Look, what failures can do to one.

Writing… well my DEAR Transmitter is no more interested in me, and I, myself on my own account was never much of a writer…! It has been almost a year that I would have been bestowed upon with a poem…

Even if I want to I can’t, I simply can’t write…!

I am such a child, its impossible for me to face a failure manly(womanly… whatever). one damnable failure (and not even a failure if you ask others) and everything start looking gloomy. I lose every single drop of confidence that I ever had…!

I want to write, I really, really want to write, any bullshit that’ll pacify me, that’ll make me think, that I am not dead yet, that I still have enough in me to be the person I always have wanted to be.

I am such an idiot as to destroy my hard work of months by negligence of days. I have a way of destroying whatever good comes my way. I have of letting go whatever success is destined to come in my hand, what is already IN MY HAND. I let the diamond slip as if it was sand, it is that easy to let go, and then that remorse, that regret, deep regret that kills, and never let you rest. you wake up every morning, and you don’t want to face the world, you want to sleep again. You secretly wish you never had to wake up, at least with this regret, you try finding a way to make to improve things, but nothing can improve you. You want to escape the reality, the failure, you want to run away, you hate everything that ever was connected with that failure.

Apart from writing, I have other passions too, my involvement in science. My childhood dream to become a scientist, funny? oh I don’t care about its sounding that way. But now I feel I am just another person, there are thousands like me, not even hundreds… thousands …! What difference I am gonna make?

Question: Am i capable enough as to make a difference, “even a little one”?  I beg in my heart, I want it, can’t bear it to be otherwise.

Question: would I be consistent enough? Do I have enough passion to last me there? I am very doubtful about me, I have my way of losing things, can not be sure about myself. I am not reliable.

I will not last long with this weak a will power.

Its breaking me to be apart from my friends, they were a constant support, I am without a backbone now, very limping. They had an essence in them that I fail to find in anyone else; being with an altogether different company is affecting me inwardly. I fail to understand why my dreams, my goals are loosing clarity just cause I am away from THEM. Why? so dependant…? The Yamna Rehman Khan who gives a damn to everybody, that yamna?

DON’T WANT TO LOOSE MY ESSENCE.

chchchchch

You people actually disappointed me…!

I am dead proud of Y..!

Sessionals from 15, God kows wat I am gonna do……!

dated: mar 2008

originally posted at Poetic personification Of Yours Dear

bull-shit out of  that solar panel thing idea

and even that before me…!’

On sale in Pakistan…!

Hope government  adopts some of the measures and hope that the company is a national one,

Enough of  the money is going out of the country, already.

PLUS POINT: I can always be the inventor of the better one….!

:p

yes the uni has started…..!

when would the formal studies start…..?

ragging part was fun, but,

Ok I am totally not in the mood………!

Leaving the moon and the nights alone in the dark that suns bestow…..1

HALLUJAH

WILL MISS YOU……!

daron wichr kr koonj kr laoundi….!

kher islamabad phnch kr baat hoti he

Allah hafiz….!

Amir Khusro (Architect of Urdu Poetry) was an author and inventor, composer and chronicler, businessman and swordsman, Sufi and scholar, musician and poet. “His mentor, Khawja Nizamuddin Auliya, one of the greatest sufi saints
of India instructed him to invent a new language to facilitate conversation and harmony between the local inhabitants i.e. Hindus and the new immigrants
i.e. Muslims from Iran, Afghanistan and Central Asia.

In compliance, Amir Khusro started composing verses by mixing up Persian with Brij Bhasha (an early form of modern Hindi). And by doing so, he laid the nucleus of Urdu Poetry. And the result was.

Ze haal-e-miskeen makun taghaful, (Persian)
doraaye nainaan banaye batyaan (Brij)

ke taab-e-hijraah nadarum aye jaan, (Persian)
na laihyo kaa-he-laga-e-Chatyaan (Brij)

Shabaan-e-hijraan draaz chun zulf, roz-e waslat chun umar kotaah (Persian)
Sakhi piya ko jo main na dekhun, to kaise kaatu’n andheri ratiyaan (Brij)

Yake yak az dil, do chasm-e-jadu, basad farebam beburd taskeen (Persian)
Kise pari hai, jo sunade, peyari pi ko hamari batyan (Brij)

Choo sham-e-sozan, choo zarra hairan, ze muhre-aan mahgushtam aakhir (Persian)
Na neend naina’n, na ang chaina, na aap aawe’n , na bheje patya’n (Brij)

Bahaqq-e roz-e wisal-e dilbar ki daad mara ghareeb Khusrau;
Sapet man ke waraaye raakhun jo jaaye paaon piya ke khatiyan.

couldn’t translate it, may I treat you with others hardwork,

mine someday else perhaps…..!

Do not overlook my misery by blandishing your eyes,
and weaving tales; My patience has over-brimmed,
O sweetheart, why do you not take me to your bosom.
Long like curls in the night of separation,
short like life on the day of our union;
My dear, how will I pass the dark dungeon night
without your face before.
Suddenly, using a thousand tricks, the enchanting eyes robbed me
of my tranquil mind;
Who would care to go and report this matter to my darling?
Tossed and bewildered, like a flickering candle,
I roam about in the fire of love;
Sleepless eyes, restless body,
neither comes she, nor any message.
In honour of the day I meet my beloved
who has lured me so long, O Khusro;
I shall keep my heart suppressed,
if ever I get a chance to get to her trick.

Why, I alone…….!