As the light freezes its axis into the darkness,
Words uttered in silence find their voices
Keep them hidden “ for years to come”
Of all that existed in this world of our play
As the bones dry out in its parlour
The beautiful dance as the music rolls off its sleeves
The peace and its mechanics,
The lonely leather chair and its surrounding
The mirrors and the toys for the generation next
There in the corner, lies an old piano
Of ivory and oak, of in black and white,
The notes are dead, only the sighs in its silence
the world from the outside window, asleep!

Kashkin

The day I became free
From sacrifices of the past
Of my own and millions
To wear this smile
In green and white
In glistening youth and its warmth
It’s the day I became free

The day I became free
From all those shackles of the past
The differences that had remained
Ingrained in our memory
From years of isolation and crime
As I breathe in a place I call home
It’s the day I became free

The day I became free
From moments of disruption and demise
From the hands of reflection and its creed
From the beasts of the greed and control
As I walked with my toes in its place
From the rivers of the north to the oceans of south
It’s the day I became free

The day I became free
Amidst death and rape, amidst fear and promise
Amidst hope and destruction, amidst loss and repair
On Friday 14th, as I ran towards eternity
As I left behind the dead without burial,
As I left behind my possession without its masters
As I left behind all that was empty and unforgiving
It’s the day I became free

The day I became free
From the torture of the mind and heart
To the steppes of the peace and its music
To the moments of silence and its rapture
Of all that was mine, in between the heavens and earth
To the land of my dreams, to the land of my salvation
It’s the day I became free and immortal!

Kashkin

The years that formed
From distant days and nights
The long episodes and its routines
From one place to another
The struggle for change and progression
As time unfolds its mechanics
Of all that exists now
Remember, there he stood
In the days and nights of revolution
An old soul, tired from years of toil
Finally asleep, do not disturb
A character from the olden times,
From years of insomnia and its turmoil!

Kashkin

We discuss, we create
As once happened in the past
The old stories of civilization
Built by politics and its trade
In wars and in peace
The words of Cicero and Ptolemy
We fight, we retreat
As battles unfold,
As days travel into night
We call this is politics
We say this is our right
To corner, to violate
To deprive others
As these episodes travel
From one heart to another

In the name of politics
As we transform,
Different and indistinguishable
From words we write,
Will they ever come to haunt
No one in presence to witness
Have we forgotten the cause?
Have we forgotten Iqbal and Jinnah?
As we create stories of horror
In our sleep, in our demise
Hear we the shouts in plenty
Remain where you are,
Entitled I am to my opinions
Where rains, the principles
Of fairness and justice,
Where found, in abundance
The lakes of tolerance and patience
We break all we create in our sleep
What a beast we created to prolong
The story of our existence
What a story, that has no end

Politics is beauty, the endangered specimen
Us, the proponents of change and progression
Inspect we must ourselves it’s still time
Not far off from the day when we may become
Humans of the past and dinosaurs of future!

Kashkin

“Around Us” depicts those events that are currently taking place in Pakistan and how it has weakened our moral fabric, the intangible conscience and all that makes us what we are not”.

Engraved in our memory, the old questions
Of freedom and justice, as we watch in silence
Engraved in our memory, the unfolding events
The stories of horror in darkness,
The blunders of our masters, out in the open
In silence- our hands and minds
Engraved in our minds, the old lessons
Of purpose, morals and of courage
As we hear, as we devour, the very fabric
Consumption of all what we once had
Now lay there, only the ruins and questions

In the hazel of dusk, the stories of long march
Out in the open, the corridors of justice- the body
A girl and her existence, kidnapped and raped
To pay the price, the sickness that exists
In minds and in hearts, of flesh and blood
As protectors pay homage to the wolves
The cartels of crime in distance and in open

As we hear the shots, as we see them fall,
The daughters of our land, through crimes
The old trade of flesh and blood and its protection
As the suffering continues, in sorrows and pain
The old hands of mutiny upon us, to shackle
“You will not survive” as we constantly hear
The old sermons through faces of our times
Engulfed in greed and hunger, the story
As the fortune plays their tune, to the mocking crowd

Hear we noises, hear we stories, hear we sermons,
The actions to be taken, the silence must draw
The evils that are there, the darkness that prevails
Through the silken days of our existence,
Comes hither, the brutal reality -naked
The old cartels of crimes, out in the open
As our daughters are sold, as our children pay the price
Of innocence and poverty, as we watch them in silence
The voices inside us, remain inside us, never we shout

