The New Year Night

"The New Year Night"

The year is about to end,

Preparing for the new year night,

All of my friends.

Champagne, Red wine, fire-crackers,

All is ready and the countdown,

Is about to begin. 

While, they pour the Red wine

in the round, long glass

And ask me to, "Come and join...”

I moved my face

With a faint smile. 

As I see the blood of

The young buds in the glass

In the the Red wine. 

When they were reaped,

By the sharpest scythe, 

Trampled in sand by

The fiendish guy. 

 How could I enjoy?

The countdown has just begun, 

The fire-crackers decorate the sky; 

Everyone is dancing, singing and enjoying, 

Energy around is very high.

A hand dragged me at this point, 

"Come its new year night."

A tear fell off my eyes,

"I hear you my young boys; 

My eardrum still vibrates

With your helpless cries,

When you were alone

Among those barbarians, 

Begging for life.

Among the roars of the crowd, 

Counting digits in the middle of the night, 

I hear your shuddering voice

That you called at that time

OH! How can I enjoy? "

When all are shouting of joy

I heed the cacophonies of

The mother crying after her child

"Still you expect me to enjoy? "

"No! My dear child, no, 

I can never enjoy

this New Year night, 

I shall remember that you..

You laid down your life

For the nation as a sacrifice.

I won't celebrate this

New year night."

To the rest, 

"A very Happy New Year 

from my side."

Paradox of Management

"Paradox of Management"

Walking through the hallways of history, the magnificent walls seemed to be narrating the stories of its greatness. Along a gentleman, I foot in the door, I was welcomed with a gush of gashing words; I swallowed them. Later on, the rain of humiliation started, I rescued myself with an umbrella of the membrane of an open heart. Then, I was panned to the limit that I ran out and spent some moments of realization of the intensity of the matter and the reaction to it. I stepped in again, bewildered and feeling as if I was breathing in a world unreal or of the world of witch of agnesi, but I was living in a world of humans of a different kind that I never experienced. So, I took the challenge.

Now, maybe the person guessed the storms of confusion in my head. Which is why, a sermon was delivered to me. "Alright, that's fine," I said to myself and tried to stretch the strings of patience to the last limit I knew. Though, after a crisp of time I felt breathless and my heart pounding, yelling and screaming for a way out; I slightly tried to show. Thus, I was told that it was just a reaction of a depression that someone had and the flu was cleaned over me! “Oh what”, I asked myself and tried to make the situation understandable for me, “the depression and the reaction over me?" I couldn't believe the time I was living in. Consequently, I asked God for mercy. 

Afterwards, I was tested and evaluated, jumbled up in my own words; ENGAGED for the reasons I didn't know. Even the two gentlemen sitting by the side got confused and exchanged smiles. After watching them grim over me, I wanted to bang my head over the desk in front or run out and never come back.

In the end I was told, “It was all 'The Paradox of Management' ", I looked up, "Oh Lord! You must be kidding me, I asked for mercy! Is that so....?" Flowing in the river of paradox of management, I was chanting the chores of my burial in the graveyard of insult; I had never imagined before those gentlemen that I used to call my seniors and the man I never knew.

Now, the tone was apologetic and friendly but I didn't need it, at this point; it was of no use. "To bring the best out of you, you should be treated with worst, to bring the finest of you; you should tolerate the ebb of dis." Those were the conclusive words I heard. I walked out with the theory of "Paradox of Management", being experimented upon. "I shall never forget this 'Paradox of Management'", I told myself as I walked back in the same hallways I came through, yet the stories were different that I heard from the walls this time.

 Before, I strode the last stair; I looked back and said, "No! This time, you used this 'Paradox of Management', theory over the wrong person at the wrong time; your management of your paradox was wrong. Not all are the same and not all theories turn up to become laws." I walked out with an experience I shall remember.

The reason, for which I was put into the situation, was never actually fulfilled and it never worked; though, I still ask myself of, "Why did I go through all that when it never had to happen?” Everything was out of my mind and my head kept asking questions like, “Do they put everyone in the same situation without even thinking about the results? No…, maybe I’m too sensitive for all this. Well, I don’t know.” I kept talking about whatever just happened to my own self. With the questions in my head, I walked towards my car and was taken away from the place towards my home with my head filled with many mysterious things; I still try to figure out.

