Tag Archives: Short story

Black Widow in Red


She had big dough eyes and a thin nose. She smiled mockingly at me and loved red. I liked it when she wore her red silk dress and whirled around like a ballerina. She always had her hair tied up but they perfectly fell on her face.

Her eyes gleamed as she used to say, “I would go away”. I did not believe her who would if you ask me? The way she worshipped me in between silk sheets and sleek poetry that reflected my existence as her God. She was divine with her words when she told me that she liked to kiss me after I had smoked or how she loved to claw her nails in my arm each night as we made love.

I had bruises every night. I smiled at them every damn morning!

I looked at her sprawled up on the bed like a delicate doll that might break with the slightest touch but then she looked me in the eyes, many times and said, “I will only build you up just enough to break you down. ” I did not believe her when she said that and her stare turned cold for she always leaned in and kiss me after that. She touched me tenderly and wrapped her legs around my waist not wanting to let go. If I go down she might crumble as well, I used to think to myself.

“Love is a gamble and I never play fair. I give off the illusion of putting my heart in the gamble but in reality it is just a rotten box, instead.” She used to say this whenever I claimed to love her. I told her that I want to carve a hole in the box and stay there but she told me during lonely nights that the box is rotten with termites so there is no use of staying in abandonment. Love for me was war with the world to keep her by my side even, if the Gods were against me I swear I would have fought till my last breath.

She smiled in her silk red dress and wooed me every time. She told me all these secrets about her but asked me to never claim her as mine.

Till, one day, I returned home and she was not there. The bed was neatly done and not messed up with her in between. The air didn’t smell of her perfume and I noticed the red dress was gone as well. I found no notes or goodbyes, just emptiness in the air. I waited for her, maybe she would come back? I realized that she was gone like all the things she says she eventually leaves when she sucks the life out of them. I spent the night drinking and smoking.

I did not shed a tear like betrayed lovers do, for she always told me that she would leave but it was I who never believed. I kept looking down the lane at every car that passed me by hoping that maybe, she changed her mind.

As each hour passed my hope died as well, the lady in the red dress had done her job well. She took out my heart and replaced it with a box and at 5 am there were no bruises on my back or hickeys on my neck but a feeling of termites making way inside my heart shaped box. Nobody recited Hemingway for me and I watched the sun come up,

I went to work like all men do, but deeply knowing,

“I fell victim to a black widow dressed in red and nothing else.”

Keep your class clean


The inside of the room was reduced to rubble and thick dust covered whatever remained. Bleak sun rays entered the room and illuminated it how a thousand cannonballs of colors collide and disperse producing nothing but white in the end. The light reflected on one of the desks remaining covered with heavy dust. She could still read words written in white thick marker, “Heart shaped box”. At once, a face came to her mind and she caught herself smiling. Even standing in between the ruins of a place she once cherished, there she was, standing and smiling at the words. Of course, Selena had written them. She loved Kurt Cobain. She remembered how Afghani down the end of the market sold old cassettes of American and European bands at high price because it was forbidden and you had to be careful in purchasing them. Her walk down the memory lane was small lived and soon she found herself sneezing because the dust was getting to her. She pulled her scarf ends over her face and only her eyes could be seen as she examined the room. It was as if she wanted to soak it all in, the before and after of it all and never let it out of her memory. She wanted it deeply engraved on the density of her cerebrum.

The room smelled of gun powder and smoke with a tint of pine smell from the forest nearby. It’s a miracle how nature has the tendency to mix with even the catastrophically ruined things in life and make them appear beautiful or still give them a small piece of beauty so that they too can glimmer like nature does in all its glory. The walls that were once covered with bright posters that she and her friends made, were now torn and some on the ground. A piece of the wall from the left side of the room was completely on the ground and the bricks scattered along the way giving room for animals to enter-mainly mice-to come and make home. She heard the birds, she heard the rattle sound from down the street but it was unfamiliar. The sounds she used to hear so often during the old times, the sounds that were familiar back then now carried unfamiliarity in them and she could sense it. Some sounds were missing like laughter, talking and mainly joy.