The same stories in different formations, around us
Around us, the victims, around us the conscience,
As the hope begins to crackle in its fury
In words and in actions, in participation and presence
As the time stretches itself to eternity
The crimes will never be forgiven small and large
Too much at stake as we devour ourselves
In our greed and in our fame, the forgetful woes
I will stand up, I will stand up, hear me out
Those million souls, asleep as history rewinds
Gather those wolves, gather those evils
Strike them, with justice and strike it hard
The lessons to be learnt, the message to be given
Around us, the wrongs, in its mischief

As the old green now go on sale and in auctions
The symbols of our existence, the symbols of hope
The questions of who will stand up and the answers
Around us, in us, there lies the hope, their lies the quest
Around us, the faces, of victims and hope,
Around us, the magnificent story of our times
There stands a man, in the distance, the history

Around us, the beautiful faces of our generation
Around us, the voices of wisdom and of age
Around us, the passion and principles of conscience
Around us, the existence in flowers and of beauty
Around us, there stands a man, in the distance,
The history, in its words, in its actions,
Around us, Islam and its Prophet, and the civilization
Around us, Jinnah and Iqbal, in words and in peace
Around us, the light from billion years of travel,
Around us, the Universe, it’s Maker, the Force, the Nature
Around us, you and me and million faces,
Around us, the immortal question, of our failures
Hear we not, around us, the voices of reason and wisdom
Around us, the man, in the distance, the history!

Kashkin

“Of all those struggles in human civilization to propagate principles of ethics, accountability and integrity within the society, the best ones are those where all these can be implemented in a  political context. Only then, all those visions and ideologies can be truly implemented” .

Kashkin

Long time ago, witnessed we all
Humans caught up in a trap
In self inflated egos and pride
Hearts fearful and defeated

Shackled were their thoughts
And shackled were they all
In the name of fame and greed
With words of anger and hate

The humans and its existence
Remember I once long time ago
Where we sat in corners of ambiguity
Remember I once long time ago
Where we sat in corners of desperation

Remember I once where we opposed
All that is not right, all that is wrong
In corners of our promise
Remember I once, where we met
For change, for progression and for peace

Become we will Aristotle and Plato
Become we will ambassadors of change
Across morning dew, like those droplets of rain
And ours words thousands oceans in its might

Forgot we the existence as we began
The journey to the world apart
The old metamorphosis and its effect
It’s our turn; we will not remain in fear
If challenge is to come, then embrace
We will, as failures not an option
In all our might and in our sight

As nights turned into days
And as days into nights
As days into weeks
And weeks into months
We will never be the same again
This hunger will remain
Travel we will all to the furthest corners
In search of souls, in search of wisdom
Gather them my friends, as we heard
The old voices and promise of youth
Inside us, as civilizations spoke
And promise taken,
Carry we will far to those places
Strange transformation of change

And remember I tonight
Where we all met, in peace
Through sounds of nature and humanity
From those moments of time
Of arrival to departure
The fusion of past and present

Played there its tunes,
The wisdom and its effect
Played there its music
The youth and its song
Towards future and what it carries
Finally with them who understand
Not through conflict and hate
All heads together, the young and old,
The missing factor, in our existence
Now in union, the fruit and its seed
Not there will be fights or public conflicts
Sit there in peace, finally the humans

Remember the old nations
From the times of Moses
Tonight, it’s our turn to receive
The divine food and its taste
Only in determination, we will walk
Only in unity, we will perform
Remember not long, the day there
Awaits you and me, in its corner
The light, it will embrace us all
Few souls around the table,
And conversations light
There are no fights left,
There are not words of anger
Only of acceptance and appreciation

Long road it has been,
We will get there,
Freedom in sight and of change
No longer will we remain
In isolation and trauma of the past
No more the conflicts, no more politics
Our conscience is clean and light

Only the peace, tranquility and imagination
Deserve we all, we have paid our dues
As we leave, recuperated and cured
For Pakistan and its people
For battles unseen, the wars in front
Change we will, all that is there
That stands upon oppression and evil
Remove we will, these veils of disease
All that is there, those wounds of darkness
Cure we will, all that is in between
You and me, this madness eternal
It’s in my blood, in its flame
In my veins, travelled it has far
From the time of few to millions
In your veins, in your blood
As butterfly breaks out of its cocoon!

