Free Bird

Here is a piece I composed (on 12th Dec. 2012). I'm really proud of it.

 

 

Birds in this cage

Birds in this cage

With heads bent low

And wings that never tasted breeze

Starved of flight, starved of life

Too deeply chained in fears to know

They lived in a cage without a door



One bird cries

Raise your heads, oh brothers

We are all gathered here today

There is freedom on the other side

With eternal, free and limitless skies

We can flap our wings

To freedom, to glory and to victory

Masters of our own fate

Just step out through this gate

Don't hesitate

A journey towards the divine heavens

A flight to the mighty arms of freedom

A flight towards home



Fool, cried the rest in unison

You have no home save for this cage

Your untrained wings mean a steady drop

To your end, to the end

The sky so far, we cannot reach

And where will you find crumbs to eat?

What more is there left to preach?

Now keep silent, you deluded bird

Your silly dreams are too absurd



I feel sorry for you, my enslaved brothers

Your lives are confined to this cage

While eternal skies wait for me

You're afraid to fall while I believe

I see things you cannot see

As I step out and take flight

A flight to the mighty arms of freedom

A flight towards home



I am the free bird

I will wait for you
On the other side...

Remembering Home

Newest poem... Composed on December, 10th 2012.

Home
Beautiful home
Ages past, wrinkles formed
I craved to enter thy threshold
To breathe the childhood air
Fly high on fumes of nostalgia
Remembering home

Now what hast thou become?
A skeletal frame, rotting
And thy walls echo with haunting cackles
Dry, cold and terrifying
No more the warmth, no familiarity
Are these thy halls where once ...
This child's feet skipped?
Are these the corners
Once full of innocent laughter
Pouring in like sunshine?

Forgotten
Not mine
A home
Once I knew you, now no more
Goodbye, I loved you.

Dreamland, Stars and the Roar of Poseidon

Let's close our eyes a while
Awaken in a desert dreamland
Dancing our feet on shaking ground

Sky above us spinning around
See us, see us alive
Stranded all alone
But together for life

We see the starless sky hanging above
Lets blot white stars on black canvas
And light up our crystal dark heavens
See the stars in soulful romance
Winking from the sky, for you and I

Where the sun meets the sea
Rippling waters hit the shore
The roar of mighty Poseidon
And I'm stumbling to the door
Time to hold my breath, time to go below
Time to go below

Soul leaves the vessel for promises stronger
Leaves me an empty shell left all alone
Slip my consciousness in objects mighty gold
I am shapeless, left for you to mould
Make me, shape me to your desire
I am yours, only yours; not my own...

Haze

Written for someone very special.. Last line inspired and somewhat copied from the song "Crystal Ship" by The Doors.

Million stars, an only Sun
The dream of life has just begun
A constant battle, in the mind, of choices
Between brightest souls of two heavens
Two glorious heavens

Lets wrap ourselves in this haze
Take a ride far far away
Oh we can fly without wings
Girl hold my hand, let me take you
To the promised land

The wind beneath my wings
Taste of youth on my lips
And dead feet find life
Dry heart so fresh and alive
The Circle lies complete

Now lets close our eyes
Get washed away by the night
Dazzling dreams of blooming divinity
You soul of God, fresh rose of Holy Gardens
A mighty moment of bliss
In your kiss, in your kiss

The Lord of All Things

 Two months since my last post. I just had nothing creative and sensible to write about. I read a bit of Jim Morrison's poetry to get the creative juice flowing.

 


Fading away
A low whisper
A fearful gaze
A price to pay
A connection broken
A truth untold
A love unclaimed
A dream not lived
A promise not kept
A girl violated
A fatherless child
Bomb a place
And rubble lies
Eat me, eat me
With your cold, cruel eyes
But this is the end
The end of all lies
Give birth to hope
To love
To passion
To dreams
To freedom
Leave the ground
For the endless sky above
High above
Up above
Where lives the Lord of All Things...


"Oh tell me where your freedom lies
The streets are fields that never die
Deliver me from reasons why
You'd rather cry, I'd rather fly" 
- Jim Morrison

Dead Man's Song

I see this poem as a man's plunge to death and his frustration at being unresponsive and lonely.
How you guys see it, depends upon you...

