Category Archives: poetry

Iqbal- Dream of an Eagle

The days we have marked for celebrations,
The rest in forgetfulness, we don’t explore
The splendour of Universe as it bestowed
The famous gift of language and rhythm Continue reading


Filed under Pakistan, Philosophy, poetry, Politics

The Impact

As the mind embraces itself
In those old avenues of music,
As the old expressions alight
The moments of separation Continue reading

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Poem:The Hungry Face

” This poem was written to highlight the plight of children, far removed from education and comforts of home and confined to dreaded routines of existence” –

The Daughter of Pakistan, in search for bread and water…….the quest continues and so her questions….

As she rests her soul against the pole
The blistered feet and in tattered clothes
The only place, where she can breathe
The open fields and the crowded streets
In search for bread and water Continue reading


Filed under Children, Education, Labour, Pakistan, poetry, poverty, psychology, Rights

Routines of Conscience

Routines of Conscience

Carries this man with himself different books
In moments of reflection and ponder
Through moments of protest and anguish
In times of trance and its great elation
The past in his hands and mind affixed,
At times, the words float through the space
At times, the words reside in heavy heart
See him I at different places, in different zones
In different disguises, from one to another
The constant struggles, the constant battles
As the situation demands, as the moments seize
This old heart and soul, this old conscience

See him often in conversations in diversity
bounded in duty and honour and its desires
For his country and for its people, occupied
In moments of madness and despair
As the cry for change  drips into the molten passions
Recites he poems, in travels through its distance
Strange but common and simple are the goals
often we talk in different streams and domains
within its reach,  the books of poems and revolutions
let go all thy pain! Peace and tranquillity will arrive

My children and theirs will one day witness
All what I have done and all what we saved
Through these days of the darkness to the oceans
Of light and the palaces of peace and comfort
See him often at places of familiarity and warmth
Through strange patterns of youth and wisdom
As the wind blows it’s echoes from the places afar
Hear I this man, from distance,  far and  near
To work and to rest, only the divides that remain
The maddening hours and its routines in rotation

Conquer we will all, as the moments arrive
The choices of destiny and the options to deliver
As the earth finds herself in blushing disguise
The passage of time, and it’s chimes begin
The story of man and the books he travels with
From words of poetry to the language of rivers
Hear him often at places we know, from times
Built from familiarity and warmth of the past
To carry out routines of conscience and promise!


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Filed under Pakistan, Philosophy, poetry, Politics

What lies in yesterday?

What lies in yesterday?
Only the dust and its fumes
Ignore and move on
To paths new and not trodden

What lies in yesterday?
Only heartache and dreams
Forget, and move on,
To the oceans new and its trance

What lies in yesterday?
The old music and rhymes
Of the old days and nights
The desert and its moonlit skies

What lies in yesterday?
The old note books and poems
Remember and move on
With your past and what lies ahead

What lies in yesterday?
The old childhood and places
The old dreams and birth of life
Travel through it like an adventure

What lies in yesterday?
Only the dust and its fumes
The old existence of mine
The old mirrors and its reflections!


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Poem: 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!



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Poem: Walking With Wordsworth

The lands we have traversed
Different and diverse,
Strange and beautiful, in arrival
The long walks and drama
Lend me your ears, lend me your heart
As the words cry out
From the poet’s heart and its echoes

I am not off from this land,
Strange lands I have traversed
But here I walk with you briefly
Beside those rivers and landscape
Where words, born and decimated
The old hearts and moments of inspiration
In your thoughts and rhymes
Somewhere else, strange n fine
And here, walk I with you briefly

Outside your cottage, as I abide by the lakes
Through those distant woods,
As I walked through the countryside,
The old books and shots of language
Forgetful and distant, as time flies away
Walk I with you briefly, for a while
Not from this land, only the words I recognise
From a distant time, as desert sweeps its storms
From dusk till dawn, arrives from these old cities
These caravans of words, and its infusion
In display, the tales of distance and echoes!


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