Hawk

" Hawk"

                                       

Your eyes that stalk,

Your tongues which talk,

I can see,

I can hear,

While I walk.

Hey listen! 

"I'm the Hawk,

How can you forget?

That you were called,

The same, just recall

The history, the charm

Of the religion

that sprung,

Long ago,

You're the descendents

Of the same clot."

"But you forgot,

You only stalk,

What you do is talk,

To catch the passing flock,

OH No! I'm the Hawk

You can't ever flog!"

What Should I Write?

"What should I write? "

                                 

I picked up a pen lying at the edge of the table with it's ink spilt over the table and the cover rolled away. I glanced at it for a moment and then started writing, words were flowing in the flood of my mind and ideas were rushing. I chose an idea but I was hesitant to write about it, so I put the pen down. Meanwhile,sun through the windows touched my ears, entered my heart and enlightened my mind. I gave a look back to the sun and smiled, I picked the pen again. I started writing, I kept on writing; I felt as if it was only me, my pen and my mind around the world alone. Words were jumping in my head and I was throwing them on the paper. After writing for a few minutes, I sat back and took a deep breath. I looked at the sun again, it wasn't there, the gray clouds had covered up. I assumed that a storm was coming so I stood up and reached the windows of my room, which showed a bird on the tree covering her hatch-lings with her wings. I closed the windows and went back to the desk, I realized, whatever I wrote has vanished; my mind frozen and my words blocked. I threw the pen away and scrapped the paper in my fists, I asked my mind, "What should I write? "

Diddle

"Diddle"

I encounter no tree

Without wood,

never I espied

a flower without petals.

"Did you ever witnessed

sun, sans a ray?"

I discern of what you'll say,

retort me with, "Nay!"

"Withal, what fashion you

have made over me?"

"Can a heart beat,

unless it caress feel?"

"No!, then why thee bequeath,

this juvenile only besiege,

by dolor and anguish?"

As no birdie can flee,

unless comes the breeze,

she then, unfurl her wings,

takes off with a cheerful shriek.

"So, why did thou leave,

when embraced have ye,

all these realities?
You can't diddle me!"

Shoes

"Shoes"

You ask me to put myself into her shoes and think of what she has done is how to be done? Feel like how she felt and whatever she did was the way it should be done. 
You complain and tell me to put myself into your shoes and feel of how it feels to be into your shoes because when I put myself into hers I can feel her, then you say to feel like you too and want me to proclaim that, "Oh whatever you did was right too and you're genuine about feeling glumly of what she has done."
Okay, alright, I do that. Nevertheless, I feel of how you both would feel into each of your shoe pair. But did you ever think of how do I feel? Who would put themselves into my shoes? Who would feel like I do? Who would know of what I know?
Your love, your ignorance, your comments about me, who would know of what it means to me and how do I feel about them? My sorrows, my heavy heart, my tears on cheeks and my immeasurable love for thee, did you ever think of all these?
No, you did not. I felt like both of you and took the pain even. Now you are into each other and I alone with my shoes with no one to put themselves into the shoes I walk in. I'm alone with the shoes. Yes I am alone now with my shoes walking in the cold hail.

They do it because they do it

    

"They do it because they do it"

    


They'll never understand their worth in our hearts because they know of how worthy they are to us. Which is why, they'll keep on doing it to us, they'll keep on exploiting us because someone else is exploiting them. They rightly know all the feelings that we feel because of their ignorance and all the thorny aches because of their quietness, as they are dying for someone else just as we are for them. Though, they keep on doing it to us because the other is doing it to them. On the contrary, they'd never feel to not to do us the same that someone else is doing to them because believe it or not we are not as important as the other is. Therefore, they exploit us just because the other is exploiting them. Rather, you must be happy for one reason that is, they are in the same pain as you are, though, the bad thing about it is, they are not feeling the pain for you and not dying for you but for someone else. 

You'll never understand....

