The Silent World

(I wrote this while trying to see and feel the world through Ali Raza’s eyes. Or at least trying to. Ali Raza is a two-year old boy who is deaf. He is my cousin’s son. Really cute. The following is just a portion of the whole writing I have been working on.)

“The world is completely silent for me. Or that is what others tell me. Everything is quiet. I don’t know what “SILENT” actually means. I don’t even what is this thing people call “NOISE” and maybe not knowing it is what “silent” means. Existence of anything remains unknown until and unless someone actually “senses” it. That is how people know that God exists because at some point in their lives, people have ‘sensed’ God and His workings. For me “SILENCE” and “NOISE” don’t exist at all.

I see and feel the world the way others cannot, and others see and feel the world the way I cannot. Or that is what others tell me. If that is the case then I am different. I am special. Every great thinker, philosopher, revolutionary or prophet was different and they saw and felt the world the way others could not. They were special. They were gifted. I am gifted…”

Voodoo?

(Wrote it during a class a day after I found a wierd doll under my bed. Scared the HELL out of me.)

That one Voodoo Doll,
Hidden under my Bed.
That wierd pin,
Stuck right through its head.

IF…

“IF I HAD…”
Things would have been different.
The question now is: DO I WANT IT TO BE DIFFERENT??
Maybe. Maybe not.

Insanity and Life

Its been almost a whole year and I am still not over my USA year. I still miss my time. I am going crazy. Insane. I wish I could relive it all again. Just once. Please.

I am lucky to have met some of the most beautiful people in the year 2008. I wish I could bring it all back. I wish I could be with them forever. First of all, I had the loveliest Host Parents ever. Ryan and Peggy. My American PARENTS. Even though at times I know I annoyed them but they never said a word. Ryan Dad always took care of me like his own true son. Peggy mom always cooked the most delicious meals and not to forget the mouthwatering Desserts she made. They just had a wonderful family who took me under their wings in an alien land. There is so much about them that even a whole book would not be sufficient.

Then comes Luke Kneeshaw (Homo Gayshaw). The one person I admire more than anyone. I still do not know how a popular ASB president came to be friends with an insignificant Pakistani exchange student. I still don’t know. I remember the first time I met him. Then I remember the night I made him and others run away from our house through the backdoor. That really pissed my host family. But my intention was to not disturb them. All the small mistakes I made in USA were always unintentional and I got to learn a lot from them.

I will not say much about Marcelo because just by thinking about him I get tears in my eyes. Still. That may sound gay but I miss him a lot.

After them comes a long list of people I miss extremely and would do anything to be with them again. Luis, Jenny, Franzi, Teresza, Sara, The Exchange Student Gang, The Hauser Family, The Church Folks, everyone related to the Egerdahls.

I am going insane. And I do not know what is the cure to this malady.

Excruciating Pain

(This poem was my way of getting over some recent events. It didn’t help as expected. But it did lighten the burden. Thanks Osama for the suggestion. Here goes another depressing piece of writing.)

This excruciatingly unbearable Pain.
Makes any sane man go Insane.
Please Be Gone. Be Gone. Be Gone.
Leave me on my own, all Alone.

I try to Hang-On with Patience.
But my body Burns with Abhorrence.
My heart Bleeding. Bleeding. Bleeding.
My Soul Sinking. Sinking. Sinking.

No more Candles of Hope are Lit.
The Agony corrodes me bit by bit.
This Depression Termite eating.
Slowly Consuming. Contusing. Killing…

The Sound Of Death?

(I was going through my drawer when I came across this poem I wrote in Grade 7. I was a much better writer then than now. But I was all “EMO,” haha. All my writings from my past have always been incomplete. This one too. I will not finish them. You can notice that my old writings were more “artificial” than being close to my real life.)

I hear a sound.
Wolf’s Howl?
Or Death’s Horn?
But it soon came around!

Indeed it was death.
To take away my soul.
For Deed’s Toll!
And shut down forever my breath.

I begged for one more day.
To live and love one last time.
To give away things that were mine.
And tell my family that I cannot stay.

(Incomplete)

God versus Man

“The only biggest difference between God as a Creator and man as a creator is that God does not “lose” Himself in His creation.”

My State of Mind

(When I was talking to my buddy Osama Malik we discussed love and relationships. Only he can understand what this poem actually means and what is veiled behind these words.)

I know it's you
I'm sure it's you
The one I‘ve been waiting for
The one I‘ve been dreaming for

Love? I never believed in.
Fun? All that is to life.
Then How did it happen?
I'm putting my wrist to knife?

Ozzy transformed
Shehroz long gone.
A new being in making.
Old habits breaking.

This new being, a boon?
Only if his heart satiated.
This new being, a bane?
If his love killed and mutilated.

A plague I will become.
My emotions will be numb.
Like a statue deaf and dumb.
For all. Specially for some.

A rising tide
With unbelievable might
None will Oppose me.
None can fight.

Save me. Set me right and neat.
In my making put some sweet.
Or there will be no more beauty.
But only the mighty beast.

Olden Golden Days of Sunshine in the Rainy State

(I wrote this while I was waiting for electrical power to come back. Images of USA life flashed before my eyes. In memory of all the beautiful people I met there.)

Alone. All alone.
In the darkroom.
Thinking over time,
Long passed and gone.

Those days of laughter.
Glittering diamond days.
Eyes full of tears,
During final departure.

I look back with longing.
Those beautiful people,
To be with them,
One final time, once again.

Life moves on fast
Like a horse with wings.
Now I know for sure,
Good times never last.