Friday, September 30, 2011

~How Would I Know, If Someone~~`



How would I know, if someone thinks of me

In this life,  In this time,  In this world

In this orb variegated, of struggle and strife

Short and tense, devoid of sense, thoughtless I lie

Lost I stand, amidst a throng I wander,

Staring aimless , still sinking far into the expanses

of soul spirit and mystery,

Oh, the heart, bleeding profusely

Say, do you think truly Is your song faithful

And your thoughts virtue? How would I write?

What words may convey  the song I hear,

From the smile I see,

sinking deep in the cold recesses of the heart, innocently,

what name, what place, where from does it come to me?

“Oh The winds did sing it softly”

“Why so late in life, tenderly silently?”

fears strike as tears roll down,

the cheeks, uncontrolled, freely

Why, a desire, a fire, a sweet tune

On the strings of the lyre,

Will The Song fix the broken heart,

Or  the windowsill be ready

to place the shining daffodils

Destiny plays across the oceans

No more useful,

The Trojans or The Horse wooden;

Greece or Troy –Hell or Eden

How can The Heart bridge the two worlds apart?

Can the smile be the message or the lines from The Song?

Telling me I am not wrong, that faith is strong with honesty

And that is how I would know if someone truly thinks of me.














































Thursday, September 29, 2011

Post for~Sepia Saturday 94 : Saturday 1 October 2011~ On Family FIAT ~1955

One sunny afternoon in the winter of 1955
With my Mother and Sisters
Our Royal seat, our beloved Fiat 1954
Our House 24 Willoughby Road , a spacious residence
(built for pre Partition British Officers Rawalpindi Cantonment
Pakistan)a similar house is visible in the background.

Monday, September 26, 2011

Poem in Response to~POETRY PICNIC WK 6 ~ Stories from Mythology, Culture and of life~ 'Your Letter Reminds Me That~



Promises on paper traced forever once written cannot be erased but silently staring nowhere quietly unmoving yet sharing words that remain in the air and everywhere, for I hear them in happiness and in pain and see them again and again telling me the time and love with which you wrote each line while I waited to hold the precious paper-but then…I remembered the Prophesy,' a young doctor will appear in the neighbourhood and will visit you with a paper and pen, there may be another need so be prepared''
A white flying Alto
and a smiling face
beckoned me to follow
and I did with grace
soon the Welkins
showered their rage
and the Lions were let
loose from the cage
I looked up and appealed
to Aolus for help
please calm the cumulus
I am so in stress
I unaware of the many odds
heard Poseidon say
'Man is nothing without the Gods'
I fell on the sands
and joined my hands
Pray accept my sacrifice
and release me from this strife'
As ever the Heavens
heard my plea
welkins cleared and
calm was the sea
and I thanked the Almighty
for the Kindness and Mercy
Suddenly there rose from
the deep ocean
a huge nine headed serpent
with a terrifying motion
blew a set of papers
and a box of pens
swiftly as he came swiftly
below the surface of
the waters he went,
and then I knew
the prophesy had come true
this was a gift
to 'write  a reply'
from 'A Letter' from You''
Now...
I am thinking on what 'you wrote'
a discovery, a peripity
for us writers poets and all
Fate and Destiny are ordained
We need to be ready
To Rise or Face the Eventual Fall.


your letter reminds me that
things were different in life
full of struggle and strife
for you the aims were no less
than Royalty or  a Princess,



Your letter reminds me
Of age and infirmity
Of limits bonds and fraternity
But you were full of rigidity
and fear always baseless,
you thought life
would become a mess,

your letter reminds me that
friends should be the same age
otherwise life becomes a cage
and problems increase, at times
leading to disease and pain,

your letter reminds me that I
made a mistake and did not take
time to judge and break
Of walls doors locks
and security,
and last of all

your letter reminds me that
you do care in the world
for those who wish you well
But if I am one of them
Your letter does not tell,

All I know
now since long we have not written
time and duty has kept this hidden
how paper and pen can keep together
the love and spirit between friends
and keep the link at both the ends.





















Saturday, September 24, 2011

In Response to Poetry Palace Thursday Poets’ Rally Week 52 (Sept. 22-Sept. 28, 2011)

sometimes with candles
sometimes without light

always with heat hot feet
iced treat, a listless retreat
pearly drops upon the brow
silent swish of the date palm fan
resigned plight helpless forlorn
Silent Night, stars so bright

Absence of Light creates
awareness of sight
raises the sound of silence within
no words spoken yet wisdom begins
the break in the power makes
everything dark-
beyond our reach as all is still
nothing at will sweat drops fill
as the tears of the candle slide
and collide, Life slips over
another step, Yes, its summer,
slow hot summer pushing all in,
sleepless slumber

Oh, lets try to harness the power
or try to remember happily
ever after-The forgetful hour



Friday, September 23, 2011

In Response to ~Sepia Saturday~93~Saturday 24 September 2011

My Loving Parents
On their Wedding Day
12th November 1942
My Father  Capt.Dr Abdur Rashid RIMS
Royal Indian Medical Service
wearing a Battle Dress was in active service
with the British Indian Army
My Gracious Mother    Saeeda Begum
wearing the traditional 'Shalwar Kamees Dupatta'
and Jewelery on the forehead called 'Jhoomar'
Place is Our Family Home
in
AAB-E-GUZAR
SRINAGAR
KASHMIR

Poetry24: Who is The Cleverest Crow of Them All?