                                                            Inspired by this picture

Broken glass, stalking shadow
A dream of life gone with the wind
The mother's hands have picked you up
Now sleep tight my only friend
Dream, dream,
Dream of a dreamless dream
Close your eyes, keep still forever
Sleep my child, don't wake up yet
What's to fear when night is near
When sleep will stop your pain and tears
Hear the emptiness of silent music playing in your ears
Can't speak the words not spoken before; again
Shadows that surround you, can they be filled with light?
Wish those words would come out right
If someone's there who'd listen...

Baba, The Time Machine And Hotel California

It's not often I'd write anything from my personal life but I guess I wrote this because I've been missing my dad alot today..

                                                           Baba in Sierra Leonne 2004          


29th June 2004.
8:55pm.
And I was thinking about how I'd celebrate my birthday on the next day (30th June). The gifts. The people to invite. I was especially excited about the fact that Baba would call me.
The clock strikes 9:00pm.
Grandpa: Silence! Let me watch the Headlines.

Helicopter crash in Sierra Leonne which included 14 Pakistani officers.

A dream. I remember confusion. Some shouting. Crying. Blackout. Phones ringing. People coming. My uncle letting me play games on his brand new cellphone which he never let anybody touch. Some more crying. People talking about Baba.

I knew what had happened and yet I showed no emotion. I didn't let a single tear fall. I dunno why. Perhaps I was in shock. Perhaps I was nine and too young to understand. I don't know still.
But it would be two days later that my aunt would find me behind a curtain crying, my head between my knees.

I went to a room. Saw my six year old sister lying on the bed, half asleep.

"Why are all the people crying?", she asked.
"Baba's helicopter crashed.", I said.
She stared.
"Yeah but he came out of the wreckage hand in hand with Uncle Imran and Mudassir (two people we knew from a dinner party)", I lied.
"Oh", she said. Then turned over to go to sleep.

2002, Our computer's desktop background was a picture of me and Baba.
"Look at you two.", said my Grandma when she saw the picture, "You both look so alike. The only thing you don't have is your father's moustache."
That was when I opened MS paint and painted a moustache on my face too. It looked ridiculous. It only ruined the photo but I made it the desktop background.
Mom didn't like what I did to it. But when Baba saw it, he laughed.
"Which one of the two is Baba and which one is you?", he'd joke.

2001, I was scared. Alone in the room. Dark, except for the green nightlight.
Baba came in the room and saw me awake. 
"Why are you still awake Buddy?", he asked, I could see his brilliant white teeth even in the dark.
"I'm afraid a robber would come and kill me.", I breathed.
Baba laughed. 
"Oh you Scooby Doo.", he said, "Nothing will come here when I'm around. I'll punch the robber."
Then he'd lie beside me till I went to sleep.


Funeral day. The guy in the army uniforms marched. One of them marched and came to me. In his hand was a Pakistani flag, neatly folded, and on top of that was my father's uniform and his cap.
He held it before me silently. I understood and took the stuff from his arms. I picked up the cap and wore it on my head.
Flash! Flash!
I saw myself on GEO, wearing my dad;s hat. I saw myself on the cover of a magazine, wearing the hat.
I wasn't excited to see myself on tv nor on the magazine.

"Hey look at our hands.", I said excitedly, holding Baba's right hand parallel to mine. Palm upwards, "Look at the lines. They are so identical."
"That's because you are the son of your great Baba.", he said.

I was watching a cartoon. It was about a time machine. I thought about buying one as soon as it was made. So I could go back in time. Back to the time when he was alive. And spend all my time with him again. 

He would sing his favourite song, Hotel California, wherever he went. In the car. In the park. Even after coming from the mosque. 

 Welcome to the Hotel California
Such a lovely place (Such a lovely place)
Such a lovely face
Plenty of room at the Hotel California
Any time of year (Any time of year)
You can find it here 

He would also sing a Banosi dialect song which I wouldn't understand.

Janwarhi le lo mazigar de na (*Don't know what this means*)
Razaii che khpal kali ta zu na mazegar de  (Come lets go to the village, It's not evening yet)

And his deep, friendly voice still ring in my ears. I can still remember the friendly face. The neatly trimmed moustache, the pearly white teeth and the rare mole in his eye.

