tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25402391081288897572024-03-12T21:59:18.208-07:00Pakistan DiaryVidhahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03243171480867671637noreply@blogger.comBlogger17125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2540239108128889757.post-84030663468405513402009-05-24T18:44:00.001-07:002009-05-24T18:46:06.389-07:00Portraits from the Red Diary<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimRy6ciGA6HFNP9g1GxdcvQ9BK9nID1eN1qk6P0VuOWtp5tDoeMI0TpzX9ra8B1cpIc4Kt1hm6LQBTLXuTmIOOjjlQ6D0LecKF_8cRYChxHxcoeVQjvkgwPxIu7fri6A3A0hPOtrR6k2ru/s1600-h/RED+DIARY_FAARIG+LOG_BNU+RECEPTION_08.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 191px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimRy6ciGA6HFNP9g1GxdcvQ9BK9nID1eN1qk6P0VuOWtp5tDoeMI0TpzX9ra8B1cpIc4Kt1hm6LQBTLXuTmIOOjjlQ6D0LecKF_8cRYChxHxcoeVQjvkgwPxIu7fri6A3A0hPOtrR6k2ru/s320/RED+DIARY_FAARIG+LOG_BNU+RECEPTION_08.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339571730541877330" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN0szeD-XseJJuYotUnrJOUNHsMreQo0puFxOVTEc9uYxczvmkAuqhrWlooC5sC7Pvjzd-29qoNOgITGp4fD2Gr3gST4USQc3CWCQ__jdwTVfHTgGBQv7eAP2nqzeibwXYe1yI2xpOwFWv/s1600-h/RED+DIARY_HEALTHY+STUDENT_BNU_08.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 193px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN0szeD-XseJJuYotUnrJOUNHsMreQo0puFxOVTEc9uYxczvmkAuqhrWlooC5sC7Pvjzd-29qoNOgITGp4fD2Gr3gST4USQc3CWCQ__jdwTVfHTgGBQv7eAP2nqzeibwXYe1yI2xpOwFWv/s320/RED+DIARY_HEALTHY+STUDENT_BNU_08.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339571723758387554" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhALTJOm4R_KySnyPs4WGZWHCuVQ72SrrSuuji1p-stUoF0ofAEDstEUXL8LaGOlY0snrZxb2RAuchhcLlo_2DYqB1NKTlOQJEfay39FEC3UPhyphenhyphenrQsB5bl2vBLzUXzXKPZqVLUnCMysbfLG/s1600-h/RED+DIARY_FAARIG+AADMI_BNU+LIBRARY_08.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 199px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhALTJOm4R_KySnyPs4WGZWHCuVQ72SrrSuuji1p-stUoF0ofAEDstEUXL8LaGOlY0snrZxb2RAuchhcLlo_2DYqB1NKTlOQJEfay39FEC3UPhyphenhyphenrQsB5bl2vBLzUXzXKPZqVLUnCMysbfLG/s320/RED+DIARY_FAARIG+AADMI_BNU+LIBRARY_08.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339571719341555954" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7e-_lYfJDKgLuBSc8J5LppAEqgks4HhOyUWmNyahP_N6GHDYY3Sgyr59daqvMn52b_wN2PUQmuEiLjk7uxve5Qkeyx8b3dxF80FEt4RglX3tcNN_qKmlhr9XEtugNRFLqBCuQxXBjfptO/s1600-h/RED+DIARY_USMAN_ANGELS+AND+DEVILS+CLASS_07.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 182px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7e-_lYfJDKgLuBSc8J5LppAEqgks4HhOyUWmNyahP_N6GHDYY3Sgyr59daqvMn52b_wN2PUQmuEiLjk7uxve5Qkeyx8b3dxF80FEt4RglX3tcNN_qKmlhr9XEtugNRFLqBCuQxXBjfptO/s320/RED+DIARY_USMAN_ANGELS+AND+DEVILS+CLASS_07.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339571718984641634" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHNPl2U1V4hw1J5_YS9d9FL_9qJpu3qNEk6yQcm0nk15wr7Q5JmyCFBv3778zAzjbknvVQM_TWPBmjuYSSiq6P3ZmjZk7PrGGarS-g2OZhv4NewQ6_IUNxhCXQpvpxf5wWEtgg6uDHE6gD/s1600-h/RED+DIARY+_CHIMI+LHAMO_BNU+HOSTEL_07.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 191px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHNPl2U1V4hw1J5_YS9d9FL_9qJpu3qNEk6yQcm0nk15wr7Q5JmyCFBv3778zAzjbknvVQM_TWPBmjuYSSiq6P3ZmjZk7PrGGarS-g2OZhv4NewQ6_IUNxhCXQpvpxf5wWEtgg6uDHE6gD/s320/RED+DIARY+_CHIMI+LHAMO_BNU+HOSTEL_07.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339571716476480722" /></a>Vidhahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03243171480867671637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2540239108128889757.post-58189879167769635682009-05-13T04:42:00.000-07:002009-05-13T04:47:52.554-07:00पेपर बैग<p>एक था पेपर बैग<br />बड़ा, मज़बूत, टिकाऊ<br /><br />बड़ा, मज़बूत, टिकाऊ<br />चमकी वाला<br />मन को रिझाने वाला<br /><br />मन को रिझाने वाला<br />तन जाता था<br />वज़न बढ़ जाने पर<br /><br />तन जाता था<br />मगर इंकार नहीं करता था<br />टूट नहीं जाता था<br /><br />टूट ता नहीं था<br />एक गुलाबी फीता था उसमें<br />और एक हरा<br /><br />एक गुलाबी, एक हरा, चमकी वाला<br />दोनों फीते मजबूती से लगे थे<br />बैग जब बना था<br />तब से उसमें जुड़े थे<br /><br />तब से उसमें जुड़े थे दोनों<br />सिर्फ एक फीता पकड़ने पर बैग नहीं उठ पाता था</p><p>वैसे उठ तो जाता था<br />सामान गिरा देता था<br /><br />सामन गिरा देता था<br />इसलिए दोनों फीते साथ में पकड़ने होते थे<br /><br />दोनों फीते पकड़ने पड़ते थे<br />साथ मैं पकड़ने पड़ते थे<br /><br />एक था पेपर बैग<br />बड़ा, मज़बूत, टिकाऊ<br />चमकी वाला<br />गुलाबी-हरा फीतेदार<br />पेपर बैग<br /> </p>Vidhahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03243171480867671637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2540239108128889757.post-34835400553056613072009-05-08T21:25:00.000-07:002009-05-08T21:30:41.401-07:00Naya Saal Hoga Kuchh Behtar<span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;"></span><br /><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Is kavita ka pehla hissa maine March 2008 ki main, Lahore main likha tha. Kavita