There is this place
It’s called Palestine
It used to be pretty
And peaceful and lively
The people lived as they do
Everywhere else.

Then there came to be this place
It’s called Israel
Which is basically Palestine
But mercilessly occupied
It attacked Palestine
And took over most of its land.

So now in Palestine
Or what’s left of it
Where there used to be quaint houses
There’s just a lot of rubble
With broken and burnt doors, utensils and limbs
Jutting out from underneath.

Where there used to be bright smiles
That could light up the world
There now are tears,
burn marks and bloodied cuts
That can rend any human heart
Except those that are not human.

It is a war, not between states
Not between races, nor between fates
Nay, this is a bigger war, one of faith
At least, that is how it started
But now, it is between
human and non-human.

Tell me, please
Is it human to **** innocent people
For the sake of self, and the sake of  hate?
Is it human then also, to remain quiet
And watch such tyranny be?
It must also be human, to  point guns at 4 year olds.

And by this definition,
Humans of this world, humans that feel
Are not humans at all, because they care
And those that don’t, well
They’re humans at their prime
The most evolved of them all.

Israel, I salute you, a salute full of mock
At your utter humanity, and benevolence
Your bombs when they land
With the cheers of your people,
And your guns when they point
At 4-year old terrorists; surely they can ****.

Palestine, I stand with you, sincerely
Your children, your people, your land and your peace
Are my children, my people, my land and my peace
Their bombs when they land, make my prayers fiercer
Their guns when they shoot, make my eyes water
But know this, Palestinians, we are one.

So when they shoot you, I bleed
And when they bomb you, I ache
When they hurt you, I feel the pain
And when you cry for help, I pray
We are blood, we are one body
We are the Ummah, we will rise.

Until then we pray, we pray and we try
Dear Palestine, stay strong, stay firm…
Help shall come, in ways unimaginable
Do not weaken, and do not grieve
You will overcome them, if you are true believers
Allah has promised, and His promise he upholds.

~Moniba.

Naive little waterdrops never knew
What they were, what they could do
Upon their downfall they saw the sun
The sun shone bright and magic spun
A band of colours poured from the drops
Exquisite scenery high above the crops
Bright old sun had till then just burned
It saw then the rainbow the drops had churned
It saw its own reflection in the colours that appeared
It saw itself caring when it had never cared
It made the water shine when it fell from its height
It showed the drops too their very own might
Dear old sun makes rainbows everyday
It still burns and still makes the drops gay
The water never fears and takes on the fates
As long as the sun shines, a rainbow awaits.

What do you do
When your heart yearns for one thing
And your brain wants another?
You listen a little bit to both.
But what do you do
When it is your heart that is in dispute
A half wants one thing
And the other wants another
Is it better to do then neither
Or is it better to mute them both
And listen to the conscience?

What do you do
When your conscience goes to war
With your heart and your mind?
You listen to the majority.
But what do you do
When you know the minority to be true
Because in fact, the heart is forever
In love with the conscience.
It is the mind, the mind it is
That tricks the heart
Into believing that
It is in quarrel with the conscience.

So what do you do, really?
You be a good human
And listen to the conscience.

~Moniba.

A triangle
starts at a point
goes toward
two other points.
But who's to say
it doesn't begin
at two points
which meet
at one point?

A solitary tear
trickled down
her waiting cheeks.

A solitary sigh
escaped from within
her restrained lungs.

She fantasized.

A solitary thought
circled tirelessly
her fading peace.

A solitary prayer
escaped from within
her restless heart.

She endured.

A solitary wish
disturbed greatly
her beauty sleep.

A solitary memory
escaped from within
her buried past.

She stayed awake.

~ Moniba.

The little girl clutched her balloon tightly
Careful not to let it go.
She loved it and wanted it to stay with her
Forever.
Alas, she clutched too tightly,
The balloon flew up to the ceiling of the room.
Horrified, she looked. Determined, she climbed
One height to another, to get her balloon.
Stretching her tiny hands out, she reached the string.
And just when she had it, she fell.
From height to floor she fell
Hurting her fragile frame.
The balloon in her hand, she braved the fall.
And just when she smiled
The sweet smile of success
Her balloon burst.
Her face fell.
The child grew up.

~Moniba.

