown pebbles, resting silently like the gravestones of anonymous deads.

Along the River we saw a few young and older couples whispering in the trust of their privacy. We saw some solitary sleeping indifferently with their hats covering their eyes…unaware of what’s happening around them. (I just feared they might fall into the their slumber though…!) We  really envied the  ducks and birds enjoying their unique freedom of their worry-less lives.

The Track seemed never -ending…arousing the  innocent curiosity of my son to reach the end…

He was in pure mood to explore more ..his mode in the 7th. Gear of his heavenly drives….leading me far ahead of the realm of my true self…

“Follow me….” He sounded literarily
“I …I …Sir”…I replied…just like a blind disciple of a godly saint…

“We’ll stay side by side..otherwise..stay behind me..” (Aha) He finally ordered like a general who had lost his army and try to rule the ordinary…

“ Stay at the right side”…I tried to add something of mine under his leadership..
“ Mommy..You know I’m always ‘right’ “ He added pun to the conversation which was bumpy like the track we were traveling.
“And I’m always at left and …and Im always am wrong”: I confessed…and he smiled (a lot…again)


It was a perfect day and the perfect time …as the track was not crowded…as I always am scared of the crowd…yet we met many different people along the way. All were completely different as Canada is the truest example of diversity and diversity is believed to be Divine…

So precisely all were humans with their hearts ..beating normal and natural rhythms…per minutes…on the normal tracks …and they were enjoying a good Cardio-Work-Out…through their expeditions ..

Some smiled , some whitsled..some ignored…Some were slow, some fast…some alone …some with their family members…well a few with their kids too…

They all were very well-dressed and well equipped…while we both appeared quite  strangers to the ‘tracks’..with our casual out-look and …and lost sense of direction…

Had that been a night tracking…then we might had been following the North Star…to direct us to our promised land…but….it was a day…a bright day without any signs of the night …or…stars…anymore..

So we asked a fellow tracker to let us know where we were going..precisely…He stopped by…gave us a huge smile at first…and told us that we were heading towards a real end…lake Ontario….My son was amazed and the twinkles of his bright eyes were expecting me to listen to his silent wishes…..obviously to reach the end…

I refused firmly…as I regained myself ..and my leadership..virtually ‘kid-napped’ a kid.
.NO..we won’t will exhaust us and  will spoil all the fun…on its way…I said
Okay then well-reach at something very interesting and then we’ll have a back gear…he suggested..

We reached the Station of GO trains…We had never seen so many GO trains, going nowhere…at all..
While he was completely taken by the feel of  huge stationary objects ..I was pondering over the fact ..isn’t it all ..that this life is about….going.. no-where…absolutely…we are stuck….or we don’t want to go anywhere at all…

On the way back..we passed a woman strolling with her dog…My son was far ahead…than me as I was completely exhausted…We stopped by the bridge again we had to climb up again…to reach back with our heavy seemed too hectic at that time…with all the strength lost already…

We heard the woman saying..“I already knew this must be your son…as he was  so courteous as he passed  me and my dog“…A lovely compliment from a complete stranger boosted us and we managed to climb..about 60 stairs on a go….

….Finally we both ended up in the same green valley offering a spacious hug with all its heart ..

While my son was eating his snack …I lay down on the grass under the sky…without paying attention to any obnoxious gaze….sank my self in the lap of  Earth…caressing  motherly with the thousand green projections…underneath,…while the sky’s blue sheet …with floating clouds …covered my whole being…
It was so peaceful…I felt no thirst …no hunger…no pain….neither any joy…it was jus t perfect…to feel as if I was dead…or dying….
As the gray clouds were gathering more rain drops I felt the souls of the dear ones ..out there…calling me…to join them…I closed my eyes….I was being sucked up…by  the atmosphere…of eternal peace….of death…

While I was sinking…down and down….it started drizzling ….

“You will live…Mommy”..

I heard a whisper..from no where…

I opened my eyes…and assured the voice..

“ I will….”
“ I will…”
“ I promise….”


Dedicated to my son

As I See Him..

Everyday he sits outside his building around the area, in almost the same type of dressing. He wears T-shirts and shorts. The color of each changes every day ...but not of his mood....

Though he stays still to everyone, yet , to me it seems he is moving..! Moving over thousands of ocean of meaningless thoughts a hover-craft from many centuries ahead....

Ho do I know...?
His body language says it all....! It tells clearly that he is not at rest....

It becomes so obvious that he is not there where he seems to be...or he is not surrounded by the visible atmosphere around him...It defines he is surround by an invisible, alien community inside his he starts mumbling slowly and  louder...and that the whole neighborhood comes under the spell of his roar...

Not a single word can I catch...or understand.He speaks in really weird language. All I can follow is a rhythm of...

dum dum dum, dum dum, dum
dum dum dum, dum dum, dum

The last notes pitch very high...higher than the high-rise building he lives in...which stands in the middle as a giant cupboard. Suddenly many drawers of the cupboard slide out and people come out in their balconies to catch the glimps of the disturbing source . They watch him from their balconies and I see him from the window of my mind....

In evenings, he watches little kids playing in the compound, sitting quietly on balding patches of grass, with a drink bottle or a can. he opens his legs wide to support his protruding belly , an obvious mark of over-eating and laziness. he is completely bald and clean-shaven..of all the realities of bitter life...

His skin reflects an attractive tone of brown, and he has a mixed texture of white and black of all the rays of setting sun.Sometimes a similar blend is reflected in his thoughtful eyes..Overall , he looks quite handsome and totally harmless....even the kids don't fear him, nor do the  community policemen arrest him who ..come to take a duty-stroll there...

