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Self destruction will only last you till death
You could be much more
With ambition and hunger
In your blood
Why waste the life and spirit that God wasted on you
And why kill the life the dead decided to see in you
Hunger for anything but food
Is good
Think of the land
Waiting for you
The phool in between the pahaar are waiting for you to step on them
Why sleep
When you could run
And leave something for those who don’t have a clue of how wretched they are
Like the orphan you loved
Like all the stars
That watch
From a far
Waiting
To wish from their hearts
When you finally fall

 

The number 5

When I was nearly four ,
Seven or nine ;
At the middle of the country side I pinned and I pinned ;
Crying crocodile tears as large as duck eggs while the show moved on in a line ;
But eventually a broken horse pulled around from the dark alley and I hitched a ride ;
At home,  that cursed night , I tried to write , a sorry note , to my dear enraged mother – one at a time ;
Had I been older , a lover there would probably have been, to whom I would have been merrily engaged with – letter upon letter – all the time ;
But that was not the case , and till now it is not the case , and perhaps it is with grief and mellow misfortune that we slowly lose our minds ;
It was the number five !
I had tried and been unable to write or draw the number five,  much to my simple panic – and much to my mother’s loud cries ;
Suspicion went on my behavior,  and the household of candles hailed that I lost the ability because I pinned and I pinned ;
Why ? Oh ! Why ?
Had I not just tried ?
I did what any child does – believe parents over the world,  believe your parents over yourself and look for a deserted island to land and hide ;
And not much has changed,  since the witches with looming eyes became rulers and the knights led the war on my land – I can barely think twice ;
Cries , wails , broken rails have only shattered me more – like they feed on the flesh they enslaved like a bought bride ;
But lets try not more , let us not cry or pine over poison and over  victory that is not ours – if we just smile and sleep with what little we have this body and soul might not collide with darkness  ; and I will not wish any longer to pine or hide ;

On muffin tops and Love handles

I was in the car driving home. It was a hot day and I was tired as hell so I decided to sleep , trying to ignore the nausea of spending the whole day sweating,  breathing the humid air to being waved in the flat face with the sharp sting of the air conditioner.
Laying my head against the window thinking about last night or small bits of it , slightly smiling . I have this habit of remembering cute moments and smiling like a shameless idiot . Its the best thing .
But it didn’t last long – a sudden tapping made me open my eyes .A woman was outside on the other side of the window  , preseing her heart out for pennies, but before I could respond we drove away .

Fat . Fat is a great source of energy that we get from several food groups. It is a layer of insulation under  our skin and over our muscles . And according to many opinions of the modern world,  magazines ,tv shows , men women,  boys and girls and the multiple tormenting voices in my head – its highly unattractive.
I was a chunby child , an overweight teenager , and I’ve been fat in general – but it doesn’t matter where I go from here , because I will always be fat .
Even if I do lose my extra pounds I will still be fat .
Try  not to take me wrong please – I know that a lot of fat cannot be a  healthy option , and Im not in any denial. I know that the general world looks upon it as ugly . It dounds shallow and rude in writing – because the world is shallow and rude in experience,  no matter how much they sugarcoat , ignore or deny it . They hurt. I won’t be surprised to hear if some people commit suicide just because of body image trouble.
So I thought I should finally take some time out and talk about my twenty years in this body , that has haunted me.
I think girls all over the world regardless of background feel the need or pressure to be beautiful – especially when they are small and think photoshopped pictures are real or when are growing old and are constantly beating themselves up about it .
Everything sort falls down or comes back just to the way you look .
Enough about that – back to me.

I was a very bubbly kid – one with too much personality who enjoyed throwing tantrums and was the center of attention,  but compared to other kids by the time  I was about 12 ,it became obvious that I was on the large side . It didn’t bother me when I was younger – but the life long scar seed was buried in me then , without any understanding of it .
Its starts with the way they touch you . Where ever you go people reach out for your cheeks or lightly slap you on the hips or gently tuck you in the belly.
Then comes the duality of certain nicknames , that indicate your chubbiness. Its not bullying just gentle fun , which was always followed by someone older telling you to not listen to them or ‘ dont take what they say to heart ‘ – you know like your part of a the freak show and there is something to be ashamed of .