Grandma with her crooked fingers
Told me all her secrets
She could not speak, she could not hear
Her fingers spoke, her eyes heard all

Grandma with her crooked fingers
Told me to always walk straight
Crooked things she said are bad
Unless they're crooked body parts

Grandma with her crooked fingers
Told me to always speak straight
Crooked words she said plant doubts
Unless they're crooked with natural fault

Grandma with her crooked fingers
Told me to always work straight
Crooked ways she said dig graves
Unless they're crooked by form

Grandma with her crooked fingers
Told me how to live a life-
With her crooked ways and crooked words;
In a not-so-crooked manner

~Moniba.

The golden leaves, ardent in their sheen and whisper
Their slender stems, crisp in their sway and grain
The long branches, graced by gold, hazed by willowy pulchritude
The trunk, straight, firm and glistening, exalting the golden
The  hidden, outreaching roots, left to imagination

Suppose the tree is life, its leaves our time
Each falling in its own momentum.
Suppose the stems are relations, and the branches emotions
Golden, brilliant, each prevailing over the other.
Suppose the trunk is purpose, and the roots your belief
The trunk firm, exalting your life; the roots hidden but obvious to the light.
The golden tree for your golden life.

~Moniba.

A million twinkling stars
On a purple-grey sky.
A million strands of grass
On a wet brown land.
A million mites of dust
In the air I breathe.
A million specks of rust
On the bench in front.
A million rays of light
From the lamp-post proud.
A million dreams in sight
In the overwhelming crowd.
~Moniba.

Carefully, she placed each brick
Built the walls, fixed the gates
Locked the latch, hid the keys.

Nervously, she touched her heart
She put the keys, where they belonged
To tear her walls, you need her heart.

In her heart, below the trust
Beside her love, lies the key
You get the key, you get the rest.

Find the key, pick the latch
Open the gates, tear the walls
And destroy the carefully placed bricks.

~Moniba.

In the sky of my mind
Echoed the winds of longing
I silenced the noise
And listened to sweet nostalgia
Nostalgia's song tasted like
Honey, tartar and rose petals
Smoke rose from each petal
Forming clouds in the sky of my mind
The winds of longing blew harsh
Each petrous note of nostalgia piercing the clouds
And hence came the downpour
Of suns that set too soon
And suns that never rose
Of moons that never were full
And stars with frozen winks
Of galaxies with uncharted maps
And of rainbows with colours gone rogue
But when all was done, and the downpour abated
The barren ground sparkled
With the suns and moons and stars
And galaxies and rainbows
Which once saddened the sky
And now adorned the ground
The winds settled to a merry tune of serenity
And the sky of my mind smiled at the beauty below.

When colours collect dust
And words are concealed
When beauty is shaded
And the clouds are heavy grey

When a path leading to gardens
Becomes one going to graves
And when flowers turned to gold
Are crushed underneath feet

When diamonds cut to perfection
Join the coal once more
And the gold and the jewels
Are met by graves on hills

The world becomes sinister
People deprived of passion
All words and colours twisted
Into an attractive storm…

The human is a whole and the whole is in parts
The whole is for God and for you it is in quarts
A quarter you can keep, and the rest give away
The half and the quarter that are left mustn't stay
The half you should save for your better part
So that leaves a quarter for me and my heart

What makes me believe I'm your quarter, you ask
Well something has to account for
Those half unfinished sentences finished by me
Those half erupted laughters joined by me
Those half-hearted secrets whispered to me
And those half eaten rolls and the half drunk juice

You see, I deserve a half but I'll settle with a quart
Because, well I just remembered the 20 rupee note
And the 2rupees returned ignited in me
The generosity you may expect only from your Quart.

Yes,
       It shall test you, it shall challenge you.
It shall tire and frustrate you.
       It shall stretch you, it shall wring you.
It shall dismay and disturb you.

       But remember darling,
       It shall reward you, help you grow.
It shall afford you your dreams.
       It shall indeed taste sweet in the end.
It shall bring you to me and me to you.

       And sweetheart,
       If it tests you, you have the strength.
You have the wit, the fire in you.
       If it stretches you, you always have a home.
You have me, and in me, all the space.

       My love,
       Take me- I am your bed and blanket.
I am your storm and rain, your breeze.
       The spark to your fire, the water to put it out.
I am your home- come live in me.

