Last Page from a Martyr’s Diary
From the Blog affanaali Originally posted on affanaali: She ran to the door as the bell rang A man in uniform, with an envelope in his hand He saluted her with the entire honor Handed her the envelope and sat in the corner She looked as if her wounds have healed Ran to the kitchen to get it pealed The letter was stained, with blood and sand Opening the letter with trembling hand Smell was clear of gun smoke As she read the words he wrote It was from her love in a far off land A shiver was visible in her hand He left a son and was freshly wed His love was called to join the deck I fought with bravery and fought with zeal I made my enemy to defeat and kneel My country asked for duties of its son I kept my courage until it was won This is what I signed up to… View original 13pakistanblogs.blogspot.comRead Full Post
The Loneliness Within
From the Blog iamzeeshanPeople, everywhere I look. People, talking, walking, sitting, standing. Distinct voices in my ears. Life, wherever I see. Then...why do I feel alone? Why do I feel as if I am the only one here. What sort of paradox is this? I go to a man singing by the road, holding his homemade stringed instrument. I watch him sing a song of happiness. I see him trying to smile between the verses. Once he is done I go closer to him and look at the box lying close to his feet. I see a few coins and a lot of paper pieces. I look at him, and ask "You sing songs of happiness. You sing as if you are trying to make everyone happy. And yet, your eyes, they...they tell a different story." He looks at me, smiles and says "Friend, that story of mine is only one of the many I know of. The other stories I pakistanblogs.blogspot.comRead Full Post
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