The beloved, in this dimly lit room.
Has been a friend of my eyes.
And when you left, and me.
Your memory, became an enemy.
That lurks around here, in silence.
And I wonder how can it all arise,
My hell and my heaven, from you.
And you and your smell, clinging.
Onto those dead branches, painted.
On these dimly lit walls, together.
I sprinkle drops of water into them.
From my moist hands, and yet.
The life onto them returns not.

-

Somewhere. Here, a tear drop of the evening.
Slides over green blades, in the morning.
When light fills its soul. And here i am.
Back at your door, with a writtem poem.
Captured in the flow of confused, shy tongue.
While my heart fluttered, unrhythmic
Like a caged bird, with flickering hope.
And a tinge of free sky, among tired wings.
I am back, with cold drenched feet
That walked over dew drops,on my way here
To your door

-

A storm raged within my soul.
The waters of my heart flowed back.
I walked on the river bed of Nile.
Egypt, the head of sphinx had fallen off.
Sudan, the music was gone. Tea stalls left,
To die, in khartoum. where the white,
and blue blood of the river met and danced.
And made love. And together were Nile.
Like Layla and Majnun, long gone.
Yet the story immortal like history.
Like civilizations found on its banks.
Buried under dusty time, like a beautiful.
Memory. Like peace of my heart.

-

At the jehlum of soul, where thoughts flow.
Like blood of innocents with coldness.
The waves questioned, the bird inside me fluttering.
All colours inside me, sat on the banks, like people.
And what is not to be beholden, the dusk always paints nostalgia.
The silent prayer starts, the hymn joining the river.
The moon arose, from the mirror of jehlum water.
And who are you? Was asked, the dusk was gone now.
The dark filling me silently. Like sins.
The soul replies, i am the vast desert of nothingness at day.
The life always crawls out of it beyond the eye of sun.
Beneath the sand, in patience, it lies.
The hearts coughed out, million desires and a hundred songs.
I have roamed the streets, the wanderer never stops.
His bowl clinks of coins of peace and knowing.
The nights are cold here, my journey is long.
Blanket someone, he begs. The blanket of company is warmer.
The mind from the folds of his pheran took out his kangri.
The coals within were burning white and red.
His face blushing, the sweat drops on his forehead shone in moonlight.
And he said, the dusk is a chaotic blend of everything.


Umar R.

-

My heart calls my soul.
I am summoned to this dark court.
Of my own million lies. The masks.
Bright masks, scaring my own soul.
My colours painted onto them.
Derobed me. I look scary to death.
My eyes peirce my story. Where?
Where did I start? To love myself,
In untrue love. And even you.
I will wash myself, my heart.
At the ghat of another world, the junction.
Where i will meet myslelf again.
My true soul in true love of my heart. And you too.
I can paint it. The moment.
I see my distorted colours flowing down.
My eyes cleared of cataract. I see again.
With weary shades, the old sun.
The sun that kissed my forehead.
On cold kashmiri mornings.
My heart lived there once, in true life.
The scars return, the pain again at its mention.
I'm covered again in true dread.
I have seen flowers been plucked.
At the garden of our home, in violence
And blood.
The stems still bleed and our saffrons painted red.

-

أول
Mein likh'un hi kya, mein bata'un kya.
Mera rasmul khat toh hay masaan.
Mere zuban mein ho jab sirf aah.



دوم
Ki chale hay jidar ko mere khushi.
Vahan ki hava bi na aayi kabhi.
Tumhe agar mile ho to tumhe rahko.


سوم
Ki khushi ki humein yaad aaye hi kyase.
Jis'sae nahi milae, usse pukare bi kyase.
kabhi na mile, humein usiki khushi.



عمر ر.

-

I am the colourful eye of child.
Sparkling with stars of fireworks.
And yet I am the fluttering wings.
Of the bird, with the scared soul.
I am the closed eyes, tightened lips of afire excitement.
And yet the confused dance of panicked heart.
I am the million desires, a thousand dreams.
And yet I am hundred questions and even more answers of nothingness.
Where shall I seek you, o you that I lost a long ago.
O you that returned yet not long ago in me.


Umar R.

-

Siyahi khoon ki, ki jab woh suoukh jaye.
Asmaan ko rang diya hay, aftaab bi dhoub jaye.
Ki phir kya baat hay roh e tabassum ki mere.
Kafan kay tah tale khushi mere, firaaq mujhe hi maar jaye.
Firaaq e yaar nahi, intizaar aur hi hay mere.
Sukoon do dhoondta houn, vasl mout kahein hoo jaye.



عمد

-

And even dignified is,
The dignity of dignified.
When the insincerity of,
The insincere is forgiven.

-

My eyes. Pearls do not shine in darkness.
My being borrows eyes and heart to love.
The bird within me is drenched in the oil.
Its wings matted, hate preys on it's vulnerable soul.
The ship of war has crashed at the harbour of peace.
The dal, the jehlum is covered with the spilled oil.
War; new hearts are burned in the fire of it's pain.
Young birds; fresh wings despoiled by spilled pain.
My heart. Dal does not shine on a moonless night.
Where shall i borrow the torch of humanity.

Umar R.

-