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Sorry That I Failed You

Even the tears,

The ever flowing tears,

Have dried on my face,

Leaving indelible marks.

 

The pain in my heart,

Which evoked once,

Has gotten into my conscience,

I cry, I cry.

 

Oh! My Rohingya brothers,

My beautiful sisters,

And our innocent children,

I am sorry that I failed you.

 

They left you floating,

In lakes and rivers,

Lifeless,

I could see you all helpless,

But all I could do was nothing..

 

Your feet bled,

Whilst you crossed the barbed wires,

Their gunshots piercing through your body,

Your cries, oh! your helpless cries.

I am deeply sorry, I failed you…

 

For days,

Your belly was without food,

Families lost,

Some completely washed,

In the Bay of Bengal.

I am sorry that I failed you.

 

Dear son, how we rejoiced,

The first day of your school,

Never a thought crossed our mind,

That it will be your death pool!

 

He stabbed you once,

He stabbed you twice,

I failed you little munchkin,

I silenced your beautiful voice.

 

They shot an ideology,

They shot her voice.

Dear Gauri Lankesh,

But why are you still alive?

 

Their only aim was,

To bury your alighted mind,

But little did they know,

They’ve alighted millions of lives.

 

Who are they?

Cut from the same cloth, right?

Members of the same family.

But lagging in foresight?

 

This world has enough pain,

Enough souls who are suffering.

Please stop adding to that number.

Please, enough with the plundering..

 

And all I can ask,

Is for your forgiveness.

It is my utterly shameless silence,

That has created a world so VICIOUS.

 

Asking for forgiveness,

H ❤️

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Sorry Neighbor.

I,

If I may,

Apologize.

I have been,

A devil in disguise.

 

Oh what ‘Aman ki Asha’?

What peace,

If I may ask?

My fellow countrymen,

A fallacy in which they bask..

 

I have killed love,

Harmony,

and every beautiful feeling.

I know hate,

Jealousy,

And why would I even conceal it?

 

Forget about a country,

Forget about a state.

The street that I live in,

There are many people I hate.

 

I may,

If I want to,

Wear a mask of love.

But really I’m a villain,

Benevolence, I don’t speak of!

 

And why,

Why on earth will I be ashamed?

And critical of myself?

Aren’t we all in this together?

How well we repel!

 

And teaching hatred,

To our kids.

Doesn’t sound so filthy.

“He did first, then I did”,

We find it healthy!

 

And isn’t this,

What’s going on?

From the past 70 years?

Blaming each other and all of the rest,

“Uh! The mistake is THEIRS!”. (always)

 

There are widows on both sides,

Childless parents,

And also orphans.

But who cares to budge, my dear,

We are totally okay with coffins!

 

Well,

We do shed a tear or two,

Whenever a soldier dies.

But the martyr can’t be yours,

‘Cause otherwise we will rejoice!

 

A fake motherland,

I like to worship,

With all my heart.

But only for a day or two,

Rest of the days I’m a total pervert!

 

Bring on,

The next 70 years now,

Shall we?

The nations we both so love,

Let’s turn ’em into a debris!

 

XOXO,

H

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Pakistan Kills 2, India Kills 2…

I was going about with my morning routine; tea, breakfast and reading newspaper. Then I came across this picture which moved me to tears….

An innocent kid weeping incessantly over the mutiliated body of his father. The question isn’t here who did it. The question here is why? And for how long????!!! 
Pakistan kills 2, India kills 2. 
Children from both sides become orphans. Women from both sides become widows. Hostility grows. And for what? Only to satiate the egos of a few politicians? What personal enmity you and I have with Pakistan? Or what personal enmity does a kid or even an adult in Pakistan has with us? Nothing! 
But this killing is unstoppable. Blood is shed over and over again. We discuss this over and over again. But who listens? 
Hate has made us hopeless maniacs. We follow the herd and join the ‘I Hate Pakistan’ club. Without even knowing why it came into being. Without even knowing our follies. 
But how does that matter to this little kid now? He has lost his father forever. A father, for god’s sake! I can’t imagine in my dreams living without my father. I commit mistakes. I prance around proudly. Why? Because I know my father is there to protect me always. 
But this kid’s father was there to protect to us all. And he died. Mercilessly. 
We weep when an Indian soldier dies. But rejoice when a Pakistani soldiers dies. Why? Wasn’t he a father? Or a son? Didn’t he have any family that will mourn just like this little kid?  
How can we be so negligent towards the emotions of their families? Why can’t we all come together and stand firm on the face of the governments of both the countries that we don’t want violence. If you guys have a problem, then just stop talking. Why kill innocent people from both sides??? 
My heart pains… 
Love and respect,

H💔

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Agony Of A Chopped Tree

I was planted,

Then I was watered.