khatm nahin huyi thi. Mumbai wapas aayi. Saal khatm hote-hote India-Pakistan ke beech kuchh-kuchh behtar ho rahe rishte phir gadbada gaye. 29 December 2008 ko is kavita ka doosra hissa likha gaya. </span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">08.03.08</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Naya saal hoga kuchh behtar</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Socha tha hum sab ne</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;"></span> </p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Dar, udaasi ko chhod aaye hain</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Socha tha hum sab ne</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Bin mauke koi shahid na hoga</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Maut aam baat na hogi</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Socha tha hum sab ne</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;"></span> </p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Ghoomenge befikr Liberty</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Tootenge nahin darvaaze, khidkiyan aur dil</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">hostel nahin banega qaidkhaana</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Socha tha hum sab ne</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;"></span> </p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">"Dar ki koi baat nahin hai, main theek hoon!"</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Aaye din yeh sandesh na denge</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Socha tha hum sab ne</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;"></span> </p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Dar lekar na ghar jaayenge</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Socha tha hum sab ne</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">29.12.08</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Ghar aa gaye us mulk se hum</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Pakistan jise naam mila</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;"></span> </p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Hindustan ki sar-zameen par bhi</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Phoonkte -phoonkte paunv rakha</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Alag mausam aur naya saal tha</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Yahan bhi lekin wahi haal tha</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Wahi khwahishein phir se jaagi</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Kyunki phir dil darwaaze toote</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;"></span> </p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Dar phailaa hai har hisse main</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Naya saal kuchh aisa beeta</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">29.12.09</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Ghar aa gaye us mulk se hum</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Pakistan jise naam mila</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Ek din use bhi ghar bolenge</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Socha tha hum sab ne</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;"></span> </p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Aasaan wahan jaana hoga</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Mazzedaar kisi ko wahan se bulana hoga</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Hum bhi keh sakenge, </span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">"Hamaare Lahore main aisa hota hai</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Hamaare Karachi main waisa hota hai"</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Naya saal bhi khatm hua hai</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Achhe bure kayi kisse lekar</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Takreer karne waalon se aao poochhein</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">"Mann ka kolahal kya kam tha</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">yudhhon ki jo shuruat karoge?"</span></p>Vidhahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03243171480867671637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2540239108128889757.post-13614543355389084352008-02-18T01:16:00.001-08:002008-02-18T01:18:32.911-08:00Invitation for my Exhibition<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY2XwLB59t8JAhlYk0FnJanHBBEINVOrHDbNNhrUg1mwsur2c5tXfCA3avapx3m-4I4lvQNtPBr0dgg0LJXTo3Jf3jnFTfzqEseohJir7KItA5bCz44eWwvAMIPnJqLjHbdIeUIOg_fG7m/s1600-h/invitation-front.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168246886089944370" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY2XwLB59t8JAhlYk0FnJanHBBEINVOrHDbNNhrUg1mwsur2c5tXfCA3avapx3m-4I4lvQNtPBr0dgg0LJXTo3Jf3jnFTfzqEseohJir7KItA5bCz44eWwvAMIPnJqLjHbdIeUIOg_fG7m/s320/invitation-front.gif" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3jUjQjt5hHzErJs87IwhN6Ot7snoQknRmB4xpXXBujxb-D6iD5Gu0LNcqf_fg0_I7rSJD69h1pDTqnCjce_Gtd04u2EREbPHWJfIfumWeknijLg_FvxW2PWhoMBeA2vD7M9L4c7TwZ4Td/s1600-h/invitation-back.