Discourse II

How do you think about me?

What sort of a question is that? You are a physician you should know more of how a patient’s thought procedure works. Besides keep these questions to your hospitals please, will you?

No, no, I was asking , like generally what do you think of me, when you call me and say you miss me, what are you thinking about, what feature,what memory reminds you of me?

Things like last night’s so well cooked meal!

I was tired okay. I forgot the salt.

You want me to be a poet and brag your beauty?

Yes, be a poet!

Some other day may be but i want to tell you something. Something strange that has happened before as well. remember the other day i called you at night. that moment a thought crossed my mind.

What was it about?

It was about you. It was a like a part of brain that is responsible for remembering people


Whatever it is! thank you! that is responsible for remembering people has remembered you for the first time. as if you were a bit of some matter flying in space of that part and captured you but didn’t recognize you. i don’t know how to put this in words. as if your existence just came out of a dark oblivion like a very shiny diamond.  and i was thinking who are you!

Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha.


I promise I’ll cook better meals. Ha Ha Ha


You should see a doctor

I see one on a daily basis.

Get me my shirt!

Get me my cigarettes!

Smoke me instead!

Wear me instead!


Poet of the East

with wisdom,passion,thought,faith

the man has touched hearts

given a new life to a Muslim’s faith

his Complain is so courageous

his Reply so satiating

no words for his Mosque of Cordoba

ultimate truth his Royal Cemetery

passionate his Ishrat-e-Amroze

ubiquitous his A Child’s Prayer 

a legitimate war his Mind and Heart

but alas! his dream is a dream still

and we are infected with

an imp of the perverse


as i grew i realized the truth

that everything wanes or evolves

and when time tests the conscience in cunning garb

static,it neither wanes nor evolves

then what rules is iztiraab

until regret wanes as memory evolves

i am possessed by iztiraab


*Iztiraab is an Urdu word which means: restlessness, perturbation, anxiety.

12-11-12 – 01:02


is it hard to keep an emotion in the heart

and not reveal it to people who part?

all i wanted was to tell you the truth!

the last thing i dream to hear is the truth

i cannot give you what you deserve

i never wanted what i deserve

the seeds which you had sown long ago

do not rob me of their fruit, the hope

all because you have known your self?

because you think i cannot cope?

my bond with you is stronger than all cages

than the grip of an old soul’s hand, fearful to depart

and its shatter will haunt you for ages

and you will wish to come back to the start!

if time has made your love weak

it has made my love strong

i remember that as only a biological event

at your sight, that rush of blood to my cheek

to you i had always wanted to belong

one last question you must answer clearly

does an emotion really matter when its

last trace has vanished from human memory?

11-11-12        18:10