I was taken care of,

With undying love.

 

The world was a sanctuary,

Full of nothing but merry,

Where I could rejoice,

And have my own voice.

 

Then I started to spring,

And heard a bell ring.

They are on their way!

But I can’t even run away!

 

“Who would come for my help?”

I couldn’t resist but yell.

The thumping of their feet,

Echoing a drumbeat.

 

Chop! Chop!

The first of my branches dropped..

Ruthless maneuvering I could see,

Nobody to help a feeble tree.

 

This went on,

For long.

I was in utter pain,

Alas! It was their reign.

 

I was told to serve others,

And in the process self-smother.

Their faces had grins,

While I was dying from within..

 

Who do I tell that I want to grow?

And not to become an art of Michelangelo.

Their craftsmanship would cut me into dices.

And they would all call me priceless!

 

My agony was their ecstasy,

And it was my only legacy.

To serve, I was nurtured,

In the end, brutally murdered..

 

XOXO,

H ❤️

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I Am My Own Prison

They are on my lips,

But they fail to come out.

My thoughts have no way out.

 

They rise and fall,

Like the mighty waves.

But then a sudden halt.

 

My wings were not chained.

I flew above the sky.

But now I feel tamed.

 

I am in my own prison.

I wanna rise.

But it seems to be a distant vision..

 

They say they all love me.

But their sounds are pain in my ears.

I’ve lost my glee.

With my ashen face,

I roam around.

I am my own enemy.

 

Been a while,

Since I enjoyed.

And had a real smile.

 

Nobody can save me.

I am imprisoned.

No one to hear my desperate pleas.

 

I wanna do what I like.

Not to please them all.

I wanna live my life.

 

With clipped wings I try to fly,

But fail miserably every time.

My hope is now dying.

 

My cries die before they come out.

I lie wailing from the inside.

Let me live before I’m completely washed-out!!

 

XOXO

H

The Distant Freedom

I met a boy,

Distressed beyond words,

Crying relentlessly,

His appearance was shabby.

It was my curiosity,

That led me to him.

“Why are you crying?

O! Little child?”

At first he was a bit startled.

Looked at me straight in the eyes.

Then a weak voice came out,

“Nothing… It’s nothing.”

Now that I observed him,

Closely.

I couldn’t let him cry,

No.

So, I gained a bit of courage,

To ask this weeping, innocent child,

The cause of his distress.

This time, 

He was less wary of me.

Somehow, we both connected.

A feeble voice struggled to say,

“Baba is beating maa..”

And there I was,

Standing,

My hand on his shoulders,

I was speechless.

I was grappling with words.

What do I say?

How do I console?

How do I tell this little soul,

What his father is doing,

Is awry, beyond words..?

This guy lives a mile away,

From my neighborhood.

Fell in love,

With a damsel,

A heart that loved all.

People all around,

Frowned.

Love before marriage?

O! They were all embarrassed!!

Alas! Their love story,

Was short-lived.

Just like many,

We witness daily.

My friend had a dream,

To paint this world red,

The color of love.

She held her brush,

Dipped it in crimson pigment.

As soon as she took the brush out,

Her father held her hand,

Threw the brush away,

And placed a book there, instead.

She now lives a life,

In strife.

Disputes, her existence.

What was so wrong with the brush,

Anyways?

There’s a girl I see,

On the traffic signal, everyday.

Greets me with a huge smile,

And extends me a flower each time.

Wears a torn frock,

Always barefoot,

Hair gone blonde in the sun,

Skin, dry and broken…

I buy a rose from her,

For ten bucks,

Thinking,

I have bought a piece of bread for her.

And then we part ways,

Only to meet the next day.

I see, and I remain quiet.

I choose.

I choose to remain quiet.

Because I have the FREEDOM.

Yes. The FREEDOM.

Domestic violence.

Well, I should remain in silence.

Two hearts,

Forced to be apart.

Sounds too amusing,

For a gossip to kickstart!

Dreams of youth,

Kept under wraps.

This word ‘freedom’ that they taught us,

Well, it was just a trap!

Children asking for money,

On the streets.

O! Poor thing.

I may as well give.

But taxes?

Eh! How can I give it a miss?

Freedom has come down to,

Being a relative word.

For some,

It is a right.

To some,

It doesn’t come,

Even after a fair fight.

Only those celebrate it,

Who overlook its true meaning.