There's no penalty for becoming what you really seems less scary...somehow..except it starts gathering people attention...

So ...when he repeats the usual rhythm of dum dum dum....dum dum...dum....he becomes so carried away..that he starts an applaud that cost thousands of  points...

Then he just packs-up..and returns his home, before the sunset..ti rise agin next morning..

He seems just normal besides what I've described above. So people think he must be have a psycological problem, as he seems to be very restless and un-happy..

To me he is peaceful and very happy in his own I see him....!


Dedicated to a street person

The Street Car

She was waiting for the street car, along the road side, which had been so crowded all day long. She could hardly see anyone , then.It was a cold night of late summer and the cold wind was secretly blowing through the branches of the trees, scared of on setting fall season. She had always been scared of such weather when all witches and ghosts are set loose to celebrate….and every other night is felt like a Halloween night…

She slipped inside the glass cabin and started peeping through the fainted glass. From outside she looked as if she had been framed inside it. Suddenly she had that feeling inside her gut …of being framed since ever and …for ever…..

A long-waiting tear-drop left the corners of her deep blue eyes and seeped into the fresh bruises along her cheek side. She felt the pinch of pain and uttered a faint scream for the memories of the night which never seemed to pass…..

She dropped her light summer hat over her watery gaze....

The wind was wandering and searching for her weak spots...She felt tremor under her bruised skin…She was scarcely dressed up for the weather. Her light white silk blouse and short red skirt were already soaked in the light shower , that night had had earlier…

Her long black stockings were flimsy and torn. She was wearing high heels but her lean legs were staggering just like her restless arms, moving across the matching red handbag if she was attempting to open or close it…in confusion…

She was trying to recollect herself ..again…as usual….when her wandering thoughts got crushed under the roar of the heavy wheels of a street car. It was not her street car though, as it was going in the opposite direction. She wished the street car should turn back for her, but its direction and schedule were fixed just like its fate fixed inside the tracks on the roads….

"Wasn’t she herself …just like a Street Car…dressed just like it..painted just like it..a soul-less vehicle....wheeling on high heels ..going in the direction she didn’t want to go…? People standing in queues…boarding her…paying the fare ..and leaving her alone…going into their own directions….She serves them..and they ditching her….and calling her ..a bitch…who the hell they were if she was a bitch…..who had written her fate which she couldn’t change…The society…or she , herself…was writing it …for her....Was'nt she taken for-granted....Was she in debt....Did she own some self-respect..for her.."….The thoughts came like the pain of a cut by a murderous weapon….she started abusing aloud….in a moment she was shouting …screaming…and scratching her face…full of fresh bruises. Her matt red lipstick got spread like the blood stain all over her face…She was looking like a witch …set loose…at the Halloween Night…got entangled in the brooms of thousand branches..was she a human....was she alive.....where was she her soul... in her thoughts...or in her body......why was she living.....the questions were banging loud....

A few minutes after a street car arrived at her stop….and with her staggering legs and hopes,she boarded it. She was all alone......!

She sat at one of the front seats ,took out a small mirror from her handbag and started wiping out the stains from her face with an old tissue….while the driver was staring back at her from his mirror too….

No one said a word…..neither the mirrors….She was quite alright, after a while…She managed an entertaining smile …again!


Dedicated to women victims

When The Nature Was Adopted

When the ‘Nature’ was adopted by the two ‘Un-Natural ‘parents , she was only a child. A child who is always pure just like Nature itself. The Nature which is the Law given to every souls created in Heaven. Soul which is light and free of all burdens and the opacity of the darkness  called sin.
She was pretty like the innocence always is... Her spot-less skin was as clean as her soul. The inner light was brightening her  outer and encircling her head full of juvenile thoughts .Her curly blond hair was always caressed by the invisible winds of heaven. Her grey-blue eyes were clear like the sky of a bright day with   clouds  of angelic visions floating far and wide. Her heart was beating a rhythms of  truth and generating the pulses of sweet harmony. Her mouth had the holiness and  sweetness  of the simplicity.

She was a little angelic butterfly ready to take her wings out of the chrysalis of eternal beauty! Her little hands and feet enclosing the fluid of righteousness circulating inside ……

Although she was living in a society , with so-called modern standards accepted  in it, yet there was an atmosphere of unsure insecurity and doubts everywhere.

Their family was somewhat different from the rest of the families she happened to meet …but she could never figure it out until she reached her early teen….when the changes brought in her inner world changed the meanings of her outer world, altogether.

She was really uncomfortable. ..She felt as if she was really missing something…. ..A home…or something ‘homely’….

She remembered the mumbles and the giggles of her  fellows….all around…and was trying to understand the meanings of such noises….When she finally did…she suddenly felt that she was not there….she felt like  as if she was thousands of years old… ancient being……who was being preserved  and mummified with the false ointments of dual standards of the new world….but she was not alive…..anymore….

Upon realization…she never felt like going out with her parents …anymore…and one day she gathered her courage to ask just one question to her ‘Un-Natural’ parents…

“Why did you adopt me?”

The question bounced the ear-drums…the walls and the egos in a dark bed-room….then haunted it for ever…like echo!

The very question is still roaming around the  world , ever since, and has escaped its periphery….rotating in all the orbits of existences….