She walked over the broken wooden chairs and distorted desks. The blackboard still had 12/01/2015 written on it. Present 25. Absent 2. She saw chalks on the floor spilled out like a psychedelic pattern and the teachers chair intact. She saw a piece of poster on the floor and picked it up. Sweeping off the dirt it read, “Ye apki class hai, isay saaf rakhna apka kaam hai kyun k safai nisf iman hai” (This is your class and keeping it clean is your responsibility because cleanliness is half of faith).

She read the lines a few times and then looked over her surrounding-ruined. How was she to explain to God if he asked? That religious extremist won’t get that they just took half of her iman (faith) from her in the process of destroying her school.

Born into a society


I am born into a society
Where death is a blessing and life a curse
Where humans are statistics and numbers
60 killed and 25 injured

I am born into a society
Where the rich get richer
The poor die hungry
Where food is enough and plenty
But thrown out into the streets

I am born into a society
Where empty smiles hide unhappiness
Money and sex are answer to all
Where people chug in alcohol to forget
Depression is common and pills are frequent

I am born into a society
That consumes more than it can take
Greedy eyes and full stomachs
Where massive consumption is okay
Power is the only outlet and defeat not an option

I am born into a society
Where the law of money prevails
Thrown into never ending wars
Not of our making
We fight for any glorious name

I am born into a society
Where hospitals treat the privilege
The lesser ones die on the pavements
Where old men control young lives
Grin and laugh while the labor class dies

I am born into a society
Where being a girl is a shame
You need a man to walk with you
To protect you and feed you
Or else get chewed up by the wolves and later thrown away

I am born into a society
Where nobody knows what happiness is
The jails are full and the asylums plenty
Everyone pretends to be the best
And yet crumble in powerful hands

I am born into a society
Where freedom is a state of mind
It remains not an expression but a word
You get shot in the head
Or locked up
If you say what is on your mind

I am born into a society
That glorifies wrong
That is divided into classes
The lower ones get nothing at all

I am born into a society
Where boundaries are plenty
Harmony nowhere to be found
Where color, creed and race define you
Not the deeds that you have done

I am born into a society
Where we are a part of somebody else’s story
Too afraid to write our own

I am a product of this society
Too tangled in chains and ropes
Of religion, nation and imposed ideals.

I am a product of this society
Who claims to be happier, healthy and perfect
Unaware what lies deep in my soul

I am a war child.



In the morning, it is dark. The nights are even darker. The only lights are gunshots and rocket fires. Smoke filled lanes. Abandoned houses and streets. We are crammed in little rooms. Crammed in underground bunkers. I have seen more death than life. I am just a child. I think my heart dies a little inside, every time, I hear that someone I love is no longer alive. I am a war child. Living in square rooms. Living in square lives. This is what my life reduced to. This is of what remains, of what I thought would be a wonderful life turned out to be death and fight. The weekdays pass and the weekends go. I hear screams, shouts, and nothing more. I am a war child. Trapped in a square life. I have no escape. I cannot go back in time. I cannot rewind my life. What I have seen in my life cannot be unseen. The sounds of drones cannot be unheard.
Knock! Knock! They come on our doors. When we refuse to open it, they bash it and break it through. With big guns and badges on suits, dressed up in grey helmets and brown boots. They kick us around like animals. Parade around the room. Call us names. Curses and abuse. Grab my sisters by the hair. Take them to another room. All I hear are screams and shouts. All I see is deadly grins when they come out. My mother keeps weeping. My father went numb. Trapped in a square life. Trapped with no way out. My brother went to war. He said he would fight for the homeland. I heard the news on Sunday. I realized the last good hug we had was months ago. He was hit in the chest twice in two rounds. I realized I would not feel the warmth of his body against mine, anymore. My friends are all gone. I have no idea where they went. I miss playing with them. The grown up games are no fun to play. I tasted fear. I clenched onto hope. However, a pain throbs in my heart when I think of going outside and seeing the playground in such a mess. I tasted blood in my mouth, again. We are out of food. The electricity is gone. The sounds of sirens and cannons are all around. I am a war child. I am as I am. Nothing to see here. Nothing to read here. Just another story of a war child. Just another tale of large-scale massacre.


