there's a ghost in my lungs
and it sighs in my sleep
wraps itself around my tongue
as it softly speaks
Then it walks, then it walks
with my legs
to fall, to fall, to fall at your feet...

My Angel

When I was down in every way
You saved me a little everyday.
The answer to all my prayers
My little Angel you were there.

The good times are great
The bad ones not that bad
My Angel when you are here

Even when you annoy the hell out of me
I love you
At that very moment, I'm getting annoyed
And loving you to pieces
Because my Angel you are here.
Stressing and loving me
My Angel you are here.

You have redeemed this world for me
Just when I had given up on it
I have forgiven its cruelties and little disappointments
Life is worth living again
My little Angel now that you are here

I'm writing you this disjointed poem
To show you I do care
That you are here
My little Angel you are here.

Close Encounter of the Crazy Kind

I finally met some crazy Christians! So, my friend and I went on this double date the other day. We were on our way to get some Tibetan dumplings when the two girls asked to stop at the bible shop. Imagine my shock and surprise because I didn't know them at all(my friend had set us up) and I was really looking forward to the Tibetan dumplings being in my mouth. Not to spoil the evening, we stopped at the bible shop. They went in and came out ten minutes later sying that they just witnessed a miracle! They had arrived at the shop just as it was closing and the kindly shopkeeper had let them make a last-minute purchase. According to the two girls this proved that god is indeed real and answers prayers.

My friend and I just looked at each other. The chances of any action tonight were completely destroyed. Well, atleast we had the dumplings. So we got back into the car and tried to make the best of things. Suddenly, one of the girls started giving a long testimonial to the reverend over the phone concerning the miracle that had just happened. The other girl, seeing my obviously disgusted face, decided to "share her faith" with me, which rapidly descended into a debate about the veracity of the bible and ended in her praying for my soul and me wanting to strangle her. All this while my agnostic friend was interjecting with vigorous shouts of "Buddhism rocks!!!"

Incidentally, those turned out to be the worst Tibetan dumplings I have ever had. My friend and I went home courting headaches and upset tummies, all alone. Needless to say, we won't be seeing those two girls again.

Amazingly, both of those girls are assistant professors of Sociology at a good university. If I was religious, I would be praying for their students.

Stanley...

Us

How are you, my love?
My first, my only
Are you happy, my True?
I've been so lost, so lonely

But once a year you are mine, in a dream
When I can taste the winter-cream
On my lips, as if it was yesterday
Let me pour my heart out today...

Your big brown eyes,
I remember them so
The warmth in your embrace,
A promise to never let go.

Why to I do this every year?
Write you a poem and shed a tear
For the memory of us
When 'Us' ceased to be so long ago

That age of innocence and wonder
When we were young and the world, younger
I have to hold on to it, come what may
So I write you a poem every year in May.

How much longer can I carry this on?
My stubborn heart knows only one song
The song of 'Us' and our togetherness
Of perfect love and dreams of foreveness.

This stubborn, childish heart of mine
Does not know of surrender to time
Ah, time! Look how it passes
In rusty clocks and broken hourglasses

I am a different 'Me'
And your 'You' must be
Quite different too.

Did you find love or do you still
Look for the one who will
Sweep you off your feet
And give you kisses sweet?

I wish I could hold you,
Be there for you
Look in your beautiful eyes
And see that love again
A return to innocence

There is so much I have to say
But you are so far away
And it has been so, so long
People have come and people have gone

But you somehow remained.
Like a little warmth retained
From the dying embers of my life's spring
To give me hope in this world so cold
So unforgiving, so bitter, so old.
No telling what the future might bring

So this time of year I think of you
Those blossoming days, those 'tickets for two'.
Though grow up we must
I can wistfully dream
Of the old you and me
And a whole new 'Us'.

Fastest poem ever!

Main dard-e-dil shayari se bayaan karoon to kaise,
Kambakht zaalim ko Urdu bhi nahin aati.

Ghalib ka ghum, Sahir ki kasak,
In pannon mein jo ghulte hain.
Uske husn ki khushboo, mere jaam ka rang,
Ik pal ki jannat mein milte hain

Aankhon ki apni zubaan hoti to
Aaj ye maut nahin aati.

Hum to fakir shaayar hain, meri jaan
Kabhi shehenshah ke reham-o-karam
Pe zinda to kabhi dargah ke.

Silsila ye kismat ka ajeeb maalum hua,
Abbu ki tab suni hoti 'Falaq' ne toh
Ye quayamat kabhi na aati.



How can I express my heartache through poetry,
Bloody tyrant doesn't even speak Urdu.

The sadness of Ghalib, the longing of Sahir,
That dissolve in these pages.
The scent of her body, the colour of my wine,
In just a moment's paradise they meet.

If eyes had tongues of their own,
Death to me would not have come today.

I am a vagabond poet, my love
Sometimes the Emperor's kindness
I live on, and sometimes the mosque's.

How strange this plot of destiny has been revealed,
If only 'Sky' would have heeded his Father back then,
The End Of Times would never have come.

One great analogy I recently heard from an eminent Pakistani intellectual(one of the handful who make sense):

"Just like the feet of women were tightly bound with cloth at an early age because small feet were considered desirable in medieval China, the brain of the Muslim has been bound with dogma from an early age. By the time a Muslim man grows up, he is incapable of thinking for himself, because his brain has been crushed and unable to grow because that is what is desirable in Islam. If you put a powerful giant in a small enough cage for ten years, even he would come out hunchbacked and deformed and nonthreatening."

"Nonthreatening" being the key word here.

They say that Muslims used to rule the world, which is the biggest lie ever told. Certain powerful individuals ruled the world in the name of Islam. They plundered, raped, killed and conquered in the name of Islam, but the power and wealth and prosperity was only in their hands and their families'. The average Muslim has always been, and still is, an ignorant, poor savage who can be easily commanded into believing anything and then giving up his life for it. The average Muslim has always been cannon fodder in the power games of the ruling class.

They talk about how today's Islamists have "distorted" their "peaceful" religion, but history can prove that this culture of violence, plundering and conquest was started by Muhammad himself. Islam has always been violent. Islam has always been contemptuous of women. Islam has always been ignorant. Islam, unlike Christianity, is still waiting for its Reformation.