Humans have tried to change everything but they couldn’t change the Nature , yet. They have tried to make every physical law , submit before them..but couldn’t make the Law Of Nature submit yet…They have tried their very best to play Gods yet they couldn’t make the God OF The Universe submit to them…

The God who created the Laws of Nature and created Humans according to the Natural Law..and had started this beautiful world with a creation of a Man…… and his Wife…………!


Dedicated to the natural laws

Wednesday, 5 October 2011

All Quiet @....

This is a story about a war amongst many religions of the world  which used to quarrel with each other.. a lot..So much so ..that ‘Quarreling ‘became their habit and they all couldn’t live without it….

Once  when a religious war broke out, they all sent their Leaders and Scholars to fight for the sake of their religion…While all the Leaders and Scholars were fighting like true Soldiers, ‘ordinary’ people kept quiet…..Actually those ordinary people were never allowed to speak….because Leaders and Scholars always doubted the wisdom of ordinary followers. They always feared that ordinary people would definitely spoil the ‘Images’ of their religions which was like a ‘Taboo’ for them. They could never..ever let the utter a single word without an approval of the leaders and scholars of the respective religion.

So I was telling you about a story about  a war amongst the religions  which became a never-ending story….

All the ordinary followers of the religion were really annoyed and fed up..Their lives were so upset because of those religious wars that they sometimes thought they should have left the religion alone…. and should become Athiest ……as it was hard to act upon the teachings of religions which were becoming too complicated for them to follow ..ever their religions were taken-over by the Leaders and  the Scholars…That was the only reason that all  ordinary people preferred to remain indifferent..and let all the Leaders and Scholars fight with each other…for the sake of religions…which was non of their business to meddle with….

Ordinary people already knew that their Leaders and Scholars also keep fighting with each other , secretly and openly….and their had been a lot of blood-Shed because  of such Hatred…Actually they could never know how to love each other .in spite of their difference…But they were sure when these Leaders and Scholars  have to fight with a different religions , they all become ‘United’ for the sake of the ‘Victory’ of their religion…….

So I was telling you a story about a religious war that broke out..and it became a never-ending story…..

God was watching quietly  and was thinking hard…that… was it that all the religions were created for!…to bring destruction on His beloved Earth…or religions were suppose to bring ‘Peace on Earth‘…He already knew and had tried many different ways of  punishment and destruction  which had proven not to be so worth-while…

Finally,God decided to send all the ‘Founders’ of every and every  religion ..back to earth and  settle the disputes of  religions..

So all Founders of the religions met the Leaders and Scholars who were fighting for the respective religion and reminded them of their ‘Qriginal Messages’. Some Founders showed  a dislike on starting a new religion after their names and reserved their rights to remain ‘neutral’ in their opinions.

When all Founders were talking to the Leaders and Scholars, ordinary people were listening carefully and diligently.  All were looking at each other faces and smiling…to find about the’ Truth ‘of all ‘Teachings’ which was Same for all the Religions. They were telling them that the Teachings  were very ‘Simple’ to follow as those for  all ordinary people ..called ‘Humans……

.After sometime,,all the ordinary people joined together and began protesting against the war..with a slogan of ‘Humanity ‘ holding up the banners of “ Humility’ in their hands…

No sooner when God called all the Founders back in Heaven, ..than, all the Leaders and Scholars surrendered  quietly and peacefully……t

They all were ‘Quiet’ at the ‘Humanitarian Front“…………………..!

Dedicated to the Humanity

5:16 With it, GOD guides those who seek His approval. He guides them to the paths of peace, leads them out of darkness into the light by His leave, and guides them in a straight path.

"Child Find"

He spends hours and hours,
looking into the garbage.
His hungry stomach fills in ,with the odour of stinky waste,
over-powering his senses!
Every now and then, he wipes his running nose with the edge of his shabby sleeves!

His tired hands are trembling, now,
fumbling through the mess to pick up something useful!

He finds a piece of stale bread, but a more hungry, wandering dog snatches it!
His eyes are filling with tears! Soon, his dry mouth tastes another flavour!
The flavour of his tears....not a new feeling to his placid little face

Finally,he finds some stuff to fill up the open mouth of his dirty sack,
which he would empty at a junk store!

He will grow up with this never-ending routine...!

And one day,

he will be searching for something he never thought of,
.........his CHILDHOOD!

... over the pile of his wasted life!

...and will never find it! 


Dedicated the unprivileged kids of Pakistan

Mother Of A Rat

O my God…O my God …O my God....................!!!!!!

She was screaming….She was screaming loud…She was screaming louder…..

Her screams were so loud that all the sleeping gods on earth should have heard them and their sleep would have been broken…and those buried under it should have come to life…

It was the voice of her heart…
It was cry of her soul..
It was the ache of her body…

Her eyes were full of pain but not a single drop of tear could reach her lashes for tears had dried out, just like the milk desiccated inside her mammary glands…long ago….when she had had to decide to do something mother on this planet could even think of…


They were looking at her only son like greedy dogs wishing upon the only bone in their sight…


She couldn’t conceive , for many years after her marriage and it was regarded as a sign of being cursed , somehow, in the society of ignorant people who had forsaken the religion of the only God for ages…

Her in laws were, a few steps ahead of their age of incurable blindness…

So she was taken to a famous shrine which according to their belief was an enchanted shrine with a godly figure buried under the ground and was ‘alive’, controlling the happenings over it.

The dead body was regarded even more powerful than when it was alive…

People were believed to be granted the male children by the prayers of the undead, but the condition was…to donate their first born child to the shrine…


This world is full of un-explained miracles!

Who heard her prayers, which could not be heard on the praying carpet of her home and her heart…? She could never tell but yes……she became pregnant ……with a male child….