It was early morning and I was getting ready for school You made me toast and jam; my favorite because you knew I saw you had purple marks on your right eye and cheeks A black one on your arms and blue on your knees You told me last night you fell off the stairs And that daddy was asleep upstairs I believed you fell and those screams were not real I went to school and thought all day How does one fall and get hurt that way? I came back and we talked about school I did my homework and went to bed at noon I heard screams again at night   Saw daddy pull your hair and smash you on the wall to the right I saw it all and ran as fast as I could He was cursing and abusing as I struggled with him to leave you He smacked me too, I felt weak and dizzy to get up and fight I woke up in my bed and saw you more bruised than last night You tended my bruises  and made me feel all right I didn’t go to school the next day and that night you slept by my side You kissed my forehead and made me promise that I will be a good boy I feared daddy might come again with his belt and repeat it all again So I hugged you with all my might  I woke up in the morning relieved that you were still by my side The only difference was I saw blood stained sheets  And your corpse by my side.

It was early morning and I was getting ready for school
You made me toast and jam; my favorite because you knew
I saw you had purple marks on your right eye and cheeks
A black one on your arms and blue on your knees
You told me last night you fell off the stairs
And that daddy was asleep upstairs
I believed you fell and those screams were not real
I went to school and thought all day
How does one fall and get hurt that way?
I came back and we talked about school
I did my homework and went to bed at noon
I heard screams again at night
Saw daddy pull your hair and smash you on the wall to the right
I saw it all and ran as fast as I could
He was cursing and abusing as I struggled with him to leave you
He smacked me too, I felt weak and dizzy to get up and fight
I woke up in my bed and saw you more bruised than last night
You tended my bruises and made me feel all right
I didn’t go to school the next day and that night you slept by my side
You kissed my forehead and made me promise that I will be a good boy
I feared daddy might come again with his belt and repeat it all again
So I hugged you with all my might
I woke up in the morning relieved that you were still by my side
The only difference was I saw blood stained sheets
And your corpse by my side.

Dead Love


deadlove1How is it possible to love and hate somebody at the same time? The two emotions mixing and mingling and lay one confuse to decide what she actually felt? Be addicted and repulsed by someone at the same time? I think I’m going rather insane here but I’ve always been like this so confused and torn up in a mental dispute. I dreamt of this time often in those naïve summer nights when the only known from of intimacy to me was a kiss. HA-HA makes me chuckle every time and yet I lay here on top of this man inhaling his breath and feeling him skin to skin and hearing his heart loudly pounding. I don’t know whether to cry or laugh at this state in which life has placed me now? This man was my friend and my enemy at the same time. As I lay on top of him exhausted from our spinster bliss, I grinned at him with that of a lover and an enemy. “Satisfied much or hungry for more?” I asked with my eyes closed. I never did reach my peak with him of all the times of our intimacy. I faked it much like how I faked my every emotion and every move when I was with him. But today oh today I experienced the pleasure of being a woman. I curled up against him and thought to myself as why do I keep meeting the man when I hate him so much? Why do I confine myself to him in this chamber and get goose bumps just by staring in those blue eyes. Am I deceiving myself to be in love or am I just deriving lust from his bod? How can emotions of mine so ugly to me have such a beautiful outcome? My world was bright and clear yet it blurred around the edges and that’s where HE was! Between the lines of the real and the blur and I still had to put him in order…

I never realized when I doze off but my cellphone rang and with a fast beat I got up and looked at it “aaaah! Fuck I’m late” as I looked at the clock and it was already 6 in the evening. I got dressed and gathered my belongings and woke him up to inform that I was leaving, I was in a hurry but we still managed to exchange several kisses and an empty “I love you” and soon I was out on the empty road. I was walking or rather pacing down the street as when I reached the corner I looked back and saw the old house standing there all alone. “I must do something, this can’t carry on much longer “ this was the only mumble in my mind as I got to my apartment and made my way in. it was all in a mess and when I tried to turn the lights on an involuntary “fuck no electricity!!” came out of my mouth…and so to kill the heat off I went straight in the shower and stood under the cold water pouring down and cleaning out his smell. But that bastard had a very committed scent and even when I was done I could feel him around me…wrapping me up in his sole existence.

