O my Beloved!
Take me,
Liberate my soul,
Fill me with your love,
and release me from both worlds.
If I set my heart
On anything but you,
O fire, burn me from inside!
Oh my Beloved
Take away what I want,
Take away what I do,
Take away everything
that takes me away from you.
A Garden Beyond Paradise, The Mystical Poetry of Rumi, translated by Jonathan Star and Shahram Shiva
By Hissam Salim Khan
I walk in silence
on the avenue of my memories,
deep inside the quiet lanes of my mind;
and what all, there, do I find?
Some innocent images,
Childhood moments come alive,
Happy, laughing school-days,
Classes buzzing like a beehive;
A big clock is ticking away,
So many thoughts rise, bump and collide,
Where many pinks and reds and so many colours sway;
Where we all shriek and run and hide,
Where rainbows arc in the sky, so blue,
And songbirds sing in fields of dew;
I grasp these precious moments—
My hidden treasures in life,
The places I escape to, avoiding
The harsh, worldly strife.
By Amna Ameer
They ask me where my home is?
I say it is somewhere here
And still far away
Home is just a trick
My mind plays and calls it nostalgia
They don’t know what’s it like
To want to see winter age
In your mother’s eyes
And hear the sound of your father
As you drift in deep sleep
Somehow I’m equipped for it all
But still can’t figure out
A life without my family
When the balancing act
Caves and I fall
I keep asking
Why is one love more worthy than it all?
Why can’t I sit in the winter sun
Basking my mother’s love
Why must I have to wait patiently
While I see others
Rejoicing, reminiscing, fulfilling
Their past lives
With missing pieces
And knitting them together
Like a holy tapestry
Of salvaged memories
But what made them so special?
As mine burnt in the background
Feels like my life and its uniqueness
Has all disappeared
Like white noise
Someone came and told me
It really didn’t matter
One day, one month a year
I’m not destined to be content
Because while the others reap the fruit
Of their lives aging
I must only learn patience
And imagine how it tastes
When you desire something
And you achieve it
You hold it on your hands
Smother your fingers with it
And lick the last piece
And no one can take away from you
A life lived fully
Only people like me
Can watch in envy and ruminate
Why was I denied this pleasure?
Why does my life always take the backstage?
Compiled by SK