Baba is still around me. I can feel him in the room. In the air around me. In my heart. In my soul.

Love you Baba...
Love you still....

Hamza; Not Hendrix

 Hi. It's been a long time since I published anything but I haven't had the chance to blog due to some personal reasons. 

 This post is a true incident from my life.

                                               Hendrix: One of my biggest inspiration and guitar hero.

  March 19th, 2012
 
"Is this your's bro?", I finally blurted out.
"Ahan", said the owner of the gaming zone.
I shifted my eyes back to the guitar ,placed in the corner, which I had been admiring since I had entered the shop. What a sweet thing it was. Classy, Simple. It was shaped just like my own but it looked more like how a guitar should be. Woody brown as compared to my own rust colored six string.
It's headstock was pointed upwards in a bluesy shape which made it look even more attractive to me.
"Can I play it then?", I took a step closer to it.
" 'Course" said the gaming zone owner. But I had already grabbed it's neck before these words even escaped his lips.
I held it excitedly in my hands. Turned it over. Brushed my hand on it's head. The wooden surface felt pleasantly cool beneath my fingers.
Without speaking a word, I grabbed the stool from one of the compartments and sat on it. I could sense the eyes of my classmates and all the other boys glued to me.
The first thing I did was pluck the third fret of the high e* string and use my thumb to pluck a bass note. I had started playing the intro to "Nothing Else Matters".
I was too busy moving my fingers over the frets, pressing them, plucking the strings and strumming to notice that the other boys had come closer and had formed a semi circle before me.
It was when I finished the intro with another bass note that I heard one of the boys from my audience say "Ai Oi".
I looked up. There were fifteen to twenty boys before me. All of them smiling and waiting for me to play something else. I turned my gaze to the left and found one of my classmate looking at me. Behind me stood my best friend. A little smile was planted on his lips. This was the first time he had heard me play the guitar.
"Nice one. Play Stairway or Freebird or how about that Dance Of Death solo?", he urged.
I stared at him. They were hard to play and I had an audience to please so I started plucking the guitar strings to play one of the easiest songs I could. Bilal Khan's "Bachana".
I could see the excitement in the boys' eyes. Obviously this was a song they knew. I felt proud. To be there in that room, with a skill none of the boys had was obviously a strong feeling for me.
I gained confidence and their interest kept rising. I was the star of the room. I was the king with the skills. I was the master of the riffs. I could play the guitar, they couldn't. I could make the heavenly tunes, not them.
It was at that moment when I felt like I was the centre of the world. I was the nucleus, they were the electrons. I was the Sun, they were the planets. I was the General, they were the soldiers.
I felt a mixture of emotions. The pride. The power. Oh the greatness of the moment. My veins pumped adrenaline in my body.
Every chord I played, every string I picked, I was taking out my feelings. Anger, Fear, Hate, Love etc. all coming out in the form of musical symphonies and tunes. The boys could feel it. I was letting them out.
The only feeling I still had intact was kind I had never felt before. It was a rage mixed with ecstacy. Furious joy.
I went out of my comfort zone. I played songs which were hard for me before. But this confidence guided my fingers over the fretboard. I played the barre chords, my fingers slapped the frets as they moved up and down, swiftly playing the scales.
I heard a boy whisper "Aala guitaring" to his friend. I closed my eyes and let this compliment wash over me.
I played and played for I don't know how long but I never wanted this moment to end. To be a centre of attention. I had sometimes dreamed of being a musician and here I was already tasting how it felt like. It was like I was living the dream. A dream full of unviolated pride and joy.
I was in the arena, playing a Fender electric guitar like Jimi Hendrix while millions of fans screamed before me.
It was the tap of my friend's hand on my shoulder that brought me back to reality. I blinked. I was in that little room and not in a concert hall. I was holding a Toptlon acousic guitar and not a Fender. I was Hamza and not Hendrix.
"Electricity is back. Come on dude!Stop showing off now. Grab a computer before anyone else takes your place."
I got up. Put the guitar in the corner, rubbed my hands like a soldier who had survived a war and had done great acts of heroism and followed my friend out of that little room and back into the gaming area.
"That second PC is mine", I said to my best friend and ran. I felt one of the boys from my audience thump me in the back in appreciation as I raced my friend to the computer.