The winter Coffee

" The Winter Coffee"

A cup of hot coffee,
in rainy, stormy winter.
The ardent smoke of the cup,
the toasted air through the mouth,
the tip-tap-tip of a rain drop,
reminds me of our laughter and crack-ups.

I still get those hallucinations,
of our tapping feet in rainy water.
With every sip of the coffee,
I take in, arouses all of our reminiscences.
These showers says to me,
"Now you listen to my aria alone."

I took a few steps in,
trying to absorb those memories,
every single drop whispered in my ear,
"How can you forget your friendship.?"

A Toy

    " A Toy"

Yeah, they call you a friend but then they love to insult you before the masses, because you seem to be a toy to them, to play with. They love it while others laugh upon you and make fun of you, they love it while others scorn you and scoff you or bring tears to you because you are a toy. They love you no doubt because you're a toy and everyone loves their toys. They play with the toy like putting it close to their hearts when they like but after mood swings kicking it out when they're done up. On the contrary, just to keep you intact with them they call you a friend and you believe them because you truly love them. For them you're a toy and they love toys to stay with them so that they can continue to play with them.

The Emerald

"The Emerald"

The emerald,

green in color,

silver in luster,

blackens at edges,

whitens when brandished.

Simple lines of alchemy,

on the emerald tablet,

no one can quest

the complications in it.

Emerald, I have it!

Splendid; my heaven,

how prepossessing!

Cactus

"Cactus "

Those harsh facts

That you need to accept.

Never go weak

Have the strength

Of a cactus,

In a desert.

Who Fights the thirsts,

The howling winds,

Yet always green,

With fleshy leaves.

All you need is

a little courage

so the thorns grow deep

in the bosom you keep.

Like the cactus with deep thorns 
And the courageous leaves
That never bleed
 As it has the thorns of its own to feel.

My Fantasy

''My Fantasy''

My fantasy is,

You can't guess,

Different than every lass;

Not a Cinderella dress,

Neither to be a princess

Of The Buckingham palaces,

Nor that prince charming

Riding on a white horse.

Though a very sweet wish,

May God please accept this,

All I want is...

A Prado Land Cruiser,

Black in color.

Not in forties

But in twenties,

right at the student ages.

Me in the front seat

driving with zeal.

Prado on my wrist,

Ray Ban on my eyes,

Gucci be my coat,

The same brand heels.

Take a sharp corner Just like Daniel Craig.

Come out, remove goggles and walk,

like the Hollywood celebrities.

Ah!! That's what it is....

All my fantasies,

A Prado Land Cruiser

Black in color,

In student life,

Not when I'm older.

Oh, no, no it doesn't end here.

There's more that I want

When I'm older.

A limousine, that's all.

Not much Oh Lord.

Please accept this,

Hope you don't reject it.

Will always be grateful

Though, I'm still waiting.

One

ONE

When I read Quran,

I learn to be Musalman.

When I follow Hadith,

I find peace.

When I search Sunnah,

I see no Firqah.

We are the creatures of one Allah,

then whose Sunni whose Shia?

Let's be the Momineen,

stop being Kafireen.

We spread smiles,

stop people cry.

You don't shoot me,

for I'm Sunni.

I don't kill shia,

for you another Firqah.

ONE RASUL ONE ALLAH

NO SUNi NO SHIA!

Title less

"Title less" 

The tears fall on my soul

And they burn it all. 

The cries hit my heart 

And they lit it hard. 

What do I do, 

O my Lord? 

Help me through it, 

This is so absurd.

Will we always burn like that 

And you be quite? 

All I want O God, 

Is a simple answer that's all!

You don't remember

"You Don't Remember"

The sound of a dry leaf,

Trampled as lying on earth.

The shrieks groaned by the helpless life.

"You don't listen to the jibe,

It comes once a year;

The spring of my life.

No one to share,

All this glitter with,

I look up to you,

O sun! don't gear.

But you gear,

You don't remember.

It was my day,

You forgot as always.

Hence, the spring shed off,

Never you recalled,

Never did you biaural."

The leaf groaned,

"You don't remember

For when was I born?"