Dreams are a fistful of glowing embers
burning the fate-lines on my palm;
I hold them dear
not to let them die of cold-
shoulders meant to rest a head
full of bruised imaginations,
carry coffins of hopes,
fallen from a sky replete
with rollicking stars.
And the moon that swelled with pride
every night we conversed
seems to have suffered a memory loss
as it stares me blank,
its countenance oddly pale.
The blinking cursor
curses even more
when you keep staring the screen
like an ullu
(wont use the word ‘owl’
for it is wise in the West)
flailing futile for the straw
of an idea to catch; unlike the hay
stuffed in the hollow of your brain.
It is right then, when you shut the cursor down
and go on a Tweeting spree.
Its been a while; almost three months since I let the one or two kind visitors of this blog know what rambled in my mind. The hiatus was long but not an uneventful one. The events begged to be vented but the eternal ennui that I suffer from did not let me type it here. Events like seeing off a very dear friend to the far off lands, like the death of a few more dreams, like a near one coming miraculously back to life, warranted detailed posts but the reason is obvious with a lazy me. All the while what disturbed me the most was a dry spell of ideas to form a poem-cloud, the spell still protracts. All I have is an incomplete poem that I started to write for my mother which I’d hopefully complete in a few moths time and that hopefully will be the next post on this blog. Lemme sleep again 
Who cares for quality when one is not even able to string two decent lines in to a a blogpost! So I better stop this nonsensical wait for a poem to pour or some concentration to muster in a prose. I better share with you my random mind that I tweeted away in the span of a fortnight or so.
Floods: They have wrecked the body structure of Pakistan. Starting from the mountains in the north in KPK and protracting through the plains of southern Punjab to Sind and Baluchistan. The waters were never so high and never so wide to sweep along high buildings, bridges, houses, crops, cattle and most of all precious human lives. The dent to the infrastructure is immense. The misery of millions of our folks is heart-wrenching. People are starved of food, bereft of shelter and exposed to water rife in epidemics. What they need now is the support of us all spared by the calamity. The magnitude of the disaster makes it our obligation to try and restore the lives, pride and dignity of our people in troubled waters.
Altaf bhai: As if we were short of the disasters, bhai saab wants us to be hit by another. In his recent signature telephonic sermon the moron politician invited ‘the patriots’ in military to come forth and take over the reins of this ill-governed state (of the government he himself is a part). He acts crocodile when says he is moved by the cause of the flood-stricken – advocating the cause in his cozy London flate where he’s glued from eternity come hell or high water. And more so, his proposed military takeover to him is neither a martial law nor something unconstitutional – a marriage of both amid the larger national tragedy. He wants chaos, utter chaos!
Spot-Fixing: Let us not bash them left right and center. Let us not propose punishments. It is pre-mature. The allegations are still to be proved. Till whatever comes this latest scandal of spot-fixing by some of the Pakistan cricketers is damaging with a potential to taint the very image of Pakistan and its cricket beyond redemption. Controversies of one or the other kind has been a regular feature on the Pakistan English tours throughout history. The English media is always on a lookout to malign the gifted players from our part of the world. This is not to say our cricketers are innocent. There is a possibility of black sheep everywhere. But they ought not to be considered guilty until proved so. I feel for Aamir. He is too young, too talented to lose his reputation and career in the nasty business of match or spot-fixing. I wish he’s not the culprit!