For the real thing is,

Freedom has never been ours…

 

P.S.- Be it Bhagat Singh, Chandrashekhar Azad or Jawaharlal Nehru; we Indians have always loved our country. Since past 70 years, we are celebrating what has gone by and keeping our eyes shut to what is happening. Winning our country back from the Britishers was not freedom. Doing anything that doesn’t harm anybody is freedom. And I’m sorry to say, that freedom has not arrived yet. So, why not work towards it? Why not work to make our beloved country an ideal country? Let’s leave all the apprehensions behind. Let’s unite in uniting this country towards the cause of love; love that has shaken the very being of the strongest of hatred prevailing in this world. For, we live only once and let’s unite to make this one life worth living 🙂

 

Happy independence day, my fellow Indians 🙂

 

XOXO,

H

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Pakistan’s Obsession With Kashmir

#IAMBurhanWani #IndiaCantSee #LetKashmirDecide

 

“141 die in a brutal Peshawar massacre”

“Women students killed in a bombing in Quetta”

“Amjab Sabri shot dead in Karachi”

“Twin suicide bombings hit Peshawar church; 127 dead”

 

And many more headlines like these.

 

I am not a Pakistan hater. I sympathize each time some untoward incident happens and takes away the lives of innocent people (not Pakistanis, nor Muslims), but people, human beings to be precise.

 

And we are all aware how convoluted Pakistan politics is. Youth icon Imran Khan celebrates the failed coup attempt in Turkey and ‘encourages’ Pakistani people to welcome a coup in their country, too. A country which celebrated the handover of power from one democratically elected government to another in 2013 (though, reports came out that the elections were rigged), is being told to give up all of that. Bravo! We all know how dictatorship has ruined Pakistan. We all know how dictatorship has ruined nations across the world. But, yeah, Pakistan Tehreek-e-insaaf chief endorses that very ideology which has prevented Pakistan to flourish.

 

Male-chauvinists lambaste a girl who wanted to shun the norms set for women across the society and the result is her being brutally murdered by her brother. Though, I am glad that her death was mourned over by majority of Pakistanis. But accept it people, it is us who are responsible for her death.

 

I sometimes wonder what is so wrong with the ideology ‘westernization’? Aren’t there people living in the West too? Don’t they have any feelings? Are they all bad? Then what harm is it that when someone tries to embrace the western culture, he or she is shamed to such an extent that they lose all hope in their very own ‘cultured society’? Thank you people for inciting the murder of Qandeel Baloch.

 

Some retards think of it as an act of bravery to shoot innocent, unarmed schoolchildren in Peshawar. There is some utmost sense of satisfaction that these retards feel while carrying out such ghastly coward acts. Similar to it is the Quetta attack where these retards killed innocent women students just to prove that women are fit to be housewives. Well, they feel threatened of these brave women and hence, they decide to silence their burning hearts with suicide bombings.

 

Why am I picking on the worst in Pakistan when it is like my dreamland? Well, I’m sick and tired of Pakistan’s ‘utterly obnoxious obsession’ with Kashmir. I don’t say that India is a perfect country. I won’t justify it. And I’ve got my own political views. But, Pakistan has this peculiar habit of putting their nose in everything ‘bad’ that is happening in India. It’s like, they’ve got such strong views about us Indians as if we are some outsiders and they are the victims of all the ‘injustice’ taking place in India. And I don’t know when they will realize that Kashmir is a part of India. And no matter how much they like to endorse this view that India has forcefully held Kashmir, they will never be able to prove it.

 

There are people like Shah Faesal out there in Kashmir who are realizing that all this ‘Azadi’ game is futile. If you want a better life, you’ve got to go the traditional way- education and a good job. But no, the Pakistani propaganda is to cripple the Kashmiris and make martyrs out of several Burhan Wanis.

 

One armed Burhan Wani dies and Pakistan announces a Black Day. But what about those unarmed, innocents that die everyday in Pakistan? Well, Pakistan is an intelligent state. They’ve got an answer to every question I’ll put forth. The innocents that are dying each day inside the Pakistani territory is all India’s fault just like the ‘innocents’ like Burhan Wani dying in India is India’s fault.

 

It is high time that we all realize that there are two nations- India and Pakistan. Not a saint (Pakistan) which is always crying foul of a devil (India) forcefully holding its self-declared child (Kashmir). And it is time for us Indians to realize the same too. Let Pakistan be, what it is. But I guess the firing (virtual) won’t stop anytime soon. It pains me to see that even the youth, which were the only hope, are also die-hard enemies of the two states. Nobody really endorses peace. Because hate sells faster than love. Can you imagine Modi winning an election by talking all sugar-coated stuff for Pakistan? Same for Nawaz Sharif and the likes of Imran Khan?

 

Nobody is ready to accept this fact. We all go on and on strewing hate at each other as if we have looted and killed each other’s family members. We all have been blinded by these hate-strewing politicians. But no, it is too straight a fact to justify it all, isn’t it?

