Arzoo

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میری زندگی کی ویرانیوں میں

ان حسرتوں کو اب کم کرو
اس دهندلی سی تصویر میں 
خوشی کے شوخ رنگ بهرو

یہ جو خواهشوں کا ہے سلسلہ
یہ جو آرزوں کی قطار ہے
اسےدل سے آگہی کا  پیام دو
اسےاب تو کوئی تمام دو

یہ جو اداسیوں کی شام ہے 
میری محرومیوں کے نام ہے
اس دلکش سحر کی ہر کرن
میری بےبسی کا جام ہے

لبوں کی جو مسکراهٹیں تهی
جو دلوں کی ساری چاهتیں تهی
میں کهوج ان کی کیا کروں
کہ فنا ہے ساری ملال میں

میری معصومیت هے اب خاموشی
کہ یہ جو ہر طرف سے ہے بےرخی
اسے کیسے میں یوں گمان کروں
کہ زندگی ہے اب اک عذاب سی

ان ننهے ہاتهوں کی یہ لکیریں
جو ندا تهیں میری مسرتوں کی
وه مٹ چکیں اب ان مشقتوں میں
کہ یہی ہے اب تو نصیب میں

وه جو مدرسے کی چاه ہے
اسے یوں ہی دل میں پناه دوں
کہ جو آرزو ہے کتاب کی 
یہ فقط میری ہی طلب رہی

اس زندگی کی دوڑ میں
!میری آه سن لے اے خدا
کہ جو محرومیاں ہیں ان گنت
انهیں تو ہی کر لے اب جدا

میری تشنگی کو اب مٹا
میری مشکلوں کو تو ہٹا
جو یہ زندگی ہے اک سزا
اسے بنا دے تو اب میری جزا

Roman Script:

Meri zindagi ki veraniyon mein,
Ien hasraton ko abb kam karo,
Ies dhundli si tasveer mein,
Khushi kai shoukh raang bharo…

Yeh jo khwahishon ka hai silsila,
Yeh arzo’on ki qatar hai,
Iesay dil se aghai ka payam dou,
Iesay abb tou koi tama’am dou…

Yeh jo udasiyon ki sham hai,
Meri mehrumiyon kai naam hai,
ies dilkash sehar ki har kiran,
Meri bai basi ka jaam hai…

Labo’on ki jo muskurahatain thien,
Jo dilon ki saari chahatein thi,
Mein khouj oun ki kiya karun,
Kai faana hai saari malal mein…

Meri masumiat hai abb khamoshi,
Kai yeh jo har taraf se hai be’rukhi,
Iesay kesay mein yun gumaan karun,
Kai zindagi hai abb iek azab si…

Ien nannhay hathon ki yeh lakerain,
Jo nida thien meri musarraton ki,
Woh mit chuki abb ien mushakatton mein,
Kai yehi hai abb tou naseeb mein…

Woh jo madrasey ki chah hai,
Iesay yun hi dil mein panah dun,
Kai jo arzo hai kitab ki,
Yeh  faqat meri hi talaab rehi…

Ies zindagi ki dour mein,
meri aah sun lei, Aye Khuda!
Kai jo mehrumiyan hain aan gina’at,
Ienhay tu hi kar lei, abb juda…

Meri tishnagi ko abb mita,
meri mushkilon ko tu haata,
Jo yeh zindagi hai ik saza,
Iesay bna dei tu abb meri jaza…

(Written in accordance to CHILD LABOR. My attempt at Urdu Poetry.)

Published at: Revolution Flame

 

One Color, Many Shades

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It flew!
Bewildered and confused,
Without any despair.
That’s the Strength.

It danced!
Blithely and mirthfully,
When blooming spring arrived.
That’s the Love.

It worked!
Unfeignedly with devotion,
For survival of all.
That’s the Earnestness.

It defended!
Bravely with courage,
For the love of fellows.
That’s the Sacrifice.

Hopeless I stood,
amongst the woods.
When my eyes,
were greeted by
This aspirant being.
A niggling soul
But a ‘lot’ of;
Hope and Life.
Zeal and Ability.

I envied,
The Creator!
For this staggering Creation.
A sign of Zest,
A ray of Desire,
A pattern of Art,
A symbol of Freedom.
As if,
One color, many shades!

Published at: Revolution Flame

A Day In A Kid’s Shoes

In Accordance To Street Children Campaign Of Revolution Flame
A day in a kid’s shoes sound so much fun. All the beautiful toys, the luxuries, the pretty cute hang outs, the little mischievous acts, those pass time games, yummy food and what not. Sketches out like a pretty fantasy land or world of all factionary characters, eh?Hang on! Take a deep breathe, and come down to the ground of realities where there are some bitter and harsh truths to be faced. Yes, you’ve got it. I am referring to a cycle of some hours spent in the coarse shoes of that poverty stricken kid, who loiters in search of trash in our streets rather than going to school, who works at a railway station or a mechanic work shop or at a road side hotel to earn bread twice a day or who just live in the miseries of life, dangling in pursuit of a better tomorrow.

