~ For Bluebell Books Twitter Club ~ Short Story Slam Week 35, Dec 17 to Jan 10, 2016 ~ The Winds Caress

Oblivious of all the innocent killing, endless pain, frightening fear  they sat quietly on the ground in a circle, they had returned to the saddened village after placing tiny bodies in deep dug out ditches, burying the giggles and the smiles,burying the laughter and the joy, burying roses just blossomed, the logs in the center were dying too, flames turning into small glowing pieces half ash and half wood, and then a voice was heard...the voice peaceful and low, the voice calm and patient, though the heart and spirit laden with grief, yet...yet, these moment must come...and so the voice said...

'I see Gods Love
in softly  flowing  clouds
soaked in moist softness
in mellifluous notes
seeped in the wind
in the twinkling shine
of the smiling eyes;

I feel Gods Love
in the tender touch 
of the wind’s caress,
in the rustling of the
blossoming tree's dress
in the chirpy twitter of
the morning bird’s address.

I hear Gods love
in the  friend’s silent voice 
in the  rhythm of the rain 
as it must gently descend,
in the changing leafy waves 
as Fall begins, winter appears
and life and breath comes to an end.

For Bluebell Books Twitter Club ~ Short Story Slam Week 34, Dec 3 to Dec 20, 2015 ~ The JourneyThe Snowfall and Home Sweet Home -An Incident from 'A Hill Station That Was 2015

     Graduation Exam over, I was ready to go home…to 12 Kakul Road Abbottabad. 
Uncle took me to the GTS Bus Stand in Saddar Rawalpindi. G for government T for transport and S for service just a reminder of the good old GTS days...GTS had good buses then and one could travel to cities like Peshawar Abbottabad Lahore, comfortably.
 Uncle bought my ticket and I stepped into the bus…I was travelling alone. ‘Are you OK ? ‘Yes I said.I felt like the great experienced traveler the brave lone ranger with not a  mask, but a hood, I was confident because for four long years I had been using the public transport..’the Omni Bus’the 40 seater long bus’  to go to college and return home, er.. safely…there was peace in the city... Rawalpindi was a city of great peace, peace of environment peace of heart and soul...
           Imagine we went to college in a double decker public service omni bus from Tench Bhata 22 No Chungi  to Murree Road to the Government College for Women…now Murree Road has the ‘Metro Bus’. The city had its time of protests and disturbances but never any terror or bomb threats…and so when the bus driver took his seat Uncle wished ‘khuda Hafiz…I will give a ring to Father and let him know that you are on your way’ and I smiled back….
         No fear of ‘ghosts’ nor witches’ nor unseen beings following secretly eh?…’ Uncle Rehman Zafar was the great loving Uncle who used to tell us stories about Dracula and he also opened the boundless twinkling star filled skies and while lying on a bare charpouy, we would fly in our nightly visitations, in our minds through our eyes, as if on the star trek ship..identifying and spotting constellations…galaxies groups  all over the bejeweled canopy amazed and wonder struck at the miraculous creation …
        The bus slowly rolled out from the Grand Stand and was soon on the Mall from there on it was moving towards Taxila Wah then towards Hasanabdal from where it would turn right towards Haripur and reaching Havelian would make the final uphill five miles to Abbottabad. 
      The bus crossed the Havelian bridge and slowly kept on gathering all the power it could…it was cold…and I felt that the atmosphere getting colder…what is this..raindrops…? drops of water were  sliding on the small glass windows...it is raining  here I thought as I looked around….on and on..up now into the mountains,turning and turning again,into more forest area as the road winded ahead…and lo! as the bus crossed the first high turn…it went straight into a beautiful snowfall...Subhaan Allah...
          It was the most wonderous sight I had ever seen…snow falling all around…everything was white…the hills trees and the roofs of the houses, the wipers on the  windscreen of the bus  were swishing left and right…Oh Allahji what beauty nature revealed …it was amazing and then…the bus had reached the Abbottabad GTS stand and as I stared, amazed excited and strangely happy…I saw Father standing there in full army uniform, with a Duffle coat on his shoulders…Masha allah how smart he looked, always, he had come straight from the hospital office..in his official army jeepster. The bus stopped and I got down and was soon inside the jeep, feeling warm safe and comfortable. It continued to snow...Life is a journey, one has to go through rain or hail or falling snow,just like the bus...it had to receive the snow feel the cold,keep moving steadily to reach its destination...
        Father took the wheel of the jeep..and through the snowfall we headed home…12 Kakul Road….beautiful peaceful cool home, an unforgettable home...sweet home...May there be countless safe comfortable and enough sweet homes for all who are seeking them,all who are on a journey ,out in the cold of the world....amen.

