The Dance of Solitude

The solitude and its silence
Stands there, the grand empires
Built from dreams of the past
The old chaos of times
From distant corners,
Come they to examine
To see, how this life, spent
Through opium years to its magic
Hear they not, the deafening soul

The rapturous routines
The old peaceful moments
Built for the dreams of future
From distant corners
Come they to examine
Their own past and the colours
Through the years of violence
Hear they not, the drowning heart

The perpetual existence
In time and its space
In this grand scheme of life
From distant corners,
Travel they far, to examine
Themselves and the light
Through years of creation
To the end of time, hear they not
The Dance of Solitude!



The Human Journey

The mystery of Universe and the journeys taken by humans has had an immense impact upon different civilizations of the time. How humans have traversed from one civilization to another; how languages were developed and their attributes transferred to others. How architecture, culture, and everything that defines the very “fabric of civilization” created the need to survive, to transfer the knowledge and wisdom through the feathers of time. The modern times and era owes everything to the past – the struggles and its determination of those people and the times they lived in. In the course of time, some civilizations were to leave lasting impressions and some momentarily but their intrinsic nature remained to create something through the intellect and the learning endowed upon by them by nature. How history has captured those pages of time and its passages for its very need to determine how we have all evolved as humans in our ways and cultures. In various fields of science and in fields of arts and new technologies owes portion of their success to all that is left behind- some have been preserved by those who realized that very need to remain intact  and some lie there in the wilderness for all of us to learn what mankind achieved and lost.

In the end, each fleeting moment becomes part of history and the times we live in. The search still continues by the mankind- the very search and quest for who we are the very purpose of our existence and life. It is these questions – the very fuel and catalyst that drives us forward and it is that process of living we become part of those different cultures and languages. There may be many civilizations pertinent to different times but human civilization and its journey remains one in search for truth and purpose. The ways we attain those answers may be different and diverse; but the purpose remains the same. It is this journey of mankind through not the landscapes of time and buildings and architecture but through the human need to strive and struggle to find the purpose of life and its meaning.


Around Us (Betrayal of Conscience)

“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!


Quote of the Day

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” .


The Lemonade Blog Award


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


(The Lemonade Blogger )


On Our Politicians

Our politicans have never been sincere to their own people let alone the people of Pakistan. But the problem lies with us for bringing these people into power and to expect that they will honour their words.These incapable bunch of idiots dont see things we do……believe me….politicians dont spend hours in reflection what is happening with Pakistan and its resources, only its us the poor nation. Analyse their 24 routine and one will notice most of the time is taken going from one set of clothes to another, press conferences, rides from one Bentley to another….and we only get 24 hours in a day…