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Ok, whatever the case is, a day experience with a street’s kid is such an eye opener. The hours spent in the company of all those kids showed how it feels to live in a vibe where every second is uncertain; about the food, the livelihood, and the set up, the living, the health and every thing. How it is sensed when even after all the hard ships one still smiles and tries to live in an hour of glee. After listening to their stories, it was clearly depicted that these kids are the true angels. The hard slog they’ve to do in these tender ages is awful. Whether that is the task of lifting and cleaning at work shops or handling heavy loads at a railway station, running and selling goods at bus stops or loitering and tolerating the foul odors at trash dumps; nothing is easy, not a single task at all. Life for these kids is not as easy as it is reckoned. They’ve to work, every now and then, for earning to support themselves and their families. At the age of going schools and learning, rejoicing the childhood and spending a relax time; they suffer and see all the hard ships and tough time.

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It was a very different experience to sit with these kids; listen to their stories, share their burdens, spread some smiles and give away some tokens of love. Listening to every one
life’s tale, it was clear that they’ve to kill their wishes and desires most of the times. The spark of those unfilled yearning in their eyes narrated a lot. The sighs and craving for many luxuries and delights was clearly seen in their accents and talks. They are of the ages when kids go to schools, learn and enjoy the stages of growing up but they’ve to work day and night in order to live and let their families get a meal twice a day. It was saddening to see how they kill their wishes, their yearnings and the needs to support the families. It isn’t as they were not interested in seeking knowledge and going to school as every other kid’s second enlighten would be about the longing to go to school and get educated.

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The experience of spending time with them opened many chapters of reality; though smiles were spread on these wretched faces alongside all the love, laughter and endowment, which surely aided some colors in their lifeless pictures. It was a little step towards a long journey, which surely will lead towards the betterment of these poverty and misery stricken neglected beings. We’ve to add a bit of our part into this in order to make it an affective and a long run cause of positivism, love, betterment and improvising the lives of these kids, who are going to be the future of our nation and are surely the token of our tomorrow.

Photo Credits: Bilal Farooq

Published at: Revolution Flame

The Symphony Of Life..

 

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The upraising sound
of the riotous splashes,
The melodic peeping
of the joyous birds,
The shrieking cries
of the woeful lover,
The zealous frisson
of a frisky kid,
The lively glee
of the best buddies,
The soothing whispers
of the gentle wind,
The clarion calls
of a demanding sister,
The warming tone
of an affable mother,
The concerned tune
of a selfless father,
The naughty commands
of an annoying brother,
The voice of love
The speech of friendship
The syllogism of peace
All gathers in one piece,
Just to enrich and enhance,
The Symphony Of Life…

A Day With Street Children..

“We are passengers of the same boat, believers of the same dream, and followers of the same path and clouds of a single sky.
 For we are slum kids; with pure hearts, true grins and clear souls.”

– Hira Nazir

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It was yet again, another ordinary day. Cloudy weather, the rain, cozy bed, warm room, some awesome food to munch on, favorite Tv show and all the luxuries of life; how awesome and exalted feel it would give; while thinking about the kids of those well off families, I reckoned. But then, somewhere I was pricked with the thought of that poverty stricken family’s kids; where father is laying aimless, jobless and as a victim of drugs, mother is all weak and pale due to the malnutrition and having kids with no health care of her own self, where there is meal just one time a day and that too insufficient, where everything speaks of misery and discomfort, dearth and desolation and what not. Ahh, Sigh!!

A wave of thankfulness to the mighty Lord for all His blessings and a throb of compassion for all the deprived ones arose and traveled through my body, striking my conscience and heart.

For an instant, I thought about all those wretched, pure and innocent faces, living in the most revolting conditions of life in my village. Thankfully, the next moment was this delightful plan of arranging an event for them, where laughter could be sensed, smiles could be cherished and some hours could be spent in serenity.

So, with all the arrangements, I tracked my route towards my village. Did I tell you, arrangements? Oh yes, arrangements. Well, I took along all those colorful balloons, some gifts, sweets, chocolates, paints, colors, stuff for playing (though we didn’t play, as it was raining), and a lot more. After I reached my native house and stepped in; my sight was greeted by all those pale faces, epitome of poverty and underfeeding with eyes filled with desires and wishes but what I sensed behind the curtain was that peaceful, serene and actual happiness even while all in distress and it gave a warming feeling for sure.

All of them gathered at one spot, not knowing exactly what they’ll do, but after knowing about everything, it was pleasing to see their response and even more cheerful to have the heed and interest. We started by sharing their stories; everything about their families.

And it continued…
Amina, a girl about 7 or 8 years was the only one among the party of 6 kids who was going to school. No, Ishaq, a lively kid of around the same age also was among the list of school going ones but it was only Amina who in real sense was literate and could write. She told about her family, of 3 brothers and one little sister, a working dad and a housewife mother. I found her quite different from the rest, perhaps it was because of her comparatively better livelihood. She told about all the mischievous her little sister Arfa does (who also was a part of this event and was happy in my lap most of the time.) Amina was the only one who wrote her name, herself on the card made by her later.