For Poetry Pantry # 278 ~ POETS UNITED ~ Islamabad' Sends Peace To All ~

Be it Paris NY  Beirut Peshawar or Islamabad

or any other town village or city in the world

when people can walk talk eat or drive with ease 

beauty rests stays prevails, but only with peace

Just like I see you green, manifesting majesty

at the foot of Margalla Hills, so others see, that

are home to them,  nations of the world who

live, breathe, and fly freedom flags unfurled

let all be within their own beloved  land

green colorful peaceful and grand

Oh My City Dear, send full peace everywhere

we all live on one Earth, planet created

for us all, let us not be oblivious nor close 

our eyes, time flies, life dies, 

save All,

forgive All

Truth will triumph not Lies

Come peace peace peace for All

Spread strong covers 

let Light shine bright, tranquility descend

remove all dislike, drench all anger 

drown all hate,

Let Goodwill stand tall.

 . 

Peace Now ~ Make A Vow ~ Remember ?

Melodies begin music flows the heart warms as love grows

smiles beam on all  faces as people collect in small places

some moments together we sit to share, soon time will not spare

so let us be peaceful and enjoy, comfort each other and care

who rules what place what land,what difference does it make

don't you have your own freedom, your way, your own land?

if all humanity alike,women and children just different names

all were guided the same, one home, played the same games

what lessons from previous wars do  we remember, be it

Chawinda, D Day Waterloo   or 6th of  September 

nothing did we gain but death destruction downfall and pain

killing each other, unknown strangers again again and again;

and so many think and talk and speak and call for peace 

and write and write essays stories and poems for peace

but still produce gather and buy weapons bombs and guns

each moment each hour lose life families and loving sons

I am no princess nor a peasant just a simple human,now

seeing blood and death , I pray peace , real peace now 

lets now make a vow, along with the candles and bouquets 

lets all try, put down the rifles and guns,call back the jets, 

Try to end all conflict,live and let live, end all strife

you can call back the tanks and troops, but you cannot

ever ever ever call back.....a life' 

For ~ Bluebell Books Twitter Club ~ Short Story Slam Week 33 ~ The Epic Domestic Terror Episode ~

Not fierce Othello in so loud a strain... did shouts, screams and squeals reach my auditory system as I am jolted out of my engrossed state while trying to gather the mock epic characteristics of Alexander Pope's famous Rape of the Lock? I had slumbered into the upper class aristocratic society of the 18th century England at my writing table, waltzing into a world of lacy frilly gowns curly wigs and coat tails; violas and violins...

This music crept by me... no tis gone, mingled with Shakespearean expressions, no it comes again... the winds did sing it to me the name of...

"Mother, Mother,” loud cries resound over the staircase raising a tempest rushing into the calm seas of the lounge where I am trying to memorise the heroic couplets... exam in English literature, but alas! These precious moments must fade...

“Its moving, its moving," My six-year-old daughter, frail and skinny in physique but so sharp in sound, is now standing straight on the sofa chair with her eyes fixed at the corner of the ceiling. I just manage to see my teenage daughter hastily gather her legs, trembling, reclining, on the other side of the sofa. Gracefully majestically, the lithe movement is discovered to be of none other than the queen of reptiles, a common but unwelcome visitor, the innocent looking domestic lizard.

“Slight is the subject but not so the praise. O Cleo muse, descend and raise in me, the courage... never to yield.” I sing a praise for the muse of history, maybe I am about to create history... Behold! With daring but careful steps I descend the staircase feeling no less than Cleopatra... But oh there is a job to be done. Save the two damsels in distress... er... I mean the two human beings now perched on the sofa and settee respectively...