It was a healthy male child , when born ..full of vigor , when touched by the unbelieving fingers of his mother…how could she forget the burden of joy, she had carried for nine months of apprehension , inside her…Only the thought of it triggered the molecules of oxytosin and generated the streams of motherhood inside her bossom…but her heart became filled by the fear and doubts ..again…

Her body was a barren earth, became fertile again..and now….

Her newborn child was being snatched away .. No I wasn’t a miscarraige or an abortion … owing to natural or un-natural reasons was something absolutely incomprehensible ….and inhuman ..unearthly…ungodly….but no laws of the earth or one God could have come in its way..


Each and every inch of her body was questioning…but all whys dried out…like tears and milk…


The shrine people were servants of their god too. They were programmed to obey the orders…and the orders were more cruel than the worst punishments given to a human soul, mind and body….ever...

The baby’s head was supposed to be clutched inside a metal frame...... to stop……..all kind of physical...... mental ........and spiritual growths….all his life……!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

He was supposed to ‘beg’.... for the shrine... by turning into a ‘Rat’ of the god of the shrine….


She had known it….She had known it....she had....

How could she have carried this burden on her soul...mind and...body....

But she .....had....


An Ocean of years swept passed….


She was inside her kitchen, when her youngest daughter called her…she was scared of someone at the door begging for money and food...she had had someone's glimpes through a window…Both of her brothers were not home and the little girl was scared to answer the knock…

Her mother rushed out with some money and the left over food in her hand…

She opened the door…


O my God…O my God …O my God..

She was screaming….She was screaming loud…She was screaming louder…..

But no one heard her….

No it can’t be happening……the doors of her heart were banging loud….

Every time when such a beggar used to come at the door, she could always manage, to look for something at his wrist….

This time she recognized it…....' a mark '….still clearly visible at the wrist of the handicapped…..

He was her first-born her door.....and she was the ‘Mother’ of that ‘Rat’....


Dedicated to the victims of brutal traditions of Daula Sha's Rats in Pakistan

When War Was Over...

The war was almost over ..There was a mysterious wave of silence settling down from the clouds of smoke over head…the ground was haunted with the shadows of death bathed in rotten flesh and blood. The wicked weapons were breathing their lasts as their nozzles were oozing out the filth of gun powder and smoke..getting mixed up with the bruised face of muddy Earth beneath them…..The great uniforms ..symbolizing the prestige of martyrdom were ripped and torn like the honour of the country they fought for…The shoes were finally free of the heavy burdens of responsibility, having been marching inside them and leading them to their final abode of disaster…..All eyes in the sockets of hollowness were blind and all tongues in the cavity of dry mouths were quiet…forever…..!

All slogans of victory and defeat were rendered mute and meaningless ……
High above the opaque belt of fowl-smelling smoke was another battle going on….It was amongst the souls of all passed away soldiers who died for their countries .They all were protesting before God for rewards for their faithfulness and determinations blaming eachothers . They all were pleading for the ‘Title Of Martyrdom’ for their sincere efforts and sacrifices….!

They all were demanding..... Heaven!

God was so annoyed and confused about making a decision, like He would never had experienced such a turmoil, before. He never changed His laws for anyone and was really skeptical about taking any action which might be an action of ‘Justice’ for both parties…..Should He be creating a separate Heaven for either of the parties or should He divide His ‘Only Heaven’ for the sake of Justice. …

While God was fighting back His state of confusion…a very large group of souls arrived…The crowd was full of souls of infants , toddlers, teens, youngsters, women and elderly…They wanted to ask just one question to God but God was paying no attention to them because of His business in an important state affair... which was taking all His precious time and energy…
All angels were watching the mob keeping their mouths.. shut! They all knew it was none of their business to meddle with.They could never forget what happened to their boss angel, ‘Iblis‘, long time ago, when God created the first man and He insisted all the angels to prostrate before His ‘Masterpiece-The Man‘….Iblis refused and in his punishment was expelled forever having been titled as ‘Satan-The-Rebellious’ . They often used to become very puzzled .though, whenever they had tried to find the reason of……..What was Iblis’s fault..!!!! Was it because he refused to prostrate before any one else beside God …or he just called the most dear creation of God, ‘Man-The -Transgressor’……..‘a bad word’ …indeed!!!!!!!!!

Meanwhile, a women’s soul who died young with her unborn child in her womb…stepped forward .God over-looked at first but then due to His never-changing Merciful nature took mercy and allowed her to come near…The woman became so scared that she felt a wave of tremor passing through her whole being…..

Then very carefully she opened her shiny mouth and uttered: O Lord of Heavens, I represent the whole mob standing behind me. We all expect mercy from you.”
“What mercy you seek, O woman” God asked softly
“My Lord we all are victims of the war these soldiers fought ..we want to ask you.....whatwas our fault…what was the fault of the all unborn souls…who could n‘t take their first breath …in the freshness of your Earth you created for all of us as a ‘Home‘….what would you decide for us now…..we have been watching and waiting for so long…!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

God could not reply..

God is still thinking..while all the angels are watching faces of one another!

(When the 'War' was over.....there was ....'Peace'....all around the place! ....'however'.....'.they say'........!)


