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۔

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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.

The Rain Romance

Islamabad is having the first prolonged downpour of the current monsoon which remained largely dry to frustrate the expectations of respite from a blistering hot summer with unprecedented electricity cut offs.

Such a late arrival of the much needed rain is bound to bring gratitude and bliss. The clouds were ripe right from the last night and one couldn’t wait for the wine to be squeezed by the divine hands. The mild tipper-tapper like the whisper of the beloved woke me early this morning and it wasn’t long before we embraced in a hug of love.

The pouring rain fills a vast chunk in the largely bereft world of my romance; it melts my heart in to a deluge of emotions. I feel as if there is no worry in the world but love. As if a beautiful guest is visiting me. I cannot recall the first sight of my love; it has been all along with me, in me. I remember how in my boyhood I’d use ride on the bicycle in the pouring rain, roaming the streets of my little town and coming back home excitedly drenched.

Today is such a day. A day to celebrate. A reminder that life is not all dull and dour. That nature is there to soothe or sorrows and give us the gift of rain.

 

Love lives vulnerable

Love doesn’t pass away.

It lingers

on the edges of conscious

waiting and seeing

the reason collapse;

 

till it labors

deep into the heart

building from the ruins

another abode;

 

only to be threatened

by a bigger thought-

construct.

 

Love lives on

though homeless,

destitute.

 

Dil usay chahay jisay aqal nahi chahti hay

khana jangi hay ajab zehn o badan may ab ke