Nomad

Worst package

My head is aching, I am shaking
How many more blows should I be taking?
Let me know! I am asking, requesting…
I am suffocating;
Tired of waiting…

I wish God could take some time off of his busy schedule to read my poem! 🙂

The dream…

Another day another S#@t! Bad day at work. Happens to everyone; I am not an exception. I took off earlier than usual that day. All the way back I prayed to God. I had only one question to ask. ‘Will I ever survive long enough in here?’

I reached home with a heavy head and dumped myself on my bed. Before I could recap what had happened I had fallen asleep.

…”Aslam”. I suggested. It was a baby boy. The phone rang. It was my brother on the other side praising me for suggesting such a wonderful name for the baby. He said I had a gift or something and that I was good at selecting perfect names. A full blown smile had appeared on my face.

I woke up. “Aslam”? What? Why? That name would never make it to my favourite names list. Not in a million year. Not even close. Huh! It was a dream!

I sank myself in the easy chair that was sitting alone in the living room. Staring at the empty wall I murmured, ‘Aslam’?!

I jumped out of the chair pretty much scaring it to death and hurried googled for the meaning of the word ‘Aslam’. More correctly, ‘Islamic name meaning Aslam’

There! It appeared on the screen wide and clear: The meaning of ‘Aslam’ is Peace, Peaceful, Very safe, safer, safe-guarded, Safety and Security, Protected, Secure…..

“Voila! I got the answer.” I blurted. “Thank you God, thank you!”

I slapped a big smile on my face and walked towards the already frightened chair!

Favour

Sometimes in life you get a chance to repay someone who has done so much for you. Although you can’t do as much as they did when you were holed up…it’s noble to do whatever you can just to show them that you haven’t forgotten the favour.

Behind the curtain

Behind the glittering lights and metals
Behind the rich man’s lane
Lies a narrow street of petals
Where real lives thrives in pain

They know not I am writing of them
They care not I am in their midst
They’ve burried their heads in sands of time
And lost in the morning mist

Night out

Walking in a busy street is so much fun. So many faces with so many expressions. I pretty much camouflaged into the sea of souls. It wasn’t difficult to blend in perfectly. Within seconds I was just one of them. What more could I possibly ask for? I am an introvert that likes crowd! Or shall I put it this way, I like people-watching without me being watched.

Just when I was soaked in the sunshine of night I heard someone yelling “whore, whore”.  ‘How disgusting!’, I thought. More so, how embarrassing it is for the victim of such a public humiliation.

I looked around hastily. Unable to locate the epicentre I stood still. The yelling continued. “Pibe… seben…jeero…jeero”

‘Ah!!’ I gently slid my hands into my pockets and walked into the night.

Snap shot!

I sleepwalked out of my apartment building to grab a cup of coffee at a nearby coffee shop. On the way is this hookah bar where a barely dressed working-lady was lighting up charcoal. Because she was staring at me I cast a drowsy smile back at her. She screamed ‘eeeh!!’ and I took it as if she meant to say ‘Early morning??!!’

I snapped back from my sleep instantly. The red bull effect! I threw my hand and protested “NO!!”

She stormed inside with a hysterical laughter.