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168246898974846274" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3jUjQjt5hHzErJs87IwhN6Ot7snoQknRmB4xpXXBujxb-D6iD5Gu0LNcqf_fg0_I7rSJD69h1pDTqnCjce_Gtd04u2EREbPHWJfIfumWeknijLg_FvxW2PWhoMBeA2vD7M9L4c7TwZ4Td/s320/invitation-back.gif" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div>Vidhahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03243171480867671637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2540239108128889757.post-24001617608831386332008-02-18T01:01:00.000-08:002008-02-18T01:04:01.571-08:00Mama Chimi<div align="right"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc33cc;"><strong>Pink Panther<br />Picked up two synthetic dyed fur balls<br />Cute<br />Cage after cage<br />Bars to a shoe box<br />Mother to be<br />Aunties and all<br />Shower of love<br />Will barred love help them survive?<br />Survival tips from </strong></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><em>baaji<br /></em>All measures taken<br />Heaters lit exclusively for them<br />“I will make them a vegetarian”<br />Bhutanese exclusion<br />World of the mother<br />To hell with the rest of the world<br /><br />Silent wishes of death<br />Didn’t hope they will come true<br />Thanks to shirts, cotton and all<br />Will it help?<br />2, 3, 4<br />3 days of love<br />One night of death<br />Sudden<br />Planned<br />Smoking before children<br />What caused the end?<br />Dye, heat, cold or just too much love<br /><br />Reason for suffocation<br />Cover of food<br />Stiff bodies<br />Stirred up blood<br />Heartache<br />Wet mattress<br />Unwanted<br />Non-existent<br />Get the friend back<br />Mother engrossed in television<br />Condolence till its dark<br />Is it happiness?<br />Absence of empathy<br /><br />“What is the one trait you would like to pass on to your son?”<br />“Empathy” said the graceful mother at the beauty pageant<br />Beauty<br />Lies in the eyes of the beholder<br />Or so they say<br />What eyes does one need<br />To realize the beauty of the lot around us<br />The dark, the ugly, the dull, the unenlightened<br />The unintelligent, the disproportionate<br />The missing limb<br /><br />Beauty beats love<br />Beauty reigns<br />Mother of all love<br />What does one miss?<br />Void<br />Space ion the heart<br />Air bubbles<br /><span style="color:#ffcc33;">Too many mamas<br />Pink and yellow love<br />Upbringing tips<br />Warning of death<br />Beauty conquers all<br />Safe from the world<br />Safe in death<br />Take care<br /><br /></span> </span></strong></span></div>Vidhahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03243171480867671637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2540239108128889757.post-2253320596210477362007-12-04T21:35:00.000-08:002007-12-04T21:38:46.487-08:00BUZZZPlease put a full stop<br /><span style="font-size:130%;">BUZZZZZZZZZZZZ<br /></span>I have a headache<br />No wonder people are sleeping<br />I love her confidence facing shame<br /><span style="font-size:180%;">Hodgepodge<br /></span><br />The <span style="font-size:130%;">BUZZ</span> goes down my spine<br />It is hurting my spinal cord<br />Spreads over my shoulders<br />Like anesthesia before the operation<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">STOP</span> or I’ll go mad<br />If I stand I will fall<br />The <span style="font-size:130%;">BUZZ</span> fills up the room<br />It has the colour of my national flag<br />Ayesha sits<br />and sits<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">STOP!</span> Else I’ll cry<br />I wish I was boiling in oil instead<br />Please stop<br />Human voice can make you<br /><span style="font-size:130%;">NUMB<br /></span>I sense my blood going cold<br /><br />I’m sure her <span style="font-size:130%;">BLOOD </span><br />too matches her dress<br />Molten iron in my ears<br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">“<strong>Mr. Kasimir Malevich,<br />Why did you exist?”<br /></strong></span><br /><span style="font-size:180%;">The Brain Is Jelly<br /></span><br />Very good presentation Unum!Vidhahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03243171480867671637noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2540239108128889757.post-73507226178601507362007-12-03T22:36:00.001-08:002007-12-03T22:46:24.602-08:00Isaac Asimov: Vidha to Haider<span style="color:#ff6600;">Sookha Mazaak<br />Chamakti aankhein<br />Na rehne ka dar<br />Khush karne ki chaah<br />Pareshan Hindustani<br />Pakistan main garmahat<br />Bhaari palkein<br />Duur bhaagta HAIDER ALI JAN</span>Vidhahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03243171480867671637noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2540239108128889757.post-57871698915082212007-12-03T22:34:00.001-08:002007-12-03T22:35:47.885-08:00Lahori