A Cure For Insomnia

Dark Matter

New Poem.

You find unexpected wakefulness
before dawn. You say to yourself

there must be some reason
to be awake, some insomniacs-only lesson

to be learned. You are correct.
Here it is:

there’s no point to being this awake.
No prophecy to be delivered. No importance

to be found in soured stomach
and aching neck. To assume so much value

for your problem, to assume you were meant
to go through this because it was necessary

to activate some gift or hidden power,
does not make you anything more

than typical. Everyone’s sure
they are paying dues on some 

postponed glory with every tribulation they face.
Truth be told,

when we are awake without reason this early
it’s probably safe to assume

that we are struggling with lying in the dark
strictly because we are lying

about there being a purpose 
to such struggles. We’re just not

that important. We aren’t 

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The wind blowing through my hair
The frost on the ground
The cold frigid airtumblr_lvh7hh0QG91qktfhro1_500
The chilled rushing sound

The love for caffeine
The fireplace heat
The foggy side window
The cold surface of my feet

The freezing hands
A blanket of feathers
Embraces the heat,
Blocks off the cold weather

The dark  silent nightswinter-night
The falling snow
Sadness all around
Peace everywhere

The slashing pain
Of these hopeless days
The tranquille streets
The fading lights

December is love.
December is peace.
December is to stay;
all way long.

Perhaps if this were a story…

He smiled at his good fortune. He did not know that for even a person as bitter as him, the taste of a little chocolate could feel so sweet. All his life he had hated little things. He would always notice them as an observant standing far away in a group of people whose existence didn’t concern him. At that moment, his only concern was her. She was scared. Why wouldn’t she be? He had been so awkward with her on their first meeting.

He liked her simplicity; her soft voice; her warm body.  He used to drool in the cosiness of her aura. Perhaps it was time to accept that he was in something us commoners refer to as ‘love’? His friends repeatedly asked him but he just couldn’t accept their logic. He gazed upon her picture. “How could someone be so beautiful?” he asked himself. He would spend hours walking with her. He would never tell her how beautiful she was for he believed that beauty should be silently admired.

He laughed at her jokes; never wondering what they meant. They used to spend Fridays having lunch together. When for a moment their hands crossed paths, the brief touch of her skin negated all the laws of physics as, “how could the collision of tiny particles of skin create so much static that everything in him went into a state of disorder?” All facts suggested that this was some sort of a mental illness. He did not believe that anyone alive could secrete this much Serotonin whenever she was near.

He had a nagging, itching feeling that she was the right one for him. It was rather funny really. He decided to propose her. The setup was as perfect as anything could be. A table illuminated with candle lights by the river with a flowery shade above it.  She wore a red dress which in contrast with her skin colour proved to be a pleasant spectacle for his eyes.

“I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you”, he said.

She first smiled then looked at him with eyes of sorrow. “You are in love with me but I’m afraid that we can’t be together”

“I don’t understand. We have had great moments together. How could you… how could you not love me?” he asked as if guards of hell personally came down to hand over an invitation.

“I love you as well” she admitted. “But reality negates our co-existence. Perhaps if this were a story…”

What’s your Wi-Fi password?

Sad but true.

Nida I Zamir

“Paraye qareeb ho gaye hain aur qareeb paraye ho gaye hain” (The far away ones have come closer and the closer ones have drifted apart).

These words struck me pretty hard when I heard my aunt talk in regard of technology one day.

Granted, Whatsapp, Skype, Facetime, Snapchat, and Facebook have brought our friends and family nearer to each other when we are sitting miles apart. An aunt in Kuwait whom I got to talk to once a year is now just seconds away from sending a picture of what she bought for evening tea.

We can talk to people all day long; you know when they are eating, what they are eating, where they are going, and what not. You believe that their time is dedicated to you wholly, and when you actually meet that person physically, you expect the same out of him/her.

What you don’t expect is…

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I was meant to fly but my once flapping feathers were sentenced to death.
Because I wanted to reach and achieve the eternities, I got myself caught in an old silver cage.
As you know people around can’t watch you at the climax and themselves still hanging between the first two stairs.
To all those, REMEMBER! I was timid. Yes I was weak, a coward perhaps. But I shall rise.
Once! At least once, when I’ll get a chance to escape.
And I will fly!