Ghazal
By Iftikhar Nasim Ifti
Saza he de hai, duaoun main bhe asar de kar
zuban le gaya meri, mujhay nazar de kar
khud apnay dil se mita de hai khawahish-e-parwaaz
ura diya hai magar khud usko apnay par de kar
nikal paray hain sabhi ab panah-gahon se
gozar gae hai seeah shub, ghum-e-sahar de kar
usay main apni safai main kia bhala kehta
wo poochta tha jo mohlat bhe mukhtasar de kar
…
Ghazal
By Iftikhar Nasim Ifti
Kise k haq main sahi, faisla hoa tu hai
mera nahi, wo kise shaks ka hoa tu hai
Ye he bohat hai k us ne mujhay bhe mas tu kia
ye lams mujh main abhi tak racha hoa tu hai
Usay main khul k kabhi yaad kar tu sakta hon
mujhay khushi hai, wo mujh se juda hoa tu hai
Sakot-e-shub he sahi mera humsafar lekin
meray siwa bhe koe jaagta hoa tu hai
Ghutan k barhti chali ja rahi hai andar ki
tamaam khush hain k mousam khula hoa tu hai
Ye aur baat k main zinda reh gaya hon Naseem
har ek sitam meri jan par rawa hoa tu hai
…
Poem
By Iftikhar Nasim Ifti
There was no knock at the door
My cats were waiting in the foyer,
Listening to the steps passing by.
Children were knocking at door
of the apartment in front of mine.
“Trick or treat. Trick or treat”
My money jar full of quarters
looked so empty.
What happened? Who played
These dirty tricks on me?
Thirty one year as a law abiding citizen
I am still a foreigner. Foreigner
With a crude face and features of
a terrorist. My color two shade
Darker than an average white man
Is not accepted anymore.
My café ole color, once I was so proud of,
Is a guilt trip for me now.
My ethnicity has become a crime.
Mean streets of Chicago have become meaner.
“Go back to your country. Go back to your country.”
They yell at me.
And I am a citizen of USA
with no country.
Airports, train stations, shopping malls, schools,
Hospitals wherever I go, I am watched and scrutinized.
I yearn for the freedom I came here for.
Right now I am worst than a slave.
I am tired. I am tired. I feel like Rosa Park
and there is no bus for me.
Because I am not only two shade darker
than an average white man
But I am also a Muslim
…
Mere Baabaa
By Iftikhar Nasim Ifti
Mere Baabaa,
sab kahte haiN
merii shakl
aap se miltii-jultii hai
merii aaNkheN
merii peshaanii
mere hoNT
meraa lahjaa
baateN karne kaa andaaz
uThne-baiThne
chalne-phirne ka andaaz
mere haathoN kii harkat
sab kuch aap hii jaisaa hai
maiNe sunaa hai beTaa
baap kii nasl kaa vaaris hotaa hai
mere zehn meN ek savaal ubhartaa hai
maiN jo bilkul aap par huuN
to phir merii tarjiih-e-jins
aapse kyuuN is darja alag hai?
My Father
By Ifti Naseem
My father,
everyone says
my appearence
resemble yours.
My eyes
my forehead
my lips
my accent
the way I talk
sit around
the way I walk;
movement of my hands,
everything is like yours only.
I have heard that the son
is the heir of his father’s lineage.
A questions comes to my mind.
If I am exactly like you
then why my sexual preference
is so much different from yours?
Courtesy Syed Raza
Poems selected by:
Tabby Shahida
http://www.facebook.com/home.php#!/profile.php?id=530977471&sk=notes
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