Ladke<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjbpnl_1LV0Mtm_FmMAEGjo5co88AGW6mOrxeyteKL1bNxnieEUGOwkOoUhz9P7EyeKEJ8oEPV3g8qzloUHTigzSXkcbDQMFEelfGNU-UT8Y4ascxeZDOH4jIzEQGmA3-r_XRLGSQ79kYQ/s1600-r/Vidha_Boys[1].jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140002571552580066" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2lX3isWgy55luf_lOgfDanynOuwhnKqOsPANz61X-KAG0fVMg0Y259ZyzwgDkM_C5PzkizXuHuwN3XAQHdGTWA3S4Pi-7uNPpW5cpi0Xy0Q3Ku6DNDWJasldgGC95SJksWmaUCAF_NF1j/s320/Vidha_Boys%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div>Vidhahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03243171480867671637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2540239108128889757.post-71138688592337121102007-12-03T22:32:00.001-08:002007-12-03T22:34:09.427-08:00Lahori Ladkiyan<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghkm-RvCakNAhC3-4bMb-4PhhK3rYR_37_1lJEUUgs4CLgDe5DmQmjL-fOvRFJ4pJQ9-Yna9r1AJA0EtvCbB-ClD5Y8nik8BlnGOCc72rm8YJSdwksj2L98QWSXiFqnycEf2NQocJ5vSac/s1600-r/Vidha_Girls[1].jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140002206480359890" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq24CSpJrQb5TgUo99s6iDz67z55RUbX1V52YTigeHLx8CHfmTahaUJ4Ar9rKZllP_VApB5xqr9ZqBtbN_qO9LCFfXRUQt3M7z2b249FN_akOmUImXkGHQT5qMNl094p63tEPB67E4sdYe/s320/Vidha_Girls%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div>Vidhahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03243171480867671637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2540239108128889757.post-73281527388576082007-11-26T03:29:00.000-08:002007-11-26T03:39:49.295-08:00Cafeteria Culture<p align="right"><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;color:#006600;"><strong>Clear hollow spheres climb up success<br />And what becomes of them?<br />The cold green veil makes its person look green too.<br />The specks of red have become one in this sticky paste which has spurted like blood<br />10 sets of 4<br />One green slab in the center<br />One of them holds the clear hollow spheres and also 1 empty green veil<br />Green blinds<br />Colour of abundance<br />Present here in abundance<br />Abundance also in the rotten smell of the fresh eggs<br />2 sets of 3 wings give each other company with 1 set of 4<br />The long wire makes a trap<br />It waits eagerly at the door step<br />Gharrrgharrranggghrrrram becomes one with the equally annoying place<br />The place is still except the figure in the dress of the west<br />4 drab virgin buttons look eagerly at the shining whores<br />The tiny transparent balls play under the green veil which hides nothing<br />One of them starts to slip from the tip of the transporter<br />Slow. Picks up speed as others join in<br />The vertebral gets disturbed and the olfactory devices get connected to the lips<br />The ends of the lips point towards the equator<br />Tut tut tut chuk chuk<br />Chhsh chhsh Chhsh chhsh Chhsh chhsh<br />Sound of the greasy biryani<br />The tiny, white, wriggly, curly being falls out of the sound and struggles to be alive<br />While the light comes from various unreachable sources, some warm green looks nosily at me and the holed gray<br />Tiny screeches of being molested<br />The hand and the tiny screeches in harmony<br />The holder is displaced and the second set of three asked to go to sleep<br />The person in the veil dies slowly<br />The red blood still sits there shamelessly<br />Green is home<br />Spit. Spill. Sit. Spread the smell around.<br />The incandescent form reflects in the cracked glass, the veil of glass that covers/uncovers the territory of the green.<br />Comfort<br />Amidst the artificial smell of the biryani there is a transcend to a hospital room<br />The white lump warms the green under it<br />The rest of the green remains unused<br />The black clot plastered on its forehead<br />Bindi from India<br />The pattern on its dusty black leg moves and falls still.<br /></strong></span></p>Vidhahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03243171480867671637noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2540239108128889757.post-65306109465864163442007-11-26T03:11:00.000-08:002007-11-26T03:29:02.660-08:00Teen Bachchey Lahore Ke<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg65zsgmrkW5Ky5R0Aui2cZSmGjDsfHRKLRSf18Z-bJ-stju8mIX5wK0YBIf_VNmWwLjmt0nbodTnpPojOlra5dOgtaZgQNo8sd2pgIbGk-CpwfnOyrUfNdgnT_ZZT76G3y5-1JFM8iVVll/s1600-h/Teen+Bachchey.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137107856174907170" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg65zsgmrkW5Ky5R0Aui2cZSmGjDsfHRKLRSf18Z-bJ-stju8mIX5wK0YBIf_VNmWwLjmt0nbodTnpPojOlra5dOgtaZgQNo8sd2pgIbGk-CpwfnOyrUfNdgnT_ZZT76G3y5-1JFM8iVVll/s320/Teen+Bachchey.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div>Vidhahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03243171480867671637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2540239108128889757.post-13897570623303974202007-11-08T15:29:00.000-08:002007-11-08T15:32:39.454-08:00Diwali ki Shubhkamnayen!