castle

Empty, noises, echoing, walls, black, spiders, Crows, a full moon, a castle, a broom, and a hat, I was up in the middle of the night, Flying was the white witch, laughing, out of the window, of the great castle, with grace, somewhere to the north. It rained, She flew over the clouds. She never came back. I own the castle now . 

Equal.

Equal were we!

 Equal were the hearts

 equal were the scars

 equal were the laughs

 equal were the wars 

 Equal were the tones

 equal were the songs

 equally we danced 

 We were so equal 

that we made a whole 

with fitting cracks 

that were not equal

 but they did fit. 

~Shafaq Shahid

Replying to a letter

I ll write till the day i see you, every cry i heard when you left.

 I ll write every line of misery with the blood you gave me. 

 You have filled my ink pot and gave me the slates as walls of my place 

and a stick you shaped as a pen.

 Everytime i dip it into the ink of your blood it buds flowers,

 but i sear I won't let them bloom but only on the slates. 

We don't want flowers without you my brothers. 

 I promise i ll write everyday and give you a book with pages equal to the deaths I witness after you.

 I hope I never get to more than a page and i pray that page is of my death. 

 As I want to write but do not fill my ink pot anymore.

 It ll flood my floor and it stares while I write with it. 

 Give me any ink but not red. 

 ~Shafaq Shahid

Depression

Mother: What! 

What is it? 

What do you see on the other side? 

Me: It is not just brighter, but it is blinding me with light. 

Mother: Is it relieving? 

Me: No but, it is not bad either. 

May be it will be better than here! 

Mother *in fading voice* : Ok listen. 

Listen to me, it is nothing there. 

All hollow! 

you ll find all hollow there. 

Come back, I am here. 

We are here. 

but there! 

There you ll find nothing. 

Me: But I see no one and nothing here either. 

I see no me, I see no us. 

*looking at her one last time*

So let me go there. 

Mother: But you have GOD here. 

Listen, beta, open your eyes. 

you have God here.

And he ll not be where you are going. 

Me: *without opening my eyes* 

HE IS EVERYWHERE. 

Ma' soud!

I write these lines on the slate of my old

house, 

that is too big for it is the door of my room. 

 I write all I felt, 

and times I wept ,

 and times I kept, 

 writing on the slate, 

 the words you said. 

As I said it too when u weren't there . 

I wrote when u weren't there. 

-Shafaq Shahid

Jhelum ka khwab

Na tere bayaa'n main nuks tha

na meri nigaah ki galti

Dhundh thi

Mujhay shikara dikha nahi

Na tune khwaab dekha 

na maine khwaab dekha

Hum soye bhi nahi

Tune suna nahi?

sab ro rahay thay

Us raat nind ayi hi nahi! 

jhelum ruka hi nahi

chala bhi nahi

bas thak gaya

~Shafaq Shahid

Khwab

Haerat to itni ki khwab main bhi 

har shaam unhein murda dekha. 

Ankh khuli, tab bhi, unhe Tanha dekha;

Aur mizghan ke piche har din banta

ek pyara sa mazaar dekha. 

~ Shafaq Shahid.

Injeer

Sham thi, hawa chal rahi thi, 

dupatta uda to laga koi sath khada hai, 

pattay hilay to laga koi qareeb agaya, 

Paas gayi to ehsas hua, 

koi akela baitha tha wahan, 

Pucha to jawab nahi dia. 

Bas royi, khoob royi

aur phir patto ki awaz suni. 

Wo mere samne thi.

~Shafaq Shahid https://t.co/e6m79fCDrv

Kashmir

Raat ek bura khaab dekha, 

khoon se dhula rabaab dekha, 

Lafzo ko jab uski dhun mai gaya, 

khudko usi khoon me laal dekha. 

Be-haal dekha, 

Be-qaraar dekha, 

Maine to Kashmir ka khaab dekha! 

~Shafaq Shahid

#Kashmir

Shopian

Rabaab thowum taakh'chas

waakh wan'ni draw'us, 

Waakh Le'khit raatas

be angnas manz aaw'us, 

waakh wanith o'ush aawum

rabaab anni wo'thus, 

Myon rabaab rav'rowukh

my'a taakh'chas ko'rukh soor

Yim waakh kas wan'ne waen, 

Myon Gar're korukh door. 

~Shafaq Shahid. 

#Shopian

The nightmares I had before and after blackout.

1. It was a cloudy day when we started the journey in the morning, enthusiastic, excited, and happy about going to the highest peaks my father would talk about , filled with snow, and walking sheep, a sight I would see all through the Eid coming. We board a bus, reciting "Hamud", praise be to my Lord, Allah . 

