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Islamabad Calling

It’s been a while since I’ve last had some food for thought and there’s an obvious hunger inside my soul. Never did I know that there would be such a drought of inspiration in the city I moved into, where people are barren lands. Yes, it isn’t wise to blame your surrounds for personal exasperations but there is definitely some truth behind the philosophy of people exuding vibes – good or bad. Yet I long for the literal green pastures of Islamabad and the company of good friends, colleagues and mentors whose presence would keep my spirits high during times when uncertainties made their way into my thought processes.

Now again is the time to fix my gaze to the same green pastures and wait for the miracle of the law of attraction – who knows if I find my lost connection. InshaAllah I will.

Youth Are The Lifeline

I am posting here an old essay of mine that I wrote back in 2011 but the relevance of which cannot be denied in today’s or future Pakistan, though the relevance and importance of a young population could spring hopes of a better future anywhere in the world.

A French proverb goes like ‘youth lives on hope, old age on remembrance’. Here we would discuss in detail the first part of the French wisdom that is universal in soul and has proven right time and again.

The evolution and progress of societies need solid grounds i-e the strength of population, the economic resources, cohesion etc. Today’s world that is massively populous, less ethical and dangerously power-centric, is a practical example of Herbert Spencer’s coined phrase of ‘the survival of the fittest’. Hence for a given society to survive and thrive, it must have a well managed and conspicuous chunk of youth population, for youth are the most potential and capable of all the segments of a society.

In the above context, the struggle for the independence of Pakistan was the fruition of the efforts of Sir Syed Ahmad Khan who channelized the energies of the Muslim youth through the Aligarh Tehreek. Allama Mohammad Iqbal deemed the awakening of the Muslim youth to be the only way out of the British and Hindu manipulation. He did stir that hope in the Muslim youth, hence the creation of Pakistan.

The preservation of independence they say, is the hardest part. Sadly enough the post independence era in Pakistan saw the demise or ageing of the stalwarts of the Pakistan movement and there was no next breed of the erstwhile inspired youth to carry the country through to progress and prosperity. Men with myopic vision and unsatiable lust for power took reigns one after the other squandering  a significant part of the country in the process.

Yet Pakistan emerged out of many a catastrophe mainly courtesy the vibrancy of its youth. Were it not for the  valiance of its Jawans in the war of 1965, Pakistan could so easily be a victim to the whims of the neighbor. The devastating earth quake of 2005 saw the emergence of a new, refreshing face of the Pakistani youth who employed all their capacities to help the earth-quake stricken stand on their feet. Be it helping the war-hit IDPs or the flood affectees, we have numerous examples of the sincerity and capability of the Pakistani youth to transform despair into hope.

Pakistan is fortunate in a way as to have a youth population of more than 50 percent, larger than any other neighboring country. If properly channelized and groomed it could make wonders. Today when Pakistan is caught in the worst internal and external crises, one finds hope to see the organized bodies of the Pakistani youth on the social networking websites and their activism on roads to help bring positive change in the society. In the prevalent gloom if the national horizon flashes with any light they are the silver lines drawn by the brilliance of youth.

 

Re-visiting my blog

Now when I’ve re-stepped into this blog after an eon’s gap, do I realize that am in the mid of a desert that once was not so deserted. There’s plenty amount of water passed under the bridge of my life ever since, for better, thankfully. There’s a thick layer of rust accumulated over my thinking brain and my writing pen though. For now I do intend to update this space more regularly by trying not to let go off ideas without giving them some kind of a shape here, the way I used to treat them in a distant past. The forms and shapes of the ideas may not be as decent as one or two of my previous writing efforts were, I’d still like them here for something is better than not writing at all.

Hope for an update on this blog very soon.

 

 

We had nothing much

Between us,

Except for a seed,

Soiled deep in our chests

It never grew into a shade.

In the universal drought

Of light, the weather took lives

To change.

 

We have nothing much

Between us

Except for a fruit

We are never meant to taste.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

میں اگر زیست کی

اس کہانی کو

تصنیف خود کررہا ہوں

تو کردار میرے بنائے ہوئے

کیوں نہیں ہیں،

 

یہ کہانی ورق در ورق

باب در باب

میرے تصور کے برعکس

تبدیل ہوتی رہی ہے،

 

میرا احساس خود مجھ کو

جبری مشقت کا قیدی

بنائے ہوئے ہے،

 

مگرآسمان محبت میں

ہلکی سی جنبش ہوئی ہے

اور مجھ کو یقیں ہے

میرے حصے کی روشن کرن

میرے زنداں کی جانب

روانہ ہوئی ہے۔

High, Hermit, Hook, Heal

I’ve written it mouthfulls and am yearning for brevity but am liking the start of the process. Hope things will improve with practice and time. The post is again courtesy the kind one I’ve mentioned in the last blog 🙂

The sky falls flat in my feet

as I pluck star after a blazing star;

I blow them cold, so they cannot char

your finger-tips.

Then I take you high,

leaving my ego with the townsfolk.

_______________________________________________________________________

I lose you somewhere in the ether;

your eyes, kohled with star-dust

turn blind on me.

_______________________________________________________________________

I’m a hermit,

living another time and space

beyond the din of the earth’s ridicule,

even the reach of your apathy.

________________________________________________________________________

Yet, on certain moonless nights

a Polaris keeps me hooked to the fire;

a yearning comes to crush it kohl,

to heal a wound,

to grace a pair of eyes.

 

 

 

Serendipity. Serenade. See. Seduce

I requested Samira to help me write something with prompts. She was kind enough to respond with the titled words that I tried to build an idea upon, notwithstanding it coming out rough and very raw but I could be forgiven for one can rarely be fluent after taking such long intervals of inactivity in writing.

Life barely walked,

in the desert veins,

trudging along the travails

till it reached the sweet serendipity

of an oasis –

heart –

soaked in the monsoon

of your thoughts;

sedate, a touch shade

your eyes.

The beats played a serenade

as though to lure you back.

See, how rich is this abode,

seducing the red in veins

to mix in your lips.