Whose Way?

A cat came upon my way

As I was coming back home

It stopped pacing

And stared at me,

Assessing me.

I kept walking.

When I was ten yards before it,

It leapt out of my way

Into a gap in the fence.

As I walked past,

I peeped at the gap

And saw the cat

Looking at me the same way.

I came upon a cat’s way

As I was coming back home

It stopped pacing

And stared at me,

Assessing me.

I kept walking.

When I was ten yards before it,

It leapt out of my way

Into a gap in the fence.

As I walked past,

I peeped at the gap

And saw the cat

Looking at me the same way.

Please Forget Me

Please don't care for me
Because one day I'll die
And I don't want to create a void in your heart.
So, don't mind me,
Don't talk or listen to me,
Don't bear with me,
Don't like me,
Don't get used to me.
And for goodness' sake,
Don't love me.
And once I die,
Don't remember me.
It's best for you to forget me.

Mujhse milne tum Jannat mein kaise aaogi Maa?

From http://luthfispace.blogspot.com/

Samahath Sama Sharif is a student in a Government Urdu Primary School in Bangalore. She is the daughter of renowned social activist Mr. Atharullah Shariff. She recently enacted the inner voice of a female foetus and moved many among the audience to tears.This Urdu poem is written by Dr. Hanif Shabab, Bhatkal, who is the president of Idara-e-Adab-e-Islami, Karnataka.

Following is the poem recited by Sama.

                       Line Cut Gayee

                       Hello, Maa

                  Assalamu Alaikum

Main Jannat se bol rahi hoon

Kaisi ho Maa?

Yahan Jannat mein phool khile hain
Manzar jagmagaa rahe hain
Doodh ki nadiyan baih rahi hain
Thandi hawayen chal rahi hain
Chidyaan naghme gaa rahi hain, saheliyan geet suna rahi hain
Allah ki Tareef ho rahi hai
Main jhoolon mein jhool rahi hoon
Pariyon ke sang khel rahi hoon

Main Jannat mein khush hoon Maa!

Lekin, lekin tum yaad aati ho
Hello, hello, Maa,
Bolo Abbu mere kaise hain?
Ghar pe saare kaise hain?
Bolo Maa
Dharti, Ambar, Chaand Sitare
Duniya kaisi lagti hai?
Sona, jagna, hansna, rona
Yeh sab kaisa lagta hai?
Bolo Maa!

Kya tum bhayya ki ankhon mein bhi
Kaanta, chhuri chubhoti ho?
Kya tum apne munne ka sar patthar se kuchlogi?
Kya tum apne jigar ko khud hi apne hathon kaatogi?
Nahin naa!

Phir mere saath hi tum ne aisa bartao kyun kiya?
Bolo Maa!

Apne naseeb ka khana to main khud laati
Auron ka hissa thodi khati
Jis Maalik ne tum ko diya tha, sab ko diya tha
Who mujh ko bhi de deta
Main duniya mein chand din rahti
To kaun si aafat tum par aati?
Abbu ke seene se lagti, saath mein bhayya ke bhi rahti
Munne ke sang hansti bolti
Tum se lori sunte sunte godi mein so jaati na Maa!

Lekin, lekin
Tum ne mujh se mera jeene ka haq chheen liya
Pait mein apne tum ne mujh ko
Bolo kaise qatal kiya?
Chaqu,  Chumta, Qainchi, Kaanta
Mere badan mein ghonp diya!
Mujh ko tum ne tukde tukde karwaya
Khoon mein mujh ko Nehlaya
Aur gutter mein phenkwaya!
Hoon! Hoon!

Pyari Maa! Acchhi Maa!
Yeh to bolo
Duniya jise kahte hain
Jis mein insaan baste hain
Wahan kutte billi ko bhi kya aisa karte dekha hai?

Hello Maa!
Main Jannat mein khush hoon
Lekin, lekin
Yaad tumhari aati hai!
Yeh batlao kya tum ko bhi meri yaad satati hai?
Tum ne kab mera koi naam rakha tha
Jo tum ko main yaad aati
Phir bhi Maa
Mujh se milne ek din tum bhi
Is Jannat mein aajana

Lekin, lekin, Maa!
Mera Maalik, mera Aaqa jab tum se yeh  Poochhegaa
Wo kya jurm thas jis ke badle mein tum ne mera qatl kiya?
Bolo Maa, kya bologi?
Khaliq Maalik Allah se?
Socho Maa, kuch to socho, jaldi socho

Warna, warna, mujhse milne tum Jannat mein kaise aaogi Maa?
Hello Maa, hello, hello Maa, hello… hello…
Maa… Maa…

if You see what I mean

            If you
                       have
                            the
                             habit
                            of
                      putting
                  your
              hand
            in
       every
    hole
  you
    happen
        to come
              across,
                    beware!
                             You will
                                         never
                                              know
                                                   which
                                                           has a
                                                               snake
                                                               within
                                                             that
                                                        will
                                                 strike
                                            back
                                              at
                                                YOU--

"I want to tell the world" : A heart stirring poem for Palestine by Nahida

Nahida is a Jerusalem-born Palestinian refugee living in exile for over 42 years. She was forced to leave her homeland, Palestine at the age of seven during the six-day war.

