Aura.

Glass blown and sanded,
The feel of silk,
The smell of spring,
None can compare,
To the aura which you have ensnared,

The springs of Honduras fall short on all scales,
The suns radiance in your presence fails,
Your grace eludes even the black swan,
If you’re the queen, i’d happily play the pawn,

The wilderness flocks to your reside,
To the Olympians you are their pride,

None to your presence can compare,
To the aura which you have ensnared.

Even the Greek sculptors would fail to capture your beauty
The mystery, the allure all have their specific duty

How the clouds part to reveal the moon and stars,
Who are well aware that their spell has been cast,
Your arrival brings a similar magic,
To not stop and admire it would be tragic,

A sin I would not commit,
A whim to which I cannot submit,

None can compare,
To the aura which you have ensnared,

As flowers at the beginning of day
Like the moon beckoning the water astray

Crystal is my mind,
My feelings for you have me intertwined,
The epitome of excellence is you,
The model of all traits
It is true!

The conundrum now seems how to let go,
How to evade destiny’s call
How to turn away from my curtain call.

-Bilal A. Temuri.

A Healing Experience.

 

In a field of my insecurities and short-comings, she plants flowers. Previously, it would be left unattended to. No one to look after it as it grew more and more. Why is she doing this? She doesn’t have to waste her time like this.

With a whisk of her graceful hands, she masterfully composes art as beautiful as her existence. I try to stop her but the feeling isn’t like anything I’ve experienced before? I am loved and surrounded by a constant feeling of fuzziness. “Relax”, she says. I am stiff at first, but gradually let her consume all of me.

The flowers she plants are little parts of her own self. They merge into my dry field to grow instantaneously, almost like fruits that are only meant to be grown on a particular soil.

There aren’t many things that I am grateful for in this world but she is as transcendental as all of the objects in the universe combined. To have her in my arms can be described as feeling, all of the warmth of nature’s creations in a rub of our atoms.

You are the light of my eyes and the food to my soul.

So come into my arms and let me love you whole.

shams

 

 

-Asad A. Shamsi

BBA.

Within The Confines of My Mind.

I

Inhale…
I creep down the stairs
Inhale…Exhale…
There isn’t anyone there

The people are in bed
The house sleeps on
There is no one to stop me
As I leave home

Rich hues so blinding
Sensory nerves in overdrive
I breathe in deeply
Feeling almost alive

Gone are the black rooms
The suffocating darkness
Instead appear the wild paths
The rolling hills endless

Inhale… Exhale…
I walk tentatively on
Inhale… Exhale…
Deep into the illuminating morn

 

 

 

sidd

 

II

He speaks of time
Days yet to come
Stories and moments
That haven’t yet been spun
Of humans, happy
And battles undone

Surpassed sweet harmony
Wretchedness cast aside
The deadened homo sapien
Brought back to life
Voids refilled
Responsibilities recognized

Prevalent: Empathy, Humanity, Consideration
Melodious laughter, smiles untaxed
Is such eccentricity possible?
Sans being asked?!
Mass malady cured?
Altruism atlast?!

The world seems not so bad
In his soft lilting tone
But just as I am about
To ask of more
Down slide his hat and eyebrows
As he melts into the floor

Colours swilling around,
The unrecognizable cascading individual
Whilst the puddle flows away from sight
I blink unperturbed
Gone is the old presence
Departed; not unheard

Instead appear the hedges
Sweet roses so red
Hospitable thorns
I am tempted
But inhaling…Exhaling…
I stroll on ahead

 

 

sidddddddddddddd

III

Shrill cries pierce my reverie
Vine-y fingers encircle my arm
Shoulders shaken, the cacophony-of worry- fills my ears
Mutely, not protesting in alarm
I am dragged back by The Distressed
Back to my life-as they see fit
I try to speak but am silenced
Not allowed out of home since birth
Atleast not without an escort
Eons have transpired in their pointless worry
Visionless by birth, voiceless by the protector
(I realise) I cannot tell anyone of the things I see
For in my condition, who
In this world would dare believe me

-Sidra Zahid.

 

 

Anxiety is the friend who stays past dinner and doesn’t want to go home.

sara

 I thought she wasn’t going to stay for long

I met her at a park when I was 10 years old

She said she was lonely, that she needed a friend

So I held her hand.

My mother took us to the beach one day

She told us how the sea had strange powers,

that it reminded you how to breathe just by watching it.

