Mountain-Laurel

27 01 2010

Like a mountain laurel…

Like a mountain-laurel
that’s white as the snow
that does not fail to fall
even as spring threatens
its existence
in the warmth of April

Like a mountain-laurel
with captivating beauty
that hypnotizes the bee
that settles on it to suck
the nectar
that it generously offers

Like a mountain-laurel
that dares to look wind
in the eyes so that it can
open up and sway with
the rhythm
that it has come to love

Like a mountain-laurel
that stands tall to give
the young buds news of
the beautiful world they
live in
so they long to grow tall

Like a mountain-laurel
turning to small brown
bags that glide down to
ground to let the buds
be higher,
look down, and love…

This poem was written in the loving memory of Zaheer Asif, my maternal uncle who passed away on April 4th, 2004.

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Listen to my heart…

27 01 2010

This night, this moonlight
Will it ever return?
Stop by and listen to my heart…

The moon-lit nights,
Talks of love…
All lost… wonder where

I hear you calling…
From the far-off shooting stars,
I hear your footsteps in silent nights

The spray in the wind, the dusty clouds
All tell your story.
For you is longing
My youth, wrapped in flames
A smoke of sorts chokes me within,
Stop by and listen to my heart….

This night, this moonlight
Will it ever return?
Stop by and listen to my heart…

The lips of ocean waves tell lost tales
The gardens of hope have turned barren
Where shall I find you now?
I have searched all over…
Don’t know where past times have
All of a sudden vanished
In ruins is my world of desires…
Stop by and listen to my heart…

Stop by and listen to my heart…




I thought that it might be you…

27 01 2010

I thought that it might be you…
I THOUGHT THAT IT MIGHT BE YOU…
There was a knock on the door;
I thought that it might be you.
But I had no clue,
That it was the neighbor’s boy,
With a dish in his hand saying:
‘Happy new year to you’

The phone rang – I jumped from my seat;
I thought that it might be you.
But I was in for a surprise…
It was the telephone company,
Telling me in a melodious voice:
‘Your bill is overdue’

I got a letter in the mail;
I thought that it might be you.
I was mistaken once again,
It was a letter from MIT,
Breaking in the best way they could:

I got a ‘New Mail’ pop-up on MSN;
I thought that it might be you.
O’ what a fool I was,
It was the Hotmail Staff,
Sending me that typical junk-mail note:
‘We have a great summer surprise for you’

The pager beeped in my pocket;
I thought that it might be you.
How lost in your memory I was,
It was A.B.S. Jafri Saab,
Asking me that ‘Monday morning’
‘Where the hell are you>’

Someone called my name in the market;
I thought that it might be you.
It couldn’t have been worse,
It was Azhar Saab,
Telling me (what I already knew),
‘Beta Nadir, physics mein paidal hay tu’

Then someone touched my shoulder;
I thought that it might be you.
But …. AaaAaaaaaaAhhhhhh
WHY? Why didn’t I realize?!!
A stupid pigeon had pooped on me,
And when I looked up, it simply flew!





Thoughts…

27 01 2010

Refreshed and remembered my wounds hurt a lot
And silent I am no more, in pain I cry a lot
Bane of my existence they are but my sorrows have left me not
In life without you I see death, but darling you see it not

Awake in my bed I lie lonely every single summer night
My mind is lost in your memories, though you’re not in my sight
An image of you that I’ve created I see forever nice and bright
Nothing else in life will I strive so much for, struggle though I might

Zealous about your love I once was, dying I am today
Only the heartbeats remain in me and they’re what I obey
Obvious though my direction once was, now I fear going astray
Randomly I poke around, wondering, to find you there must be a way

Crying along these dirt roads, behind me I leave a tearful trail
Hoping one day you will see the difference and on my way you will sail
And in search of my love one day, you will come and lift this veil
Under which you will find my heart and this little love tale

Death shall not then be able to take life away from me
Hardships will be over and over will this struggle be
Raised my head shall remain then for all eternity
Years of wondering, then I’ll know, you too had loved me!





