Archive for June, 2015

Her body trembled with the cold she felt,
Trying to get away from his grip,
She tripped and fell,blood started to drip,
From her lips,down her neck,
And she listened to her heart break,
People saw her with pity,but no one  helped,
She remembered the old times as she yelped,
She was in her bed again,reading those fairy tales,
Where the prince was  a nice guy in white, and she in a veil,
She opened at her eyes and looked at the devil,
Who was beating her to to death and just for fun
She wished she had realized earlier,
That what it seems,is not what it always is,
That this man didn’t love her,
And never will. She was a piece of meat for him to use
Her heart broke with that realization,
She took her last breath,searching for an idealization.

Rizwana Adhi For Beyond Sanity Publishing

Art By Cidrah Usmani


Art By Cidrah Usmani

My eyes have adjusted to the darkness of the deserted street. I feel chills run down my spine with each step I take. All of my senses are heightened. I hear an ear-splitting scream. My heart pounds ferociously as I move towards the source. It sounded as if someone was being tortured. I feel myself getting really close to it. I hear a soft striking sound before everything vanishes.
“Amal, honey wake up. You’re getting late for school.” I heard my mom say.
“I’m up.” I told her.
A dream. Just a dream I thought to myself. My heart was still beating really fast. Being grateful for it to be over I get out of my bed. School. It was gonna be a long day. I felt something soft touch my feet. I looked down. Patches, my cat, purring loudly.
“Hey girl”, I scratched her ear before heading to the bathroom.
After washing my face and brushing my teeth, I changed into my school uniform and tied my long, black hair into a messy bun. Grabbing my bag and hiding my iPod in it, I went downstairs. We weren’t not allowed to bring any kind of gadget to school. But rules are made to be broken, right?
Landing on the last stair, I looked up to find my brother, Hassan and sister, Adan eating their breakfast. Dad was already off to work. Mom was making sure no bit of food is left in anyone’s plate. Wasting of food was not allowed in our house.
I was the eldest of the three, which pretty much sucked. Being the eldest, I was held responsible for everything my younger siblings did do and everything they didn’t do. We had our breakfast. Mom drove us to school. I saw my friends waiting for me. Waving mom goodbye, I went towards them. We group hugged a little longer than usual because we were seeing each other after three months. The bell rang. We were going to have fun since it was the first day of a new year at our all-girls school. We entered the classroom together. I saw many new faces. We got seated at the back of the room and started talking about the new girls.
I didn’t like many of them at the first glance. I don’t like changes much. It takes some time for me to get used to them. Aqsa, my friend, a skinny girl with long dark brown hair, put her hand on the chair in front of her with a thud. The girl sitting on it gave us an ice cold look and said, “Get your hand off my chair.” And went back to talking to a girl. Aqsa stared at her for a second and then looked at us and we all started laughing. Then the teacher entered and the new girls introduced themselves. The teacher told us to take out our books.
After what seemed like years I whispered to my friends, “It’s just the first class and I am already bored as heck.”
I’m the mastermind of everything evil that we do. I came up with an idea to kill boredom. We made notes saying, “You will die in 7 days.”,”You’re in bad luck today” or “I’m behind you” and many more and threw them at random people whenever the teacher turned her back on us. One of the notes went in the bag of that rude girl in front of us. We were laughing quietly, anxiously waiting for her to read it. The bell rang and she started putting her belongings back in her bag. Seeing the note, she picked it up and started reading. Her expression was priceless. She actually got scared. We tried our best not to laugh but failed. She looked at us and we pretended to be laughing at something else. The bell ran again and we said “Thank God” loud enough for the people around us to hear it. The first day was pretty dull but we lived through it.
I got home at around 3 ‘o clock. Literally throwing my bag at the corner of the room, I went down to raid the fridge. Yeah, I’m a foodie. Mom asked me about my day and I asked about hers while we had lunch. Hassan and Adan were upstairs taking a nap. I spent the rest of the afternoon reading ‘A Thousand Splendid Suns’. As the evening set, I went out to play badminton with Haania. She’s been my neighbor and best friend since as long as I can remember.
“How was school?” I asked, picking up my racket.
“You have no idea. We have this really weird teacher who related bonding to Indian movies”, Haania laughed.
“I would have paid to see that!” I joined in on her laughter.
We played our usual casual game of badminton. We would always play in the evening and talk about things ranging from our day at school to preferences in socks. It was getting dark so we stopped.
“See ya tomorrow.” I said to her and went in.
Dad was home. We ate dinner and he told us about a new contract he had gotten and that we were gonna celebrate it by going to our favorite restaurant on the coming weekend. After having eaten God knows how much mac and cheese I couldn’t move an inch. I felt very tired. It really was a long day as I’d expected and I wanted nothing more than to sink into my soft warm bed.
“I’m so tired I might sleep for ages.” I told my mom as we did the dishes. And so I did until I found myself walking down that dark street again……
Saja Ali and Zoha Hidayat For Beyond Sanity Publishing
See it here: Wattpad Link

I’m very Happy and Honored to announce that the third installment of the Poetry Anthology Series, ‪‎Mirrored Voices:

Mirrored Voices: Best Contemporary Poets


‬ is Published! It has writers and Poets featured from around the globe.
I am lucky and honored to be in it as well.
I have 4 books on my credit now. Congratulations to all the authors who are featured in this literary history making event.