I remember the day we met, I remember it clear as day
I can trace my joy back to it , the way I trace the lines on your palm
I can feel the early moments still, like I feel you next to me in bed
I hear your early serenades coast over my senses, the way your hands caressed my face this morn

I remember the night of rain, the one which drenched our soul with love
I can trace my joy back to it, the way I hugged you under the moonlight breeze
I can feel your warm embrace still, like I feel you inside my heart, I gaze at the stars, they form an exceptional constellation depicting our name, we're written in the heavens
I look into your eyes from distance, and I see myself, the way the immortal sky sees itself in the majestic ocean

I remember the eve of sorrow, which brought a tornado in our lives
I remember it like I remember the day the skies settled for us, and the clouds cushioned our fall
I can trace my joy back to that sorrow, the way I trace your jawline, with kisses all the way
I can feel the rush of happy tears now, as I reminisce the tears I witnessed in your eyes, the day I got to hold you close
I remember the eve of sorrow, I remember it like the way you kissed my cheek an hour ago
I feel the tingle of your touch every time, the way I felt that first time, on the dewy eve, as it solidified into our forever

Black crows, circling the sky
Beneath dark clouds, alone they fly

Coconut trees, with lush green blades
Swaying leaves, and trunks with plaids

Gravel, marked with tire tracks and stones
Footsteps strange and familiar it owns

Along the road, a light turns on
A swing set, a porch seat, a life is born

And here sits the poet, watching with awe
Looking with her pen, writing what she saw

~Moniba.

I take out my old pen
And begin to write to you
Scribbling, pausing, wavering
Of us, and life, and time, and us.

I dip my pen in fairy dust
And write to you
A message
Of two seas meeting, and two breaths mingling,

I dip my pen in time
And write to you
A song
Of slow minutes, long hours, quick heartbeats

I dip my pen in tar
And write to you
An elegy
Of raging pasts and lingering remorse

I dip my pen in water
And write to you
A scroll full
Of doubts and worries;  headless snakes

I dip my pen in blood
And write to you
A promise
Of forever and always

I put my pen away
And sit back, sigh deep, rocking gently
I sign my words in kisses
And cross my heart to you.

I have betrayed your trust.
You know.
Yet you say nothing.
The silence in your eyes says it all.
They’re always so animate.
Not today.
They’re blank, shielded, silent.
Do you remember, I told you…
That I hate silence?
It leaves so much unspoken.
It leaves such heavy dents.
Even though…
It weighs nothing.
But its nothingness weighs a lot.
It cuts. It strikes. It burns.
It is cold. Icy.

Remember the years we spent so close?
That was comfortable.
Our silences were warm.
They spoke.
They left nothing unsaid.
They were light. And liquid.
I loved them. They were cosy.
They exuded sincerity.
Animate silences. Expressive silences.

But I've betrayed your trust.
And this silence hangs between us.
It is cold, and it slaps me in the face.
It seeps into my veins.
It reminds me of what I did.
It rebukes me.
It lets me punish myself.
It speaks. Of betrayal. Of lies, of secrecy.
Of things left unsaid.
Of broken promises.
Our shattered trust.
Of blackened tar and burnt coal.
Of stained hands and glassy eyes.
Of smeared dirt and crushed diamonds.
Of torn clothes and broken needles.

It speaks. It is silent.
It speaks. It is trust.
It speaks. It is betrayal.
It speaks. It is sin.
It speaks. It is black.

Your eyes are silent.

Whoosh goes the sound of wind
Pitter patter for the rain
Chitter chatter go the words
And blank goes silence.

Crack goes the gun, boom goes the bomb
Chaos of war and mayhem for lives
But there, two doves chirping concord
The sound of peace - after war.

The bubbly sound of bliss
The silent trip of tears
The wailing noise of mental war
The depressing silence of misery.

Look how they complement each other
The light balances the dark
The dark gives way to light
Same goes for everything.

They’re companions, they hold hands
With one comes the other
With the other comes the one
And life happens when they embrace.

I stop to think a while
And then I realize…
Running away never helps
We humans, we
Like to complicate everything
If something disturbs me
I should just admit it
And deal with it
Accordingly

So I went back to sleep
I dreamt again
I dreamt of the past, the present, and future
I dreamt of monsters, dead and alive
I dreamt of birds, and kites and hives
I dreamt of people
Ones I knew and know
And even those I have yet to meet

I dreamt of dreams and reality
I dreamt, and dreamt
Peacefully
I knew now that
It was okay to dream
It was okay to feel
It was okay to want
It was okay to be

I learned to stop
Stop being so harsh
On my own self
I learned to accept
Finally
My own reality
And that it was okay to just be
The way I am…

A nobody is
a person
of no importance.
But you, my dear
are important to me
as you always shall be.