The Oil Spill

27 01 2010

Rain beating rocks
Alligators and the flocks

Blackened like the night
In their death fight

Asking for help
Many cry and yelp

Avoiding the killer
Now few even shiver

Zapped – the heartbeats
Open – pleading beaks

Others shiver n’ kick
Ruined by the slick

Can’t even stand
Holding another’s hand

Alligators and the flocks
Upon blackened rocks

Devil the steel was
How it was the cause

Ruined on the rocks
Yelping, crying flocks





The Suicide Bomber

27 01 2010

Rising early in the morning, he grabs his gun
and heads towards the bunker where his friends are.
Believing, believing more than ever that he is right
in his fight and believing more than ever that he will win.

Around him there is a lifeless silent desert. But the
morning silence is broken soon by roaring jets
and exploding bombs, he must run under the shelter
not to be seen by the enemies of his faith.

Zeroing in on the mountainous terrain the jets return;
only this time they strike with a greater accuracy and
other than him, all are killed, he too is hit, but his wish for
revenge gains strength from the pain of his wounds.

Careful not to make any rapid movements
he hurries back to the look out and sees,
and sees what he believes, what he believes so strongly.
Under the torn rocks he sees camouflaged ‘falsehood’.

Deciding he must do it and bear it no more,
he straps around his waist enough explosives to
rip apart every single man out there in the enemy camp.
Young and strong he gets there in a day…

It is in his brain… the hesitation… the fear… and death
lurking in the desert rocks around him, looking for him…
or maybe it is looking for the others, he thinks
very confident about what he believes, for he believes he’s right.

Eventually he starts moving again, moving towards the human voices…
Yet he thinks not of them as humans and he pulls the string.
One moment and then it is all gone, he dies without pain, for
until his death, he believed, believed so strongly that he was right.





The return of the suicide bomber…

27 01 2010

Rising early in the morning, I grab my gun
and head towards the bunker where my friends are.
Believing, believing more than ever that I am right
in my fight and believing more than ever that I will win.

I remember…
Qaari* had told me to be steadfast
and not to worry, for
those born to the faith
would all go to paradise…

Around me there is a lifeless silent desert. But the
morning silence is broken soon by roaring jets
and exploding bombs, I run under the shelter
not to be seen by the enemies of my faith.

I remember…
The Quran says ‘they will come
from every direction
but don’t worry yourself
He is guarding you…’

Zeroing in on the mountainous terrain the jets return;
only this time they strike with a greater accuracy and
other than me, all are killed, I’m also hit, but my desire for
revenge gains strength from the pain of my wounds.

I remember…
Qari had told me not to forget
that the torment of hell is more
painful
than anything I experience in this life…

Careful not to make any rapid movements, I
hurry back to the lookout and see,
and see what I believe, what I believe so strongly.
Under the torn rocks I see camouflaged falsehood.

I remember…
The Quran says ‘and they
can never be your friends’
I know it to be
the word of Allah…

Deciding I must do it and bear it no more, I set out…
hiding in my jacket enough explosives to
rip apart every single man out there in the enemy camp.
Young and strong I get there in a day…

I remember…
Qari had told me to lay down
my life if the need arises
for the shaheed** is ranked
amongst the angels and the prophets…

It is in my brain… the hesitation… the fear… and death
lurking in the desert rocks around me, looking for me…
or maybe it is looking for the others, I think…
very certain of what I believe, for I believe I am right.

I remember…
The Quran says ‘and you are shown
the right path, by none other
than your Lord.’
I have no reason to worry…

Eventually I start moving again, moving towards the human voices…
Yet I think not of them as humans and I pull the string.
One moment and then it is all gone, I die without pain, for
until my death, I believed, believed so strongly that I was right…

I feel…
My chest is burning
the pain is unbearable
but why am I in pain?
What have I done wrong?

I remember…
The Qari did not know Arabic
yet the Quran spoke to me
in Arabic
but I never knew Arabic either…

I understand…
What I had heard…
had not been said.
What I had done…
had not been asked for.

I remember…
He who shaped my thoughts…
was a flawed man… just a man…
a man like me, only different,
For he did not do, what he asked of me…

I now remember…
The Quran said ‘…and choose for your
brethren, that which you choose
for yourself!’
I regret…

*- ‘Qari’ is a person who gives Islamic teachings at a religious institute, or at a mosque
**- ‘shaheed’ is an Arabic word for martyr