My Statue

Long ago, the people of faraway land invaded our small island. They were very different. We never liked them at all. See!……the way they looked…….the way they walked…the way they talked….every thing was so different from the way we used to know and do….They brought many different things with them.They brought weapons too….the weapons,....we never saw before…and…..they all knew very well how to use them…..Those weapons were very deadly…I can never forget how quickly my uncle died when a fire ball came out from the long nose of one of their weapons facing him…

I was only a little girl ……see…….that day I hid my self in a quiet corner of our cottage ..for the whole day…… and ..a whole night…..I took my rag doll with me……but It looked scared too…I couldn’t see her eyes in dark....but I felt she was crying too…

Then the next day I saw some of those different people in my town……they were talking to my father…who seemed to ignore them at first ..then I found him nodding his head frequently…in…. ‘yes‘…and ……‘no‘..most of the time…!!!!!

After some time I saw those different people , almost everywhere around the area…
I was growing with the struggle to accept different people and their differences..but it was not easy …can you understand what I mean…..?

I used to observe them from behind a big heap of rocks, my father told me was a sacred icon….

One day I saw some different people bringing a big statue in their side of land.They fixed it along the seaside….
I liked it very much....I liked the way …the statue was dressed , all wrapped in …..,It was carrying a torch …which was very interesting….in one hand…… and.... a book the other…….…‘book‘…I never saw one before….but I remember it was the best part I liked about the statue….and what else….oh..the statue was crowned with a very strange kind of hat…and…I felt that under the weight of the heavy hat…. it’s face..looked stern…… I never liked he way it was staring…..though!

With time, I found. every single part of the statue ‘meant ‘something that was actually brought to our little Island along with it…a culture, prestige, education, strength,…..leadership…hope and ..liberty of-course….!

With time, as I grew up..I could really see the difference..those different people made….as I started understanding the meaning of culture, prestige, education…and leadership…..etc!

Now I want to tell you a secret today…‘I used to talk to the statue …a lot!’…shhhh….and all the meanings I understood was just because of it….don’t tell my secrets to anyone else….(or else!!!!!…)
I’m getting old now….sometimes I feel the statue is growing old too…..or may be it’s just the delusion of my withering mind……that…sometimes I see…. as if the torch in the hand of the statue is falling down…sometimes….it seems as if someone is snatching the favourite…. from statue’s other hand….and sometimes…the crown……no….and the worst of all….……I really don't want to mention it......I feel as if someone is trying to pull away..that nicely wrapped gown…from the body of the statue….
I told you…didn’t I….I’m getting old …I’ve started assuming a..lot…I often become so scared…just I like used to become…when I was a little girl…..especially with the thought …” what would happen if the whole statue….!!!!… …no…I’ll never…let this happen in my life…as all my hopes were connected with it and are growing.... with it….
My language is much improved.. in these years…see…I have learnt a lots of words of this different language…..I’ve learnt many ways to communicate…but still I feel very different from the rest of people…you know why…may be because I still don’t know how to tell a lie, safely….haha…I am so used to speak the truth since my childhood…a bad habit…hmmm…..may be it’s my fault..and no one else’s……..definitely..!

Well ! I have tried to improve my self …a lot…believe me…I mean get along with what is happening….and….I ‘ve tried my best to understand every single thing ….. like understanding the meanings of every single word linked to my favourite statue……like…culture, prestige, education…and leadership….hope.....etc…I told you…remember!!!! 

Only one words confuses me a lot…and the more I think about it, the more confused I become,,,,and that word isssss..... …’Liberty‘..

You know what… I have this feeling ….somewhere inside me..that perhaps…I’ve mis-understood it……..somehow…I guess!!!!!!!

May be I’ll be able see what It really means…in near future…I still hope….if live longer.....
Then what?…… I 'm going to tell you another secret…….....Once I’ll understand the meanings of liberty…I will start calling my favourite statue ..“The Statue Of Liberty”…for sure!

The Scarecrow

It was standing in the middle of a small crop field ….on its own…Since one knew. It seemed it was there ever since….and would remain there…for ever..! Who put it there? No one knew exactly .The family which owned it…. found it there before they actually took notice  of it.

It was antique and ancestral ..perhaps. The farmer never tried to explore its ancestry either . He was only concerned with its presence there. It might had had some remnants and clues of the ages it had been through,…..still stuck beneath its fragile body made of old cotton, rotten straw and some left-over ego… yet its outlook kept changing like fashion, with time and circumstances.

Especially theweird looking hat….. , bruised like the skin of a soldier ,had many holes for sunshine and rain to pour in its straw-stuffed head which would yeild some repelling, weird smell spilling out the holes, all the 
times. It was not able to think, had never been.Even though how hard had it been trying to scare them away , yet the spirits of thought always kept haunting its hat.....not brain…just like the down feathers of different birds  trying to build in the nests under its hat….It was actually meant to scare-away the birds too…wasn't it.....including crows..of-course…What was its name again…oh yah..'Scarecrow'…So who gave this weird name to it….no one remembered...... either!

Farmer’s wife was kind enough to dress it up in best clothes to give it a genuine look, yet it never looked enough ‘scary’ to  serve the purpose. Then one day she decided to wrap it with an old worn-out  crochet shawl of her deceased mother and stitched in some bizarre shapes along with it, to add some flare to its misery.. Their kids never liked the Scarecrow as it always looked sad and tired with the burden of its endless duty  and had never played with them. The kids however always became interested in touching everything bizarre, attached to it.....

The Scarecrow was absolutely blind, dumb and deaf, but it could feel the ‘touch’ and could tell the difference of ‘kind’ and ‘unkind’ .….like …dislike …(it liked the Crochet Shawl very much)...........and..... especially the anger!

 It could surely tell the difference between the cold and warm breeze …the drizzle and the shower…..It could smell the fragrances of the day and night….though could never see, touch  or hear them….