<span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#cc0000;"><strong>Jagmagaata hua din, jhilmilati hui shaam </strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#cc0000;"><strong>Kuchh puraane diye</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#cc0000;"><strong>Packet waala tel</strong></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#cc0000;"><strong>Safed mombattiyan </strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#cc0000;"><strong>Paak </strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#cc0000;"><strong>November ki thand main lau ki garmi</strong></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#cc0000;"><strong>Kheer poori ki daawat </strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#cc0000;"><strong>Kheer: safed </strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#cc0000;"><strong>Ghar ki yaad </strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#cc0000;"><strong>Sheher Lahore</strong></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#cc0000;"><strong>Rangi hui skirt </strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#cc0000;"><strong>Safed kurti </strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#cc0000;"><strong>Sajne ka intezaar</strong></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#cc0000;"><strong>Nariyal ke laddoo</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#cc0000;"><strong>Meethe aur narm </strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#cc0000;"><strong>Bhurbhuri sookhi khol</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#cc0000;"><strong>Safed</strong></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#cc0000;"><strong>Naye yantro par milte sandesh </strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#cc0000;"><strong>Rati-ratayin shubhkaamnayen </strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#cc0000;"><strong>RangHeen </strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#cc0000;"><strong>Safed</strong></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#cc0000;"><strong>Garmi, raunak, rang, khushi </strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#cc0000;"><strong>Sab kuchh sametne ki chaah </strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#cc0000;"><strong>Kolahal ke beech sannata </strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#cc0000;"><strong>Safed. </strong></span>Vidhahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03243171480867671637noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2540239108128889757.post-86178944778204955862007-11-04T06:38:00.000-08:002007-11-04T06:43:01.066-08:00Sakuntala<span style="color:#990000;">Lemonade expanse<br />Slim, modern. Fresh!!<br />Hands quivering under the weight of the tangy wrap<br />Fingers press the buttons that are the color of the sky<br />White not blue<br />Rococo curls rest and listen to the mesmerizing voice of </span><span style="color:#990000;"><em>Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan<br /></em>The tummy rests too, after being subject to the endless jokes about it holding a baby.<br />A white flower peeps from behind her shoulder.<br />A similar one rests on the other bed with its face away, referring to the unexciting company<br /><em>Jugalbandi</em> of the feet<br />Strange! Looks dead to the world!<br />YES YES YES. No disturbance<br />Figure performs a Baroque on the pink bed<br />Marylyn’s eye winks from the left breast<br />Lips are potted in perfection, ready to be glossed<br />Few words of consent take a trip<br />Neoclassic folds<br />Olympia<br />White folds of the Greek sculptures.<br />The candle, the doll, the bottle, the fan, the leaves; in tough competition<br />Kingdom of The Sleeping Beauty<br />The thumb rests in the middle of the index finger.<br />All fingers stare and glance away<br />Gaze conscious<br />The hands shape a V ready to spell some name<br />Stringy innumerable lines of the forehead invite attention<br />Cavity in the sour bed sheet is seen<br />The cavity leads to the corner of the bed. The wall is white with one little dent<br /><em>Butool’s</em> masterpiece has left 10 marks of it’s descend<br />Wait to fetch sympathy and the memories<br />Tête-à-tête of the pink laced white and the dark, handsome shadow of the vast green minus blue<br />Love is happening<br />Perky, dizzy, thoughtless, idle<br />Love nevertheless, with unkempt eyebrows and dark elbows<br />Slumber of the tiny mole beneath the gloom of the frail lashes<br />Deceit with the lemonade bed sheet<br />Affair with the ebony under it<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> </span>Vidhahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03243171480867671637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2540239108128889757.post-36088229993824439352007-11-04T06:00:00.000-08:002007-11-04T06:38:28.547-08:00All of a Sudden<span style="font-family:courier new;color:#330000;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"><strong><span