KASHKIN

Major Gulzar (Retired) who passed away upon the hills of Bagnotar, during membership campaign. He was sixty years of age and an example to see how his spirit, dedication and passion worked for a cause which is the responsibility of us all for change and for progression in Pakistan.

Lies there in Bagnotar,
The spirit of our time
From years of its service
To protect and to propagate
The old message
Of change and progression
Here is where you will find him
On the hills of Abbotabad
Here is where you will find him
Upon the rocks of Bagnotar
That claimed him and his life
The old body and its spirit

Here is this man,
Where you will find him
The work and its message
For Pakistan and for people
Who says we do not have
The souls that will carry,
The flames of peace and change
Here is this man,
Empty were not his hands,
Carried they the papers
To join and of the ideology
Belong to you all, young and old

Here is this man,
Unknown to me,
Across thousands oceans
And its distance
Carry we will him far,
Beyond those boundaries
Beyond those rocks of Bagnotar
To places all, and to provinces all
The story of how heroes are made
Reminder to us all,
The politicians of our time
And to those in charge
To serve the way it requires
In responsibility and in humility

Never will we abandon you
In those hills of Bagnotar and the fall
Remain you will always with us
And those hands, that served
My old friend, nothing I know
But enough to carry you across
Through those plains of Indus
And to the heat of the deserts
An old tribute, to the sprit
And the hearts that wept

Death comes to us all,
Preserved you have, the passion
The old dignity that walked
Upon those rocks that contained
The old body, now wrapped up
In white, we will miss you
My friend, we will miss you
The struggle and its story!

Kashkin

• Process, Teams & Infrastructure
• Positivity, Tolerance, & Ideas
• Propogation, Thinktanks, & Independence
• Policies, Training and Implementation
• Performance, Timing and Initiatives
• People, Tomorrow and Industrialisation
• Peace, Tranquility & Imagination

Steps 1- 7,
There is a sequence to all this.one can pretty much cover off all the aspects of political process, consolidations of requirements and public perception and delivery…If one can get through these steps, PTI becomes a major force and political party.

Kashkin

Knaht uoy vac,

In the olden days when sun glimmered across our foreheads in the desert or at home, there was always this moment of peace and joy when we were to be summoned up and have a break. There were different names for this drink- the drink which will have lemon squeezed and crushed sprinkled with a bit of salt or sugar, in ice cold water to be served to us after games of cricket. It was known as “ Shi-Kan-Jaw-ee”….the drink which will remove the wrinkles and dust off our foreheads and supply us with rejuvenated spirit and body. To us, it was what Jam-e-Jamshaed for the Persians!…So many years carried on in this hope and in this form through these lemonade years.

Not just the drink was divine but we also found lot of purpose and joy in utilizing the left overs as well. For instance, the empty shell of lemon was useful in cleaning our teeth, at times mixing it with all the spices, and powder, bandaging it, and then offering it someone else as a drink which they will remember for the rest of our lives and so do we being chased by our elders near and far for spiking their staple lassee or qahwa with that…

At times, the empty shells of lemons were also used up for this game called “ Pitthu Garm”…the dried out, again filled with some other material became our fascination from Pitthu Garm to games like Bandar Killa…

So the lemon and its composition remained our armour and our part of diet for many years where from lentils to rice, from ghosht to vegetables, the company it provided was exemplary and of also great significance. The Citrus years and its impact was great as times all the bitterness was sweetened of this deadly cocktail of shakanjawee and its sister drink called “ doodh soda”….

As years progressed into its formation, we moved away from those lemonade years….only the stark reminders at times of those years and what happened in between…the bitter reality and experiences and its effect…until one day out of now where came the post, in words bonded and sewn off in the same manner as once I had seen the shells long time ago….The Lemonade Blog Award goes to “ The Lemonade Bloggers”…So I suggest we give ourselves this title of “ The Lemonade Bloggers” and create an organization or group of support for anyone who has had any experience bitter and sweet like those lemonade years of being squeezed and sprinkled and of those memories refreshing as that drink…So let me raise a glass to this promise and ode to the “Lemonade Blog Bloggers”…

Have a great day all. I hope I have fulfilled the expectations of charisma and maturity that was expected of me J

Kashkin

(The Lemonade Blogger )