A harry does the trick of putting you to sleep when you can’t as I lay there sweating on the bed with no electricity and mosquitoes sucking the blood out of me and so I thought….. and had a long and hard thought about how I shall make him mine now and forever…it was just a matter of hours now and he would be mine forever…my hatred grew when I was away and yet my love peaked when I was with him. Ohh consequential heart I thought to myself and with the thoughts of how I shall make him mine I dozed off…the next day when I woke up and got done with my worldly duties I made my way to my lovers place…and there he was as always waiting for me with those blue eyes as deep as the wavering ocean ,poetic much? But one does become that way when love takes over. And there it was the moments of my guilty pleasure awaiting me as I kneeled down and looked at him straight in the eye!

Our eyes met and I stared at them for long he knew what was going on in my mind and I could hear his pacing heartbeat, the silence consumed us and I made love to him a hundred times just by looking in those eyes…now was the final step towards making him mine and I knew I couldn’t screw this up, I loved him and hated him. He knew he did me wrong so many times but I let it go every time but this time there was no forgiveness…my lover had to die and I had to make sure that he did. Reminds me of Bukowski at the moment “find something you love and let it kill you” but this time it was the opposite I found something I loved and I was going to kill it…the sudden rush filled me with joy and pain at the same time as I looked him in the eyes the last time, laid a kiss on those lips and felt the wetness of it with tears pouring down his face I pressed the trigger and let my lover bleed while the tobacco burned and churned in the final lethal flame.

Running Away (Chapter 5)



“So what did you decide Durre?” that was the first thing he asked as he gave me a peck on my forehead like he always did when he came.

“I’m going to come.” I said and saw how bright his face lit up, he smiled at me and his eyes sparkled.

“I’m so happy! I can’t express what I feel right now, you and the baby! I promise I’ll work as hard as I can to provide for you. Don’t worry and I’ll make sure……” I interrupted him there

“How do you plan on taking me from here Fakhir?” and his face that glowed like a star dimmed again.

“I’ll talk to Jahaan Arra when I leave.”

And the time we spent together that day was anticipated to be the beginning of my new life.

The next day when Fakhir came, I knew he had talked to Jahaan arra the previous night. He had a look on his face that was hard to read, it is said that the face communicates half of the things but what I saw in Fakhir’s face was not hope or joy but a look of dismay and worry.

“What did Jahaan Arra say? Did you talk to her? Are we leaving this place?” I exploded with questions as he stayed quiet and sat right next to me, his eyes showed no joy no happiness but a sadness that reflected a fresh wound placed on his heart.

“Durre I did talk to her, she said I can come meet you but it’s against the rules to sell new girls off and she’s demanding millions for you. I don’t have that sort of money Durre, my father will never pay me to buy you from here.” and with that it all went numb for me, my heart that had started to learn how to live again died. Like someone suffocating you, killing you with a dagger slowly and with every hit the wound gets deeper and more lethal till the blood runs out and the pulse dies out.

I sat in the corner and started to cry, Fakhir kept consoling me, hugged me all through the night but I was right, no hope for my soul was better than any hope at all. At least that way I knew I wasn’t going to be broken and built up only to be broken again. It is funny how we don’t know how far we can tolerate unless we test ourselves but still we try surviving and fighting regardless of the results. Never in my wildest imagination had I ever thought about being here but I was, never had I thought I would be placed in a situation as such but I was, my life had burnt like a cigarette and the ash was now crumbling, gently decaying to the end. The ember, fading away as I dropped my life onto the dirt. Hearing the sizzling of heat in the end. I was more numb than disappointed because hope abandoned me. That light at the end of the tunnel was out now and I was to stray and die in this darkness. Fakhir left the morning and I lay in bed all day long thinking about the life I had in me, this child was mine and I would be the sole person to bring it in this world to be responsible for whatever this child faces. No father and mother a prostitute- born with the worst luck possible.

