Poetry

"In my dreams, you're mine.
In reality, you’re only my dream."
-Nizar Qabbani

وغالبًا ما تكون الحياة في أبهى صورها حين نغمض أعيننا ليلًا ونغرق في النوم 🖤

Any tips on how to get good at writing poetry?

"There are people whose attractiveness lies in their minds, in the way they carry themselves, and in that quiet composure that makes their presence distinctive. You speak with them and find meaning in their words, dignity in their silence, and courtesy in the way they disagree with you without diminishing you.

They know how to listen attentively. They seek to understand before judging, and they know when to say the words you need to hear, at exactly the time you need them. True attractiveness is not always found in facial features. It may instead be found in a mature mind, profound awareness, and refined character.

It is when a person’s way of thinking makes you admire them more than their appearance does; when you feel at ease with the way they treat others, and you respect their presence even when you disagree with them. Some people do not speak much, yet every word they say leaves an impression, and every situation reveals a kind of beauty deeper than what the eye can see.

There are those whose beauty attracts you at first sight, but its effect fades with the passing days. And there are those who draw you in through their mind, their spirit, and their presence, and they remain in your memory no matter how much time passes.

And this is the kind of attractiveness whose effect never fades: to see in someone a mind you respect, a soul in whose company you feel at ease, and a presence that makes you say to yourself:

'How beautiful it would be for this person to become a part of my life.'"

The book once open can never be closed. Not like a door, bidirectional, the book is multidimensional.

Read between the lines, feel the imagination, live the imagination.

Close your eyes but open your mind. The book once open can never be closed.

<CUSTOM_BOLD>#SiblingsBond #IzharEUlfat #Nazm #ExpressYourFeelings #MJGA</CUSTOM_BOLD>
🔴Izhar-e-Ulfat Pending Na Rakhein, Jaani
"Home is where you are loved the most and act the worst," said Marjorie Pay Hinckley.
Do you think that's true?

Naah, I ain't spiralling on anything today. 😅 I simply did what needed to be done. I told my people how invaluable they are to me. And it wasn't even a special occasion. Why wait for one when you can make an evening special?

I came across a beautiful exchange between Mufti Taqi Usmani Sb and his sister steeped in affection, respect and warmth. After her rukhsati, he missed her dearly. So, he finally put those feelings into a nazm, which he recited to her when she visited her maika in Karachi. She later returned to Lahore and replied to her little brother in the same poetic spirit, SubhanAllah...

Ab mere mein itna fun kahan ke apne jazbaat ko alfaaz ka khoobsurat libaas faraham kar sakun...
So I saved the piece. And thenwent to my sister's home and recited this nazm for her. 😊

Sometimes, you don't need the perfect words of your own. Just copy-paste something good and let your loved ones hear them from you.
Shortcut lena hota hai, Bhaisahab!!! 😌

🔶Chhoti Aapa!

Chhoti Aapa! meri is nazm ka unwan tum ho
Tum ho is bazm ki tazayyun ka samaan tum ho

Hazrat-e-Walid-e-Majid ki nigahon ka suroor
Walida ke rukh-e-pur-noor ki afshan tum ho

Tum se behnon ke dilon mein hai tarab naghma-e-sara
Bhaiyon ke liye har dard ka darmaan tum ho

Mahr-o-ulfat ke phool mehkate hain jahan
Haan woh gulshan, woh gulistan, woh khiyaban tum ho

Jis jagah shor hai insaanon ki afzoni ka
Us jagah mein bhi jo milta nahin insaan, tum ho

Be-rukhi aur lagawat ke un andhiyaron mein
Roshni jis se hai, woh shama-e-farozan tum ho

Tum se hai meri nazar mein rukh-e-hasti pe nikhaar
Jis se hai bazm-e-mohabbat mein charaghan, tum ho

Tum se chonk uthti hain armaanon ki nauras kaliyan
Eid ka chaand ho tum, subh-e-baharaan tum ho!

Loriyon mein bhi mujhe dars diye hain tum ne
Haan meri behen, meri dost, meri maan tum ho!

🔶Chhote Bhai!

Chhote bhai! meri is nazm ka unwan tum ho
Aankh ka noor ho, taskeen-e-dil-o-jaan tum ho

Tum se maike ki fizaon mein hai ek kaif-e-nishat
Kya chaman-zar hai woh jis ki bahaaran tum ho

Aankh ka noor ho, walid ke jigar ki rahat
Walida ke liye taskeen ka samaan tum ho!