This combined poetic anthology embraces free thinking of the untapped mind and spirit. The vast array of best contemporary poets from around the globe share their voices together in harmony. Various styles and thoughts flourish amongst the pages, bringing emotions to life and creating beauty from nothingness. The writers included in this collection have been selectively chosen to represent the best modern talent of the age. The list of extraordinary poets featured within include such great talent as:

Paul Morabito, Aric Cushing, Jason P. Hein, Laura Madeline Wiseman, Regina Puckett, Laura Crean, R.M Romarney, Clarissa Simmens, Mark Green, Irum Zahra, Laura A. Lord, Regis McCafferty, Roberto Carlos Martinez, Linda Dobinson, Robert G. Brown, Carolyn O’Connell, Sherry Rentschler, Ben Ditmars, Christopher Meesto Erato, Jill Roberts, Dr. Leesa Abbott, Nichia Morales, Andrea McKenzie Raine, Koyel Mitra, Helle Gade, Terri Cannon, Jerome Michael Bailey, Harika Kottakota, Hafsa Idrees and Kristy Rulebreaker.

Here is the Amazon Link:

We rode through the night bedecked by bliss of Boulevard and his mighty friend that’s attached to it immensely; The Dal Lake. She leaned on my back, clutching my torso, totally against the customs. We were the two outcasts, so magnetism bound us together; opposites attract. I set my bike parallel to the asphalt & the quiet one was unraveling her mind & my patience. I though have grown accustomed to the contemporary & have been known to accept it but she was a hard nut to crack. Anyhow, the bike was prompting, with all my frequent involuntary & reflexive breaking. She knew my ways & I knew her. She’d be quiet outside but inside “It is the clamors of sea, and rattling thunders.” as I recall her saying this to me once. She said if I was not strong enough to thrive into that storm, I better by a Nautilus. Now that I’m, she wasn’t ready to come but then she couldn’t resist my absence, so she gave in. To be honest, that rarely happens, I was just cherishing it altogether. I drove until the lights were more like phosphates & people were an unreal fantasy which potentially had not to exist there, it was my night out. At length, I found a platform etched above the lake. I found repose & that was my only appetite. I parked the vehicle and let the headlight open that’d reach across through us. I held her hand & walked to the ramp. She drew me close & put her arm through mine. “Step along my sun.” I said, metamorphosing her. My excitement was too much to explain, If I was burst that moment I’d be a rival of Big Bang. We sat down, crossing our legs. The water stood still & the eventual gusts would make us chilly, we embraced each other, as though world was conspiring. We looked into each other, smiling. Good heavens! I smiled like a clown. “So, why are we here? Night is my thing though, thank you.” she said gazing into the stars, wondering. “Farnoosh. You know it all too well, I’ve expressed my sublime love to you a thousand times over & you’ve been setting me up by staring & would nod away. You never say anything back, all you do is stare into my pupils. Four years back we met, two years back I was madly in love with you, in fact am. You’ve been through so much, we both have actually but we need to move up against the time & tide. Today you’ve to speak for me, for us, for our parents that are no more but would have wanted same for our sake.” I broke the silence of her clamors, her eyes were moist. I just stepped on a time bomb and this night was about to screw my future rationally. “Ishan, I’m not what I was two years back, after whatever happened I still have not been able to forget their passage. That wasn’t supposed to happen, that wasn’t…” she broke into tears & I couldn’t help mine from flowing, we just collapsed our shared strength to our stark past which was & remains to be drought & famine only. She stood up & climbed aboard & didn’t say anything. It was evident what she wanted; time. I had no time alas. I dived into the lake, not knowing if it was shallow. I heard her utter a cry, I heard faint protesting. I didn’t know how to swim. I managed to surface, from blurs to sharp edges, from cries to clear sentences. “Hush! I want to keep it real fast, it’s freezing. Two questions: Do you love me?” I asked, catching my breath. I could hardly breathe, the water was starting to numb me. “Yes you dumb-headed fool! I Do, come on it’s not heroic!” she said sobbing and laughing simultaneously. “Would you marry me for all the right reasons?” I asked almost drowning. “Okay yes, now come on up, please.” She was getting serious, it was the right time to strike again. “I don’t know what okay yes is, say yes I’d marry you!” I pressed. “Yes I’ll marry you, damn I’ll. Now let me help you up.” I reached for her hand & climbed up. Not letting her talk I jammed her lips upfront before I be a victim of her tantrums, anyhow perhaps the storm was placid. It breached through our eyes.