I could now feel Akram dragging me through then van by my hair but the pain of this dead child was far worse than that, my life and my sole reason to be alive was dead. He kicked me more and so did a couple of other men, spat on me, kicked my face and my jaw cracked but all I could grieve about right now was my child.

I remember the day when it all happened, followed like a storm and my last memories played a bitter cruel symphony. After some days, I remember Fakhir coming to me and the first thing he said was “let’s run away Durre. Let’s just get out of here.” I was now determined not to give this child the environment the kids here faced, the status that harami children were given by the society yet it was this society who made them in the first place. Men who buy love and pleasure and then disposed the outcomes of it like tissue paper. Humans who prayed and feared God in the eyes of others but denounced him in the core of their hearts. Sinners, all of them, pretending to be saints in the eyes of others. Betraying people and themselves. The world works in different ways and bends accordingly to people and there are no rigid rules for it. Akram, Fakhir, Jahaan araa and me all part of the puzzle pieces fitting into a picture that presented not so jolly view but a scene that reflected misery, sorrow, and despair.

Days passed and my belly started to swell, I started to grow fond of the little life inside me. I started to feel the baby kick me and that spread a life in me that made me want to survive this all. I didn’t take clients after my first trimester and Fakhir used to come only now and bring me all kinds of things, he really took care of me. We even decided names of the baby. If it were a girl, we were going to name her Fatima and if it were a boy, we were going to name him Shahraiz. The only light in my dark life was the holes made by this tiny individual in me and for once I felt what my mother would’ve felt with me. It made me think how my running away from home had hurt her. I imagined and cried as much as I could. I wanted to talk to her, to say that I’m sorry for hurting her. I know I wasn’t a good daughter ever but now about to be a mother myself I felt what my mother felt like. Moreover, that day when Fakhir came early andI told him what I was feeling “do you have a phone?” I asked

To which he cheekily replied “want to talk to my other girlfriends eh? And yes I do!”

“No! I need to talk back home, just to hear my Ama’s voice. Please let me call her?”

It had been ages since I said the word Ama out loud and openly confessed to Fakhir that there hasn’t been a day in my life that I missed the warm embrace of my mother, her smell, the touch she had and the songs she hummed while I rested my head on her lap-I began to cry.

“Do you have a contact number Durre? Let’s call her.”

We didn’t really have a phone back home in the village but there was this shop where every relative of the people who lived in the called and I had it memorized. I remembered it and immediately Fakhir called home. My pulse raced and I was anxious, a man picked up and Fakhir explained that he’d like to talk to Malik Munir’s wife and then handed me the phone, after a while I heard a woman’s voice “asalamualikum! Who is it?” I wanted to speak but I couldn’t, it was ama-my ama. Her face began to come in my mind and tears filled my eyes. “Ama it’s me, Ama your Durr e Shahwar.” I said in a shaky voice. I heard Ama’s voice in tremble and then I heard crying “Meri Bachi! Are you okay? Where are you? Where did you go? Come back! We forgive you but please come back.” Ama went on and on and I stayed quiet, I wish I could tell her where I was now and what I was facing but it was way late and I had already disappointed and broken her heart once, if I told her my condition now I knew my mother would die of sorrow. “I’m okay ama, I’m happy! Don’t worry” that’s all what I managed to say when I broke up crying and I heard ama “don’t lie! Where are you come back? Don’t lie to your mother, I gave you birth I know you.” And I disconnected the phone; I could not talk to her anymore. I got to know that no matter what your parents forgive you because you are a part of them and nobody can stay mad at their own child forever. I felt happy in a sad kind of way after talking to her.