Unless we reached a place , full of sheep , with offwhite wool, And I jumped in happiness looking at a little lamb , and asked my father to get me one. The dealer was not a muslim , I did not know his religion. He did not sell it to us , unless we would do something unacceptable.  He wanted us not to recite "Hamud" on our way back . We refused the deal and started walking the rest of the slope for a better place , and lambs. I could climb some steps but then I fell down , I tried again , and fell down again , when I saw all my fellow men already at the high peaks. I screamed out , they did not turn to me, may be they did not hear me . I was left with the merciless dealer , who all of a sudden grabbed my hand , twisted it , and threw me down the mountains . 

I STILL DO NOT KNOW WHAT HIS RELIGION WAS. 

2. I was sleeping after my entire world was blacked out , we could not talk to eachother , we could not see eachother , I was scared that night , all I could hear was dogs barking and some footsteps . The footsteps scared me more than a gun could. As I fell asleep , I saw myself lying in my room, in despair , listening to the voices outside, screaming, weeping, angry voices. As I could stand up to see who it was, the door of my room opened so loud , and my my mother came in . She was bruised on her face , the left eye , the left cheek , and she was weeping. I asked her  "mama kyahai gow" , All she said was  "aes nai bachow! , asi nai trayan ". 

Believe me since then I am scared to sleep . 

No title

In the silence of the night , 

as I am awake , 

I am restless 

but I am calm. 

As the rain speaks hymns , 

and the roof beats the drums, 

as it is much of a noise, 

yet much of a song.

-Shafaq

No title

I have eyes bulged out , 

I barely can think , 

I do not know who I was , 

but I was someone warm . 

Warmer than the snow 

when it rests on your hand 

for a while. 

Warmer than the blood, 

that kept gushing for a while. 

Who was I? 

If I was , 

Am i now? 

If not , 

why? 

-Shafaq

A black dream .

Had a dream last night . 

Woke up in fear , with my lips shivering like the dry leaves of winter . 

My throat all dry , harsh dry , but I could hear the drops of rain outside. 

And I looked for a glass of water, I , as usual, had forgotten. 

Did not want to , but did dare to walk down the dark stairs of my house . 

An old house , with stairs of mud , that my mother decorated with fancy mats . 

Coming out of the bed , looked at the black gown my mother just washed . 

It was my favourite gown. 

It was yesterday that it was blooded by the wounds of a patient they brought in emergency last night . 

she was a young girl , had jumped off her terrace , 

we could not save her . 

Trying to forget about her , 

As I walked through my room , I could feel heavy steps . 

I laughed to myself , thinking of it as the weak walls of mud , I whispered

" Makaan yin wasith yee" . 

I had just done with the chuckles as I opened the door of my room , 

That I had shut too hard. 

As I stepped out , I looked to right , and, 

a window in the lobby was making sounds. 

Not sweet as a wind chime

not bitter as a whisper. 

I thought not to shut it , scared of something, the Djin may be or that girl . 

So I went down , slowly , down the weak stairs of mud , that my mother had decorated . 

As I went to the lobby downstairs , I double checked the main door and looked up the stairs once , to see if the djin had flew in and followed me . 

It was not there , and I did sigh for once

 " bachaeyas" 

And someone whispered " bachaeyakh".

But that was me , 

but that was someone repeating after me. 

My heart became heavy , and I could not call out to my mother , snoring in the kitchen, with, again, mud walls decorated with a spring purple color. 

I opened the door to the kitchen and did not wake her up . 

Drank water , twice or may be thrice , and was scared by my own "gallop" sound. 

I chuckled again and my heart not heavy. 

I closed the door slowly , as my mother was snoring peacefully. 

I again double checked the main door 

It was locked . 

Walked up the stairs and saw a huge shadow , a huge woman , with her hair all open . 

My heart skipped a beat and I realised it was my shadow and was huge cause my father had placed the lantern not much close to the ceiling. 

I chuckled again , in disgust this time 

"trathh ath batti" 

I walked fast and reached my door . 

I did mot want to but 

F***

I again looked at the window. 

I could see through the bars of the balcony through it . 

I could see two glistening eyes , 

and it was not a cat , 

It was wearing my black gown , 

it had torn it , 

It was wearing it prettier than me , 

but it was not pretty. 

I stared for two seconds and I had a heavy heart again . 

It started staring back . 

It was weeping and then 

there was lightening 

and I could see it's face . 

My eyes wide open , pupils dilated , my throat was dry again , after three glasses of water . 

I was looking at myself weeping in a black dress . 

I walked to the window and raised my hand to my weeping self , it looked down and 

as I followed it's eyes , I could feel no wall against me . 

I fell down and she smiled and as I screamed , waiting to hit the ground , and 

a song played . 

And my mother said , wake up , it is work time . 

My mother was holding my black dress and looked at me and smiled and she said , 

will you wear your favourite gown today . 

A LETTER TO GOD .