At school kids can be cruel . Not little kids but the slowly turning into teenager kids . Girls are mean to each other in a hundred different Ways  . I blame their mothers .And mob mentality.
At this stage kids may not pay their bodies a lot of attention as the its still the parents job to make sure they get to school clean . At least that’s how I remember it  .
The trouble of being different , looking , sounding or feeling different swings up around kids eventually when they are treated different .
Then puberty happens .And does it.The panic of finding blood between your legs and on your white uniform . Not knowing what’s going on . I thought I was dying .
These are things girls like to talk about at first , then they stop . Then when physical developments become more obvious – body shaming reaches a new level . You can’t be carefree anymore.  You have to make sure no one sees anything they should not see . But among the hush hush you begin to judge yourself more – now you are more self aware.
A young person – no longer a child . At least that’s what they tell you and you believe them.
By this time you hate yourself – and try really bad ways to shed those pounds . A lot of times you try the simple stuff , like not taking sugar in your tea anymore and then secretly taking medications without telling anyone.
Its a sad point , that nobody actually sees how bad it is .seriously why couldn’t you be like the girl in the movies,  like the ones everyone circled around . Who stood out in a crowd – and probably weren’t reminded every three minutes later that they were fat . That something was wrong with them .

The strange thing is that people dont seem to see how double sided they are. They seem to think that they are doing us a favour , by telling us what we are a little louder than everyone else . But no you’re not . At least not for me . I know that I’m fat . Even those in denial know it – what we  would like is to be noticed for other things about us to .
And another  odd thing society tells you is that – nothing good can happen to you if you are fat . Like all good things are at a full stop because of it .
No one will marry you because you are fat .
No one will like you because you are fat.
They will say things about you.
They will make fun of you – and all the rest .

People with this sense of innocent mockery will mention how much you need to lose weight , for obvious reasons.  They seem to think they are only ones telling us , trust me , you are only one in the hundred.
And some stuff is really strange.
” You’re really pretty you just have to lose weight ”
So am I pretty or not or is your assessment of my looks on hold.
These are also the people who go around telling other people about how much God loves you and how He made you perfect just the way you are . But with you they turn the other cheek .

Its in the very language. I can’t help but feel that I’ve been targeted about my body my whole life . Probably why I dont go out that much , the more you do the more you are reminded of it. That somehow this  is my only prominent feature and its something they would want to talk about or make jokes about ,so , why face the embarrassment.
I’m not running away from it . Its just that I wonder if I was less large the words would be different. Would I have been happier? Someone who is not spiteful of the world ?
I probably would. Its a strange matrix in itself .But thats how it is .
I can try to be nice all I want , but counts up to nothing in this ‘lose weight to get hitched world ‘ . Even if I do lose weight, I think I would just be reminded of how fat I used to be once .
And no – there is nothing spiritually or morally wrong with being fat – but they make you feel it down to your bones. There was so much I did not do because I had a low opinion of myself .

I will always be fat . And you know what its perfectly okay . Its nothing to be ashamed of – it may have taken me a while to realize but its not the end of the world if you are a little chunky and you should let people treat you any less because of what you look like . This world  is about survival and for me being a good person and I refuse to be pushed around about the way I look anymore.  Besides the same people who bullied me about my weight are the same who bullied other people about their skin colour or financial background.
There will be no one to the bullying,  but there can be an end to how much you let it hurt of touch you . I am no less of a  person than anyone else. I may have a few flaws and be shy but they can be fixed .
I’m going to love myself now  . And nobody can take that away  from me .

Fragmented

Summer dark

In the dead of the night
A nightingale and a white rose
Die to create a red rose
In the dead of the night
Where the curtain of the heavens hold still their tongues
The moon does not remain silent
There is a boy
With a blue baloon goes down the streets at this time
Looking for a warm fire to save him
There is a black cat that the folk drive away as a bad omen
And the mrytle lies outside a friends door
Locked with gold
Sealed with suspicion
The boy finds the mrytle
And eats it
For the baloon wont fit in his mouth
He lets go of the bag of air
Into the greater bag of air
Running down the hill
While the baloon
Like the moon
Cannot stay silent

Blue hazel

The mountains,meadows and drops of snow ;
The fish of forbidden gold – The fountain of false youth that puts supple sugar canes to shame ;
There are papers
Fill in those papers with the souless dots of my auburn blood ;
For my blood is thirsty –
In pursuit of cherries and red sea coral , for blood is pomegranates freshly cut , blood is roses under rain and monsoon sun , blood is rubies gifted to royalty in spain ;
But mine are of a terrific crime ;
My blood is rot and rubble of a dogs vomit , my blood is the juice of a worthless insect, my blood is the black brown bark of a broken tree for  slaughter ;
Nature of the most pure kind has been flogged , the sun shall not rise , burn , whirl or burst until this serum so corrupted so wronged in wonder ,
Is returned to the three drops of blood on the face of the endless cold crystals of snow ;

Drive by gone

You’ll last longer
Because you were no shot in the dark
No random gift from God
No gracious mistake of nature
Not a candle in the wind
Never the first to be seen
Neither the one to leave
For whatever favour
Or cross sight of the first future
But you will
Be something unique among the streets of midnight dreams
Like the moon behind clouds
Or during an eclipse no one saw coming
But when you do shine
Oh do you !