I gather my thoughts as I descend. I know where to reach for the long and deadly instrument which in times of peace is used to demolish the labors of the industrious spider... er... I mean “the broom”, now placed behind the kitchen door. The kitchen situated in one corner of the lounge is easy to approach and soon I have laid hold of the epic weapon. Thus armed like Achilles out to rout an enemy I raise the broom, just then my gallant knight in armour, Prince Charming appears in the doorway of his chamber. “How now Mother dear? What in the world is Alexander the Great attacking?"

“Shhh,” I caution him. "You will scare the enemy away." There should be complete silence. My son smiles he knows. The enemy has been recognized.

"Mom let me face the challenge. Oh boy! Er... I mean Oh Lord how I have waited for this day! At last the time has come. Mom wish me luck! Pray! Sacrifice something to the Gods." What a heavenly sight! What black eyes! Darting lashing tail... It is waiting to kill its own prey. How the hunter becomes the hunted, the fragile lucid trembling moth sticking beside the illuminated fluorescent tube, stealthily now. Tension is greater than the  War situation, but luckily no oil slicks, just dry open challenge, physical courage bespeaks moral courage.

Thin lanky Prince Don lunges forward. Up goes the broom, victory is within sight, doubt not the guile of your foe but with deliberate valour breathe, move, swish. My hero heaves the long handle, as the princesses sit stiff and breathless, lest the creature of the other world would fall on their heads... eyes fixed super glued to the ceiling... but as if it felt the movement of the missile in the air, sensing the invasion to take place, dangerously flipping quivering the earthly creepy creature flurries across the creamy plastic emulsioned vast expanse and evaporates into thin air. The heroic spear which seemed taller than the largest pine on the Norwegian mountains loomed across the ethereal plain, narrowly missing the hoisted chandelier; amidst further screams and squeals. Down flumps the tragic hero followed by a thunderous volley of multi coloured pencils which stand at grand attention with grace and dignity in a used diet coke container on the top shelf of the book rack.

Victory was ours as the evil queen has been defeated and dethroned out of the sacred home sweet home... though she makes her slithering exit through a crevice in the wall. Up rises Don, smiling from the heap, a conqueror in the field where the books, like carcasses of the Memphian army in the Red Sea, lie thick bestrewn... Upright he stands and so speaks, "princesses delicate and brave! Lo behold (with courage never to submit or yield, to be weak is miserable. Awake arise, the enemy has slipped... er... has been killed!”

The breaths of the princesses thus restored, my prince with uneasy steps emerges so victorious, beaming as mama puts a laurel bough of her loving arms around the slightly bent neck. Peace and harmony prevails as life returns to normal. I survey the battlefield. Books scattered, dust all around, tumbled cups, each item will have to be carefully picked up in the area to be cleared soon, the reality of the housework.

But nothing in the world will equal or even match the united force of the love and laughter we had all joined in to retrieve the treasures so dropped. Till late, the episode was narrated with all the suspense and excitement, fun and laughter seemed to burst the seams as the heroic act was remembered time and again. Much as the family life is filled with hardships, trials, tribulations, struggles and moments when all seems lost... these moments of childish apprehensions sudden drama fill the hearts and souls with everlasting joys and a strange comforting satisfaction... we were in it together.
Thank you  O Almighty  Most Gracious for giving us loving parents who taught us the true values of a happy life.

For POETS UNITED ~ Midweek Motif ~ Tranquility ~ Tranquility is Divine ~

Tranquility is Divine 

It cannot be found in a line

of roses guarded by thorns nor in a forest

replete with trees, and then

If I were a leaf ,tender would be the twig

unstable would be the branch,

swinging to and fro with the breeze,

tense in breath fragile in heart,on a pine

graceful and tall,one day would be 

The Fall

Tranquility is Divine

Tranquility is Divine

neither yours nor mine

in water sailing, flying in the sky

freely gathering  hail and snow

in the clouds up and down 

thick and thin light and dark,as they

go-yet obedient to  command 

to shade and cool to flood and flush

to pour life in living things

as they try to grow

Tranquility is Divine

in celestial spaces in starry graces

floating in distances ordained, 

staying within bounds

keeping eternal rounds

in time and light,reflected

to entertain and guide

glittering twinkling what joy

they bring,breaking the darkness

within,in silence they shine

away and far from the ground

II

Tranquility

then is in every breath

in every soul spirit on Earth

on every star sun or galaxy

a name for peace and ataraxy


Now we know it is but peace

calmness silence and serenity


it is in motion slow n steady

planned focused in regularity

it is in patience 'n simplicity

in grace n mercy n generosity

it is giving n serving the needy




why do we seek it then is the question

why there is love less and killing more

we ourselves have made a hatred galore

principles of good life we always ignore

Seeking Peace ~ Peace Please Come ~ Like A Rainbow

https://walkingtowardspeace.wordpress.com/2015/11/02/peace-please-come-like-a-rainbow/

