Sunday, October 30, 2011

In Response to~Sepia-Saturday-98-Saturday-29th-October 2011

I heard stories of my family travelling on horses as we were inhabitants of the mountain valleys of Kashmir.A bride had to ride a horse to reach her destined home.I also heard about donkeys carrying loads and people covering distances on foot and later on bicycles.Then I found myself in a new country with new cars and as a child of five or six I had had a ride in Chevrolet.In old photographs I discovered these special photographs and they prove the love and popularity of the new travelling inventions.
My Father with his official vehicle as Director Medical Services Northern Areas Pakistan
Willy's Jeep 1950s 
My sister Rashda (now Dr Rashda Firdaus MD Cleveland)in front of a Morris Oxford in the 1950s at Rawalpindi.The car belonged to Dr Shafiqur Rehman one of father's class fellows and friends, a frequent visitor.

We four sisters  at Gilgit in the 1960s with Toyota Jeep CJ5 .The only vehicle suitable for travel on the roads in the Northern Areas of Pakistan.Father was posted as Armed Forces Agency Surgeon and we are all set to leave on a trip for distributing medicines and clothes to the local people.

Thursday, October 27, 2011

Poem In Response to The Gooseberry Garden Poetry Picnic Week 10~ Of Wings, The Insect Is Shorn

Ah! constant struggle, yet

 Cannot reach the flower
 because of the thorn

 crawling and twisting
 trembling, climbing
  Up the tender twig,
  of wings the insect
  is shorn;

  sorrow seeps sinks
  what does one feel?
  Battle, blatant killing
  fields and one thinks

  why are there flowers,
    steel and splinter showers?

    'as flies to wanton boys'
    are we, the human beings
    toys?  In the minds
    of sinners and sinning?
    When will love again
    Be born?
    O’ Innocent or knowing Insect,

do you know the Way?
    We are lost and gone astray
    O Lord, if only I were one-
    I would just creep and crawl
    nor scream nor moan nor  be forlorn 
    But of the flower will think,
    and smile and smile and pray,
    till the end, every day.

Thursday, October 20, 2011

Poem in Response to ~Thursday Poets Rally Week 54~Oct 20-26-2011~We Used To...

We used to play and sing and
Watch and share 'most everything,
We used to taste sweet lemon drops
hunt  treasures  with  sorted props;
We used to play hide and seek
behind  the bushes and  the trees;
We used to sit on the walls and  talk
and play hop scotch drawn with chalk;
We used to build castles in the sand
and act like pirates with the one eyed band;

We used to read stories of wonderland
and sing and dance in our little fairland
We used to look at the far off stars
 unaware of  the terrifying wars;
       We used to find love and care
        peace and happiness everywhere 
        We used to …but wait…
        I will tell  you more, if it is not too late.

Friday, October 14, 2011

In Response to~Sepia-Saturday-96-Saturday-15th-October 2011

Post 1948 Kashmir StateWar
This is the Official Residence Backyard
of the 2nd in Command Officer of the
Combined Military Hospital Rawalpindi
Pakistan-the newly Independent State
Migrating from Kashmir,land property was
lost but not the culture and traditions
Kashmiri Meal 'WAZWAAN ' is being prepared here.
The meat is beaten till white, curd is commonly used
mostly meat dishes with boiled rice are enjoyed 
The Year is 1956

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

POEM in Response to Thursday Poets Rally Week 53 (6-12 Oct.2011)~ Christmas Time, Christmas Time and Prayers,

Christmas Time, Christmas Time and  Prayers,

Prayers for peace, a peaceful refuge,

Welcome Light, with lights on trees,
Green and white, in coloured deluge;
D├ęcor delight diversity diverted;
All hope one, all call one, All pray one;

Life to begin, or life , to cease?

Christmas Time, Healing Time and Tremors,
Tremors of blasts, killing blasts,
Farewell Love, with flags on caskets
Red and Blue, in deathly solitude,

Sacred silence spirit severed;

All around flowers, all fresh now

All withered now, none in baskets;
Christmas Time Christmas Time and Salvation

Salvation, for every nation?

Salvation Eternal, end of turmoil
in blood and sand, crimson and cream,

a moaning scream, a shattered dream?

One for one, each kills one, one by one, till none is none.
Christmas Time, Christmas Time and Love;

Love for All, a Tolerant Love,

With Gifts garlands and Gatherings,
Silver and Gold, Young and Old, the Brave and the Bold,

Weak and Strong, the Fighters for Freedom for the World;

All with Love, All at Home,

None at WAR, Glad Tidings for All.


I nominate OPEN SPACES Music of My Mind

Monday, October 3, 2011

POEM in Response to~Gooseberry Garden Poetry-Picnic-Week-7~Love's Nothingness

And then I see you,

not your image,

but you yourself outlined,

smiling quietly, you descend -

I wait , trying to comprehend your vision-

your thoughts take a form and enter my world forlorn,

I have no way to stop or hold

the charming intrusion,

I just feel the emptiness,

filled with silence, cold-

I reach out, only to touch



I am engulfed in the fold

of a soft serene essence tender, misty , comforting,

a sense unexplained, untold

is it real or is it a dream

I think, I try , I begin to cry

and drown into a tingling numbness.

Ah! Love's First and Last Visit