It  ain't the end ,

It can't be that soon , 

It ll have to be ' not this soon' 

for I have lot more to do .

Lot more , not wordly ,

lot more , not really ,

just a bit of this , 

and a bit of that .

This , sitting with the family for long ,

comforting my mother some more ,

listening to baba a bit ,

and loving my brother some more .

That , sitting with Allah a bit ,

oh no!

That would be a little more , 

a little more than This , the family part .

I did not yet apologise to him , 

for all the hearts I broke ,

or tears i caused ,

or pains i gave ,

or lives I paused .

Oh wait !

I paused my life , 

I did not play it right ,

I have been on the wrong song ,

for a lifetime , right? 

I was supposed to tune into Hymns ,

or praises of thee , My Lord ,

I m sorry I got caught ,

by that purely impure song.

I AM SORRY ,

Just give me some more time ,

I ll listen to the hymns ,

I ll memorise them ,

I promise ,

and then I ll say them out loud ,

I won't sing , I promise I,

l' ll just say them out loud .

Just some more time.

I did not yet talk to Him ,

talk to Him about how life was here ,

I loved it though , but i loved it too much ,

too much that it took my love for you away ,

I am sorry it did , but it didn't take yours .

No , it did not take yours , 

for you love me more than mama right ,

but seventy times more , 

yes you do you, promised me .

Mama would give me time ,

she would wait for me to correct 

all the wrong I have done,

You love me more than her ,

won't you give me time? .

I have a lot  more to say , 

but my eyes are blur ,

I am sorry I can't write more now ,

my eyes are more than blur.

They are ashamed of the things they saw me doing ,

they are scared for me,

for I disobeyed , 

all the things You said ,every bit of it ,

but I would make then right .

If only You give me a bit more time .

Please just give me a bit more time ..

-Shafaq Shahid

A cry .

It does not pain anymore if my scars get scratched ,

does not pain anymore ,

does not pain at all .

I do not cry when a loved one leaves to never come,

I do not cry anymore ,

I do not cry at all .

I do not search for the things i lost at the dusk anymore ,

I do not search for dawn ,

I do not wait for it at all .

I do not shout if they hit my bossom with the bullets of the world ,

I do not search for the life, 

I do not want it at all .

Why does not it pain anymore ?

why does it not feel anymore? .

We lost so many , and cried so much ,

we waited for so long , and hoped so much.

Why do not we hope anymore?

why do not we wait anymore ?

I don't !

Do you?

I bet you don't .

Don't you like it in the winter as u liked it in spring ?

I do .

Don't you like to keep hidden than to whine all your songs?

Do you still write songs?

I don't !

I wish you also don't .

They ll weaken you to bones 

and give you nothing but hopes ,

 that will never come to life 

and will never let you find ,

What you lost in the dusk .

Did you find it ? 

I bet you never looked for it , 

as you always looked for dawn ,

and someone took it 

while you celebrated the new songs.

I told you , don't celebrate songs . 

 

Life

l Far down the mountains , we have meadows .

Meadows of peace , down the mountains of grief. 

But you ll have to walk, a little far .

Far above the clouds , is the sky all blue .

The Sky happy blue , above the dark smoky clouds .

But you ll have to fly , a little high .

Far beneath the sea , are the lands buried.

beneath the sea of whines , are the lands of rhymes .

But you ll have to drown , a little deep .

Deep in that sleep , is a dream .

In a sleep of misert , a dream of smiles.

But you ll have to sleep a little longer .

Deep in that face , is a heart.

under a vile face , a lovely heart .

But you ll have to feel , a little tender . 

It ll be far ,

all good will be far ,

or deep,

or beneath,

or high above , 

Try a little more. 

So called humans .

Humans are never appeased , we are never content with what we have.

While some bawl for a gone ally, some bewail for a dead father. 

While some have no money for a gadget , some yearn for a slate.

ALLAH said that look for menias in this world and for majors in the hereafter .

Our comparison is to that clod who looses a thing in a cave and comes out in light to find it ; but won't act sane enough to take light into the den. We seem even blunt and I be even more obtuse.

I pity thy being 

That vandalizes ones felicity

But prays and PAYS for ones rupture

The rhyme

i would die for it one more time , or a million , or everytime ,
I would die for it everyday , in every way , to only rhyme ,
My name with the name of your's , and my whines with the songs u sing ,
or match the dusk with the dawn ,
if it was fine .

Fine for you to lend me your songs , fine for you to give me your name ;
Would it be fine ? .

I would stand for an hour or a day or two ,
would make it fine to you by standing there for a lifetime .
For i long for no name to rhyme with me but yours ,
no songs to have my voice but yours ,
it would be more than fine to me though ,
it would be more than life to that  of mine ,
if only for u it was fine,
to be mine ❤