auratoN ko aansoo ki nemat na mili hoti tu pehlay he heart attack se kitna jadli mar jatien.

wo tu khushbu hay hawaoN mein bikhar jaye ga
mas-ala phool ka hay phool kidher jaye ga

The piece of writing comprises of hardly one short para and two three broken separate lines. Its full of hate, derogation and a tone that's heart pinching. Anyone reading this can doubt the mental soundness of the writer. I have read it twice to make sure that I am pronouncing it right, as I have read the last word "Rakhail". 

It's like someone has hit my heart with a heavy hammer and forgot to pull back. The weight on my chest is increasing by every breath I take. I've closed my eyes. I have adjusted my seat back to comfort my lumber. I have leaned my back on the seat. I have started looking out of the window. It has took me four years back. This is the same road, same journey and the same feelings when I talked to her for the last time.

I know there are moments in life all you want to do is to scream, to blow all the venom you have been absorbing for long. In those moments you need no counselling, no advises, no understandings but ventilation by saying whatever comes in your mind. In such cases even if one is supposed to respond but one should choose not to. One should realize that he is not able to hit every barking dog on the road neither capable of explaining himself to every raised eyebrow. 

Women understand their gender the best. That's why they prove to be the best friends and the worst enemies of each other. Nothing can be more harmful to a woman than another woman. Pity on her when she finds her man sleeping with another woman and call that woman, "you slut!!" How can she point her finger to another woman accusing her for unfaithfulness of her husband. Has there ever been a woman penalizing her husband for the flourishing brothels. Is it not a common sense that if she is in a business to sell sex there is a buyer to it? Doesn't it make a sense that if demand of a commodity will end the supply will go waist automatically? I don't know why there are always women killed in the name of honor. What if women start killing their men in the name of honor? But women will not because they love their husbands, their sons, their brothers and their fathers. They (women) will cover their (men's) sins with their lengthy scarfs, venomous taunts and curse towards the accused women. 

"Men are supposed to be enchanted, even by a weed stalk when wrapped in red." Her voice still echoes. 

"O Really?? is this the definition of a man? Of course not! you are just making a cover for your disloyal husband. Or it might be your experience as you might not have ever come across a real man!" there are always arguments left not responded.

I feel really painful when anyone accuse women for the obscenity in society. Why do we forget that the commandment on abstinence is first for men and then its for women ( Al-Quran 24:30,31).

One should not lose temperament in being judgmental about others. Every sinner has a future which we don't know. Being Muslims we are one, linked to each other, not opponents. So why don't we raise hands for prayer in their favor rather pointing fingers on them? Why don't we hold their hands to guide them to right path instead of calling them names? Why don't we teach and train them with our best manners and character instead of reflecting hate and derogation.

May Allah help all of us to be on the right path. Amen.

ﮐﺴﯽ ﭘﺮ ﻧﻈﻢ ﻟﮑﮭﻨﮯ ﺳﮯ

ﮐﻮﺋﯽ ﻣِﻞ ﺗﻮ ﻧﮩﯿﮟ ﺟﺎﺗﺎ

ﮐﻮﺋﯽ ﺗﻌﺮﯾﻒ ....!

ﺑﺎﻧﮩﻮﮞ ﮐﮯ ﺑﺮﺍﺑﺮ ﺗﻮ ﻧﮩﯿﮟ ﮬﻮﺗﯽ

ﮐﺴﯽ ﺁﻭﺍﺯ ﮐﮯ ﭘﺎؤﮞ

ﮐﺒﮭﯽ ﺩﻝ ﭘﺮ ﻧﮩﯿﮟ ﭼﻠﺘﮯ 

ﮐﺒﮭﯽ ﮐﺸﮑﻮﻝ ﻣﯿﮟ 

ﻗﻮﺱ ﻭ ﻗﺰﺡ ﺍُﺗﺮﯼ ﻧﮩﯿﮟ ﺩﯾﮑﮭﯽ 

ﺻﺤﯿﻔﮧ ﺭِﺣﻞ ﭘﺮ ﺭﮐﮭﻨﮯ ﺳﮯ 

ﻗﺮﺁﮞ ﺗﻮ ﻧﮩﯿﮟ ﺑﻨﺘﺎ .....! 

ﮐﺴﯽ ﻧﮯ ﺁﺝ ﺗﮏ 

ﺷﺎﻋﺮ ﮐﮯ ﺁﻧﺴﻮ 

ﺧﻮﺩ ﻧﮩﯿﮟ ﭘﻮﻧﭽﮭﮯ 

ﺩﻻﺳﮧ ....! 

