My Life Won’t Be the Same

My Life Won’t Be the Same

by Rizwan Ahmed Memon

Please don’t go

After you my life

Won’t be the same.

When I think of

The nights without you,

They seem to be long

And the days empty.

Without you the walks,

The river, the trees

The ways they all

Would be desolate.

With you I live

Every moment

Of my life.

And if you go,

My life would come to an end;

The heart, the pulses

Would stop.

Please don’t go

After you the life

Won’t be the same.

(4) THE SELF-TALKER

Author: Rizwan Ahmed Memon

Rafique had just three friends in his community. The countryside where he lived was full of natural beauty. His three friends rarely met him, so he had made pen and paper his full-time companions. Apart from pen and paper, he had made himself his best friend.

On a summer evening, Rafique, as usual, was out on a walk. Describing the weather, he said to himself, “It is a hot day today. The wind has stopped, so the suffocation has increased. Oh, look at my shirt. It is wet because of sweat. My pants have also become wet. Oh, no my papers! They must be damp, too. Now how will I write today? By the way, what am I going to write today–a poem, an essay, or a story? Well, let’s see.”

Walking and talking to himself, he reached his accustomed place which was a Neem tree. “Hello, buddy. How is it going? You are growing and growing to make your shadow even denser. Thanks for providing the shadow, brother.” he said to the tree. Rafique sat under the tree and looked around. “Water in the pond is increasing because of the flow in the river, isn’t it?” he asked the tree. “Oh, I see. With more water in the pond, you are becoming stronger! Why didn’t you tell me that before?” he kept talking to the tree, but the tree was silent.

He took out the blank papers from his pocket which were a little damp. He kept them open in the sunshine so that they would dry. “You must be wondering what I will write today,” he said to the tree. “Well, friend, I don’t know either!” Saying this he laughed loudly.

“The words

On the paper

Are not mere

Words.

In them is a history,

A story of love,

And a chapter of sadness.

The words on the paper

Are not just words.”

He wrote these words on the paper. “Yes, I think I am writing a poem,” he said to the tree. When he finished writing the poem, he told to the tree, “It is time to move now. You can read this poem on my blog tomorrow.” “You know the address of the blog, right?” he asked the tree. The tree said nothing. Closing his papers he said to the tree, “See you soon, friend.”

Rafique then went to the River Indus, which was at a little distance from the tree. He often sat on the bank of the river and wrote stories and poems. Walking on the levee, he kept talking to himself. After the river, he came to the village fields where he sat for some time, and then he went home. At night, he posted the poem on his blog. By writing and talking to himself, Rafique spent his life happily. Rafique found happiness in nature and writing. In the past, people had broken his heart, so he stayed away from people and made a world of his own.

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Respond to the Story:

Do you think loneliness is better than a bad company?

Have you ever written any poems or stories? If so, share it with your classmates and teacher.

Precious Peace Like Pearls

Precious peace like pearls
by Rizwan Ahmed Memon

I have a peaceful world;

Because I have simplicity and silence.

I have a peaceful world;

Because I have fewer friends.

I depend on no one but myself;

This way I save myself from hurt.

I have a peaceful world;

Because I have fewer wishes, hopes and plans.

Loneliness keeps me away

From the turmoil of other people.

I have a peaceful world;

Because I have peaceful friends, like nature herself.

Countryside colors fill my life;

I am away from the noise of the city.

I have a peaceful world;

Because birds sing songs here.

The quiet of the night provides nice slumber;

In the day, I write poetry under the shadows of the trees.

I have a peaceful world;

Because I have fewer possessions.

I hope my grave and never-ending world

Will be peaceful, too.

I make something for the Hereafter;

Because this peaceful world is temporary.

My Roots

My Roots

Author Rizwan Ahmed Memon

We have a great attachment to the place where we are born, the places where we played games in our childhood, and the streets on which we walk every day. These places are our roots and anywhere in the world we go, we miss them.

I remember the streets on which I played in my childhood. They were not made of cement or tiles. They didn't look like floors or roads. They were simply of dust. The earth was smooth and soft. The dust lifted and blew only when a big vehicle crossed. In the summer, when I played on those streets, they felt cold and comforting. They used to be damp because the shadows of the trees and walls of the houses, which were made of mud bricks. They hardly allowed the sunshine through. Whether our streets and houses are made of cement, tiles, or of other materials, we love them because we have a history with them.

However, among us there are some people who do not feel a relationship with their roots. They always complain about everything around them, and they seem to be fed up with their surroundings. They try to move to a big city and live away from their countryside. On the contrary, the people who love their roots think of them as deceivers who only take from their roots and don’t give anything to their roots.

If you ask me, I have a great attachment to my roots. I feel happy to be where I was born. I like to sit on the ground where I played games in my childhood. In 2010, when I went to university, I had to leave my countryside. I studied in a university which was three times larger than my countryside. Everything was available there: wide playing fields, libraries, gyms and the Internet cafe. In spite of all those things, I missed my village. In the lights of the big city, I missed the quietness of the night of my countryside. Whenever I got to go home on holiday, I felt great happiness. In university, holidays for me meant a chance to go to my rural area. My small town was at a great distance. Many of my classmates spent their holidays at the university, but I always went to my village on the holidays. It took a whole night if I traveled at night, and a whole day if I traveled in day. The big city’s wind could never win my heart. The gym or the wide playing fields of the university never gave me that joy which I got on the little streets in my hamlet. The bank of the river of my region, where I had spent hours, always came in my dreams. When I was at the hostel, the trees, the fields and the streets always remained in my memories.

After completing my education, I came back to my roots to give to them all those skills I gained at university. The people of my community didn't like my pants and shirt, and my clean-shaven face, but I liked them. Because I knew I had to teach them it was no sin to wear pants and a shirt, and it was no sin to learn the English language, and that they could grow beards if they like. I am proud of my roots, my simple countryside farmers, and the laborers.

Written Words

Written Words

by Rizwan Ahmed Memon

The words 
On the paper

Are not mere

Words.

In them is a history,

A story of love,

And a chapter of sadness.

The words on the paper

Are not just words.

Voices of silent people

You will hear

When you read

The words on the paper.

You will know

The oppressor

And the innocent

The words on the paper

Are not mere words.

The Waves of the ocean--

 And the sand of the desert

You will feel

If you read,

The words on the paper.

 Lies and realities

Will surprise you

If you go through

The words on the paper.

The words
On the paper

Are not mere

Words.

In them is a history,

A story of love,

And a chapter of sadness.

The words on the paper

Are not just words.

You are Safe

You are Safe

by Rizwan Ahmed Memon

You are safe

In my arms.

Neither any sorrow,

Nor any agony

Can touch you.

You are safe

In my arms.

The changing days

Of your life

Can bring storms

Rains, and winds,

But you need

Not worry because

You are safe

In my arms.

Heat of summer

Cold of winter

Cannot affect you

You are safe

In my arms.

No matter how

High the waves

Of the ocean

May be.

They can never

Reach you because

You are safe

In my arms.

I will surpass

Any mountain

Any agony

To keep you safe

In my arms.

Because I am

Your partner.

Stay safe forever

In my arms.