I have seen,
The nights being showered with the scent -
Of when the lady-of-the-night blooms,
And when the desires become fragrant,
Under indigo skies and salmon clouds -
And in azure eventides...
Pressed summer damask roses,
In the notebooks of the wishful thinkers...
I have felt
Summers' winds blazing away -
The eye sockets of elderly souls...
I have seen,
The lush energy of rippling of -
The very first ripe strawberry...
And strawberry geranium hiding -
The patches of soil in the backyard...
I have seen,
The emptiness and sunshine -
My guests - on the same day...
Aircrafts spewing hazy stallions-shaped clouds,
In the month of March...
And thorny bushes bruising the bosoms -
Of freshly arrived lovebirds...
And paintings of dreamt up fantasies...
I have seen,
People searching for truth, innocence -
And even God - in mortals...
I have seen and wondered,
And wondered some more...
On ivory sand deserted beaches,
In the violet-coloured Mornings...
And while treading carelessly -
Over the scattered daisies...
And yes, I have seen,
Withered daisies, barren lands...
And people watering them -
With tears...
I have seen,
People ageing in moments,
First, soulless manikins,
And then forehead wrinkles, hollow bones,
And twitching eyelids till the end...
I have felt,
The crimson-yellow feeling -
Of deaths of humans...
And of missing the better days -
In the best days...
I think, I have seen -
You in my dreams...

It’s funny, when life happens to anyone, none can define. It’s neither like one’s ennui in barbershop nor like one’s fright while roaming with a fiend in an unknown market.

It’s funny to see the sunshine and the rain – at the same time and to be hopeless and the luckiest at the same time. Even nature makes fun of you.

It’s funny you have something, but you’re not supposed to own it. It’s like the feelings of a kid in a bakery, gazing savory pastries with sheer craving. I don’t know how but I find it funny.

It’s funny when you find your flair, none’s there to appreciate. When you master the art of crying on walls and pillows, they offer shoulders. When you are (happily) numb, someone actually starts loving you. It’s just funny.

It’s funny, when the only thing you are supposed to trust – brainpan doesn’t respond to the fixes you’re in – at times.

It’s funny when you’re the brightest yet the dingiest gem.

It’s funny when you care (give a damn)… Yes it is amusing!

It’s funnier when you get used to this fickleness of life’s persistency.



And eventually you start learning breaking away every twist and turn – malevolently adorned – of the pathway – that is supposed to lead you towards the terminus. It serves you its swinging random lanes for the repast in a crooked fashion – to scare you. But you hate not it anymore. Life… Is a fickle persistence and we are the meek grace. It dances in its ways in its folly like a kite up above the sky. It is just funny when you exist only – to follow the rites and go with the flow to curb yourself away from the taboo term called ‘rebel’.

Funny when you wage a war against nothingness and eventually you lose.

And

It was the last day of the perch. It’s time to fly again. I just hope the new sun brings smiles and happiness anew. I have been told that I am bright, brighter than the sun.
So, I must fight every eclipse I face, and regain the light.
Because I have ‘something’ worth fighting for. I am indeed the luckiest boy on this planet I believe. And hopelessness, I will conquer! God will help.
And as Emily Dickinson would put in,

"Hope" is the thing with feathers—
That perches in the soul—
And sings the tune without the words—
And never stops—at all—

And sweetest—in the Gale—is heard—
And sore must be the storm—
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm—

I've heard it in the chillest land—
And on the strangest Sea—
Yet, never, in Extremity,
It asked a crumb—of Me.



If hope is the thing with feathers... Then hopelessness should be unfeathered.

=)

By Bahadur Hussain
Published in Us, The News International.

For thee I shall pen a poem
With no Shakespearian words
Nor like any glistering quotation
Nor like the antique birthday song

But like a tittering toil by a cunning heart,
Of - they hath not heard
Long...I waited for thy day to sun
Before time flies with the wafting leaves-

I shall, inflame the candles with sun
Dress the ballooning flossy clouds
Write thy name on the glowing moon
Sprinkle the fairy dust, white the gloom

To enfold it in beguiling glossy sheets
I shall steal it from its earth
Shall I fill these airs with flowers,
Ah, 'tis thy birthday my love!

I am a bird hailing from thy window
With a gleeful poem written in secluded heart
With a glinting moon held in yellow beak
With a gleaming twinkle of love in adust eyes

O lady! Thou canst take the moon,
Only if - Thou dost take me thy lad,
For the sake of my sleepless nights
For the pains I took in toils...
http://thenews.com.pk/newsmag/mag/detail_article.asp?id=762&magId=9

For a very, very, very special friend *heart* (not girlfriend =p)

Aren’t you so fancy
To think of this little game?
Here, I’ll humor you

Dad's:

My dad's haiku was really fun, We were litterally rolling on floor laughing out loud, These deeds of love mean a lot to me :D How can I ever thank/repay you guys for making this day so special for me! specially my dad, I Love my dad more than any thing!! *heart*

And since it was my birthday... So I penned a quick written kind of poem last night as well...

.

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Year Fall- Saal Gira