Last date

Sometimes words don’t come easy
They stay as lumps of rubble
Packed in our throats
Not loud enough a rebel
To break the thin border of reality
Ofcourse sometimes there are not words enough for our feelings
And dictionaries are wasted lands
While the mouth is in famine
But dont worry
If you cant

I’ll have to risk it
Perhaps
I already know
Whats going to happen
Whats up in the stars
And maybe
Thats how it is for everyone
That I know
And have known
All the work  Hard work
Just to watch it all slip away
As times passes us by
As time passes us by
All our dreams
Our wishes set against the universe
Just to see it fade away
Fade away
Without a good bye

Seems Madame

Seems to me
Seemingly
That the people of the sea
Did not want to see the shore
The spirits of the sky never looked down again
The animals that roamed the still grass lands of apples and snow tops
Had no question of the past or future
The birds did not fly away
When the snow fell like rain
All seemed
It seemed like heaven
But slow  But empty
Incomplete without them
….. when they came fire danced into the sky
The seas drank blood
And ash blasted into the sky just to fall
A chaos struck the ground
And the world found its peace

My child still

I dont have anything to say at the moment,  or maybe its just that my head is a bit dazzled.
As a good person  you are expected to be polite and nice to people despite them being rude to you .
Out of common decency you have to be happy when someone achieves something , and we try the best we can to be sincere .
But perhaps I am not . Forgive me that I do so .

When I told you about the sad things I had to go through it was just information to you . When I laughed and decided to play it was only annoying to you . When I wanted a softer tone or an honest smile it felt outrageous to you. In the start I did what we all do. I put up with it because my feelings and ego was involved , so it became a matter of self respect.

For my mother self respect meant something else , it meant fighting , it meant giving everything one had for the cause of honour. I dont believe that. My opinion may be the child of a bad experience or the child of a new social theory but it is my child still.
I will not drink in tears for another , my own swords have left little room for more pains .

Lahore by Night – or just a little

During the early winters of last year , I had found a new wasteful but enjoyable pass time.  Photography was something new for me , it was not something anyone ever associated me with , no , I was always poems , writers , something beautiful from the past , the moon child who just didn’t seem to bloom  like the others had .

And I was not very good in the long beginning,  most of my friends said it was a flop of a pursuit,  but  it didn’t matter , because I was sad and writing was common and lonely, photography was new and full of people.  Eventually I got better and people liked my stuff,  and I spent most of those winter nights praying in strange scenarios for a proper, professional camera. I still dont have one , but one day I might , and when that day comes I’m going to take my picture projects to the next level.

Two years earlier,  I came across this article about Brassi and his Paris de nuit ” pictures.  I fell in love with them , so it was fun when I tried out his concept .
Besides it was better and more applicable for me , since most of the photographers for Lahore jump into the old city or the market areas. I don’t live close to those places , the city is too big and full of excess . So in the night , in the light winter chill with the birthday phone I set out to keep my mind busy with cold hands and heavy white breathing , not to mention the pale shade of berry pink all over my face .

Well ,  I did have fun. The strange part is the streets seemed empty.  I always hear about Lahore as the city that never sleeps and the people just stay busy all night and basically the festivities never stop for them , unike Islamabad.  Islamabad has a fixed bedtime but when I was there the night was just as charming – up there right on top of the mountain restaurant. Monal , everyone loves that place , mostly because of the view and the city lights . Right down on the ground,  dazzling , sparkling like the belly of the sea .
Let me show you.

Anyhow, the food was okay , and the waiters were stuck up and rude. Nothing comes out completely perfect , not even a fancy dinner with an epic view of the capital .

Back to Lahore , I started of with nightime lights and sometimes even cars or motorcycles because I think they look romantic at night.

The roads were silent,  very silent,  so I suppose my attempt of using photography to get more social in the real solid world did not go so well. In the virtual world its like a whole new world opened up for me and I made lots of new friends,  friends like myself.  It was a good playful time with no hard feelings , which is good because whenever things get painful I tend to abandon the whole thing and wipe it out of memory.

