By Athar Mudasir
Ashyanaa banaya shedaat sa
Zamin ki doul tchant ka
Kankar Kankar sambal ka
Banaya Ashyanaa humara,
Abh chaand pa chalna ki tamana
Bass gayee hai humara dil maine,
Zamin sa kya khoob rishta banaya,
Zamin daman nahi chood rahe.
Hai door abhi manzilaan,
Taruu tak hai fasla apnaa.
Ya hasraat rahgayee
Jab makhanu maine bass gaya dil upna.
Ab raaha b tham gayee,
Ab toh loot chalunn
Apna Ashyanaa maine.
By Athar Mudasir
The night is better than thousand nights
The night is bestowed with mercy and tranquillity
The night is hope of forgiveness and mercy
The night is gathering of millions,
Holding their prays and uttering praises
In the utmost dark of land the kindle of light sprinkle over the valley and hearts of faithful.
Thousands of masses gather to summons their own pride and surrender.
The night was laid to besiege by the transgression of collaborators, filled with dark inside.
Crunching the breath with chains of hegemony and pride, slitting the rope of modesty and hope.
How long will the conceited python last.
Athar mudasir
The glimmering day turned to haste
When thy faithful fell at last.
Thee weight of evil raised over thee horizon
Sky enveloped thy modesty with gloomy veil,
Pouring drops of heaven to call men,
Hold on thy patience.
Thy screaming crowd with dead soul came on their knee to mourn thy presence.
How foolish and hasty has been mankind ever,
It's not thy who has mingled soul with soil.
It's the death of ideas which got slaughtered by the greed of men.
You just came and left with attend milestone.
It's not the lotus which emerged though mud but a disease.
Disease which has covered thy soul and heart.
By Athar Mudasir
Is this the land of saints,
The land of benevolence and resilience.
The epidemic has clustered in the veins of valley,
Spreading enormous and covering the three corners of life, virtue and society.
The triangle of evil has plunged the heart of sanity.
Every sacrifice seem to be wasted in vanity.
The last breaths of life seems pushing within the grip of evil.
Most have fortified their peculiar lives in collaboration.
It wasn't the occupation only but thy wretched desire and deceitful trade.
By Athar Mudasir
Roads of nowhere
Why the world seems fading
Shading into dark clock of enemity
Why the tunes of birds seems disturbing,
Once they where melodious and hopeful.
Happiness has become dump in pills,
Comfort has become problem itself,
Time is running more than ever
Relationship is limited to mere formalities
And, religion to rituals.
Love has vanished from the souls,
Though its kindle lights in the dark Chambers, vomit through gorges of hegemony.
Thee roads where built to reach destination,
But, the destination gets farther.
The rage of intruders is immense,
Crushing the valleys and tilth.
Gardens are built over grave yards
Filled with paper flowers and sprayed scents.
Sheeple have outraged their masters
And fallen pray before hounds.
Cash Crop Capitalism: The Cost of Capitalist Farming. Over the past few decades, fruit growers have increasingly fallen into the...
