نامعلوم است منزلِ مقصودِ من،
فقط در راہِ سفر، روان و سرگردانم۔
گاهے می‌ایستم، گاہے خسته می‌شوم،
لیکن ہنوز در امیدِ رسیدن، نالانم۔

منزل بہ تأخیر است، مگر راہ باقی،
فکر می‌کنم کہ باید ہمیشہ روان باشم۔
منزل برسد یا نہ، کس دانَد؟
شاید این راہ رفتن، خود منزلِ جان باشد

धूल से उठे, धूल में समाएं,
आग के गोले पर, जीवन बिताएं।

सुख और दुख, साथ चलते,
समय के साथ, सबक मिलते।

न आरंभ, न अंत की बात,
रास्तों पर चलते, जीवन का साथ।

Giving up every Evening ….
But Start Again Every Morning …
Seasons come and go ….
All goes we remain ……

Before we start complaining…
Think about the worst things
Which  could happen to you….
Think about those
who cant see or write.
Let alone have hands to type.

The chef will always
Praise the food he cooks.

Love to Hate …..
Hate to Love ……

In this Era we live …
Questions answered by Questions
There is no Right or Wrong.
But Lives are lost.  

We look in the past
Rather than the future
Blaming one and another
As Lives are lost.

We just keep on Justifying
The Whys and The How
While Millions Die

Not only am I ashamed
To be a part of this Era
Sad and Angry
As I am  helpless.

The Fire has started
Everyone is burning
Without Realising
Giving Stupid Justifications.

When  messages are not answered
You are on the bottom of the list.

Lost my father
Many years back..
All he asked me
Was to take him back
That Last wish of his
Remained Unfulfilled.

They say Time Heals
All this is a Lie.
For when you remember
It seems like yesterday

Each one has to exit
This is the truth
Which cannnot be denied.

But the sadness which prevails
Is worst that death itself.

Feel worthless even after you try
All the Emotions buried
As there is no shoulder to cry

HP is the only place
For I can only Vent.

For those who still have their parents alive.
Meet them. Love them. Care for them.
As you never know when they will go.

Silence holds
Wounds  conceal,
Avoid Battles
Dreams Fulfilled.

In a fierce thunderstorm,
you’re bound to get wet—
so why blame the umbrella?

The one who follows …
Will not lead  ….
Unless followed …

A Question.
In Answer to a Question
Is not an Answer …

A heart that beats in quiet pain,
A longing voice, yet calls in vain.
The stars look down with silent glow,
As dreams of warmth fade soft and slow.

Each whispered hope, a fleeting flame,
Fades like the dusk, but who’s to blame?
The days stretch on, the nights grow long,
In search of where the heart belongs.

Yet through the shadows, love remains,
A gentle balm for unseen chains.
Though paths may twist and seem unclear,
The soul still seeks, despite the fear.

For even in the deepest night,
A spark still yearns to find its light.

Since there is no place to go
All one can do is go with the flow….

Work is going extremely slow.
All one can do is go with the flow….

The current phase of life is  low
All one can do is go with the flow …. .

Stuck  with people who i harldy know.
All one can do is go with the flow …..

So many parties, brands we wear ,
Stress to impress, keep up with their pace.
Networking or Socialising they say,
Deep down even we don’t know
Is that we simply feed our ego.

The whistle blows, all hear the sound,  
But no one moves, they stand around.  
A call to act, yet none will rise,  
And silence falls as time slips by.

Death is the only certainty,  
a quiet end we all must face,  
no matter who we are or what we have.  

In its shadow, life moves forward,  
filled with moments that flicker and fade,  
leaving us to make meaning while we can.

End of the Body….
At least you need
Four to carry.

Everyone's everywhere,  
Always busy, rushing by,  
In the end, nobody.

Entrapped  within a single body,
living together in an uneasy harmony.

One dissipates Slow and Steady.
The other dominates, depending on the place, time, or money.  


Eventually, one must win and the others loose.  
When that moment arrives, they all leave
with or without a warning.

Yet, this is not an end, but a continuation. The cycle persists, repeating over millions of years.

The same souls, returning again and again.  Inhabiting different bodies, continuing their eternal journey.

Lonely on the shelf it stayed,  
Old and dusty, cracks displayed.  
Untouched until a hand did pry,  
And in its grasp, it broke to die.

