Find them if you may

Dust and smoke on some rusty roads.

The ghosts of writing spring out alone,

Near the dawn of the day

Or into the midnight fog

Mocking the shadows of my words;

Blow out the candles, Dark out the night. 

 

Find them if you may or better still,

Say rest in peace

To that what haunts you;

The silhouette of words,

The ghosts of writing,

The muses so shy.

 

If you then still persist;

Walk along the train tracks,

Run after the missed bus,

Hail loudly for a worn out taxi,

Board a plane or 

Adventure on a ship.

You will not find them.

Words lost aren’t meant to be found.

 

Lying on a charpoy

Hang onto the starry sky,

A moon will glow back at you.

Drink away the summer night

With thoughts of a rosy past,

With plans for a morrow not seen.

You will not find them.

Words lost aren’t meant to be found. 

 

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The Lack of a Story

The story of our lives
Prancing around
To the beat of a clock’s needles
Tick tock, tick tock.

The story of our lives
Getting frozen in frames
In the choices of the many ‘apps’
Perfected from imperfections,

The story of our lives
Getting etched into the hashtags
Forever to be measured
By the angle of the shot.

The story of our lives
Interpreted through filters
Sepia perhaps too nostalgic?
Rainbow a tad bit gray.

The story of our lives
Split between head and heart
An ode to the dichotomy
To which we forever remain baffled.

Love is in the Air

I see Ryan Goslings and I feel I’m in love. I think about that heart throb character in a novel and I feel lovesick. I think of John Keats (my recent crush from the dead) and I feel sad, in a loving way, like you feel for the parted ones. Hence love is in the air. Actually, my talking of love is in total contradiction to who I’m. Its like talking about some guilty pleasure but no, its not that either. My guilty pleasure these days is thinking over and over and over again about the non existent person from a novel.  But is the above mentioned really love or is it merely something totally over rated. Overrated because every other person today is in love, like me.

Nah.

I’m really not the right (read: romantic, lovesick) person to be talking about love (the one which you feel for a certain someone, get married to and have kids with). Yet I’m at it. Its a free world. I can talk about things I don’t understand. A certain kind of liberty social media allows me today. Talk about something you have no understanding off. But hey, come on. I’m not a heartless soul.

Like I said above, I m currently lovesick which means I have a potential to go through the ‘fall in love’ phase in my life. Spring is here and it is making me think differently about what makes people love each other and finally take the vows together. What is love, ishq, muhabbat ? ‘Muhabbat’ is essentially what love is but it is a more richer and poetic word in the Subcontinental context/culture.

There are many dimensions to love or so I would like to believe. I think love in its true meaning has a lot of layers to it, it has a magic and an illusion to it. Love is that time in one’s life when emotions are ripening, the hearts are young, the blood is rushing through the body like someone running a marathon.  It is wonderful to have someone in your life to share your big and small problems and successes and failures with.  Its like waking up to the sound of the soft rain beating against the window pane. Love makes the world look beautiful and for a few seconds you even think of Zardari (Pakistan’s President) in a loving way. Like the Red Bull’s advert says, ‘… gives you wings’, love in a way, gives one wings too ( this isn’t my original expression, I heard someone say like that so..)  It’s believing that humans are capable of doing more good than harm. It makes a poet out of ordinary people. Love makes men have butterflies in their stomachs. Its brings out the best in human species. There are moments in everyone’s love story/stories when they feel like painting the world their favourite colour. There is a folk song from Pakistan/ South Asian region usually sung at weddings that gives a similar metaphor and the poet/singer is a female in love who requests her beloved to do her a favour. In Punjabi it goes something like this ‘Mainu dharti kalli kera de, mai nacha saari raat’. My translation isn’t very good but this is what the song says: Paint the world for me and I will dance through the night. 

Love is what Faiz ( a seasoned poet of Pakistan) says “jaisay weeranay mai chupkay say bahar aajaye, jaisay sehraron mai holay say chalay baad e naseem” (As in the wilderness spring comes quietly. As, slowly, in the desert, moves the breeze..) It is like a sparkling star far above in the night sky, that sometimes you are unaware of but when you look up, its there. Its always been there shining above you silently, like a secret admirer.

What better way to end the trail of thoughts on love than with what Iqbal Bano sang in her strong, heart touching vocals

This post is dedicated to a blogger friend who recently got engaged.