Rage – Musarat Ali

ImageThere are days when I mask myself into rage, out of pain. A constant pain. Of your wait. Of your surrounding. Of your aroma. Of your delicacy. Of your beauty.

In those days, I turn to oceans. Look at them with naked eyes. And grow a feeling of you holding my hand. Those oceans then rage into my eyes. My troubled eyes. My awaiting eyes.

And then those questions, those unanswerable questions. I drown in them. Carrying my own fault. With my own luck and your very soul. The depth grows every second till I touch the soil. And become a star. A dying star.


Solitary, hope & you.


In the late afternoons, when the yellows of the sunlight turns orange. When the venoms of loneliness baste the walls of my home. Far… beyond the skies, your shadow glows and dims. Far… beyond your shadow, there is a fog of my hope. Hope, that glows and dims. 

Now, that hope has turned grotesque. It’s dress has been befouled. It’s face has scars.

Or perhaps, it is about to die. It is about to betray me. And leave me in Solitary.

In the loneliness, that dark, afflictive loneliness. Another hope scares me. It scares me with its love. And makes way into my heart. Perhaps, I’ve forgotten to love.

In the loneliness, and in its venom  That old, unattractive hope distracts me. Confuses me. And the new hope fights for it’s survival, fights for my attention, fights to be owned. But it might betray. It might ruin my heart with it’s beauty and perfection. It may shrink the shroud of my honesty.

Or perhaps I don’t understand it clearly. Perhaps I underestimate it. Underestimate it’s significance. Undermine its power. Undervalue its love.

All these thoughts and many fill me up. Ask me someday and I’ll tell you about those. Ask me someday and I’ll tell you about my new hope.

Someday, should it ever come.

Poetry, Random

When the silence enfolds me..

Out in the ocean, there is an island. Where dreams live. And in those dreams, hundreds of memories, thousands of conversations and millions of thoughts survive. They cherish the moments of happiness and live the eternal life. Life that is far beyond the laws, rules, norms, values and culture. There lives a single race. They speak a common language. The language of love.

There is no racism there. No gender inequality. No religion. No faith. No war. No crime. No time. No space.

When the silence enfolds me, I go there sometimes. To live my dream. To sense the purity within me. But I see there Him only. Him, the One. The eternal. Smiling.

Out in the space, where there is vacuum. Where there is dark matter. That no one can see. But He. The Creator.

When the silence enfolds me, I bow down to Him. And say You’re the greatest. He tells me then, to look within, there you’ll find me.

That island is inside me. I am the ocean.


Castle of Moments

The last time we spoke, we discussed the moments we lived together in past. Those moments are perhaps the best treasures I have in my life. Every single moment of it.

The moment when I use to make you sit in front of me so I could write poetry on you, on your eternal beauty and lively smile. And the moment when I read it to you. With your eyes down, smiling but attentive. Treasure.

The moment when we walked together. Those long walks. When you hold my hand and told me how safe you felt while I’m around. That moment we both hoped, perhaps, that time should remain still and we could walk all we can. Treasure.

The moment when we travelled together. On those long routes. On those long distances. When we promised we’ll never be apart. Will always be together, till the end. Till the infinite. Treasure.

Countless moments with countless memories paved in them.

Now that you are not with me, those moments are the bricks that have made the castle I live in. And those memories are doors that have kept me locked into that place. The place that is full of treasures.

I am now that Greedy King, who is afraid, if he goes out of that place someone will steal those treasures. Someone will infringe them.

Yes, I will stay there forever. That is our place. Where no one else has right to be. But you and me.


Be with me..


When the night comes, when the dark, desolated, grieved night comes. Singing ballads of grief when the night comes. You be with me, in my arms. You be with me in my soul.

When the blood of skies drops on me and when it becomes ointment for my wounds. You be with me to till they heal, till this heart in my wounded chest comes alive. You be with me.

When this sadness comes, covering me in its dark cloak. You be with me till it vanishes.

But if you don’t.

That dark, desolated and grieved night will clasp me in its power and enslave my soul. Those wounds will stay unhealed. And this heart will remain waiting, waiting to be alive. Until you come and set me free again. Until the death comes knocking and until my bones turn dust.

Stay close. Stay with me. Until the death. Until the end.


…… Endless you.

Really? Why is it that when I always write about you, I can’t find any subject.


I’m being asked by almost everyone now. About forgetting you. Silly. No one knows how many pages I have written imagining you with me, walking, hand in hand, and your head on my shoulders sometimes. What about those endless lines of poetry, written in your presence, with your eyes in mine.


You are in me, like an incurable disease. That will grow with time. It has no ending. Not a bit. And I want to live with it, until I’m alive. Untreated.


Every moment, we spent together, have become contagious in my memory. Spreading vast, every second. The roots of these memories have grown old like those trees in abandoned temples. This pain has grown dark, darker than the moonless nights. This pain is perhaps the sentence I owe you.


But beyond this pain, beyond my sleepless nights and beyond every individual between you and me. Sometimes I feel we’ll meet, perhaps in the hereafter, perhaps in a parallel universe,


This is the reason I keep myself happy. That moment has given me the confidence to live with a smile. The smile of hope. That we’ll meet one day. We’ll become One, one day.


Forgetting you, oh well, it can go darn itself. You are with me and will stay forever, until that moment. That moment when those old trees will have flowers, that abandoned temple of my memory shall welcome visitors. Visitors, who will ensure your presence with their prayers. In another life, in a parallel universe when your lips will call my name, I shall be with you. And that will be forever.


Then I’ll make you read those moments that I have engraved on pages. Endless are they.


Charms on Me..

I thought today of writing something about the evolution of humans turning to restless monsters but then I thought not to spoil my beautiful blog 🙂

Actually, all day today I was listening and reading to the poetry of Shah Abdul Latif, a veteran Sufi saint, Sindhi Laurette and philosopher. Apart from his Sufi teachings, his theology on human science and the understanding of nature and The Creator itself has so much impact on Sindhi literature that people in Sindh bow on his grave. He is widely known as the father of Sindhi literature.

His words have soothing harmony and complex understanding. His way of storytelling was incredible. He did it so beautifully that even the words that he chose for evil characters were dark in nature.

I have a condition. Quite serious indeed. Whenever I hear or read poetry in which words are carefully selected to shape a perfect harmony and philosophic meaning, I just can’t forget them. They reside in my brain for a very long time. I seriously feel the words are speaking to me. Very loudly.

Since morning, I’m in a grasp of a line of Shah latif.

Haq haqqeqi hekro, Boli bee’a men bhall’i

Which means, the Truth is One, Doesn’t matter what’s his name in any language.

This grasp can only be treated with an other one. There is no ending of it. I was under the charm of another line of words from Faiz before:

Chashm e Namm, Jaan e Shooreeda kaafi nahin,
Tohmat e ishq posheeda kaafi nahin,
Aaj bazaar men paab’ajolaan chalo..

Which means, tears in your eyes nor your grieved life are enough, a layered allegation of love is also not enough. Today you’ve got to roll on your knees and pass the crowd.

When these words mix with classical raags, their instinct on me becomes even worse. A complete silence takes over me. Unwillingly.

Listen to this one:

I don’t need any medication or treatment from them. These are perhaps my medication to help me get rid of evils of this world. And stay positive. Perhaps.