Finding You (2)



The biggest


On my way




Finding You (1)

I thought the purpose of my life was to find You

Determined, I aimed out for the quest

Only to find, “I needed to aim in”


When ‘it’ resides within

You don’t look without


And now I find ME…

In finding me, I shall find You!

Khuda Hafiz (Good Bye)

 The life ended not only for those who died in Peshawar Killings but for those too, who were left behind. The flowers were killed before their full bloom and the plants withered…

Aaj subha main utha tou sub thek tha

Sardion ka din tha laikin sooraj chamak raha tha

Aaj mera debating competition tha

Main nay Baba say raat ko jaaag ker khoob tiari ki thee

Mama nay mujhey  payar aur bohat sii duain dee theen

Dada Abu nay bhi dhair sara piar kia tha

Aaj main bohat dair tak sheeshay kay samnay khara apnay baal banata raha

Aur taqreer dohrata raha

Mujhey her lehaz say perfect dikhna tha na

Wo mehnat jo Baba nay mujh pey ki thee uss ka sila meri muqablay main laa’ee hui trophy thee

Mama ki duaon aur Dada ke dhair saray piar ka jawab bhi tu daina tha na

Aur phir main stage per pohncha

Meray sub doston nay bohat taalian bajaeen

Abhi main ney taqreer shuru hee kee thee keh dhamaka hua

Aik, phir doosra, phir teesra

Meri taqreer key lafz dhamakay aur cheekhon key shor main dub gaey

Aur phir wo bandooq wala hall main daakhil hua

Aisay jaisay film main villain aatay hain

Unhon nay meray dost Farhan per goli chalai tou main nay Farhan ko awaz dii

Wo waheen seeerhee per gira tha aur uska uniform laal ho raha tha

Main nay dice key neechay chupna chaha laikin

Wo bandooq thamay huay wahan bhi pohncha

Main nay taqreer key kaghaz wala haath mun pey rakh ker apni cheekh roki

Aur phir kuch bhi thek nahin raha

Uss aik lamhay main

Meray Baba ki Mehnat, Meri mama ki dua aur meray dada ki muhabbat

Sub ki jaga

Siwaey meray behtay khoon, aur unki siskion key…

Kuch na raha.

When the soul lies down in that grass, the world is too full to talk about.

I want to go to the place,

where dwell those,

Whose stories of passion,

are painted on the walls with their blood.

Where the wind carries the ashes,

of moths,

who lived and died in their own flames.

The place,

where the orchestra of wind chimes-


on the ashes of the eternal beings.

I want to go to the place,

where there are entwined paths,

of You and me,

leading to a destination that is none.

Lay chalo, lay chalo Mujhey wahan lay chalo

In the Name of Honour (Dis)

You were,
My trust, my belief, my devotion.
Each day I lived, I lived for you,
On your terms
I carried your child in my womb
Not once I had done it twice.
I thought we could do it,
I thought we were ‘family’
I thought by entering my body You entered my soul.
I thought it was love…
And then One day,
when they told me You were enraged on something I didn’t even do
And That you would kill me I said, “no matter what, he can not kill me”.
I trusted you, ENOUGH!
That night You came to me With that look in your eyes
and I said to myself I was right and they were wrong You loved me, you wanted me…
I had let you in With warmth in my heart
I entrusted my body, my dignity, my trust,
To you, like always and yet again…
You had loved my hair…long and in the braid or So you said, often.
You encircled my neck with what you said, you loved.
Aaah, the object of your love became executed my life.
But O my murderer, my trust, my belief, my devotion
You did not murder me
It was My trust that bleed to death
My love breathed its last
And those two lives I had carried in my womb, once…withered, forever!
To honour the lives of those who died in the name of Honour (dis), For Fouzia—Her true story soaked in her own blood!

ان کہی

میرے ذہن میں
ان گنت تانے بانے ہیں ایک کہانی کے
مگر سجھائ نہیں دیتا کہ کس سرے کو کہاں سے پکڑوں
اپنی کہانی کہاں سے شروع کروں
اور پھر میں کہانی نویس بھی نہیں
میرے پاس لفظوں کا وہ ذخیرہ اور بات کرنے کا ڈھنگ بھی نہیں
اور پھر تانے بانے کا سرا ہی کہاں ہے
یہ تو ایک گنجلک ہے
سامنے سے سادہ اندر اتر جاؤ تو عمیق
تو پھر میں کیسے کہوں اور کیا
شاید یہ ان کہی میرا مقدر ہے