Dear Mother!

When I was a child

I used to dream

of becoming such strong

so that to raise your stature

to the stars; you termed my destination

yet I needed you to grow me up.

And when I’ve grown up

I still need your prayers

to pluck those stars

and sprinkle it

under your feet

right where my heaven lies.

Rainy seasons

How poignant they are!
The tiny drops of rain,
Pouring in unison,
Waking the slumbering pain.

Drops of rain in the olden days,
Sang the songs of our merry souls,
Now they appear mourners,
Of our dreary hearts to console.

Walking lonsome in the woods,
I trace those rainy seasons,
Finding them gone with the winds,
I make my own rainy seasons.

Aur bijli chali gayee!

The last year or so has seen Pakistan running out of its energy resources thanks to our ever increasing energy consumption against the stagnant energy production resources.It is an obvious fact that we haven’t been able to produce energy in par with the requirements of our increased population over the years plus the expanding manufacturing units.

The blame lies entirely on our policy makers who have totally failed to chalk out an unpretentious energy production policy which could effectively reduce if not totally diminish the situation that we are witnessing now a days ; routine electricity breakdowns for major parts of the day and the subsequent stoppages of hundreds of manufacturing units throughout the country. True, the Kalabagh dam strategy is awaiting national consensus which according to many can solve all our energy problems but there are many who conceive it a plan totally unfeasible given the apprehension that it can be hazardous for both Sind and NWFP. Moreover there should have been an equal emphasis on smaller dams which are producing great results the world over.

Now, as the proverbial dying man tries to catch by a straw, we are seeing this organization jumping on to the scene; Enercon, promoting energy conservation through difference campaigns. A commendable effort indeed but with the question; why so late? Had there been a sound strategy of energy consumption earlier, we might not have run so much short of it.

As a cricket crazy nation we can sacrifice electricity for our industrial units, hospitals, study and research centers but not a floodlight cricket match. Yes, it is indeed an honor for us to gather each and every current of our dying electric resources and provide a perfect sunny environment in the ground and play a team like Bangladesh who’ve graciously touched down our land in a time when everybody else was shying away. There were a hint or two of fun in the irony, last night when those towering floodlights in the Gaddafi Stadium went off leaving all and sundry in a perfect gloom giving a picture of a typical Pakistani blacked out eventide.

Thumbs up PCB! We’re dying for those floodlit matches!


I’m extremely entrhralled to see a published translated poem against my name in the latest edition of The Pakistan Acadamy Of Letters’ english literary journal Pakistani Literature”.

This special issue of the journal is based on the literary contributions of Pakistani women writers. One of my translations of the poems of a female pushto poet ‘Hasina Gul’ is graciously being put on the journal by the kind editors. I’ve also been sent a payment check of recognition with an amount, the secret the better. Neverthless I’m over the moon! and why shouldn’t I, for this is my first ever publication of sorts. Hope, they’ll be as encouraging as they’ve proved to be.
Here’s the translated poem;


Gaze fixed,
Upon my face,
He talks to me in a manner,
So candid,
Enthusiastic about my thoughts,
And my art,
He reserves a special praise,
For all my beautiful poems,
A contrast resides in the debonair’s life,
Hard to negate,
So, sometimes when, without a reason,
I dial a call to that person,
The handsome,
Who is it talking,
He asks, in a tone,
So strange!
After exchanging,
Such pleasantries.

Fearing thy passion!

You can’t deny
a relationship
with the sky,
that is why
I heard, it rained
While I was away.

Your smile’s
a rainbow.
And a glowing sun sets,
when you blush
after hearing
my whispers.

Nights are,
full moonlit
in your company
for the brief intervals
when those naughty
hair locks
cover your face.

I avoid sun,
of the mid June
for its intensity,
and I fear
your passion
will burn me alive!