She explained to us, in the way she told stories,

How the waves touched the rocks with gentle caresses

and landed kisses on the white sand.

When my mother turned away, my friend whispered to me

“It’s violent.

It’s violent like a monster.

It has so much rage. Like it’s angry at us.

At you.”

One time, when a teacher called me to her office

to discuss my work, my friend kept telling me

“You must have done something wrong.

You must have gotten a bad grade.

You must have spelled that word wrong.”

And so like that she counted the ways I might have screwed up

on her fingers.

I let out a small laugh

though my palms were starting to clam up and my knees felt weak.

Some years passed

I made other friends

Friends who gave me their phone numbers

But every time I would send them a text and waited for their response

My friend made me check my phone

3 times

Then 7

Then a few times more

All in the span of five minutes

And if there was still no response, we’d argue

“They’re probably busy,” I’d say

“They don’t want to talk to you,” she’d say.

“They must have not checked their phone.”

“Maybe you said something wrong.”

My friend started sticking around a lot more.

One time, when I was waiting to meet a colleague from work at a café,

she insisted that I had left the stove on at home,

even when I reassured her I hadn’t.

She said something about the house erupting in flames

if I didn’t go home right then.

I eventually had to leave

It was the fourth time I had cancelled the meeting.

I didn’t understand why nobody else could see my friend

I wondered if anyone else had a friend like that

Who kept them up at night so they could either rewind past conversations

in their head countless of times

or play out scenarios perfectly so they wouldn’t

have to face reality.

I wondered if they also had someone who

made them change their outfits 5 times before leaving the house

only to constantly remind them to check their bag in case

they had left the keys at home

even if they hadn’t.

Who pushed a hand inside their chest and

grabbed their heart in their fist and made it beat faster and faster

until they felt it would burst from the seams.

Who made them stay home with a tempting offer to be wrapped in a blanket.

and read a book

instead of to face the world

because they just want to make them feel safe.

To protect them.

“This world is too much for you,” they’d say.

“You’re not ready.”

My friend doesn’t want to leave

She has no luggage she can pack up and move out

She says she is the safest person I’ll ever know

And maybe she’s right.

 

-Sarah Jafrani.

bro

Wishing On Falling Stars.

screenshot_2016-10-27-15-10-01-1-1

 

I wished to swim in the yellow sea of daffodils I sowed,

But it turned to red when my heart explode.

I wished to break free from the demons of the past,

But somewhere my mind is locked up in the chest thou hast.

I wished to touch the moonbow spread out in the dark,

But my wings were too injured to leave their mark.

I wished to dance under the soggy rain,

But alas! Even that won’t wash away the pain.

I wished to count all the stars, the dull, the bright;

But there’s a war up here, some fell to the earth, some became knight.

I wished to remove the stains from my soul,

But turning into a diamond was a mere fantasy of a coal.

I wished to echo my screams that reached the whole crowd,

But for a deaf, a thunder is never too loud.

I wished to transform this life of blue,

But only if all the wishes could come true.

-Hira Altaf

Bio-Sciences, 3rd Year.

The Hidden View.

screenshot_2016-10-25-19-58-27-1

 

Everything is silent, all is still

No one around to view the thrill;

Small, tiny light

A shadow moves

The petals move, start to sing

Wind picks up, nature’s music starts

Starting at point base, feeling in the heart

Born to feel, always live the same

Never let the soul ever be tame;

Starting to move, step by step

Slowly at first, but fast at last;

Keeping in tune to the sound of the heart

Finishes, beautiful spin; tidy dancer starts off again;

A silent applause, for no one to hear

A feeling of gratitude from those who are near;

Still no one around, absolutely no sound

But a smile suddenly creeps while around everything sleeps.

The heart always goes what the heart always carries

Never give up the feeling that you hold.

-Warisha Akbar.

Trickle The Drops

hiraaaa

Trickle the drops, oh lady, release the bursting cloud,

Trickle the drops, my dear lady, bleed your eyes throughout.
Lady, cease the war of love,
This soldier needs to breathe,
You can trickle the drops, if you want, I hope that makes you free.

Stop trying to figure out the conspiracy of this cruel world,
Just know that this life is not a fairy tale as you thought it would be.

So trickle the drops, my lady, for the door of your kingdom is locked
And, he took the key.

-Hira Altaf.

Bio-Sciences Student, 5th Semester.