Ofcourse as with all arts , you begin to judge yourself.  Especially when everyone seems to be so much better and famous for it compared to you . Leading you to wonder what it must be that you are doing wrong .

But that’s okay . This is probably the point in your life where you get hurt or overwhelmed by the weight of the world , when your parents think its a good thing not to be protecting you anymore . Maybe its good to let you fall and break a little and stich back the fabric with what ever you can find while trying to hide the scars .

The nights were like that to cold ,present , covering yet lonesome . Often you just find yourself alone looking at the people who are going towards the mosque  or going on a walk with headphones on , or some boys driving around a lot faster than they should with the music on loud . Too loud but in a nice way. Somewhere in the dark of the park you’ll find chain smoking teenagers dealing with addictions and being rebellious like we all were . And close to them someone will be on the swings , rocking the chains up and down , a rather cringe worthy sound – you can hear from a far away distance. Back in the streets you can find small kids playing outside their houses while their parents are inside discussing the revolts in Islamabad.  What a time it was to be alive . Like a couple of months ago when it felt anything was going to happen , and maybe it did .

Im still waiting for something to happen. Something to just break inside of me so I wont be dead anymore.  Because even a dead night if full of wonder and complexity.  And that air was full of change which anyone could breathe except me . Stagnant as the sea and hopeless as the desert,  waiting and waiting.

Will it happen ? That moment of closure and growth – or will it always be like this? ;
For the city it will all change , my father reminds me everything when we drive around how much everything has changed since he was young . Fields turned into housing plots and donkey carts turned into cars .
I wonder how much it will change for me .

You’d rather be …

Nothing is fine
And yet im alive
They say its enough to be grateful for
But it is ?
Have you seen someone just exist
And like them
See someone barely alive
And feel happy for
See someone who would die with the slightest touch
Who could fall apart by the lightest air
Who could dissolve with one unkind word

Who could not fend for himself
Could you feel happy or grateful for that person
yes !yes!yes! You would
But if you were that person
Youd rather be dead

False friends

When thunder , lightning and rain
Tore the bonds between us
You should not  have been surprised
Yet you were
Your tears and blood were on the rise
And mouth dried with wet guilt
And so appearance got the best for you
In the eyes of the world
And I was the one who took the fall
But in your eyes the odd reality  you believed unreal
Came straight  to haunt you
And haunts it still
And I had hoped with a little you would realise what had actually done
Yet I to live in disbelief of it
I live in shock of the turn dug into the open sky
A red red strip upon the belt of the ocean
Either a cunning actor , actress among the  actresses and actor smong the other blessings
Yet in all your deception
All your attempts to conceal the  truth
Like a rumoured witch
You did strike with rotting hate your black actions
Into the depths of my pale bosom
You made a great speech to the ears of the blind
Taking advantage of the innocent,  which is no surprise , yet Im surprised you did
Tyrants , liars and all other things dark in the center have used innocence to their own advance
At the price of someone else
The roots of poison that I with holy water pulled from the ground
Came back as a smog and took the souls of those held dear
But do continue
I do not care 
And so
Does not deception give birth to distrust
Do lies told once not last as shocks on the ears when they are caught
Do friends not cease to be  when one harms the other 
Thunder,  lighting and rain
Wear not surprise on your face then
How long will you pretend
The weight of time has been enough
To break lies
Time alone will truth to the world
And time alone will aid me
Even If I in anger lash out in flames
I keep my resent still
But it fills out of my skin so thick
But time
Time is running out
And the truth
Shall be found out

Side lines

Why does everything and everyone have to feel so far away 

It was the last day of the year , with the face of winter and no sunshine ,

The cold would melt underground and dissolve , with the rest of last night ,

I knew something , not like a lesson or a song , or as some lovers may do ,

I knew with a slight chill and a trance of a silver chime ,

That somewhere , in or out , of my home , that it was time ,

The sky in a dress of gold would fall right down into the sea , while we would stand aligned in woe ,

In awe , will I witness the service to our crimes , with pale hearts frozen together stiff,

We knew this would happen, didn’t we ,

years before we were born and centuries after we buried bones in bare graves of mud ,

There was the Rub ,

We knew all along — everyday we knew it more and more — as if waiting made time grow longer

Yet when it happened , it killed us anyway ,

It killed us , in our humble sleep , the comfort of our unease , in the prime of our youth and the day we were finally in love ,

A sad  day indeed

We knew , oh so well , with dreams and stories , dancing in our thoughts , knives above our heads ,

And yet , we hoped by some strange mistake in space , by some wasted wind , by some unimagined fate we were ignorant of ,

that we could be  free of the destiny that sold us