 

Aren’t Indian army-men braving the stone-pelters in Kashmir? The army-men who are one among us. Born in ordinary families like ours and trying to save innocent lives. How hard is it to believe this fact? No one in Pakistan cries and photoshops stupid pictures when Indian army-men die, and that too daily. Children become orphans when their brave fathers die fighting the terrorists in Kashmir. But no, it doesn’t really matter. Why? Out of my understanding…

 

So, I urge all Pakistanis to get over their obsession of Kashmir and their never-ending hate for India. It won’t budge us Indians to think any less of our Kashmiri brothers and sisters.

 

That’s all I gotta say.

 

Praying for my Kashmiri brothers and sisters.

 

XOXO,

H ❤ 

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To The Angel In Jannah

Your demeanor,

Your smile,

Your eyes,

And your heart’s might.

This world has seen all.

Beautiful Angel,

Rest in peace.

 

A child’s cry,

A dog’s whine.

Your heart saw pain,

And did best to rectify.

 

Our eyes are full.

Tears that won’t stop flowing.

What have you done, Angel?

Oh dear, Angel!

Left us in absolute abyss..

 

But you are a beacon,

A beacon of hope,

A beacon of love,

Who not only taught us,

But engraved in us,

The true meaning of humanity.

 

Up there, you will witness,

A miracle.

A miracle you gave birth to.

People loving people.

Parents loved by children.

Women flying high.

Sick, far away from dying.

 

You ignited this fire.

We will carry it forward.

Oh dear, Angel!

Thank you for being you.

The truest form of humanity.

 

Why do I feel,

A part of you in me?

Why do I feel,

You taking care of me?

 

These borders they created,

Are meaningless, my Angel.

You lived in a forbidden land,

But I feel you right here.

 

Mercy; you gave birth to this word.

Oh dear, Angel of Mercy.

Humanity, taught by many,

But it is you who personifies it.

 

What is happening in this world?

Dear Angel, show us a path,

To eliminate this hatred.

Humans killing humans.

Dear Angel, we need you…

 

But,

You’ve done your part.

Done enough for us to realize,

That no one is an enemy.

Now it is up to us,

To love,

Love beyond the man-made ambit…

 

Thank you dear Angel,

You are my shining star..

 

P.S.– World after 8 July, 2016 is not the same. We’ve lost the greatest of great, the man who embraced humans as they are, irrespective of their identity as we know it, Abdul Sattar Edhi. Edhi sahib was what we can only dream of. For him, humans were his family. He knew love and hence, gave it exorbitantly. Animals were as dear to him as us, humans. He couldn’t see anyone in pain. From nothing, he built an empire; an empire of love, humanity and mercy. He was a father to millions. He fed millions. He, who defied all odds to serve the very purpose he was sent into this world. We all are sent into this world to help each other. So, let us all follow the path he showed us all. Defy all boundaries that we’ve constructed around us and give as much as we can. Anything that can comfort an ailing heart, give it. Comfort others. Love them. I think, that would be a real tribute to the greatest philanthropist of our time.

 

Forever in my heart.

 

XOXO,

H

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Halfway Through, But Nowhere..

A thrush,

After complete hibernation.

Halfway through,

But not going nowhere.

 

The promises,

the hopes and the dreams.

Faded away,

In the stream,

Of thoughts,

That caught,

My attention.

Thereby,

Making me lose,

My own little world.

 

Speed as fast,

As that of a light.

My thoughts,

Took over my life.

 

Futile,

Is how I’ll describe.

My actions,

Made my life.

 

And, I knew,

The formula of losing,

By heart.

We, the ones fighting,

Gave birth to this art.

 

How? Procrastination.

And a severe dearth of,

A strong will,

And determination.

 

Halfway through this year,

And no way near,

To a world,

I vied for.

I have alas!

Lost my own war..

 

XOXO,

H

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Against The Tide!

They gleamed,

And laughed.

Thought I was defeated.

And celebrated my debacle,

Resembling the brute Germans,

Of WWII..

 

I kept quiet,

Sunk in my thoughts;

“Am I a weakling?”,

“Should I bear injustice?”.

 

How can I forget,

That I revere Madiba,

Who was an icon of perseverance!

 

How can I forget,

He was a lone warrior.

Led the way to freedom,

By his ignited heart.

 

How can I forget,

He fought for 27 long years.

A silent war..

And in the end,

Defeated the evil legacy,

In their own game!

 

Can I not replicate,

The victory of truth over lie?

Can I not make them,

Vie for good times?

 

I will be responsible,

For all the (mental) deaths, 

by these brutes…

And I have to fight,

At my own risk.

I fear none.

Because what they hold,

Doesn’t scare me anymore!

 

They make us weak.

Threaten us.

But we bear it all.

All because we are scared.

But this fear arises out of ignorance.

Ignorance that,

No human can be told,

How to breathe.

So breathe,

And show them,

That their evil ideology,

Will not prevail.

And that,

Truth always wins!

 

XOXO,

H ❤