style="color:#330000;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Kal</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">ka</span> din <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">aur</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">dino</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">jaisa</span> hi <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">tha</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Humne</span> The Last Emperor <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">aur</span> Farewell My Concubine <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">dekhi</span>. Julia <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">hume</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Hsin</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Kuang</span> lunch <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">ke</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">liye</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">le</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">gayi</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">theen</span>. As usual people ordered for <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">manchurian</span> and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">American</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">chopsuey</span>. Thank God Julia completely rejected the idea of American <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">Chopsuey</span> in a Chinese restaurant. Anyways we ordered for some shrimps with mushrooms and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">vegetables</span>(my choice and I ended up eating it the most). Rest of the food was as per what everybody else wanted. Some really Gory <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">vermilion</span> sauce which was thick with the kilos of cornflour in it. Well I cleverly ate what I ordered for.</span></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#330000;"><strong>I had a late evening and was hoping for my plans to go buy a dress for Diwali do not get ruined again. As I was getting own from the rickshaw, guard <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">chacha</span> told the driver <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">chacha</span> that emergency has been declared. I was scared and confused and lost apart from being upset about being unaware of what was happening around me. what does that mean. what will happen in an emergency. I saw S<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">uraiya</span> sitting the in the w<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">arden's</span> room. That meant that <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">there</span> was something <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">serious</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">happening</span>. </strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#330000;"><strong>In a few minutes I got ready to go to the market and as I stepped out of the room Noor forbidded me to step out of the hostel, though she was getting ready to go to a party. I wondered why. I was relly scared by now. suddenly some girl announced that the news channels have been cut and the internet and phone lines will be soon cut too. I had by this time somehow managed to convinve Azra to come with me to the market. I tried to show that I was not scared. I sent a mail to Ali, Ma and Papa informing that I was safe and sound.</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#330000;"><strong>We stepped out, me scared but not showing and Azra scared but comforting me that nothing will happen.</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#330000;"><strong>We walked till the market and what do we see? There was no difference. I was hoping to see the fear on people's faces but everybody appeared as if nothing had happened. In a minute I also forgot that there was something like this that happened. After succeeding in what I had come here for and making note of the palcement of shops, we hurried back to the hotel. We didn't want to miss dinner. </strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#330000;"><strong>Th warden was serious and told us not to step out just like that. The lost fear was suddenly found. I called up papa and pap toild me to do what salima hasmi would ask us to do. He also asked me to keep my baggage ready, just in case they asked us to leave the country. </strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#330000;"><strong>I was a reality blow. Could that really happen? I even dreamt later that night that I had been sent back to Bangelore. Luckily for me it was only a dream. </strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#330000;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#330000;"><strong>I was still in Lahore and I still am. </strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#330000;"><strong>Allah ka shukr hai!