Bhai ke khoon-e-shujaat mein hararat tum se
Aur behnon ka machalta hua armaan tum ho

Sab se chhote ho, tumhein pyaar hai sab ka haasil
Hai dilon par bhi hukumat, woh Sulaiman tum ho 😊

Dekh kar tum ko mere door hon sab ranj-o-mahan
Bhool jaaun jise paa kar gham-e-dauran, tum ho!

Hain mere gulshan-e-hasti mein bahaarain tum se
Kisht-e-dil jis se hai sairaab, woh baran tum ho

Tum se khilte hain ye armaanon ke nauras ghunche
Jis mein ye phool mehkate hain, woh daaman tum ho

Dil hai ya ilm ke anwaar ka aaina hai!
Dars deta ho jo paiham, woh dabistan tum ho

Jahl-o-ilhaad ke barhte hue andhiyaron mein
Roshni jis se hai, woh shama-e-farozan tum ho

Algarz hamd usi zaat ki zaiba hai mujhe
Jis ka inaam ho tum, Rahmat-e-Yazdaan tum ho

May Allah swt keep our hearts threaded to one another and may we keep choosing each other again and again, despite life's trials...✍️🤲✨

You may share your little stories from the weekend too? 👀

For my little sister Reena...

Title:

Little chirping bird

Ah, fold your wings,
close against your body,
so that they may enfold
and protect your heart.

You speak tender words,
lighter than a wisp of cloud
on blue-sky days...
of imagery
from your land,
your boundless spirit
calling endlessly
for love—
a melody weaved
to connect time and place.

oh if you could see:
you are
the love in this world.

Much love to you, little birdy. 🕊️

In this world,
Somehow bold and weird,
Kinda resurrected and triggered,
At the end just surrendered and deceased.

Fireflies of Your Memory
By Poet: Faris Ahmed.

The fireflies of your memory linger upon my lashes still,
And every wound you gave me remains as deep and fresh as ever.
You once claimed that we were friends,
You once promised that our love would endure.
Yet the people of your city, it seems,
Are those who turn away from promises.
I am so utterly scattered; come, gather me back together.
I have heard that when it comes to parting,
You are unmatched, an expert in the art of leaving.
How strange is the tyranny of love,
How strange the customs of this world.
Even my resolve to forget you
Has itself fallen into pieces.
How long shall I keep searching for myself
Amid the ruins of my own being?
Under the burning weight of your sorrow,
All my dreams have melted away.
Come, let us finally admit it.
I have lost the battle of love.
For you are, after all,
The victor of a game you had already won.
But listen, my friend.
If I am the one who lost, what have I truly lost?
I take pride in this much,
That you were the one who defeated me.
If ever you find a moment of leisure,
Turn back and look behind you.
Perhaps somewhere in the dust of your memories,
You may find that I, too, lie scattered there.
And those hours of union,
Those moments of closeness we once shared,
They, too, were scattered
Amid the spectacles of your indifference.
I had placed my faith in the rarity of our love.
I believed it was something beyond compare.
But you, too, it seems,
Have become another shifting color of this fickle world.
Come, then, let us accept the world's old decree.
You are now a stranger,
And I, too, am a stranger.
There is no longing left,
Nor any complaint.
If separation was written in our destiny,
Then so be it.
We have parted now.

Seriously

Unrelenting Storms Upon Our Shores;
Tony DeLorger

And still the waves come,
surging life and conspirators run to ground,
aloof, ambivalent airs in stoic stance,
beating hearts and fears resound,
to let us know we are alive,
contrive to navigate the ragged planes
of earthy plights, tonight in silence bares
respite but not restored.

As life and time allied in purpose,
run the gauntlet, disperse
the warriors from the nave, to glean
survivors from tirades of living hell,
unleashed in parallel on earth and heaven,
and as the enemies arrive,
the stoic stand to fight
and honor their names in earthy pride.

We can but be of courage,
to bare the hell that offers life to flourish,
if only to resist the angered thoughts that astray do lead us,
in revenge of all that impedes us,
all that implores us off our given paths,
to know the pain of failure,
the sting of loss that loses hope in hearts,
and leaves us stagnant and apart.

Tis we who must change,
for the waves are relentless,
the storms upon our shores, endless,
and stand we must to face them, one and all,
for kindness to ourselves is rare,
but a saving grace that in our care,
can transform all we see,
finding good in everything, our future sure to be.