Peace Series ~ Seeking Peace ~~ Peace With Father ~

I still recall the moments

when I sat up in bed,I was crying

for how long? I do not know,no one came

for quite some time, perhaps because it was

in the late hours of  night-

I was hardly four or five

playing more and eating less-

I was crying for food

I guess…

and then he was by my side-

Father sat patted and said

,’what’s the matter dear?

is it something that you fear?

Its not the cold nor heat nor pain,

its hunger you need something to eat…

And so I still feel the taste so sweet

delicious to the root,full juicy was the

tinned mixed fruit…

Father opened the can right there

made me eat with love and care

what else so ready could he get,as

I felt hungry in the middle of the night…

No sooner had I eaten

when all tears were forgotten

I was overtaken by peace

and fell off into a very deep sleep.

Signature For Peace

https://walkingtowardspeace.wordpress.com/2015/10/12/signature-for-peace/

For ~ Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Teacher, One Who Teaches ~ If I Am A Teacher '

If I am a Teacher

One who teaches-

My walk and talk should show

My vision of where to go

In the future-

My work should prove

My mission to improve

The learners

The beginners

The misled

Good;

I believe that our spirits

are not yet dead;

Just at moments odd I feel

Have I failed

The Message

To reveal?

The mist still floats 

At times with the breeze

Descends amidst the trees

Is it here to stay

Or is it to warn us

Of The Way?

Series ~ Seeking Peace ~ Peace Is Not In A Crystal Jar ~

It may shine sparkle and tinkle

make you smile with each look

how much did it cost how much

did you pay, just to smile and say

to the silent ‘unravished glass’-what

makes you shine? what myriads of

dust particles you hold as treasure?

what skillful hands gave you your shape

and made you so grand?

But fear engulfs me when I touch you

how smooth and firm and yet so fragile

you are- a  careless slip and transformed

you are, in  a thousand pieces,scattered

the eyes make crystals as they too join them

O Thou reflector of transparency,mirroring

life, seeing through the thin veil…unlike the flesh

feeling less, what beauty lies within the cold glass

None’ but vacant emptiness…momentary pleasure

one glance chance …what scars of life you show

No color ,,,for colors bring joy and joy brings peace

Look away, it is not here, I will break soon and not

shine, stay away for in my cuts and beauty lies

deathlike blood…

Pray do not love me nor place me high

but look at the stars that shine in the sky

There is truth up there….where there is truth

seek true peace…there..

Peace is not in a crystal jar….

Series ~ Seeking Peace ~Walking On Land I Felt ~

Walking on land I felt the need to hold

onto some bar to tip toe across the discolored

spread flowing from afar, not a stream but just a flow

Walking on land I felt the need to place

a piece of cloth against my nose,to block the pungent smell

rising from the flow, one cannot tell from where else…

Walking on land I felt the need to look down lest

I bumped my foot and fell like a clown

and spoil my washed dress and safely kept shoes

but walking on this land I knew who made it so

full of mud and stones and filth, perhaps it was the same

bag I had thrown or handed over to the dustboy ‘kooray wala’

or many people drink the same tea brand as I,eat the same

biscuits and bread-who can say who spread the onion and

potato peels…

then one day I walked on another land among the trees

on a hillside where pine trees stood tall,so graceful and green

and clean,the pine needles were all over the place, serene

and neat and smelling pleasantly sweet…

and as I walked I felt the quiet and the peace…

FOR ~ SEPIA SATURDAY 284 ~ 20TH JUNE 2015 ~ Type Writer Fascination and Unforgettable Surprise Gifts ~

I finally found this photograph and so here is my contribution for SEPIA SATURDAY

 I was told that 'articles had to be typed' (in the 1970s) to be valid for submission to local newspapers and magazines so I started looking for a type writer ...computers were hidden somewhere in fog and mist, then I also discovered that the price  was much more than my small budget,still my love of writing kept up my morale.Long Live The Love of Parents...my father knowing my hearts desire gave me the most wonderful unforgettable surprise of my life ,when he asked me to come over..'I have something for you' and that was never ending till the last day of his life.He always had a pocketful of the most lovable gifts something we had just mentioned ...and so it was this..a beautiful Olympia typewriter with a sleek black elegant cover. 