One night,  it was dark and stormy and the farmer family was confined to  their home. The scarecrow was standing alone in their field trying to think... again. No it was never scared of the nights or of being alone, at the fear had never touched it. While it was pushing itself hard….a thrust of  strong wind  pushed it  down on the ground. It fell on its face as if it was trying to prostrate.... before nothing. The soil underneath it filled up its mouth and for the first time it tasted the truth of its being through it. The truth opened its mind and it started thinking automatically. That night it slept with its eyes closed and dreamed about the beautiful days to come…

When the day broke, and the farmer pulled its muddy self up the ground , it was still sleeping…It managed to stand still again with the help of its new ego ..while it was shaking from inside.....

It didn't want to open its eyes….but when it did, it could feel a flash of light being flooded into its , trembling ,husky  lids. It could see the world!

When the birds came near , it could hear their gossip against it  and the family of the farmer. It enjoyed it a lot!

No one knew, how happy was the Scarecrow since then.

Ever since,sometimes, the Scarecrow talks to  the nature and its own self, but never tells its secret to anyone else.
The  Scarecrow never tells anyone that at nights.... it too..... get  scared......sometimes…………………


The Manikin

Christine was only a teenager, so angelic and pious in her nature that 'she' should have been spelled, Christeen , instead of Christine. She had the spirit of untouched skies and a heart of gold , but her heart got broken , even before it had learnt to beat... The beating was soundless, and so was the breaking….

It happened because of a heartless, who happened to be mindless and thoughtless …at the sametime...

Christine had her little goals, which were quite immature at that time, just like herself. She just have been sorting them, while her own self was being sorted, by the ruthless hands of time.

The stage was the most important stage in life of every human child and it was like a test of crossing a bridge of fire without getting burnt…

She had been warned and helped by everyone around, concerning her to protect her within the range of every aspect of possibilities …but …her vulnerable heart was totally defenseless,... as always…

It was the time of following the trends and fashion, which are always directionless and senseless at the same time…as they drive people crazy beyond their capacities and insist them to be engaged in reward less games and activities.


She was born and living in the world, where physical, mental and spiritual age is counted and celbrated in… valueless…numbers…which are nothing but a scribbling, by the hand of an expert but a mindless mathematicians of all ages. It was pity that the tiny teen burnt up all the candles of hope , dreams and wishes, pegged over the cake of her fifteenth birthday cake …which got melted like a winterless snow, in scorching heat of bitter realities. The beautiful icing of the cake , became covered with lifeless scum of the melted wax, leaving no space to breath…

Christine became breathless for the toll taken by her fragile being surrounded by the colorless dark-hole, engulfing all the divinity inside her!

In her hurry she totally lost herself and became a withered flower before blooming. She lost her inner and outer sight ,and light…. She never thought of becoming a fashion designer..again.

How fond has she been of exploring the shopping malls with people she called friends, but within no time she only preferred window shopping, which was just a priceless and harmless activity .


One day her despair lead her into a thrift shop, where a heap of used items was on sale, tagged with highly reduced price to make the item approachable to everyone, who look for the cost of everything they want to possess.

She felt as if she was one of them……….with no self-respect left inside the hollowness of her existence…

On the rack of miscellaneous items, something caught her attention….

It was a Manikin, made up of solid wood, though the gleam of varnish over it had faded, just like the outer layers of sedimentary rocks eroded by the clever winds of passed ages….but still it looked quite attractive…waiting be picked up…

She picked it , paid for it and went home.


She put it on the night-table beside her and started looking at her….she felt as if it was looking at her too…she started talking to it and it seemed it was listening too…..

Tears welled a spring of mixed feelings , fighting with eachother, inside her heart....As a teardrop , concealing all the mysteries of her broken self reached her eye lashes ,the magical tiny fingerless hand of the Manikin reached out and picked the drop. Its mouth less face blew it with all its invisible strength. The drop boarded the air and traveled passed all the vacuums …to reach the heavens…and became a shining star of selfless hopes , dreams and wishes…

She became friends with Manikin.

She took out her old sketch book and started sketching it . The Manikin became the model for her fashion pursuits to follow. It was all the way, very intelligent and funny as it posed for make her smile...

Manikin shared all the blueness of her being and she started smiling again. She started feeling safe and secured again ,in the company of the selfless friend around her…dropped from the heavens…out of the blue….

The fire of pain , changed her heart of gold into an even precious form as she gained herself …back…her heart started gleaming again...with orange-gold gleam...

.The apparantly ,heartless, mindless wooden doll , the Manikin, was so manly and humanly, that it touched her every way she had ever longed for…as…. it was the one who never touched her …leftover…ego …again….

She paid so little for him, but the Manikin was really priceless.....


To all the suffering Teens of the Western world…

The Wind Of East

The warm Wind of East …traveling…. with the flow of thousands springs of un-touched waters, being poured down from the once snow-capped mountains of dormant dreams ……where the sun rises wearing the crown of golden rays of wise glory…shining upon the bent blades of growing grass….humbled by the dew drops of tears fallen from the eyes of unknown heavens……

The Wind of East carrying... the heaviness of bitter pains….separating her from the past of its grace and glory….long lost in the paleness of crumbled pages of the history of silent sufferings….

Descending down …in the valley of sky-aiming minarets of Mosques and Mahals…touching their elegance….. with the corners of her torn veil ……surrounding her like a coffin…..

