God looked down at two shattered souls drowning in separate sorrows and decided to play Cupid - because sometimes the cure for one broken heart is another.
A dual-narrative poem that follows two devastated individuals - a woman carrying a vault of sorrow and a man wandering the dark path of regret - until divine intervention brings them together in a transformative moment.
There she is, looking so young yet so old,
with a spirit, which was once so reckless and bold
There is still beauty, but only a shadow remains,
her strength survives, too, but is bound by chains
Trace within her soul, the dried pathways of salt,
she has been saving so many sorrows in her vault
Map each contour, map each line on her cheeks,
go ahead and ask her, what is it that she really seeks?
Perhaps, she hopes for bliss and a better future?
as her present is pus leaking from an open suture
Perhaps, she hopes for happy days to come,
as her past belongs to regret, all dark and glum
Look deep into her eyes, rivers of pain, black and grey,
they are silent, the foam of desire, subdued each day
They keep flowing over their bitter beds of loss,
marked by boulders of guilt, covered in rotten moss
There he is, tired and walking a lonesome path,
the rage has left his spirit, and absent is his wrath
He walks behind regret, while pain closely follows,
he is a lost soul, wandering in the grey hollows
The harsh, cold wind mourns the dead pigeons,
there is no salvation, no gods, and no religions
He is oblivious to all and is ignored by all,
his legacy is a broken ego; respect is his last call
He is a volcano gone dead, to all who care to see,
his soul is a vast desert, devoid of blessing, yet free
There is no fire, only ice in his marble heart,
while he eternally waits for the rains to start
Shattered into a million shards, dreams he once had,
he has lost forever, his character, his good, and his bad
To him, happiness and joy are all illusions and smoke,
to him, ecstasy and calm are nothing more than a joke
Time and patience play the sweet harp of change,
God looks down at the two souls, lost and so strange,
He feels the void in their souls, sees their dreams all furled,
with a kind and worried frown and his fingers all curled
‘Let there be light in their miserable and dark life,
let the angels play their magic, their merry fife
I won’t let their dreams die, be extinguished like this,
let their suffering finally end, let them get some bliss’
Boom! There is a great thunder up in the lofty skies,
across a chaotic throng they stand, amidst shouts and cries
There is a sudden flash of light, and they see where they stand,
they run towards each other, and he grabs her waiting hand
His loss kisses her loss and tastes empathy so deep,
they make a golden promise, forever to nurture and keep
Her grief caresses his grief and turns to sheer pleasure,
to love and to cherish, becomes their eternal treasure
عایشہ کے ساتھ کامران کی پہلی ملاقات ایک کانفرنس میں ہوئی. دیکھنے میں عام سی لڑکی تھی. کھلتا ہوا گندمی رنگ، سرو قد، متناسب جسم، کالی گہری آنکھیں، لمبی لمبی مخروطی انگلیاں، سر پر سکارف، ایک کلائی میں پتلی پتلی سونے کی دو چوڑیاں اور سادہ سا ہلکے سے رنگ کا شلوار قمیض. شرمیلی بہت تھی اور اتنے سارے مردوں میں اکیلی لڑکی ہونے کے باعث بالکل اپنے آپ میں سمٹی جا رہی تھی
Shehryar khawar 