So if you're anything
you're not a nobody.

But if you insist
on being
a nobody,
well then
I'll humour you.

And say
you're a nobody.

But allow me
to elaborate.

You are a nobody
bent on being
a somebody.
And the only thing
stopping you
from being
Somebody,
is nobody.

And hence,
we deduce,
that you
are a nobody
that is a
somebody.

Beautiful albeit damaged
by life.
Strong albeit afraid
of yourself.
Strange albeit familiar
to me.
And very
Extraordinary.

Yes, you're a nobody.

~Moniba.

As the night falls dark, my heart beats hard,
for without you, love,
the demons are free to feast upon me

Come you and your sword,
come you and your strength,
come you and shield me,
from demons around and demons about,
from demons that feast upon me

As the sun sank deep,
and the stars shone bright,
the moon became sinister
and the demons were let out the night before

Came you with your vorpal sword,
loved me and kept all harm away,
the sun came back, the stars smiled,
the moon grew gentle,
and the demons turned angels

But tonight, my love, the demons are free to feast upon me.
Come you and take me away, I cry...
Come you, and bring the sun again.
Come you, and shoo the demons away.
Come you and kiss these tears dry.
Come you, oh. Come you, again.

Every time she sins
Her heart roars in protest
Every time she sins
It dies a little
Every time she sins
It bleeds a little
Every time she sins
She muffles its voice
Every time she sins
She pushes it under
Every time she sins
Her heart cries
And every single time
She wipes its tears
And persists.

there are black moons under your eyes
black streaks on your cheeks
black teeth marks on your lips
black wring marks on your neck
black scabs on your shoulders
black blood dried on your stomach
black dirt in your fingernails
black veins on your feet
you have a black soul
there's so much blackness
that i see nothing but light in you
nothing but light
you are an angel

The human is a whole and the whole is in parts
The whole is for God and for you it is in quarts
Because really a quart is all you need for yourself
I like to believe there's a quart missing in you
So that makes you a half and a quart
The half you should save for your future self
So that leaves a quarter for you and for me
What makes me believe i'm a quarter of you
Well that's easy, something has to account for
Those half unfinished sentences finished by me
Those half erupted laughters joined by me
Those half hearted secrets whispered to me
And those half eaten rolls and the half drunk juice
You see, I deserve a half but I'll settle with a quart
Because, well I just remembered the 20 rupee note
And the 2rupees returned ignited in me
The generosity you may expect only from your Quart.

The woods resounded with each thought in your mind
But the words were tripping over themselves
Like the ancient trees, their overreaching roots, deep underground
Like the canopies, so intertwined, no tree could claim ownership
Like those worms who made their homes everywhere, and lived everywhere, all at once

The woods resounded with each thought in your mind
But the words were unintelligible; hieroglyphic
Like those haunting sounds at night, when the insects crawl and cowardly predators prey
Like those etchings on beautiful trees, bearing a hundred year old story, be it love or revenge
Like those indiscernable twines of creepers, snakes and curly twigs; sly, deceiving, inviting

The woods resounded with each thought in your mind
But the words were just a mingle of whispers
Like the spider's sweet rumblings to the flies, invitations to his abode
Like the torturous immigration of winds, tree to tree, blade to blade, a shrill tune in its wake
Like the chantings of night fairies, wishing health and wealth and death and breath and everything, in hushed melody

The woods resounded with each thought in your mind
And I reached out, caressed the stringy trails, tripped over some, embraced the halo of your presence
And I let them struggle with me, smiling as if that was the essence of peace, and then inhaled the torturous wind
When I could breathe again, I recognized the words on that old banyan tree where you and I became immortal
All hail the homeless, the hieroglyphs, the whispers; and the woods spoke no more.

One two three four five
Once I caight a fish alive
It bit my finger, but my finger was alive
But I wasn't
I tried to get alive but I couldn't
Then I tried again
And then I realized that I am alive

~ Syed Faèz Ali

She said she liked uniting black and white.
To wash the black with the purity of white,
And to swipe the white with black, and make it invincible.
Once and for all.
I told her she was prejudiced.
That white wasn't pure, and black wasn't evil.
That they were colours that,
When united, make grey.