She sneaks into the red zone of forbidden passions and hears the cry of suffering innocence…..She wipes the tears of starving childhood and kisses its forehead deluded with the clouds of unsure future ….She touches the fateless palms and summons her tears…useless , and un-worthy like rusted coins…..She unties the knots of superstitions wrapped around the branches of religious paradox.. standing like the pyramids of lost culture in the desert of ignorance…She senses the heart beats of her own people bathing in the privacy of worldly desires ….and she can't think anymore...she can’t breath in the atmosphere without the oxygen of awareness and understanding….

Deeply despaired…she travel passes the thousand seas of apprehension and reaches the other side of the world…The West…

The Wind of West greets her with a grin and a cold hand-shake…that fills her eyes with fear and gives her a shiver down her spine….but hand in hand… the Wind of East, and the Wind of West …keep exploring the world again…

She keeps her vision higher than the egos of tall walls …and doesn’t want her fragile self be bruised by them…but the suffocation in the trapped atmosphere…makes her expand her views…She reaches the beaches but the shame of her own existence pulls her vulnerable and naked-self back inside the core of passive dormancy…

Her blurred eyes see the pollution of skies…pierced all through their bodies with the loops of poisonous smoke…..burning many homes secretly ..with their secret ignitions…
She touches the helplessness of the innocent childhood being strolled by the ghostly parenthood. She hears the cries of motherhood pleading under the enchanted tree of fake civilization . She tastes the staleness of chocolate and vanilla in the mouths of solitary youth. She feels the emptiness inside the hollow bones of the abandoned elderly…

She sees the rule of technical and mechanical intelligence, quarreling with the divine wisdom…..She witnesses the murder of simple human ties…with the meaningless worldplay…and the charm of simplicity bewitched by the glamour of fake models and ideals..with all the originality masked... or...tatooed ....

She watches the mortality of struggle , recycled between the invisible hills of ….Need and Greed ….located
in the dark cities of empty rituals. She feels the pain of the strive of the Needy newborn left alone in the desolation of despair… in hope of a miracles…. that opens the bossom of earth… with the everflowing spring of holy zum zum…

So...... she sees the other side of the ‘Sickle‘…..The WORLD…with countless , sharp teeth…as her mother whispered once into her keen and listening ears……

Everything makes her weary self more miserable…!

She sits alone …watching the dimming rays of setting Sun… West…She longs...and prays... for going ....BACK....... HOME…. hope to see the Sun Rising …again….(before her disintegration...)

for her dream was search ….for…PEACE ….only....!


Dedicated to East

Life Was So Lovely!

Life was so lively , she almost danced on the melody of truth surrounding her. Her earthly body shined under the radiance of golden sun rays like a heavenly realm. Her long hair were falling down like the cascade of pure water with each droplet shining with the clarity of faith. Her dress was simple and elegant , stitched with the sensitivity of a somber soul. Her feet were bare, to keep her in touch with surety of her existence. Her beautiful face was glowing with the confidence of nature and her wide eyes were glimmering with the hopes and dreams. Her head was held high with her self-esteem ,with a slight bend of humility in her slender neck. Her hands were full of flowers of ‘Present ‘carrying the seeds of ‘Tomorrow’.

She was so cheerful and contented that merry tunes never left her delicate lips coated with the sweetness of speech.

She used to live in a small cottage made of wood and straw and used to eat very simple food. Every time she had to go far ,she used to mark her route back to her dwelling.

One day she lost her way back to her home and was found by a 'Devil' disguised like a princely figure as he appeared from behind a tree. He offered to help her find her home again. Life was such a simpleton and naive, she trusted him blindly…for the sake of her ‘home’!

Devil was no one else but a wolf in sheep clothing. He kept deluding her mind with his false stories and fascinations. Life was only but a malleable being. She had never experienced persuasions and seductions before. She got trapped in the glittering net which was not gold.

Devil was an apt conjurer. Through his evil power he succeeded in tempting poor Life to the world of falsehood.

Life was gone astray!

She braided her hair with the jewels and all the droplets of water dried out. She dressed herself into the most expensive and attractive clothing she could have.

She started wearing shoes too!

Her head became higher and her neck stiffer. She started carrying metal coins in her hand instead of flowers!

After some time she forgot about reaching old home ,at all, and preferred to remain lost in the world of delusion of 'high-rise' monument.

The fragrance of her dreams faded away and her head became polluted with smoke. The freshness of her hair was gone forever and they looked dusty and gray. Her eyes looked stony and hopeless and her skin became pale. She remained fearful and hardly smiled.

Life became so obsessed with her ‘life-style’ that she forgot caring about her ‘home‘.

Life is still living with the ' Devil', the illusionist!


Life.... is Faithless….!

Life Homeless.......!!


'Life'...... is so 'Lifeless'……!!! 


