The sun dips below the horizon
And silhouette lays foundation of dark
Out come the beasts of night
Allied with demons causing plight
The silent river embraces the moon
And stars take cover of clouds
Petrified air accompany the leaves
Fall a prey the creation to sleep
Muddled spinning shadow of her was seen
Lamenting in the district with the beasts.
Marva Sohail For Beyond Sanity Publishing
Image by: Cidrah Mansoor Usmani
The heartbeats are silent.
Now they don’t speak.
As they once did.
And I feel mine’ll stop dead.
I fear this might be the final farewell.
I see through your eyes
Those conquests of the past,
Those laughters shared,
Those tears we once shed
I fear this might be the final farewell.
We stand still as a world comes to end.
And the world stands still as you nod your head.
I feel like dying, as the distance grows.
Too dead to say, “I love your nose.”
I fear this might be the final farewell.
But now, words don’t have significance.
And neither do any gestures.
I’ve lost all meaningfulness,
And so has your existence.
I fear this might be the final farewell.
Your eyes are giving away your secrets.
Contain them; your tears, your murmurs.
Keep your affection safe in your eyes
And keep me in your heart, forever by your side.
I fear this might be the final farewell.
Let me sink into your eyes
Let me drown in your smile
Let me feel your words
Let me stay right here
I fear this might be the final farewell.
Just give me a sign, a whistle.
Tell me your worries.
I swear I’ll be there to listen
Once more, I will be there to fix em.
I fear this might be the final farewell.
I know I’ll miss the way you talked,
I’ll miss those jokes that we laughed on.
I guess mostly, I’ll miss today.
But, I need courage, “goodbye!”, to say.
I fear this might be the final farewell.
Poem by Sarmed Wasim For Beyond Sanity Publishing
Come honey,
There is no good going to happen alone.
Together, we can live the disaster.
Alone its going to be a dreadful trauma.
Come love.
There is no light in these dungeons,
Together we can walk with our eyes closed.
Alone I stumble over my fears now and then.
Come sweetheart.
There is no sleep and no peace.
Together we can keep awake all night.
Alone my soul is paralyzed.
Or maybe you can stay where you are.
Whilst I dread about the omens.
And with the illusions and imagination
Or maybe you can let the potion of hate drowning my body.
Or you can live happily with joy and euphoria.
But there is no living here with me .
I mean you took away my life .
So you can come back my love and enjoy the frames of my miseries
Or you can put the rose at the tombstone and laugh away the pain.!
Areesh Fatmee For Beyond Sanity Publishing
The hot cappuccino mug in my hands
I idly raise the volume of Bach tune
There’s a tattered old diary full of letters
And I move my fingers feeling the words
I can hear your soft voice in my ears…
There is agony and protest and I gasp
The parchments close to my face
I can feel you beside me or is it the white musk?
And somewhere in the background I hear the clouds thunder
And my fingers burned by the cappuccino
And my heart washed away by the steam
But there is still something I am missing
As I look deeper into the thin slanting handwriting
I can see few words meaning a galaxy to me
But the ink has dried by now and the tears has smeared up them
But honey, before the fragrance dies away
And my soul residing in wisps away
Come back and pour some ink
My soul tremors and my lips tremble
There is too much agony that paralyzes me
Write a good-bye note but come and write
And the hot cappuccino mug in my hands
And I now idly raise the volume of Bach tune
There’s a tattered old diary full of letters
And I move my fingers feeling the words
And your voice fading away.
Areesh Fatmee For Beyond Sanity Publishing
You and me are
linked to each other
in a bond of affinity,
let me tell you
how, once, I was draped
in a raiment of blood
and I had no one to
ask for help,
I simply closed my
eyes and imagined
you, I saw a silhouette
of your body against
me, I raised my bloody
hand towards you
to hold yours and lock
our fingers, I could feel
the sensation of life
alighting on my hands,
flickering a spirit of
life in my bloody chest,
I looked at you, you
smiled and shut your
eyes leaving me
stunned.
Since then, I’m
living you!
Fizza Abbas For Beyond Sanity Publishing
“I’ve learned that regardless of your relationship with your parents, you’ll miss them when they’re gone from your life.” Maya Anglou.
I began writing this article at 12 a.m. I didn’t know how I felt about writing children abandoning their parents into this cruel world. It is sickening, yes. But it happens. When parents get old, they get cranky and they need things and they want your time and I understand that most of us feel annoyed all the time. After all, we have our social lives, our social status, our work and our free time. We love our parents no matter what.
Why Old homes then?
Why were they made if we love our parents so much?
I always wondered about these things and to be honest I never really spent more than an hour thinking about it until I met Samana. She is running an NGO without all the fancy cars and fancy events and charity concerts by the name of Josh.e.Junoon. She told me that she visited an Old home, MGQ Memorial Trust located on Murree Road, Rawalpindi. She sent some photos of the visit too.
I was stunned. To be honest. A place like that exists here? In Pakistan?
I thought EAST and PAKISTAN had that traditional love your parents and eat and sit with them and consult with them in every life decision aura.
Was I wrong?
I took more details from her. Her whole team went to that average old age home for a day and met with 24 elderly people. They were all so happy to see this much gathering, I felt as if they thought they were celebrating Eid with their families!
Hugs and love all around. They didn’t even know them! But they loved them anyways.
Why? Because parents are selfless. They love all our flaws and all our wrong doings. In Pakistan, to be very blunt, our whole family system works and stands on the support of parents and their parents and our close relatives, like uncles and aunts. And this system, was working perfectly, till we, our generation started to build their lives outside our homes.
We started ignoring them, took decisions without asking them and snapping at them when they stopped us from doing something.
The pain, I saw, in the pictures… I feel as if we would all end up like that.
Alone and waiting for our children to come and laugh and play with us.
Team Josh.e.Junoon took an extended tour to know about all things in the old home. There were few blankets, no coolers for the in the summers and God did they miss home cooked food.!
They are all going there on 31st with coolers, blankets and home cooked food. Along with the most important thing: LOVE.
They are all waiting for their sons and daughters (Now very elite and socially high standard) to come and spend time with them. I wonder where they are. No, actually, I am thinking about Karma. If we are doing this to our parents, won’t our children do the same to us?
I can’t imagine living alone and unloved. Do you?
I am ashamed. As a Pakistani. And As a Muslim.
An Islamic state is supposed to have Islamic morals. Islamic rules.
Where our parents should come before anything else, and we listened and obeyed them for all the right reasons.
We need to love our parents. While we still have them. If we still feel untouched, I suggest we should look at the wrinkled cheeks and hands of these old home inhabitants.
Al they need is love and care. Nothing else. We need to be more patient with them. They are our ticket to heaven right? Then why not love them out of greed?
I salute Samana and her team Joshe.Junoon for stepping up and bringing love and attention to those, who are put aside by our own Islamic, Pakistani Nation.
For the love of God. Don’t lose your only way out of harm. They brought you here in this world and their prayers made you a socially acceptable person.
If anyone wants to contribute to the cause Samana and her team from Josh.e.Junoon has started, Please contact the Facebook page of Josh.e.Junoon.
https://www.facebook.com/junoonijazba/timeline
Article By Irum Zahra For Beyond Sanity Publishing and Josh.e.Junoon
Here are a few pictures from the visit:
Beyond Sanity Publishing 