2019, Poems and poetry

Creation from Chaos

Bring me to my paint brushes when I am away from home.
Remind me of this freedom when I am crying of suffocation.

If my hand is pulling for a noose and my eyes are blinded by rushing streams
Gently hold me by my shoulders, guide me to art and silence,

And give me enough time.

I will hopefully carve out a creation out of chaos.

(I mean, actually inshaa Allah and aameen to that. It’s…like…an actual thing)

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2019, By the roaring waves!, Poems and poetry, Urdu musings

Haar

Meray kuch khuwab hain
Unhe tum khareed lo
Umeedon ke jitnay rang
Zang pakaranay lagay hain
Un ka mai tou kia karun?
Tum samait lo
Beshak khali booseeda bastay me band kar ke chor do
Kaheen phaink do
Magar inhe zinda dargor hotay mai dekh nahi sakti
Ye zimmedari mai sahaar nahi sakti
So isay tum apnay sar le lo
Ye aik qatal meray naam pe
Meray maazi, meray haal, meray mustaqil ke sitaron jugnuon titliyun ka tum kardo
Aur akhir me
Apnay se jurri har yaad
Har baat
Is zaat ka har raaz
Dua, aansoo, hansi, marzi
Jala kar khaak kardo
Meri haar amar kardo



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2018, Poems and poetry, raw and rough

No edits.

It still means a cold hard blow
cold hard blow on the heart
like someone hammers it into pieces
while looking sideways
you’re so hurt yourself, you say
it was never intentional to reach
here. this
now
is our collective mistake. or something from the universe
if only you could stop right now
if only you could go back in time
one last time back in time one last —
you’d do it again.

You would.

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