Dedicated to Mother Nature

Muhammad Was A Message OF Mercy

It was pitch dark inside the cave. He could hardly see anything around him, but he was not scared of dark. He had been coming there quite often to meditate in solitude. Meditation that brings light inside the darkness of souls. A soul which always is in a constant search of one true God.
He had already lived forty years in that land.
His land called Mecca was situated in a small Peninsula , Arabia, swarming with Gods of wood and stone and their followers with loaded egos. Every year people from all around the place were also invited to bring more Gods to add to the charm of kabah , the Cube, once erected by a foreigner to the land of Arabia, named Abrahim, on command of his Only God, he submitted to. It was the very place where his wife Hajr and baby Ismail were tested for their trust in God.
The sky of Mecca once glew with sacrifices of the early inhabitants. The land preserved the traces of struggle of Hajr between the hills of Safa and Marva. The land retained the memories of tears of baby Ismail in form of an ever-flowing spring called Zam-Zam.
Then the Rivers of years flew past and sky of Mecca became clouded with the dust of by-gones, and their memories got buried under the dryness of the desert.
Passing time multiplied the kinds of Gods and the ways of worship. The ignorance took away all wisdom from the deluded minds sophisticatedly wrapped in the highly evolved linguistic standards.
The Jealousy and Hatred sprouted form the false faith made them worst kind of enemies ,on the face of the Earth. All they knew was to kill each other on account of minor differences and disputes. They were wilder than the animals, and had never known or cared about any human trainer in their history.
They were ready to cut the chains of all relationships for revenge and retributions in their competitions, a well-established ‘chain-reaction’. They never knew what forgiveness and mercy meant.
They mastered their skills as warriors while being sunken into the depth of inhumanity. They held their collars high up while buryng their new-born daughters alive., regarded as a symbol of disgrace. They molested the honour of surviving females like the male beasts, in any presumable manner.
They used to drink extensively and gamble a lot. Either they loved to get dressed in expensive clothes or go naked in public or while worshipping around the Kabah.
Last but not the least they were very prejudiced about their shameful traditions.
He had been amongst them for forty years., yet how different was he…His humanity and humility was the boon of his orphan hood. His shame and modesty was the boon of him being the only child. His innocence and straightness was the boon that he never had any formal education in his life. His honesty and truth was the boon of Abrahimic blood running in his body. His dignity and morality was the boon of being belonging to a respectable Chieftain of Mecca. But his reclination from the flase Gods and his inclinition towards One God was the boon of God Almighty ,Himself!
The year he was born was a year of an extraordinary happening, when a neighboring ruler attempted to demolish the single surviving symbol of Abrahimic faith , the kabah -the house of One God-the house of World Peace,.All the elephant riders -the sent attackers, were attacked by the flocks of small birds with small pebbles in their beaks and were killed, mysteriously.
They all celebrated it, yet couldn’t understand the Sign of God , hidden in the event.
The blinded Arabs lacked the insight to reach the meanings of anything inspite of their high standard of in-formal literacy which was poetry , basically. They used to be very busy in their daily fun, feasts and fights., of-course. They could never recognize a meek , quiet and shy child, or a honest and truthful youngman, who married a woman much older than him as a revolutionist.
He was not anything like them.A man whose priority was to serve the mankind, his kins, neighbors and strangers., poor and the helpless.A man in his middle age, later, whose interest was to sit in solitude and pray!
So it was pitch dark inside the cave when he saw a ray of bright light, turned into an angel. The Angel spoke in his language.
The Angel told him.
“I can’t read”. He replied
“ Read in the name of your Lord Who created.”
“He created man from a clot.”
“Read and your Lord is Most Honorable,”
“Who taught (to write) with the pen”
“Taught man what he knew not.”
Then he recited everything he was told, trembling and sweating.
He could never believe what he was told…..He was a Messenger of God.
When he reached home, his wife wrapped him I a blanket and assured him that nothing had gone wrong. Why should he be scared, when he had never done anything wrong. God who had chosen him would never leave him alone.
People who already ‘Knew’ him, believed in him and embraced his message, immediately. However they all paid a huge price of accepting the truth of one God and rejecting the whole population of false gods. They were tortured and humiliated. The history recorded the worst kind of inhumanity on Earth, during those days because of those habitual cruel.
The Chieftain was approached to stop him from spreading his message. They offered him high position, wealth and women, but he replied, that he would not retract , even if the sun and moon would be placed in his hands.
His patience and perseverance became a unique example of the history.
One night when his enemies finally planned to kill him , he was commanded by the God to migrate to Medina (Yasrub), where he and his followers set up a unique example of true brotherhood.
His enemies could never let him get away with what they considered rebelliousness, from Gods. As their Gods became small in stature before One God and became ‘gods‘.
They planned a secret attack on all of them. God commanded him to fight in defence, in the name of God and his religion and for the sake of early followers , a token of the revival of Abrahimic faith.
They fought and the angel fought with them. The enemies were defeated.
Preceding battles were fought on defensive accounts because of stubborn Arabs, who were trying there best to eradicated the new faith offending the religions of their for-fathers.
All they knew was to ‘fight’ for right or wrong.
Still the total number of the casualities remained around a thousand. Captives of the wars were treated kindly and were freed.
Later they signed a Peace Treaty but Arab enemies were habitual transgressors.They always violated.
They kept on harassing early followers and kept trying to block their way back home, until God commanded him to migrate back to Mecca, their home.
About ten thousand of them marched back to Mecca, praising to One God, only. Not a single drop of blood was shed and the Mecca was conquered once for all. All Meccans were pardoned, immediately.
Finally he gave his final address at the time of Pilgrimage and reminded his followers about the accomplishment of the task given to him by the God .and gave them the news of his departure in near future.
That was the day he reminded them that the Truth has been distinguished from Falshood,forever and for everyone who cares.
The essensce of his address was …There’s no compulsion in accepting it. Everyone is free and no-one is under the rule of any other human.They have right s and duties, only, towards each other. No one is superior to anyone on account of gender, color, race God’s eyes but the one who’s best in conduct.
He breathed his last sometime, after ,but the Truth he brought to the world can never die…..!
That man was Muhammad .
He was not a killer.
He was the Mercy to the Mankind.


Dedicted to: Muhammad (S)
21:107 And WE have not sent thee but as a mercy for all peoples.