Skip to main content

قطعہ


 یہ جو انتظار کے پل ہیں جانم
تمھیں کیا بتائیں کتنے کٹھن ہیں جانم
کبھی ختم ہونے کا نام ناں لیں
تیری آس پہ جینے پہ بضد ہیں جانم
یقیں ہے مجھ کو کے پل بھی تیری
محبت کے طلسم میں بند ہیں جانم
قدسیہ شاہ

Yeh joo intizaar kei pul hain janum,
Tumhein kya bataein kitnei kathein hain janum,
Kabhi khatam honei kaa naam na lein,
Teri aas pei jeinei pei bazid hain janum,
Yaqqn hain mujh koo kei pul bhi teri
Muhabbat kei tilism mein qayed hain jannam.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Snapshots

Naseem, is a six year old girl. When I met her she was sitting on the charpoi with her mother and constantly clapping but without any mirth. Her hair was cut almost to her scalp. I was told that she was a miracle child, she had been suffering from severe acute malnutrition and her family and relatives had almost given up hope that she would survive but she had proven all stats wrong and was sitting right in front of us. Physically, she was on the mend but her mental growth had been irreversibly stunted. She did not respond to any movement, any gesture or sound, her mind was somewhere else... A little boy, hardly seven, sitting on the curbside on an otherwise busy junction but at 0100AM he seemed so out of place on that dark, deserted road. As we stopped at the traffic signal, on the road perpendicular to where he was sitting, my attention was drawn to his posture. His slumped back was towards me and as I watched, two cars stopped on the lanes furthest from him. He made an ...

Captains!

Haven't written in a while and those following my blog would know by now that whenever something disturbing on the world scene happens, I stop writing. Its an irony because usually writers provide solace through their writings while I, lose all power of expression when I am disturbed. And then what is there to write? Follow any newspaper from around the world and there is only one message that you get: Pakistan is rapidly slipping into an abyss! I was born in the 70s and have grown up in the 90s, I have vague recollection of the 80s even though I was not old enough to understand what life under Zia's martial law was like but I have seen relay race of power between Benazir and Nawaz Sharif in the 90s but never in our history have we been so unsafe. Where every person big or small, significant or otherwise, powerful or weak, rich or poor is exposed equally to this invisible enemy. Call it what you might, Taliban, extremist, jihadi, Al Qaeda, seperatist, a murderer by any name is ...

Welcome to Facebook Era!

I am amazed that we don't notice change while it happens. Maybe because it is so slow- one micro pixel at a time! Though we do notice change when it has happened, we notice it when it is too late, we notice it to record an absence. For instance, Facebook will, I am afraid, irreversibly change our attitudes to relationships with people and things in times to come. At least we have known another era, kids growing up in FaceBook era won't know any other reality. To start with everyone in our contact list is a 'friend'. I might add my parents but when they join Facebook, they will have to be my 'friend'! My husband is my friend, so are my siblings. Oh yeah that girl I met last weekend on the beach who was very friendly and wanted to add me to stay in touch-is also a friend! What about that annoying guy in high school whom I was so happy to have lost in my life but now he has added me (I accepted his 'friendship because he was a friend of a friend and I didn'...