Lost-Part 2

How do I

name this feeling

Of avoid

Of escape

From my own self.

Fearing to stand

in front of myself.

Where it is

me against me.

Where the other 

asks the account

of life’s each day !

Of life’s each moment.

And I haven’t a penny

Of any worthy actions

to fill up the wasted

baskets of time.

Life is running

out of time!

These moments 

are evaporating.

Stronger I try to hold 

 faster they slip 

out of my hands

Like the grains

of a hot sand 

 on a summer 

Saharan   afternoon .



Lost in the ocean of people

So many around but none.

The emptiness surrounds

And I ask am I the only one ?

I distract myself

to this ongoing world.

Faking a smile and

sometimes a laugh .

Daily chores and work

Is only an escape a getaway

from my constant wandering

in jungle of thoughts.

I come back home

Tired and bored.

Only to find myself

waiting on the doors!

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 ) 


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.


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.


#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 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.


(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 .


( 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  )



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  )