“Durre please don’t cry. I’m here and one day I shall take you with me.” Said Fakhir

“WHEN!?! I know I cannot get out of here so stop with the lies, there is no hope for me ever getting out of here. I’m an insect here just like all of these girls here and one day eventually you’ll get tired of me and leave like everyone does. In the end I will have nobody but myself and that’s the truth that I have come to face. Stop with the fake lies and building hope.” I screamed at him

“How about we run away from here? Escape?” said Fakhir but his tone of voice was calm

“How Fakhir? That’s not possible! How will “we” escape and you take me away from here?”

“I have been thinking about it, and made a plan. I smuggle you out of the Kotha during the working hours and when we get away from this place we’ll go to the mountain area for a while because I know Jahaan Arra will look for you.”

I was determined to take this baby away from this place or if I do give it birth here I planned on killing it to meet a future so devastating and I was to take any risk possible to save my child.

“What do you have in mind?” I asked

“Well only if you’re willing, I can take you out of here. During the mujra’s all the kotha is busy so in that time I get you out of here through the back side, we’ll cross the grass fields and the gate and go straight to the road that links to the railway tracks. I’ll park my car on the side and we can leave. I hope you can move that fast, but I have it figured out with precision.”

“When do we leave?” I had made up my mind that this was a plan worth trying

“On Thursday, two days from now. I need to make certain arrangements.”

And with that I was on a new journey that was only to be made by me and my child.

There was a knock on the door but Jahaan Arra knew when Fakhir’s in my room I don’t take any clients but then the door opened and I saw his face, the man responsible for bringing me here was in the room. Akram! That bastard with the same aura was there, that sinister grin and the same style of a cigarette in hand.  Where did WE go Akram? Why did you leave me this way to suffer? I called out for you, why didn’t you? You do know we traveled a long way before you left me. I used to find meaning in those unspoken words of yours and now even in this silence I don’t understand a thing. WE had a world planned together Akram. In those silent nights we had a world planned out. Why did you do this to me Akram? Where did WE go Akram?” as I asked these questions an infinite time in my mind when I saw his face. My face reflected terror, love, confusion and so many emotions at the same time. I glanced at Fakhir sitting next to me and then at Akram by the door, my head started to spin and it all faded out…

Running Away (Chapter 3)



With every touch of his I died infinite deaths. It lasted 20 minutes but those 20 minutes had wounded my heart and soul so badly that I knew that these scars will forever get deeper and lethal but never cease to bleed. I was Akram’s and the concept of one love was engraved in my mind like a carving on a stone that being touched by another man; being the object of his pleasure seemed not wrong but all together hateful. Being a woman I knew I was weak, what’s the point in fighting all these people now when my sole weapon, my knight had abandoned me. He left me at the pity of these vultures and all those promises of “dying together”; “living together” meant nothing but shallow words. The man who is dressing in front of me will be replaced by another soon or maybe tomorrow night. They will come and go and I shall be the object of their pleasure. I was completely dead of feelings, like a vessel that possessed not emotions but only a beat.

“Don’t you have a wife?” I asked the man as he was now wearing his shoes “I do, I have 3 kids too.”

“Why would you come here if you have a wife?”

He laughed a mocking laugh! “Because I’m a man pyaari, and a man’s appetite can never be satisfied.”

“Do you not feel like this is lying? Cheating her love?”

“Pyaari, what she doesn’t know is neither a lie nor cheating, and as for coming here, well! I can pleasure myself on any woman I like with no strings attached. Money will get you pleasure, that’s what I have learnt and pleasure is a woman’s body, why stick to the same old hag when I can have kaali’s (flower buds) like you.”

“But this is a sin, don’t you fear Allah?” I said, almost about to shed tears.

“Pyaari, sin is not what Allah decides it to be in this world, it’s what people decide it to be and most importantly what powerful men decide it to be.”