ﻟﻔﻆ ﮐﯽ ﺣﺪ ﺗﮏ ﮬﯽ ﺍﭘﻨﺎ ﮐﺎﻡ ﮐﺮﺗﺎ ﮬﮯ 

ﮐﺴﯽ ﺧﻮﺍﮬﺶ ﮐﻮ 

ﺳﯿﻨﮯ ﺳﮯ ﻟﮕﺎﻧﮯ 

ﮐﯽ ﺍﺟﺎﺯﺕ ﺗﮏ ﻧﮩﯿﮟ ﮬﻮﺗﯽ 

ﺗﻤﮭﺎﺭﯼ ﺿﺪ ﮐﻮ ﭘُﻮﺭﺍ ﮐﺮ ﺩﯾﺎ ﺩﯾﮑﮭﻮ....! 

ﺳﺘﺎﺭﮮ ، ﭼﺎﻧﺪ، ﺳُﻮﺭﺝ ، ﺭﻭﺷﻨﯽ، ﺧﻮﺷﺒﻮ 

ﺗﻤﮭﺎﺭﮮ ﺩَﺭ ﭘﮧ ﮐﯿﺎ ﮐﯿﺎ ﺩﮬﺮ ﺩﯾﺎ ﺩﯾﮑﮭﻮ 

ﮔُﻞِ ﻓﺮﺩﺍ  

ﺍﺑﮭﯽ ﮐِﮭﻞ ﺟﺎﻭ ! 

ک ہ ن ے  س سے 

ﮐﻮﺋﯽ ﮐِﮭﻞ ﺗﻮ ﻧﮩﯿﮟ ﺟﺎﺗﺎ 

ﮐﺴﯽ ﭘﺮ ﻧﻈﻢ ﻟﮑﮭﻨﮯ ﺳﮯ 

ﮐﻮﺋﯽ ﻣِﻞ ﺗﻮ ﻧﮩﯿﮟ ﺟﺎﺗﺎ

Its a baby girl.

Zindagi Hum Se Tere Naz Uthaye Na Gaye 

Sans Lene Ki Faqat Rasm Ada Karte Rahe ..

ابھی کچھ دن لگیں گے

دل ایسے شہر کے پامال ہوجانے کا منظر بھولنے میں

ابھی کچھ دن لگیں گے

جہانِ رنگ کے سارے خس و خاشاک

سب سرو و صنوبر پھولنے میں

ابھی کچھ دن لگیں گے

تھکے ہارے ہوئے خوابوں کے ساحل پر

کہیں امید کا چھوٹا سا اک گھر

بنتے بنتے رہ گیا ہے

وہ اک گھر بھولنے میں

ابھی کچھ دن لگیں گے

مگر اب دن ہی کتنے رہ گئے ہیں

بس اک دن دل کی لوح منتظر پر

اچانک

رات اترے گی

میری بے نور آنکھوں کے خزانے میں چھپے

ہر خواب کی تکمیل کر دے گی

مجھے بھی خواب میں تبدیل کر دے گی

اک ایسا خواب جس کا دیکھنا ممکن نہیں تھا

اک ایسا خواب جس کے دامن صد چاک میں کوئی مبارک

کوئی روشن دن نہیں تھا

ابھی کچھ دن لگیں گے۔۔۔۔۔۔۔۔!

ہمارے دل میں کہیں درد ہے ؟ نہیں ہے نا ؟

ہمارا چہرہ بھلا زرد ہے ؟ نہیں ہے نا ؟

سُنا ہے آدمی مر سکتا ہے بچھڑتے ہوئے

ہمارا ہاتھ چھوؤ ، سرد ہے ؟ نہیں ہے نا ؟

سُنا ہے ہجر میں چہروں پہ دھول اڑتی ہے

ہمارے رخ پہ کہیں گرد ہے ؟ نہیں ہے نا ؟

Elegy

Ajab ghum ki dhamak! Dil pr parri hay

Udaasi aainoN se jhankti hay

Yeh kis manzar mein tumne sath chorra

Meri tasveer aadhi reh gyii hay

Tumhara hath abhi tu hath pr tha

Achanak aankh meri khul gyii hay

Abhi kal tak falak tha das-taras mein

Aur ab apni zameen bhi ajnabi hay

Fana ke baad bhi khawish hay teri

Musafat hai magar kitni karri hay

Kharray hein saans ki sarhad pe tanha

Humaray darmiyan bas zindagi hay