Hand in hand

From the moment we remembered our missing love, the flame ignited once again within our hearts. We knew that we had found what our restless souls had always been longing for. Two kindred spirits reunited in one reality, after so much separation. God is always merciful upon his creation and so was absolutely merciful when we, humble, obedient, lovers, decided to walk the path of faith, hand in hand.

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Watercolors

A watercolor painting was put into motion, colors bleeding into one another, mingling and meshing, the sunset engulfing the sky,

The hands of the painter of life ecstatically danced over the canvas, bringing beauty into the world with every stroke of the brush,

The sun soon said its farewells as it sunk below the distant horizon, allowing the watercolors to be consumed by a deep black ink, speckled with a glowing white,

The mind of the painter contemplated its next move, as night was now here; what would now immortalize itself on her canvas?

She closed her eyes, and allowed herself to be drawn into her mind’s eye where a vision of planets, stars, and galaxies abound captivated her,

The universe had now made its way onto that empty space that becomes art, if but only imagination takes flight,

She picked up her brush and began to extend the inky night further and further, revealing and unfolding worlds beyond her own.

 

Poem for Malala

Oh, Swat, My Sacred Swat,

My aching heart burns, and cannot go on,
Your lush green grass, my weary spirit yearns to lay upon, The soft song of your streams,
Reflecting all the innocence of my dreams,
The brown of my iris,
Is tired of the visions i reminisce,
They wish to be able, to once again see,
The paradise that once upon a time, surrounded me,
The river that flowed serenely, with Pashtun pride,
The mountains of the valley, proudly guarding on every side,

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Oh, Mingora, My Majestic Mingora,

Death came to our houses, and didn’t stay long,
Waking up in the mornings, to find our sisters gone,
Graffiti of darkest red, splattered on the ground,
Another mans dead, but his body can’t be found,
If for every drop of blood, a flower would have grown,
then even the Garden of Eden’s beauty, would have been dethroned, Sleeping at night, was an impossible task,
Bombs shattered dreams, like a fist through broken glass,
I had never been so afraid,
But destinies path, had already been laid,
Speak out and die,
Had been bestowed upon me, from Allah up high,
A Girl without education, is like a rose without thorns,
Our pens and books, were cutting into the devils horns,

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Oh, Malalai Of Maiwand, My Beloved Malalai Of Maiwand

They came to forever, silence me,
But Death, wasn’t ready, to set me free,
I saw Gods heavenly tears,
They washed away my deepest fears,
And you whispered in my ear,
As you held me tight and near,
“My Malala is living, and more beautiful, you cannot find,

though they have eyes, they are hopelessly blind”

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Oh Pakistan, My Dearest Pakistan,

My faith prays for you, five times a day,
And my love is with you, every step of the way, See to it that your light shines bright,
In the face of hatreds unmerciful might, Remember me to the children that live there, May they remain safe from the fires of despair,

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Oh Allah, My Merciful Allah

The suns gold, melted into sand, Gave birth, to the People of my land, Now tell them, Allah,
Tell them to live hand in hand,

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Oh Earth, My Eternal Earth

The tainted windows of my soul have but one longing, To gaze upon life’s final painting,
Of peace everlasting,

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A Fate Unyielding

It was a cold winter evening in December, the moonlight creating an ambience as it reflected off of the snow. The river seemed dormant and frozen, yet she knew that underneath, it was teeming with life. For some reason, that upset her. She walked alone, in silence, reflecting on the events that had preceded this melancholy night. She felt entranced by the night sky, with stars that seemed to whisper to her soul, with the moon that seemed to be speaking to her heart. Upon further reflection, she became happy and proud of the fact that she was indeed, walking, with no man by her side. Who needed a man, anyways?

She decided then and there to live her life on her own, a life of dignity and adventure, a life where she would be her own person. And so, it was with that same resolve that she pulled her backpack firmly against her, her only remaining possessions within it. She set out to catch the next train she could get on, not knowing, nor caring what its destination. She only knew that somewhere out there, her true calling awaited her. Putting her faith in God, she set off into the sunset, with only her shadow to keep her company. What the future held in store, she could not say, but she was certain that whatever it was, it would make her complete, forevermore.

Her journey took her to a place very different than what she was used to. The people seemed…more open. She hadn’t seen people with such a vigor for life. Where she was from, people seemed to be constantly caught in the doldrums. Her only desire was to break free, like a bird from its cage, to rise beyond the trappings of this dunya. During her travel to who knows where, she met a very peculiar man, someone who planted a seed of divine wisdom into her life. They sat under a tree, talking passionately about life, its beauty, its shortcomings, and this is when he opened his heart, sharing his secret knowledge with her. He revealed to her that he had witnessed a miracle that had completely rid him of his doubts in God. She was all ears, because she too hoped that God was indeed real. Her heart had felt it numerous times, the connection to something much greater than herself, but she didn’t know if it truly was God or if it was simply a biological process manifesting itself in her thoughts. What he told her next touched her on a level that she could not describe. “God is with those who are patient. Have patience my child, and you shall be set free. Patience is the key that unlocks life’s every door, solves life’s every mystery. If you really wish to take flight, then let patience become the wings that may carry you into the sky.”

He left her there, for he himself had to return to his travels, but the connection that they shared was one she always kept with her. It didn’t become apparent to her right away, but as she walked on her path, she soon realized that it was indeed only patience and her faith in God that would keep her together. She was broken in so many places, but that did not matter now. In fact, her wounds, her pain is what made her who she was. It was funny how she once viewed her brokenness as a weakness to the point of self-loathing. But now, she was ready to face whatever the universe was conspiring to throw at her, with no fear, no worry. Being a woman in this world has never been easy, and it is not about to get easier. But the dawn of a new age is coming, and women everywhere are realizing that they must stand up and fight for what is rightfully theirs; the right to laugh, the right to sing, the right to breath, the right to live.

With this newfound knowledge, she decided that she knew what is was that she wanted to do. She had to bring what she had learned along her journey to other women. But she refused to sit high in an ivory tower, surrounded by books and knowledge but no love. So she did the only thing she could think to do. She took to the streets, living without knowing where her next bite of food would come from, but she surely did not care, for she was doing the work of God. She was able to share her knowledge with those who otherwise would not have had access to it, and that is all she had ever really wanted- to serve her fellow humans, the children of God.

Nothing will be as it was

Nothing will be as it was,
Forgotten kingdoms crumbled to dust,
Love trampled underfoot,
And great purveyors of peace now corrupt.

To whom will the world turn?
As the masses watch it burn,
While their insides with fear churn.

Slithering ivy grows up the sides of an ancient temple.
The echoes of bells rung eons ago can still be heard,
But the wisdom once there shared, now long gone,
Lying dormant along the corridors of time.

False prophets have come and left,
Adorned the people with the jewelry of illusion,
And sowed seeds of doubt and confusion.

Collective consciousness must now take a stand,
And draw on the lessons received from generations past.
In this way, peace will find a way to like a flower bloom and last,
taking root in hearts and souls throughout the land.

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Illustration by Tehreem