While balloons were distributed among them, it seemed as if they’ve got world’s biggest joy to be cherished. They were blown by them and we played. Every kid selected colors of their choice. Then were distributed the sweets, chocolates, gifts and all the goodies among laughter, grins and priceless smiles.

It was afterwards the time to munch on food. And it was amazing to see, that even though belonging to some illiterate families of misery stricken livelihood, each one of them was more or less well aware of all the manners of eating and sitting. After wards we jumped into the art’s hour. Every one of them took out colors and all the art stuff out of their goody bags and started to draw. Yes, draw! Though they weren’t aware of drawing but they did draw some most beautiful creative pieces. Yes, most beautiful ‘cause they were created with those little hands of pure angles with all their hearts and interest.

Meanwhile, Arfa, the youngest of all was continuously playing in my lap with the toys I gave her and yes the chatter box duo, the two brothers Ishaq andYasin were narrating their stories. Living in a family of total 10 members with not quite good livelihood, Yasin said that he is still happy. Though he doesn’t go to school because Ishaq goes, and it isn’t possible for his ordinary earning dad to send both of them and afford the expenditures. But he does go to “Madrasa”(school) for “Quran ka Sabaq”(Quran’s Lesson).

Baji, kabhi kabhi haalat bohot kharab hojatey hain, jab abba zyada ni kamatey tou phir hum khana bhi nahi khata.” (Sister, sometimes our conditions become real worse when our father is unable to earn much)
Yasin told me in Pushto, the story of one of his life’s days. He was one of the most lively and sensible kid for his age I’ve ever seen.

“Baji, mein hero wala eshtyle banata hun meri tasveer utaro.”
(Sister, I am making a pose like a hero, Take My picture)

“Baji, yun nahi utarta koi tasveer. Idher kharey hou sab. Iesh tarha ka eshtyle banao. Abb utaro tasveer.”
(Sister, nobody takes pictures like this! Everybody stand here, make this style. Now take the picture! :P )

“Baji, mein cartoon banata hun. Apko nahi aata mein sikhata hun.”
(Sister, I am sketching a cartoon. Don’t you know? Come , I will teach you)

These were some of the joyous hour’s conversations, in which this little kid kept on guiding me. Ishaq, his brother was a cheerful kid too. He actively guided all for “Ringa Ringa Roses”, “Hide and Seek” and “Chaam Chaam”. He also made one of the beautiful cards but asked me to write his name though being a school going on, he didn’t know anything.

Hasnain, an adorable, silent and much cute kid was also accompanying us. His innocent smile, deep eyes and pretty talks melted hearts. A quiet kid; who just remained happy to sitting beside me, and drawing and I couldn’t help hugging him again and again.
After the cards were made, they selected their favorite tag lines out of the queue I presented to be written on them.

Their were endless moments of joys, smiles, grins, eating, playing, photography, drawing, hugs, kisses, gossips, fights between the kids and then the settlements and a lot more.. The adorable smiles, the echoing lively giggles, the sweet innocent talks, their harmless desires and demands… Everything seemed to be so pure, so true and yet worthwhile…
They laughed, they smiled, they shared, the asked about many things, they learnt a lot… The learnt what love is, they learnt the value of their selves, their lives, their souls and above all their existence. Every kid learnt to respect, they learnt some little manners and points to apply in their lives, they learnt to love and be loved, to understand and value, they got the meaning of ethics, to be educated and what not.. In few hours they lived their lives to the fullest and yes their response showed it all..

It was indeed the most memorable day ever spent which would be written in pure and true words in everyone’s memoirs. Yes, they learnt, pronounced and understood one tag line the most;

“Lets Spread Love”
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At the end it was the time to leave. They were happy to say goodbye, for they understood with this farewell they’ve learnt much more to cherish than to be upset at. Hugging, wishing, greeting and making promises to meet again, we took a route to our ends, and they proceeded toward their homes with all the goodies and stuff.

While on the way back to home, a thought was stricken against the neural cells of my brain,

“How these true, pure and real grins can be saved in actual from the harsh gusts and the blows of misery?”

Indeed the answer lies in every single person’s responsibilities and shares to this cause.

#StreetChildrenCampaign
*IN ACCORDANCE TO REVOLUTION FLAME’S STREET CHILDREN CAMPAIGN, 2013

Event organized in: Peshawar,Pakistan.
Date: 2nd February, 2013.
Day: Sunday
By: Hira Nazir

KIDS PLAYING 🙂

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The Hero – YASEEN 

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THE CUTE – ISHAQ 

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THE BROTHERS – YASEEN AND ISHAQ

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ADORABLE ARFA. 

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SHE WAS NOT LEAVING MY HAND! 🙂

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WE LOVE STICKING OUT THE TONGUES!

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THE POSER!

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INNOCENT HASNAIN!

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AMINA’S ENTRY! 

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