Posted in award, blog, blogger, bloggers, blogging, blogging 101, blogs, border, borders, brotherhood, childhood, communal, criticism, diary, dreams, feminism, hate, hatred, humanity, independence, inspiration, journal, Life, love, love poetry, online journal, peace, personal, poetry, self-help, social, style, Uncategorized, violence, war, writing

Untamed

You rise,

And fall,

And still go on.

 

You care,

You cry,

And still  manage to love.

 

You are power,

You are life.

But still treated as a mice.

 

The  beauty within,

Is unimaginable.

But still,

Your silhouette is what they savor.

 

You are the creator.

And the nurturer.

But your chains,

They tell a different story.

 

You are blamed.

You are tamed.

You are a prisoner,

In the hands of your creation.

 

They cheat,

They sly,

They rip off your mind.

And still,

With every single vein,

In your body,

Burning in flames.

You rise.

Rise like a Phoenix.

With love ever-flowing.

 

Oh! My love.

How? How on Earth?

How do you manage?

To be so forgiving?

 

They burnt you alive.

Threw you on a live pyre. 

Your own blood.

It just kept quiet…

 

You were draped.

In silks and cotton.

In long flowing skirts.

Hoping to shut your soul,

To a world full of potential.

 

Break this glass of illusion.

My dear.

Break it.

Let them typecast you.

Let them keep you in a cage.

 

You spread your wings.

Your beautiful, white hued wings.

And break free.

To reach the skies.

Skies full of your dreams.

 

Be your own creation.

And not the creator, 

Of ruthless dictators.

Who betray,

Lie,

And leave you in abyss.

 

You are the creation.

Of a world,

That belongs to you.

And not the puppeteers,

That you created.

 

You are,

Untamed.

 

Love,

H

 

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Posted in blog, blogger, bloggers, blogging, blogs, border, borders, brotherhood, childhood, communal, criticism, dreams, feminism, gandhi, hate, hatred, humanity, independence, independence day, india, indians, jinnah, Life, love, national, nehru, Pakistan, pakistani, Partition, peace, personal, poetry, punjab, punjabi, religion, social, terrorism, Uncategorized, war, writing

That Forbidden Land

Does this bird fly,

High in the sky,

In that forbidden land?

I wonder…

 

Children go to school.

Their bags stacked with books.

Mothers make breakfast.

In that forbidden land.

I wonder?

 

Did she marry,

The man of her dreams?

Did she go out,

To pursue her dreams?

In that forbidden land,

I wonder?

 

Friends going on long drives.

Girls giggling in posh cafes.

Ladies gossiping on streets.

Does this happen for real?

In that forbidden land,

I wonder?

 

That forbidden land,

Have swathes of paddy fields.

Children sleeping on footpaths,

It also has a bunch of women,

Who set an example for humanity.

 

That forbidden land,

Have grandpas and grandmas,

Who tell bedtime stories,

To children just like ours.

 

Can I join them too?

Can I be a part of their dreams?

Can I not understand their feelings?

In that forbidden land,

I wonder…

 

Our history the same,

Our ancestors fought for the same cause.

But we fail to identify,

That our existence rests upon love.

 

We bicker and fight,

Trying to bring each other down.

For past sixty years, what have we reaped?

Come on, give me an answer?

 

Kids cry, wail and then laugh.

Kids, theirs and ours.

What difference is it,

That makes them our enemies?

In that forbidden land,

I wonder?

 

Heer is befuddled,

To which side she lost her lover?

Ranjha roams in every street,

Which world stole from him his Heer?

 

Put your hand on your heart.

And then think it through.

Would you like the same hate?

The abuse you shower at them?

 

What is their fault?

What did they do?

Because of a bunch of politicians,

Billions of us suffer.

 

Born in the same land.

Our problems, the same.

Then instead of sympathy,

Why so much of hatred?

 

We humans will bring Doomsday,

Soon, very soon.

Why don’t we then bring in love?

And let those wounds soothe?

 

That forbidden land,

The land we all belong to

That forbidden land,

Is waiting for you, too…

STOP STREWING HATE AT PAKISTAN JUST BECAUSE IT IS PAKISTAN. #LOVEISTHEONLYSOLUTION 

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XOXO,

H

Posted in feminism, inspiration, social

I’m Flawed

I’m a normal human being.
With acne scars
And prominent stretch marks.
I will not let you
Dictate me.
I’m Flawed.

I have frizzy hair
Crooked teeth
Dark skin
And ingrown hair
I will not let you
Dictate me.
I’m Flawed.

I’m short
And a size ten
I like my Nikes
And my Adidas
I will not let you
Dictate me.
I’m Flawed.

I hate waxing
Shaving
Threading
Can’t bear the pain.
I will not let you
Dictate me.
I’m Flawed.

I hate cardio
Yoga.
I prefer wearing my yoga pants
In my bed.
I will not let you
Dictate me.
I’m Flawed.

XOXO

H ❤