Black Heavy Boots

With sewed lips and glued eyes she’d put her first quivering step on the stairs of cellar. Before climbing down, she’d leave her mortified ‘self’ on a shelf beside the cellar door. Her exhausted 10 years old corpse would soon drag itself down to the cold ground where sinful darkness would cloak her.

A pair of black heavy boots would instantly follow her down. The sound of their hammering knocks matches the rhythm of her thumping heart. As it reaches more close, her frightened heart rips apart her chest and falls right in the middle of his feet. The bleeding that follows would be far less than the one that happens just before he leaves her there.

His hands reach for her clothes. Her body turns to a rock. Her heart would squirm like a fish out of water, lying right beside her as the water in her stone eyes dry out. Her teeth would bite hard into the flesh of her rosy lips.

A tough blow from one of his boots makes her alive again.

She draws a long burning breath in, in a desperate hope of it to be the last one. Hope laughs. She falls into the arms of despair yet once again.

On the way back, she never forgets to take back her ‘self’ from the shelf beside the cellar door…

————————————————————-

She helps her mother cook food for her father. It is time for her mother to go to her teaching job. She want to beg her not to go but she can’t.

As she serves food to her father, she could feel a burning sensation on her skin where he stares. She looks down on his feet.

His black heavy boots are covered in blood…

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Almost 90,000 cases of child sexual abuse are reported each year. Out of which, 96% are known to their victims and 20% are fathers. (Advocates for Youth, 1995)

 

 

Happiness- My unusual side

                Me and my husband- Newcastle upon Tyne beach.

Happiness.

When a poor little girl, hungry for two days, wander from street to street in search of a single morsel of food, gets to a heap of rubbish and see a half eaten piece of bread. The shine in her eyes, that’s happiness.

When a father of two, who spent last ten years in a far off country to spend money for his family, climbs down the plane stairs to meet his children. That excitement on his face, that’s happiness.

When a rich businessman, after earning a truck load of money after an international tour for a month, enters his home at night to eat a simple meal prepared by his mother. The peace on his face, that’s happiness.

When a father, after waiting outside an operation theater for hours, hears a good news of a healthy daughter, that one drop of gratitude in his eyes. That’s happiness.

A hug by your father when you get good results, an excited scream after winning a game of ludo with your cousins, chatting uninterruptedly with your siblings while sharing a meal, simple moments of rejoice that we often ignore, that’s happiness.

Happiness can be triggered at any moment any time of the day with simple happenings. We often mistakenly associate it with big achievements in life. Or a state that remains forever long. We just have to fight with our selves to let ourselves feel it in a full way. All who laugh out loud every time are not necessarily happy and all who just smile when everyone laughs, are not sad.

‘Always’ is not a word suitable for it. Nothing can stay always. Nor does happiness. Restless souls like me keep sitting on a pile of happiness all their life while screaming that we don’t get it. It is us who can decide whether we want to be happy or not. It is like a switch that you turn on when you feel yourself worthy of it. When I was here, In Pakistan, I was in a constant state of depression because I never wanted to get out of it.Small bursts of laughter couldn’t change the state of constant denial in my mind.

I still punish myself sometimes by not feeling happiness around me. By pushing myself towards depression may be for showing loyalty to my life long friend. It feels good sometimes. You can even feel happiness in extreme pain. I definitely can.

Sitting in peace on green fresh grass while staring constantly at the beautiful blue sea water flowing to and fro, that’s my idea of happiness these days. I have started enjoying my solitude equally as I enjoy the company of the person fate has blessed me with. May be life can not get any better that this.

This article is written in response to Dungeon Prompts.

 

 

 

Rishtun ki laash ko lat patt khoon me dekha…..

Me ne jab doolat ki havas ko janoon me dekha

Yun rishtun ki lash ko lat patt khoon me dekha

 

 

Paisay ka laalach tha, dhuaan ban k chaaya hua

Ankhun me chubhta dard, seenay se lagaya hua

 

 

Kaghaz k tukray banaay maan ki ankh ka noor

Notun ka uncha dhair tha baap k dil ka saroor

 

 

Bhae ki muhabbat ka gala ghoont raha tha bhae

neela hogya tha khoon, laal hogae thi kamaae

 

 

Zameen o jaedaad ne khoompa tha kamar me chura

Naik seerat ki daaghdaar, achun ko bana dia the bura

 

 

Yun aj zindagi ki haqeeqat apni auqaat dikha gae thi

Khaloos ki qabar per mere dil me udaasi c cha gae thi

 

 

Jab paisay k ghulaamun ko hirs o havas k mun me dekha

Me ne tab rishtun ki laash ko latt patt khoon me dekha

 

This poem here was an impulsive reaction of brutal things going on around me. I don’t know why I have written it in Urdu and I don’t know why I have written it at all. It may have no sense, but it is an honest portrait of my surroundings.

Dark Mornings, Sunlit nights

As the sunlight shines through the sky, night falls.

She would open her big black eyes with no eye-lashes and try to listen closely to the mesmerizing music of ear-piercing cries. It soothes the grayish red stone in her chest.

She balances her heavy sobs with the rhythm of pain stricken shrieks that originate from her drumming heart and reflects through her eyes while flowing through her veins. Oh the melodious song that forms, so dramatic.

Her soul, a black shade of white light, punches the walls of body around it so hard that it cracks open and let it out to dance with the music of pain. The music of pain laughs out loud at the soul and holds it in it’s arms while whirling round and round like a dervish.

Vanished hopes, unheard prayers, unfulfilled wishes and broken dreams tightens their orbit and grabs her throat. The music of pain inside her starts evacuating itself through her mouth which she covers tightly with her own crooked hands.

Hours pass as she tries to fight this battle. She could feel poisonous snakes biting her face with sharp teeth. She smiles with fear, as she is tired of crying already.

Her heavy eye-lids start dropping down. It is dark outside when sleep blankets her. Morning’s here.

She looks Beautiful while sleeping. She is Happy… Yes she is.