Ubair Fayaz Fazili for Beyond Sanity Publishing

A 30 days summer’s life,

With 12 hours each

And of those chosen was 14th of six hour,

Just before my half,

Unexpected and unwanted

With the first,second,third and fourth days innocence and purity,

Giggles,laughters and dreams in eyes

A step was takenAnd then the journey began,

With earth of brightness,and sky of promises,

And the time passed,

But the things changed

Cracks in brightening earth,

And thunderstorms in sky of promises,

Unveiled and realized

Passed and accepted,

That life is not always peachy,

And FRIDAYS are not always having lullabies,

Years have been spent and happy for that,

But some journeys keep on going

With the hope of snowfall on summer days

Breaking the coldness that summer gave to ones heart

Still with dreams but now followed by shadows,

And eyes with glares of aches and still hopes,

Now the remaining are 14 days left of my life,

with the fifteenth,sixteenth days love and wait

False truths and true lies,

miseries and cries,

Highs and lows,

Realities and lessons

Falling apart to standing high

sensitivities to insanities

Feeling to much to feeling nothing

From flying in skies to the graveyard of hearts,

From being quiet to being silent,

From enduring to writing,

From living the life to living the existence,

Those 14 were on me

But these 14 are having you,

rooted with first,second,third,fourth days

And With the fifteenth and sixteenth too,

A little too much than my half,

Just before my half,

You see,

You in me a much more than my half !!

Mehreen Malik For Beyond Sanity Publishing

It was Monday night, nobody was home save me. I was in my pathetic attempts to shoo sleep away, with two coffee cups down. I was rendered to a state of impatience by the dwindling waters inside me. The room was pitch-dark, the lights out time was overdue. In the mean time, a faint light flickered across the street. My heart-beat in intervals, savoring deep breaths; then it would pound at once. I deserted my bed to initiate lock down- that’s what I thought. I went down. I felt like a spy who had demeanor of stealth mode. The perimeter was secure, alpha found no unwanted breach. Things were convincingly abreast. I paved my way to the entrance and with hitches in clamors, I opened the door. Duh! To my utter surprise, the street lamp was under the siege of an Asthma. As a neighbor I had deepest sympathies, so I cried out to it, “Call 911”. I didn’t actually but what was uncanny that a seven-year old (as I concluded by the fade-in-fade-out concentration), shackled by sheer blank and palpitating orange light, sat beneath it. She was dusky, I’m not discriminating but I could make out just that much. The night of greater good was here. I started walking towards her, my curiosity on steroids & some prospects unanswered on my buzzing phone but Mr. Philanthropist took my demon once, so I kept going. She was petrified by the unwanted guest I suppose. I was four paces away when she saw me, when I closed in to two she was about to tiptoe to her safe house. I sat down two paces away, crossing my legs. “It’s okay, hey? don’t be alarmed. I won’t harm.” I said lifting my hands up. She was still fretting. I didn’t mean to scare her though. Wary of my approach, I smiled to her to resume her peace. I noticed her further, she was fragile and held a tattered notebook in her hand, I even noticed a small bag protruding towards light. Her clothes were withered by over abundant use and were translucent and anytime soon transparent. She made a gesture and I stood blank, seemed like waving. I waved back-unsure. She seemed disappointed, she tried again. I realized she was talking through actions and words were trapped on the back of the tongue. She was impaired to speech and it came resounding that she was sound-oblivious as well. Our prospects went contrary and we spontaneously stood up. I made it to her, knowing that the time struck us a farewell. I in my lame gestures told her to wait while I come back from my house. She nodded. I was fast, I reached for some chocolates and in the storage I found books that’d came handy to her and to me, that time. I hurried back to her and presented both the things to her. It was strange but practically heartwarming, she refused chocolates & took the books instead and melted into the insightful dark. At the moment the asthma purged the street lamp lifeless, I laughed and went back inside.


Ubair Fayaz Fazili For Beyond Sanity Publishing

Call me a tyrant or inhumane,
Or cast my soul to the blaze,
If I am to ask a question,
Or am to doubt the ways

Curse me a wretched life,
Or cast my life to the blaze,
If I am to seek the truth,
Or am to doubt that says

But first, call me curious,
Call me a soul with fear,

For, It was the same that gave,
Muhammad the strength to hear

Hear in the cave of Hira,
The sudden voice of Gabriel,
That sent Him to run in doubt,
To ask, “Is it real?”

We grow to never question,
To never doubt its need ,
Not faith can I call it,
But, a hollow creed

The bearded folks of present,
Curse at a hand when raised,
Or cast to the fiery blaze,
When questions are braised

And we, like rusted dust,
Mix in the winds that lie,
With hollow creeds and sins,
We never ask “but why?”

Call me a tyrant or inhumane,
Or cast my soul to the blaze,
If I am to ask a question,
Or am to doubt the ways

Curse me a wretched life,
Or cast my life to the blaze,
If I am to seek the truth,
Or am to doubt that says

Sohaib Arshad For Beyond Sanity Publishing