Poetry24: Who is The Cleverest Crow of Them All?: Mirror mirror on the wall who is the cleverest crow of them all, Caledonian crows? The elite group of species, who can use twigs to fish...

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

POEM in Response to Jingle Poetry at the Gooseberry Garden~ POETRY PICNIC WK 5 : Object~ The Mobile Connector

Creating connections, celestially,
In  mists storms or rain
does soothe away the pain,
no spaces in distances remain.
 like the light winged Dryad,
make the communicative melody,
O’ for the Sound of Linkage,
In the New Age,
opening magic casements,
orange, gold ,blue, and black 
I stay in touch, with my family
I am free I am at  ease,
 what numbers are these,
what Attic shapes!
I hear melodies so sweet
what chimes do jingle,
what messages they bring
what numbness they tingle!
what flashes do twinkle
the bell rings the call in
   So,let the communication begin!
As comforts sets in, connections sing
 the best of things for
pedagogy equality fraternity,
 the most sought for
 The connector of community!

Saturday, September 17, 2011

In Response to~ Sepia Saturday~92~Saturday 17th September 2011

This photograph was taken in the 1950s
in the city of Rawalpindi Pakistan.
My graceful Mother wearing the traditional Eastern dress
called'Gharara suit' with her head covered with a 'Dupatta''
draped around the shoulders.
Such dresses are not part of normal dress wear
in Pakistan.They are now mostly worn by brides
but that style has also changed and it is a
matter of choice.

Baker Street Inspirations~General Abbott's Discovery~ Abbottabad

Abbottabad we love you
What you were in the 1960s
With all your beauty and grace
You are our home and place

Abbottabad we love you
As General James Abbott did
when he first saw you green
and wooded, cool hilly space;

The last five miles are
winding winding ways,
the bus turns the corners,
I remember the winter days,

Home, home on the range
autumnal grandeur of apeles
Before you know…..
the town itself  reveals,

At its own, the evergreen stature,
The Spiritual Presence of Nature
Majestic melodious mountains,
Of The Highlanders Stature

February is fresh as May
Springs apple blossoms call,
snowflakes greet you,
vanishing, as they fall;

 Serenity intense,
 nature crisp and pure
 beauteous and fresh
 White and sure;

Oh! Let me feast my eyes
On the beauty of my town,
Breathe the sweet smell of pine,
Home for many, not alone mine.

Oh! Let me live the truthful
moments while they are there.
let the freshness creep
into my soul, while I'm here.



Thursday, September 15, 2011

Baker Street Inspirations~Ode To Nottingham~


Nottingham I admire thee
With misty milky moody morns
Azure autumnal graces
November nights and lunar lights
Drenching the silent chocolate rooftops
 in silver spaces
Twinkling torches filling the valley
Steadfast soldiers of peace
With the ‘Ye Olde Inns and Laces
Castles and medieval places
Nottingham I admire Thee
Nottingham I admire thy
passively aggressive antiquity
Thy mingling mighty majesty in modernity
Dare defying love of Humanism
Oh Nottingham keeper of culture and traditions
Knowledge wisdom and superstitions
Where myths ghosts and mysteries are understood
                                       Ah still so solid Robin Hood
When war is Life and terror emotions
I find thee peaceful with people of many nations
Nottingham I admire Thee;
Nottingham I admire Thee,
       For the heart of a city must have a reason
    Though winds may blow in cold sweetness
             There maybe dichotomy of weather in every season
Learning courage and strength abide
When ministers of death in terror plunder the world
Royalty nobility chivalry are shaken
Walking through parks or old cobbled streets
I am not mistaken a whisper of Byron and Lawrence I hear
Amongst tinkling merry making ;
 in silence spoken;
Nottingham I admire Thee;



Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Baker Street Inspirations~ Old Harley! Where art Thou?



Where art thou? With All Thy Grace and Treat

Where evening cool breeze would gently sweep

And the open spaces would be free and neat;

Where I learned to ride the bicycle and Greet

My friends who came out to meet-

Ah Harley Street! where art thou?

With memories sweet-

This same road where bell tingling tongas
With strong horses and shining leather reins

Would lift the learning loads and stay on the beat-

At that time, this same road was all for residents

No sounds, not even an innocent lambs bleat.

Ah Harley Street! where art thou?

So defiant in dilapidated defeat!-

YOU seem to be there still serving in retreat-

Though gone is the tar rubble crush and concrete;

AH Harley Street . All is not lost.

Courage never to submit or yield-

YOU have the BEST on YOU

YOU are replete with –Institutes of Education

Tuition Guidance and Dedication- But AH there’s the rub-

The cuts craters humps and dilapidation-

OH Lord, what are WE learning and teaching

in this precarious condition? That is the question-

Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer,
the slings and jumps of outrageous travel

The heart aches, thousand natural shocks

that the flesh is heir to-

Or to take arms against oceans of ditchy trouble

...err...err..err. rubble-

And by appealing begging imploring ,

“Please Sir , may we have some more” AH NO!

Or by opposing clean sweep them….

Who would bear the whips and scorns of time immemorial

The laws delay, the repairs astray, the rains decay ;

 AH SILENCE!

Do we continue to grunt and sweat under a weary life?

Or has conscience made cowards of us all?

AH Harley Street! IF ONLY YOU COULD SPEAK!!!

OH Fair Poetess, soft you now , Ah There’s The Bump..OUCH…!

Oh Oh  Cantonment…’Who’s There?