Aaj fir kisi ke jane ki khabar aayi

آج فر کسی كے جانے کی خبر آئی

 دِل کی دُنیا میں فر اداسی چھائی

رو رہے تھے جب ہم غیروں کو

کسی اپنے كے جانے کی تب خبر آئی

موت ہے یقینا یہ جانتا ہو میں بھی

یوں تیرے اک دم جانے کی بے یقینی ہے

وہ ملنا تجھ سے یوں آخری ہو گا

وہ مسکرا کر دیکھنا بھی

وہ آگے بڑھ کر دعاؤں دینا

وہ بے لوث کی محبت 

بس یادوں میں سب کی یوں

قید ہو جاؤگے سوچا نا تھا

English Transliteration, if you  can’t read  Urdu.

Aaj fir kisi ke jane ki khabar aayi

dil ki duniya mein fir udaasi chaayi

Ro rahe they jab hum  ghairon ko

Kisi apne ke jane ki tab khabar ayi.

Maut hai yaqeenan ye  janta hu mai bhi

Yun tere ek dum jane ki be yaqeeni hai.

Wo milna tujhse yun aakhri hoga

Wo muskurakar dekhna bhi

Wo aage badhkar duaaen dena

Wo belaus ki mohabbat !

Bas Yaadon mein  sabki yun

 kaid ho jaoge  Socha na tha.

Seems like the death has declared a war on us, and the first ones to go are the good people. I see people dying in war,hunger and then we have these sudden deaths happening around shaking us to the roots and souls. Recently I lost an uncle of mine, my mother’s cousin and the whole family is still in complete shock  , he suffered a massive silent heart attack and died in his sleep. He was not ill or suffering from any other health problem nor was he that old , basically there is no defined logic for death  when and why  it will choose you ! so nothing rules the logic except the Divine Decree that is what we believe in as muslims, when there is the time to go ,  you go. Everyone around you adapts to not having you around anymore and try hard to cling on to their memories to keep you there forever.

He was a great soul, a completely social human being, loving everyone around him , especially the kids of family, no matter which chain of hierarchy you fall in , He will connect with you and bond you instantly. His voice, his mannerism , his sense of humor , all created  his charisma which we  will miss  forever now. A progressive muslim who was always encouraging the girls of the family to study further and be independent. In fact he used to come back to keep a check  and even remind you “Never  forget your goal in life, life is short  , time is running and success is far” .  One of the lines from his last message he sent  to me in September.

May Allah accept our prayers and grant him in Jannah and give peace to his soul.

I wish Mamu I could have said this when you were alive, Never thought you would leave us so soon. You left us with a feeling of regret  we couldn’t tell you how important you were for us and how much we loved you.

 

 

I see the depart of great souls

 

I see the depart of great souls

From this world, one after the other.

people bereft , confused and sad

each one more than another.

 Without leaders, without their guides.

Without beckons for the path to abide.

The intelligentsia getting replaced by fools

The just and kind, by the cruel and blinds.

The darkness is following,

 The Candles blowing off quickly.

The sadness is following,

The happiness blowing off quickly.

Behold O dear heart, Beat slowly!

Hold on to the faith and walk steadfastly.

Hold on to the prayer and pray generously.

Hold on to this journey to pass it with ease.

( This poem is dedicated to all the great souls I have seen  leaving us in last few months, especially  the news from yesterday of Maulana Junaid Jamshed’s death has left me sad, May Allah grant him Jannah and his soul rest in Peace . Aameen ) 

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What if this existence is not real?

Often a thought

passes my mind

What if this existence

is not real?

This body, this breath

and touch  is nothing

but what I see in a dream.

And I will wake up

Somewhere as oblivious

as I am now of

where  I am sleeping.

A rich man waking up poor

And the poor will be rich.

Some will thank for

The dream is over

While others will cry

for their dream is wasted

in chasing a mirage.

Inspired by Rumi’s Masnawi , was reading his famous quote  while this poem happened in my mind .

This place is a dream. Only a sleeper considers it real. Then death comes like dawn, and you wake up laughing at what you thought was your grief.

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O Dear Ramadan

I was thinking you  were just here

 and I was told it was last year,

 you will be  here soon .

 worried  I was , how  would I fast

With my ailments year past.

And then you arrived with a smile

The first day I struggled hard

I felt weak, sluggish  and tired.

And  with each passing day

I started  to feel more healed.

to my surprise this body survived

long hours without food  and water.

my soul   fed , nourished  and better.

thoughts  clearer ,  with  a smile on my face

I could work normal and sometimes aced.

A better person I strived to be

and  a better Muslim   all these days.

 when I  now felt completely 

absorbed  ,Only to know 

you are to be leaving soon!

I wish when you arrive next year

O my Dearest Ramadan I hope

You will find me the way

you are leaving me today .

 Insha Allah.

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#WQWWC – Writers Quote Wednesday Writing Challenge – “Inspiration”

“A writer is one who is constantly looking for his inspiration in everything he feels and come across”   (My Hijab Diaries)

The colors of the sunset sky

 Becomes my inspiration

And sometimes it is the sea.

