The Merchant of Dead Dreams
I came across this exhausted old man, sleeping in a quiet corner of Port Grand. I wanted to wake him up, but didn’t have the heart to do so despite knowing that he was sleeping a dreamless sleep.
I have seen all and then some!
Came across this sweet old man a few months ago in Fortress Stadium, Lahore. He worked for a tea seller and had the kindest of faces and the most expressive eyes. The interaction was short but what was intended to be communicated, was communicated
Who are you? What are your dreams?
A random capture near Saddar Railway Station, Karachi.
The man fascinated me. His face reminded me of an old Baloch, too tired to bear the burden of his dreams anymore.
ہم سب قاتل ہیں
ابّا! اس دفعہ نا، چودہ اگست پر میں، سفید رنگ کی نئی شلوار قمیض پہنوں گا.’ آٹھ سالہ ثاقب نے اپنے باپ کی گود میں گھستے ہوئے کہا
.اور کیا لے گا میرا بیٹا؟’ اللہ بخش نے پیار سے اس کے بال بگاڑتے ہوئے پوچھا’
.اور؟ اور…………ڈھیر ساری جھنڈیاں. سبز اور سفید.’ ثاقب نے کچھ سوچتے ہوئے کہا’
Shehryar khawar 