~Moniba.

" Seraph- An Angel associated with light and purity "

Gladdening the mundane woods, with her flickering flight
Mightier spark from her wand, pouring jewels of delight

Her essence solemnly inhaled by the opaqueness of the mist
Disappearing promptly into the unrevealed, compassionately renouncing her magical kiss

And the soulless abode, radiantly enlivens
Purified in recurrence, a tale ecstatically written

By Seraph!

Hey little girl…
Listen to me,
A mere belief, is all you need.

Hey little girl…
Do not despair,
For Allah is watching, and He is fair.

Hey little girl…
Be brave in this world,
For this is brief, and unreal.

Hey little girl…
Listen to me,
A mere belief, is all you need.

Let yourself believe,
And put forth your trust,
Give it what you can…
And then you’ll move mountains.

The world is full, the world is full, the world is full of What if’s.
What if we die? What if we cry? What if we live?
Will they be blithe? Will they be sad?
The world is full, the world is full, the world is full of what if’s!
What if we fail? What if we pass?
What if we don’t? What if we do?
The world is full, the world is full, the world is full of what if’s!
The truth be told, the world is full.
The world is full, of wishes and stitches,
Of expectations and explanations,
The world is full of What if’s!..

He feels the clouds envelop him
As he sails across the sky
He rows his boat into the new world
And waves this world goodbye
His best clothes on and new hat up
He lets out a triumphant cry
He gazes at the distant world
And then at the mackerel sky
He's up, he won, he defeated the world
All he had to do was try

Sometimes...
Normality is out of order.
Insanity seems to be needed.
At those times...
It seems better to let go
Of normality, and give in
To insanity.
But at later times...
Normality seems to have had been better
Than mastering insanity.
Because at aforementioned times...
Normality could have made the experience
Pleasurable, whereas insanity
Just made it temporarily enjoyable.
And then ruined the memory.
So at present time...
I favour normality.

Poison ivy covers the fences holding hedges of rose. Thorny roses with poisoned tips caress the lover's cheek. Blood mixes with the ivy, a bond to last. The rose's scent still makes the lover heedy and the thorns don't matter. The poison ivy does nothing to infuriate the lover. And love only blossoms, as the ivy climbs and the the roses sway.

There's this eagerness in her blood
A quickness in her breath
A pressure behind her eyes
A sea she cannot hold.

There's this agony in her pulse
A lost feeling in her chest
A blur in her sight
A flood she cannot control.

There's this promise in her thoughts
A past reminder in her will
A calmness in her wet eyes
An emotion she shall withhold.

~Moniba.

Where are you, he said
Her mind echoed the question
To her Self.

Where am I, she said
Her conscience echoed the question
To her heart.

Where am I, it said
Her heart echoed the question
To her Creator.

It’s funny, she thought
How an external question
Reaches *such intimate depths.

I know
What you want me to know
And I know
Nothing more than that

But I see
What I want to see
And I dwell
On a lot more than that

I hear
What you want me to
And I hear
That other part too

I think
What you want me to think
And I ponder
Upon a lot more than that

I believe
What I think is right
But I know
It is more than that

Cloaked in heavy shrouds
Covered in clingy doubts
Enveloped in dark grey clouds
Among those dizzy routes
Is the truth

Protected with locks of lies
Hidden from common view
The answer to all the whys
Cure for diseases too
Is the truth

A realists real reality
A distressed soul’s gateway to sanity
A confidantes vow to secrecy
The key to life of eternity
Is the truth

A tiny presence in the womb,
he listened to her voice
and fell in love
at first hearing.

He heard her and felt her
and tried not to hurt her,
and waited patiently
for nine whole months.
...
His happy days
began and ended
the day he breathed his first,
and his mother breathed her last.
...
The story of his life continued,
first love never forgotten,
second love never known,
third love never owned.
...
Beliefs, hopes and expectations
confused him as everything did,
he yearned and yearned to make ends meet
but never quite succeeded.

His dreams floated
in the river of his Future
where it met his Present
and passed his Past,
like unrequited love.
...
The boy deprived of love,
finally found love
when he stopped looking for it
in humans.

His dreams then ascended
from the river to the sky
and met with reality
colliding with bliss on its way.
...
Thus went the story of his life.

~Moniba.