</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#330000;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#330000;"><strong></strong></span>Vidhahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03243171480867671637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2540239108128889757.post-35526470469423256682007-10-28T04:38:00.000-07:002007-10-28T04:54:24.612-07:00By my self on M M AALAM Road<span style="font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;">I had to buy some handmade papers for my illustrations on Friday. I deally my place of visit for this world have been Urdu Bazar. That is quite far fron my college and I couldn't convince anybody to come with me. So I went for an easier option. I went to M M Aalam road. M M Aalam road is an extremely expensive shopping area. I went to the shop as directed be one of the Teacher's assistant at BNU. None of the Guards t the plaza knew where the shop was.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;">After going around the plaza for 20 minutes I was lucky enough to find someone who knew the paper shop.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;">The papers were expensive but I had to buy them. After being content with my shopping and happy to have found a good deal I left the Plaza and started walikng towards the Main Market. </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;">Now the funny part was that I was wearing jeans and a Full sleeves knit top which stopped just above where my jeans started. I also had a Shawl around myself lest I offend someone. I tried all types of drapes in Order to make my bottom less visible. As in wrap it around so that it covers my behind like a kurta. I was unsuccessful and i gave up. I just walked ignoring gawking men. It was no different from walking in India.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;">I walked all the way to a book shop called Readings. I musty have walked atleast 3 kilometers and I felt very good about saving the money and looking at shops, people and them looking at me.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;">I made mental notes of the shops I would want to visit again and the restaurants I want to come to.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"> </span>Vidhahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03243171480867671637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2540239108128889757.post-36841799311028681352007-10-13T14:59:00.000-07:002007-10-13T15:37:43.357-07:00ID MUBARAK<div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#993399;"><strong> Id Mubarak!<br /><br /> Aaj Id hai. </strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#993399;"><strong> Saari raat sabhi dukaane aur restaurants khule rahenge. </strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#993399;"><strong> Humlog aaj Sajana aur Raju ke ghar gaye the. Sajana aur Raju Nepal se hain. Dono abhi teacher's assistant hain. Yahan main market karke ilaaka hai, wahin dono ne ghar liya hai. Bahut hi pyaara sa ghar hai. 1'st floor par hai. Unhone bataaya ki unke makan-malik bahut hi achhe log hain. </strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#993399;"><strong> Jaalidar grill se unki balcony ghiri hui hai. Badi si balcony hai, teen kamre, ek kitchen aur toilet baathroom. Do kamro main, jo ki living room aur bedroom hai, wall to wall carpet hai. Kitchen main pipeline se gas supply hai. Sabhi S.A.A.R.C. students wahan aaye the. </strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#993399;"><strong> Aaj pehli baar achcha home-made khaana tha. Sajana ne hi subkuchh banaaya tha. Main keh rahi thi ki unke liye kuchh le chalte hain, lekin sabhi keh rahe the ki wahan pahunch kar dekhenge ki kya banaana hai, phir market jaayenge. Aisa kabhi hota hai? Stupid! </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#993399;"><strong> Raju humen lene aaya tha. Sabhi hamen hi dekh rahe the, kyonki bas ek ladka aur 8 ladkiyaan jinme se ek bhi Pakistani nahin lagti. Khair uske ghar tak ka raasta, mujhe bahut achha lagaa. Bilkul chhote shehron jaisa. Chhoti -chhoti dukaane, Khoob chahal pahal, aur Id ki raat thi to roshni ka bhi khoob intezaam tha. bahut saari auraten aur bachche, jagah -jagah choodiyaan, aur kapde khareed rahe the. Roshni ki wajah se yahaan ki khoobsoorat auratein aur bhi khoobsoorat lag rahin thi. </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#993399;"><strong> Sajana aur Raju ke ghar, humne, pake huye chawal(hostel main hamesha adhkachcha chaawal milta hai) dal, methi ki chatni, dry palak ki chutney, kerav ki sabzi, bangladeshi machhli aur salad khaaya. Maine chaar baar apni plate bhari thi. unke paas bilkul chhota sa rice cooker hai, isliye unhe chaar baar chaawal banaana pada tha, humsab ke liye. Uske baad humne mithayi khaayi. </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#993399;"><strong> Humssab kuchh der yunhi baithe rahe. Unke ghar ki taareef kar rahe the. Nepali sangeet baj raha tha, shayad Nepali film music. Jo bhi tha bahut achha tha. Chimi, Zuki, Pratima aur Sonam pehle naach rahe the, Nepali style main, phir hum sab bhi unke saath nachne lage. Bahut mazaa aaya. Sonam, Bhutan se hai, aur woh mujhe Govinda ke steps kar ke dikha raha tha. Bhutan, aur Nepal ke students ko Buddhist chants bhi bahut achhe lagte hain. Humne chai pi, aur phir humlog ghar ke kiye nikal pade.</strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#993399;"><strong> Hum auto ke liye kaafi chale . Raaste bhar tarah tarh ki dukaane, roshni, log, itna badhiyaan lag raha tha. hawaa main kabab aur mithai ki milijuli khushboo thi. Auto waale bahut zyaada charge kar rahe the. Lahore main aaj ki raat sabhi bahar hote hain, raat bhar ghoomte hain, jagah-jagah khaate hain, shopping karte hain aur phir subah subah ghar jaa kar so jaate hain. Mera bhi man tha ki hum-sab poori raat nahi to kam se kam 2 ghante ghoomen, lekin aur kisi ka man nahin tha. Main jitna dekh paa rahi thi wahi yaad rakhne ke koshish kar rahi thi. </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#993399;"><strong> Pehli baar aaj itne bhikhaari dikhayi diye. Generally husband-wife the, jisme husband hamesha andha tha, aur wife behad sundar. Aise kum se kum main 9 bhikhaari dekhe. </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#993399;"><strong> Best-buy jo ki hamaara nearest utility store hai, bharaa hua tha. Aate samay hum wahan bhi gaye kyonki kal-parson woh band rahega. Maine two hairpins khareede, Id ki khushi main, aur mehndi. </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#993399;"><strong> Bahar kuchh chhote ladke chinese khilone bechte hain. Hamaari unse baat-cheet hoti hai. Woh subah school jaate hain, aur shaam koi gubbare aur khilone bechte hain. Saku ne unhe Idi di aur maine hair beads ka packet double daam main khareeda. Hume woh ladke baaji bulaate hain. Baaji mane badi behan. </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#993399;"><strong> Maine wapas aakar room theek kiya, nayi chaadar bichhayi. Saku ka bhi bistar theek kar diya. Bathroom main naye phool rakhe. Kambal bhi nikaal liya. Azra ne Saku, Chimi, Zuki aur mujhe mehndi lagaayi. Maine Azra ko mehndi lagayi. Phir Chimi aur Zuki ko bhi lagaayi. Azra kal bataa rhi thi ki jb woh chhoti this tab Id ke din koi kaam nahin karti thi. bas naye kapde pehan kar, ice-cream khaati thi aur gaane sunti thi. Koi use kaam deta tha to kehti thi ki ki uski choodiyan kharaab ho jaayengi. Uski behan ne Islamabad se uske liye Junaid-Jamshed ke material se suit banaakar bheja tha. Usne yeh bhi bataaya ki Id ke din khoob meethi-meethi neened aati hai, aur bahut bhookh lagti hai. Lekin Id ka itn romanch hota hai ki khaane ka man nahin karta.</strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#993399;"><strong> Kal Suraiya aur Azra hamaare liye naashta banaane waale hain, aur humlog khaana. Kal ladkon ko bhi nyota hai. Dekhen kya banta hain. Kal main bhi naye kapde pehnoongi. </strong></span></div><div align="left"><strong><span style="color:#993399;"></span></strong> </div><div align="left"><strong><span style="color:#993399;">Id Mubarak</span></strong></div>Vidhahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03243171480867671637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2540239108128889757.post-28003180042511089152007-10-06T23:09:00.000-07:002007-10-07T12:14:45.425-07:00Prayer Room<span style="color:#003333;"><strong>Olper’s milk pack <em>pajamas</em> talk about how babies are born<br />Matching slippers enter the room with eh! Strange!? Boys?<br />Matching slippers leave the room<br />Oho!!! Re-entry<br />Eh! Boy? Again?<br />4 pairs of matching footwear lie around AttentivE<br />2 rest lazily under the feet<br />Hard juicy orange balls light up her wrists<br />How do you have sex??? The question floats around<br />Suddenly reminded of the class<br />Envelopes are de-creased<br />Red rides up the <em>pajama’s </em>neck<br />Bulbs have left their sockets<br />12 in all<br />4 on each side<br />2 on the top<br />1 shared by all three sides<br />Eyes of the three men pass after permission, with the men.<br />2 more<br />Pink clip sits like a bud to the left of the face, ready to be nipped<br />Hairy legs peep out of the envelope<br />Studded thongs on the feet hide some hair<br />Sparsely dyed orange nails match the lower envelope<br /><em>Limo</em> juice <em>dupattas </em><br />Open door is shut by the guards<br />Prayer room is too tempting<br />Give in after I<em>d<br /></em>Tall lady with matching slippers passes the room<br />Study conversations happen all around<br />Glittering thongs crown the white skin<br />The green bag matches nothing. It is not its day<br />Wonder why it exists.<br />Find it a partner! So what if it is <em>Ramzan</em>?<br />The black hair stays unmoved<br />The smile touches the telephone<br />2 pairs lie ignored<br />Olper’s milk: Rs. 13 for 250 ml</strong></span>Vidhahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03243171480867671637noreply@blogger.com4