Here is her poem:

 I want to tell the world 

I want to tell the world a story

About a home with a broken lantern

  

And a burnt doll

About a picnic that wasn’t enjoyed

About an axe that killed a tulip

A story about a fire that consumed a plait

A story about a tear that couldn't run down

I want to tell a story about a goat that wasn’t milked

About a mother’s dough that wasn’t baked

About a wedding that wasn’t celebrated

And a baby girl that didn’t grow up

About a football that wasn’t kicked

About a dove that didn’t fly

I want to tell a story about a key that wasn’t used

About a classroom that wasn’t attended

About a playground that was silenced

About a book that wasn’t read

About a besieged lonely farm  

And about its fruits that weren’t picked

About a lie that wasn't discovered

A story about a church that’s no longer prayed in

And a mosque that no longer stands

And a culture no longer rejoiced

I want to tell a story about a muddy grassy roof

About a stone that faced a tank

And about a stubborn flag that refuses to lie down

About a spirit that cannot be defeated

I want to tell the world a story

Now light a little candle for Palestine

You can do it

Light a candle One little candle 
Watch the darkness fade away

Just try it out

One ray of light
Wipes away the gloomiest
Jet-black nights
As the dawn breaks

Just observe

Can you see that
All the might of darkness
In the world
Cannot extinguish
The faintest flicker
Of a beam of light

Light a candle
One little candle
Watch the darkness fade away

You can do it

Hey.. WORLD

Did you hear me?
From http://poetry4palestine.blogspot.com/

If you were there

I went to your new house today. The housewarming was on 15^th. It’s a nice house, simple and beautiful. The only thing missing was your presence. I kept thinking how different everything would have been if you were there. I even guessed where your room would have been. Your dad’s mom didn’t recognize me and your sister was telling her “Wafa’s friend, Wafa’s friend! Don’t you remember?” All the way back home, I kept thinking what dress you would have worn, and how you would have looked if you were with us today. May be you would have teased me saying,” Look at the time you have come to your best friend’s house on her housewarming!” We would have talked for a long time about nothing in particular, and still we would have felt reluctant to part. I don’t know how to tell you Wafa, but I kept missing you. I still miss you.

Once one of our friends asked me why I keep going to your house when you were not there anymore. What I told him in reply is what I experienced all over again today. You were not there, yeah, but you have left your marks on everything. I could see you in your mother’s face, your sister’s smile and your cousin’s welcome. There in the house you have never seen, I was reminded over and over of you, my best friend since kindergarten. I missed you really.

“If ever I forget your name, let me forget home and
Heaven!--But no, no, my love, I never can forget 'ee[thee]; for you was[were]
a GOOD... [ girl], and did good things!"

-The Woodlanders, Thomas Hardy.

untitled

I don't want my husband to know the Holy Qur'an as much as I do. He should either know more, or less than I do. After all, we have to learn something from each other. But of course, only God knows what is in store for me.

Motherhood

I long for very few things as I do for motherhood… I want to be a mother. I want to hold my baby in my arms, the child I have carried in my womb and fed through my blood. The child I have felt stirring inside me, the child I have dreamed of for years... My baby. I want to hold her in my arms and watch her little face as she sleeps soundly. I want to hold her tiny hands and feel her little fingers curl around mine. I want to see her smile in sleep. I want to cherish the moment I hold her for the first time, tears of joy in my eyes, and I want to look up and see the tears in my husband's eyes as we hold our baby for the first time, the child born out of our love.

Ants

Don’t step on the ants please,

Let them go about with ease.

Don’t they have a right to live?

We can’t take what we didn’t give.

Think before you plant your big feet:

To survive ants too have to eat.

May be someone at home was sick,

That’s why this ant here came to pick

A few grains. May be its family

Waits for it. Now don’t scorn me!

Ants normally live in groups.

Haven’t you heard of Solomon’s troupes

Turning back their way to let an ant-hill

Stand in its place, with its fill?

I agree that ant bites sting-

But you forgot this important thing:

It bites to stay alive

It fights hard to survive.

So don’t step on an ant.

It too has a right on land.

May be it does not have a wife

But it has life.

Inertia of Motion

Never do I remember Sir Isaac Newton more clearly than when I return home on bus after college. It is because our memory has a way of bringing strange things to our mind as we experience anything remotely connected with it. And so it is with my bus rides- Every time the bus screech to halt, I (and all other passengers who have to stand due to utter misfortune) will go and fall face down into the one standing in front of me. And that’s when I remember Sir Newton. Hadn’t he taught us that an object in motion tends to remain in motion, and all such stuff? If I’m to guess by my experience, Newton probably got this idea of inertia while travelling on bus (or whatever was used for public transportation those days, the only condition is that it has to sway enough to make you feel uncomfortable). It will be barely bearable in all seasons, but the condition worsens in rainy season as almost all the bus windows will be covered to prevent rainwater wetting the seats. The air inside will be suffocating- the smell of perfumes, hair oils and sweat, water dripping from umbrellas, the hurry to get down at the right stop… It makes you wish you could somehow get out of it. But unfortunately that’s not the end. You fight your way through the unrelenting crowd and somehow get down at your stop, but even then you are not left alone. You walk down the road to your home, and out of nowhere an SUV comes directly at you, you have to scurry out of its way (that is, only if you want to live) and again comes Sir Newton! Now in the form of wonder. Perhaps vehicles tend to be in motion even when they see people with nowhere to move in order to make way for them. And so you are forced to stand in a stream of muddy water, while being fully aware that it must have passed through garbage, spit, urine and only-God-knows-what-else. And that too with my ultra-sensitive feet. It was only in January that I had to stay at home for two weeks due to a skin problem. My God, the trouble one has to face to get education these days!