Don’t Give Up

The times when you so want to curl up and cry, to hide somewhere, run away from everyone….

The times when you feel like giving up, like everything is worthless, like nothing is working in the way desired…

The times when the world comes crashing, when the skies fall, when the earth bursts open, when even the closest ones leave your side…

The times when you lose the purpose of living, when nothing makes a sense, when even the next breath is a burden…

Don’t give up! Look up into your eyes, re-ignite that fire, visualize your purpose. There’s an answer to everything…

Being a Girl

I talked of chains
How I felt my wings bound
How it was suffocating
Smothered, numb
They asked, ” Where are the chains
You talk about;
Who binds you, you seem free
The cage is just metamorphic”
I think the words over
Were they right?
Why was it that I felt caged?
What denied my wings flight?
No, the chains couldn’t be seen
They were just words, lingering
A collection of random events
The burden of ‘Izat’
Stereotypes bound me
The rules- how, what, right, wrong
The piercing eyes- disapproving, shaming
The label of being a girl!

He is a Human Too!

tufail-mattoo3

Talking of home, peace
the beauty of my place
the calm,
Paradise

We somehow reach conflict
the tug-of-war
nobody ready to give in
the dilemma of rope!

I narrate how, every year
we lose sons to bullets
how, abruptly
our streets are painted red

How, out of blues
a pellet hits your eye
How, in an instant
the world turns black!

I explain the mass graves
AFSPA, PSA
Tufail, Zahid, Wamiq Farooq
their graves asking for crimes

Fake encounters, promotions
disappearances
Half-widows, orphans, posthumous
Machil!

Crackdowns, rapes, torture
Papa II, Mama II
Bullets, pellets
Teargas shells!

He asks, “Why are you silent
how can you bear someone
barging doors
killing beloved

Why don’t you retaliate
fight back
serve them as deserved
An eye for an eye!

How could talks help
why yearn for justice
why empty handed
missing rifle…

How could you just sit around
mumb over blood bath
does your blood not boil
Are you so weak at heart?”

How could I explain
I have closely seen pain, death
and when I kill
does his family not die like mine?

Delusion of Mind

And all of a sudden I desire
A blade slicing through my wrist
Blood oozing out in busts
Everything painted red

An attempt to clean out all inside
Everything that deserves not to be
One or another trait, unwanted
The tag of unholy

Some memory may get erased
The piercing eyes of world
Loneliness, awkwardness
And forbidding eyes around

The soul may ultimately jolt awake
Dilemma of existence put to end
A vision to follow, go after
A life desired, devoted too!

IF …

Everybody played gleefully
assuming they got all life offers
enjoying as if no tomorrow
or no change would dethrone them.

She stood quiet, aloof in a corner
wondering what life could bring further
what if the ride started descending
would she be patient or scream out?

Pondering over the past gone by
how dreadful it had been
and though the wounds would heal if forgotten
was that really needed?

Does grief not provide wisdom
and increase the patience as needed
Does it not transform you
making you stronger and better today?

But people whined and cried misfortune
how they had been hunted and killed
would they instead not be happy
the level of torture they experienced!

And now as they stood free
would smiles not be better than tears
would planning and working not be better
hands look better working than with wine glasses!