Category: Prosem

To be, or not to be.Not to be, so to be. That presence that you made, unmade you.The walk you walked, walked you out.The wait you kept was a waste.The words you bled were on a paper already worthless. But then, we learn and unlearn through mistakes,Through trash, dust, noise and sighs.Some tears.Some bliss. So…

May I have your attention please?May I have your attention please? Those who brought Buzdar, brought Maryam.The hen that laid these two eggs is the same.Do we agree on that? Will the real Slim Shady please stand up?I repeat, will the real Slim Shady please stand up? One was an idiot and avoided the public…

May we feel their pain too. May we cry with them too. May we cry for them as well. May we boycott the inside culprits as hell. May we all be conscientious objectors. May there be a ceasefire in Balochistan forever.

Autumn descends.The fall. November falls. December rises. Less sunshine. More coldness. In talks. In walks. In memories. In contact.That’s usual because it’s outside. There is another fall.Beyond November and December. A fall that’s inside. And cannot be seen among the fallen leaves. But can be felt underfoot while walking on them. In a dark park.…

I make homes. I destroy homes too. But I have my home. My comfort zone. And while sitting in my zone.With all the accessories around me. Mine. Defined by me. Me, defined by them. Like your bed. And the bedsheet. And the attached bath. And the hanging towel. And the entire yours. The entire you.…

Welcome to the abyss! Before we shall be released. Or not. Who knows? But welcome, nonetheless, my fellow human! When I departed, I had a grin. But when I witnessed my funeral, I saw harsh gazes. Unusual inquiries and cruel remarks for me. Although I simply cut my wrist. Not someone else’s. I didn’t explode…

She can live, Without him. Like she did before, Without another him. And the one, Who is about to come. No one dies, When someone leaves. Parents survive, When the children grieve. And children divide, When the parents leave. The affairs evolve, And companions are swapped. Life partners are changed, While tracks in the park,…

Not an inch to claim.Not a soul to name.Not a breath to spare.Not a footing to share.The world revolves like a circus around.You reach the destination, no memory to be found.No people.No place. Because, There’s not an inch to claim.Some nod and get.Some wink and achieve.Some smile and have.Some point and reach.But, no. Not he.…

Through ups and downs Further down to pits From highs and lows Lower to the lowest From the misery of existence From the fear of oblivion From the old-world order to the new From sultanates to McDonaldization The questions are same The issues are same The pains are same The love is same The departure…