Infinite Failures..
Random Issues..
Internal Problems..
Personal Issues.
Seasons pass by
Will my Time Come.
Hope and Patience
Thats what I have.
Complete Faith
In the AlMighty
That one Day.
One Day.
My Time will also come.

As you climb higher,
Be grateful for those below
Motivated from those above….

Is it the Message ..
Or the Messenger ….

Is the the Interpretation
Or just Plain Translation …

Is the Origin
Or the Time

Is it the Numbers who follow
Or the Meaning

Never Ending Failures
Tired and Frustrated
Attempts Again.

Once Empty
Infinite Information Downloaded
Now Saturated

Silence between words,  
Whispers truths the heart conceals,  
Echoes speak aloud.

They lead with certainty, paths well-defined,  
Preach with conviction, in every word aligned.  
They smile, a beacon in the darkest night,  
Guide us gently, towards the distant light.  

Yet shadows linger where their words reside,  
A subtle chill where warmth should abide.  
Is it truth they speak, or am I misled?  
The answers slip through the thoughts in my head.  

Either they're right, steadfast and strong,  
Or it’s my own compass that’s been wrong.  
In this maze of doubt, I'm left to roam,  
Confused and searching, far from home.  

The signs they show, the vibes they lack,  
Leave me questioning the path I track.  
In their gaze, a riddle lies,  
Am I lost, or do they wear a disguise?

I was so much a part of you
Added to your beauty.
After a while you abandoned me.
Drifted apart from you

Many bottles on the tables,  
All properly labeled, clear,  
Yet contents hidden, veiled within,  
Their secrets disappear.  
  
Some hold water, pure and plain,  
Some with wine refined,  
Juices sweet in some you'll find,  
While others stand confined.  
  
A few are lifted, sipped with joy,  
Their purpose fulfilled with ease,  
But many sit in silent wait,  
Left alone, to only tease.  
  
Some are empty, void of worth,  
Disappointment's quiet toll,  
For not all bottles, neatly placed,  
Can satisfy the soul.

Every where there is Everything …
Yet Nothing.
Controlling Everything.
Yet Nothing.

All around there is Something
Yet Nothing…
Feeling Something
Yet Nothing….

In the end
We are better off  
Than millions
Who Starve
Who are Homeless
Who are Sick
Who are Abused.
And the list goes on and on.
So all I can say is
Thanks  to the Creator ….

In the stillness of a fractured night,  
Where shadows whisper and darkness bites,  
A world once pure now bears the scar,  
Of horrors hidden, cold and far.

In schools where laughter once did ring,  
Now echoes of despair take wing,  
Little lives, so soft and small,  
Entangled in a cruel, dark thrall.

From babes too young to understand,  
To youth whose dreams are slipped from hand,  
The innocence of ages lost,  
To brutal hands, at tragic cost.

The weight of evil, deep and vast,  
Crushes dreams and shadows cast,  
We stand in shame, our spirits torn,  
In a world where hope seems worn.

Bloodstains on our hands and hearts,  
In a world where cruelty never parts,  
Kidnapped souls and tortured cries,  
Silent pleas beneath darkened skies.

Yet in this abyss, we must ignite,  
A fierce, unyielding, blazing light,  
To rise above the pain and cry,  
To mend the world, to fight, to try.

For every tear and every scream,  
For broken hearts and shattered dreams,  
We vow to heal, to shield, to mend,  
To stand for justice, to defend.

In the face of darkness, we’ll unite,  
To cast away the endless night,  
To reclaim humanity's lost grace,  
And bring back light to every face

When something small begins to stray,  
From where it’s meant to hide away,  
It interrupts the face’s grace,  
And leaves a mark out of its place.

A gentle touch, a careful glide,  
Will guide it back to where it hides,  
Restoring calm, the look refined,  
A simple act, so well-aligned.

کیوں دفن ہوا،  
کیسے اور کب میں الجھا ذہن،  
کہاں اور کیا میں کھو گیا۔

Buried is Why ?
By the  How….
Confused by  When…
Lost by  Where.
Busy with What

Sunny day,  
Crowded street,  
Distributing dates,  
Pictures taken,  
Published on social media.  

I urge you to stop this,  
Charity is great  
When done from the heart,  
Not publicized,  
But quietly felt.  