While walking down

those landscapes

Seeing but not seeing

 Opens up my inner eye!

These songs of birds too

Comfort my aching soul

 Sometimes.

Sometimes talking to people

Sometimes talking to myself

I find my inspiration to write!

And both of them can’t

Help sometimes either.

Difficult it is as it is easy

For a writer to find an inspiration.

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(Taken at Kinderdijk Windmills Netherlands 5/5/16)

(Ping Back -> https://silverthreading.com/2016/06/01/wqwwc-writers-quote-wednesday-writing-challenge-inspiration/ )

Reflections of Pain

Pain in the heart 

sits  heavy on chest

Making it difficult,

To take my breath.

The mind gets helpless,

my feelings reason less

stuck in a woe,

 I silently wonder

How much of myself

 I still don’t know.

with time gone by ,

hands enough burnt

and  lessons learnt ,

to adjust my sail.

I  no longer wail

 when it pains.

They say  ,

all which arrives us

is from beyond.

 So is this pain.

A gift ,a cleanser

 to clean my soul.

Like a child,

 I sit and watch ,

like a mother she

 Washes and cleans,

Also rants how dirty

Have I made it again?

It hurts when she rubs

rough and  tightly scrubs.

but when she is gone

i can feel my soul

 like a newly born

smiling and  shining .

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( This picture is from last summers from a park in Brussels, the reflections in water represents more our inner state, like a clear water reflects better so does our souls and the two swans represents  inner and outer self  )

Survivor

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The winds were  strong ,

sky covered with clouds.

Heavy rain ripped apart

thick blanket of  leaves,

were once  my  shield.

Thunders  shrieked loud

so close to my  face ,

My eyes tight shut

and heart beated fast.

With  wings all drenched

I felt heavy and tired.

All night I   tried hard

to keep clinging on

those rustic branches .

All I could recall

it was an angry storm

which blew away

my nest that day!

(life is a ride of  ups and downs , Gaining and losing. Every difficulty in life teaches us something, we might have lost a lot on the way but we have survived and every survivor has a story , a story to tell  and motivate others. These small birds in the picture above inspired me to write this  poem, they  were swinging happily on the branches yesterday in front of my  window though the picture looks sad , captured on camera  right on time by my husband  ) 

The soul is quiet today

The soul is quiet today and the heart is heavy

A bit  sad ,a bit tired or perhaps both.

My heart’s eye blinks a silent tear,

 Its heaviness weighs me down.

Restlessness has engulfed

my heart from  every corner.

Locked inside the cage of flesh and bones

my soul flutters to break free.

While my body devours

 soft morsels of worldly food.

My soul famished and my heart cringed.

Lost and numb , with a body

weighing so heavy I  stood to pray .

I put my head  on the ground 

in sujood and in submission.

Few moments of quietness and

Restlessness was disarming 

chains were removed.

My heart  felt at peace

and my soul free again.

( Another day when you feel low and only praying/meditation helps( at least for my case)  . I strongly believe that our soul needs to be fed , nourished and  taken care of similarly  like  our bodies.  Good deeds, good thoughts ,remembrance of God ,being grateful and prayers  are its food .

This picture was taken an year before in port of Barcelona with seagulls enjoying the sun )

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Its Snowing

Like a child waits for  snow

You also waited for it so

When will it snow ?

enquiring each week passing by

and my  constant reply,

How Do I know ? 

 

So yesterday you came with a big smile

and twinkle in your eyes 

asking me  you know what?

It has started to snow.

But it’s raining ,

I hope it stays till morning .

 

Then at  early dawn

with sleepy eyes and a yawn

you went to check

if the snow has stayed.

A white furry carpet on grass

and on rooftops of cars 

delighted your soft heart .

 

 Don’t you like the snow ?? 

You asked me looking

outside the window.

I like it but I like it more

to watch you love the snow.

(so finally we had our first snow in Belgium though not much  , we will have more over the weekend , feels like winter now. I am loving the chilly air) 

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Sunset

Sunsets always make me nostalgic and pensive as I look at the magnificent sky and its mesmerising colours. I haven’t written a poem for almost 5 years now, I was never a regular writer but every now and then I would pick a pen and paper and write a poem since my childhood. Later when I grew up and read them, they seemed so childish and foolish. There were some nice poems too of my teenage years and early twenties but one thing was common, they were all sad. Reading them was revisiting my past and return of pain as well. Slowly I stopped reading my poems later any poem and eventually gave up writing too. Since then five years have already passed.

Last year I created my blog without having any slightest intention of coming back to poetry; it was to express my thoughts on so many social issues and stereotypes. I started following so many of you who write exceptionally good poetry. Reading their work has reignited the old dead flames. The words started talking to me and my hands were seeking paper and pen. I kept resisting but you see here I am 🙂

My first one after the long break,

I watched the shades on canvas

As the painter paints His sky.

Here goes the giant brush

To paint all blue,

 Then a wave of red

With some yellow strokes

and voila,

 It looks redder today!

Soon the black curtain

of night is pulled over

And the magic ends.

Only to wait for next painting

Until the next sunset.

 

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