    My articles were accepted from then on....Thank you Father for setting and supporting me on the writing journey...It was all because of your love

    In the photograph my grandchildren are enjoying the writing instrument,excited by the sounds the ticking and the tapping and the thrill of moving the page set...a useful past time when electricity is off for long hours...going back in time but these inventions are precious.

For POETS UNITED ~ Midweek Motif ~ Recovery/Healing ~ Mother, I Saw You' ~

Exhausted,after surgery, half dead unthinking sleepy
 fuzzy mind, surrendering to other hands, eyes  and knives, busy on my clayey  lodgings, removing what lay inside, a life, to give lives unseen unknown, 
obeying the Divine Creator, creating motherhood-

My eyes only saw eyes,reflecting sympathy concern, care,Chosen by The Supreme to help me live, a little more, someone needs my share of love, a little more,
 a duty for me is still to be done, and I have to be 
with one who stands beside-

a smile, a gloved hand, a voice soft, a heart learning for years, how to cure, now ready for sure, more friends than real friends ashore-

Why I keep forgetting the face?
I see the vision, the presence, the grace;
Mother, its you I see, I feel in her, she touched, 
cleaned, cut and stitched, 
came again and again and again,
when I was stiff and senseless in pain-

I felt a hand,and heard a voice, 'twenty minutes more it said,a voice…calm, a look angel like…
fear left me, then there was peace,
 I felt a hand on my forehead-

Mother is it you?  with me here...
She smiled,  peaceful oblivion engulfed-
Yes, Mother was there…
All the time, with love and prayer.

~ Peace Can Come ~

Darkness cut  second by second

time ticks away ignorance

each day dawns with light spread

making birds flutter fly and dance

light rises in majestic style

shining for all in Holy silence

no grumble roar or distortion

elegance royal crown golden

in this peace so peaceful morn

why then the day is torn

with strife n struggle hate born

with peace that rises so strong?

wither peace that rises so bright?

after the dark and criminal night-

everyday we have the golden light

tis mans loss -lost is the fight-

Stay O Golden Light

Keep the Peace so pure

and bright-remove the hate

the darkness tight-

Stay O Light Only You

can help us win the fight...

Peace is right peace can come...

~Shattered Peace in Peaceful Time ~

By the blue,

curling in rolling in and rolling back

Like tiny serpents creeping up

 with stings poised

Pulled back to unseen depths

Golden myriads glistened 

as in sunlight life lay

Bathing basking relaxing-

There is enough time !

Delicately exposed yearning for the tan

Tender petal like still,  unaware lying

Ready bait for the brutal mind

It is My Time !

And from the  shade , came not the coolness

But hot fire,blistering bodies in the sand

Not shielding from the sun-

Life so stilled  as 

Hot bullets rained sprayed from the gun

Then, 

there was no time’ 

Then 

there was no time’.

~ Awakened Are We To The Desires Forbidden ~

What bravery whither courage 

what defiance Trojan like, 

nor wisdom of Odysseus, 

to bear  an ordeal, an odyssey,

 to attain pardon-

Asleep are we on the fires unlit, 

fires which we should kindle; 

True faith made seven sleepers sleep

For years for a purpose, ours is now

A   purposeless sleep, existence sunk-

Asleep we are as Lagan’ buried,

 in oblivion drunk, cold to The Call

warm to the Dark Chieftain, 

singing swinging in fatal pleasure,

 fiery and crimson,

 unaware of the deadly apian;

Awakened  we are or in Lethe dipped

 will our souls  repair, our spirit slipped

our bodies clipped, be the pure sound 

or be forever like Promethean bound?

Awakened are we to desires forbidden….