Let the act itself  
Be the light,  
Not the shadow  
Of recognition.  
True kindness needs no stage,  
Only the sincerity  
Of a giving hand.

Heavy rains fall,
No shelter in sight,
The only path forward is to walk,
Each step soaked in the downpour,
Clothes cling, hair drips,
Drenched, with no escape.

Nature whispers its lessons,
In the rhythm of the rain,
Sometimes, there is no avoiding,
No resisting,
Only acceptance,
And the quiet strength to move on.

It’s a blessing to have this space,  
Where we express without disgrace.  
Unfortunate are those who hide,  
Feelings their loved ones can’t abide.

They get irritated, turn away,  
When you repeat what you must say.  
Don’t blame them, though it's hard to deal,  
When you can’t control the way you feel.

Worse it gets when sickness stays,  
And ridicule darkens your days.  
In the end, you choose the quiet,  
Keep it in, avoid the riot.

Yet silence fuels the growing strain,  
Till it erupts in hurt and pain.  
Confusion stirs within your mind,  
To speak or leave your voice behind.

Live your life, or live their way,  
This turmoil grows with each passing day.  
You wait for peace that never comes,  
Bearing the weight till you’re undone.

Financial burdens press you down,  
Your health declines, their voices drown.  
Nagging echoes, constant fight,  
How do others bear this plight?

Darkness all around,  
Silence echoes through the night,  
Each heart stands alone,  
In a world of self and shade,  
Where their own path takes the lead.

Seeking our likeness,  
In moments of dire need,  
Do we lend a hand,  
Or turn away, indifferent—  
The choice shapes who we become.

Infinite journey,  
Arrives, lives, then fades away..
Memory's erased.…

The Illusion of Separation

How can we harbor hate in our hearts,  
When the stars we gaze upon  
Shine upon all,  
A creation of the same endless sky,  
Each soul a flicker of the divine?  
Rumi spoke of love that transcends,  
A bridge to the beloved,  
Where differences dissolve like mist at dawn.  
Plato pondered the forms, the essence,  
A realm where shadows are mere reflections,  
Where truth is a shared light,  
A harmony unseen by eyes alone.

Yet here we are, divided,  
By borders of the mind,  
By lines drawn in the sand,  
Forgetting that the earth beneath us  
Knows no such bounds.  
We speak different tongues,  
We walk different paths,  
But beneath the surface,  
Our hearts beat in unison,  
Our spirits yearn for the same light.

She came with hope, eyes full of dreams,  
For her girl’s bright future, or so it seems.  
The weight of the world on her weary heart,  
Seeking help where she could, doing her part.

The first time, a hand was given,  
To lift her from the dark she was driven.  
The second time, the heartstrings pulled,  
In a world where kindness should never be dulled.

But now, the third time she stands before,  
And you can’t offer what you did before.  
Your own struggles, your own despair,  
Leave you feeling helpless, it’s so unfair.

You see the pain in her tear-stained eyes,  
The desperation, the silent cries.  
She’s knocked on doors, begged and pleaded,  
But at each one, her hopes receded.

Rejected, ignored, turned away,  
Still, she rises, day by day.  
Her girl’s future, a distant star,  
Yet a mother’s love travels far.

You wish you could do more, give again,  
But your hands are tied, you feel the strain.  
Yet know this truth, hold it close,  
Your compassion is a gift, the most.

For sometimes, it’s not the help you give,  
But the understanding, the will to live.  
To feel her pain, to share her plight,  
Is to stand with her in this fight.

So don’t feel useless, don’t feel small,  
You’ve done your part, you’ve answered the call.  
And though you can’t help as before,  
Your empathy, your care—mean so much more.

Sometimes,  
Sometimes most of the time,  
I feel nothing.  
Nothing at all.

No joy or sorrow,  
No rise or fall,  
Just a quiet void,  
A distant, hollow call.

Emotions fade,  
Like shadows on a wall,  
Leaving only echoes,  
Of nothing at all.

I search within,  
For something to hold,  
But find only silence,  
A story untold.

Sometimes,  
Sometimes most of the time,  
I feel nothing,  
And let the stillness fall.

Between ifs and whys,  
Life's questions softly whisper,  
Truths in doubt arise.

Infinite Programs  
Leading to Success …..
Searching for only one  
To Live with Failures ….

Looking up, I ask,
Is there one to hear my plea?
Listen once, I beg.