And with that he grabbed his wallet from the dresser and left. I realized that it’s a man’s world after all; denouncing all the chains that prevented me from progressing when I was home now I finally came to face the reality that it is men who decide a woman’s fate, men who can build them up and break them down. I burst into tears on the bed and after a while staggered to the bathroom in the right corner of the room. I could hear the rickshaws from outside, women flirting with men that passed by, children crying, loud Bollywood music playing from dance performances being held in this kotha, customers negotiating for 20 minutes of pleasure. I looked at myself in the mirror. My hair a mess and my kajal now parched under the eyes and cheeks. The woman I saw in the mirror wasn’t me! Couldn’t be! The woman I saw before me was an insult to the 16 year old Dur-e -shahwar…playing in the fields with her sister, helping ama jaan in the kitchen, those under the tree gossips with friends, those little half-witted jokes with siblings. That was the Dur-e-shahwar I was not the one I saw before me who was betrayed by her lover, deceived in the name of love and happily ever after and now just an object of contentment for white collar men working 9 to 5 jobs, presenting a noble and upright image in the society and being morally virtuous when in reality they were men who cheated, lied, faked their every move and every word just so they can earn and spend it on earthly pleasure. Fearing God in front of people and denouncing him in heart.

The blood trickling down my legs was his lone possession in me and now it was deceased, and soon I shall depart too from here. I heard Jahaan ara talking to Akram “better let her bleed it out and die, we’ll soon bury her. No use of women who betray the trade in my kotha.” It’s painful when the life inside you is dying and soon you know your time is near. To escape from this hell I took two lives with me but proved worthless. “AAAAAAAGH!!” I let out a painful cry as I knew that my unborn was now dead, my only hope died and drained running out through me..

Woman was created from a Man’s rib, to be protected and sheltered but then I wondered what caused men to trade her, to use her, to manipulate her like that? To deceive her, cheat her. He told me he loved me then why the suffering? I spent my days locked in the room. Girls in the house used to come and call me; tried talking to me but the dead don’t talk now do they? They don’t communicate that’s why they are called dead and so was I. At night men came and went, from businessmen to bureaucrats to lawyers and blue collar men. I became the substance of their bliss. I became what I was today by a man, they made love, talked and even complimented me but I know that during the daylight hours if I encountered anyone of my 20 minute lover they will refuse to recognize me. If society is what made girls like us then why shun us down? Why is it a taboo and refuse to acknowledge it when it was them who made us in the first place? But these are the questions that can never be answered nor will they ever be….

“Whores like you deserve to die! Running away with that lover boy of yours now eh? Remember those who join the trade never escape until death. What was his name again? Speak! Speak you dirty hoe” as Akram kicked my face and I could feel blood trickling down my nose. “Fakhir” as I managed to utter breathlessly. Akram grabbed my face and spitted on it. “No man can help you escape; my lads and I took care of your majnu!” And then memories of Fakhir came storming like waves against rocks in my mind…

To be continued….




As the dark approached I looked at the hills, the sun setting and giving a Cimmerian shade to the sky as the anxiety crept into my veins and flowed through my blood . My stomach began to churn and it felt as if someone knotted my gut, getting harder for me to breathe every minute passing. WAITING! That’s the most horrible thing that could happen to human beings…we wait to grow up, wait to get a job, wait to find the perfect companion, wait to get old and we wait to DIE! Waiting can be a painful task since you never known when it might end. I was always an impatient child though, waiting was a word not in my dictionary and to be honest I think I fully deserve this now don’t I? the sky was now dark and only a half moon peeked behind the clouds and illuminated everything in the room, in a distance the wind had begun its dance to delight the trees and I sat by the door now; waiting…I thought I heard footsteps in the grass and ran to look out the window but to my dismay nobody was there…again I had to wait for him to come. I waited 22 years to have him. The day I heard he died was like a knife in my own hurt but then again magicians have it one way or another don’t they?  And now I’m near the window looking out the door waiting for him to come, for him to tear the door apart with his dead and burnt skin, his empty eyes bleeding nothing but pain and sorrow his arms dangling and like a dead corpse I know he’ll come I can feel it.

A love gone Lost



The lights flickered and the electricity went out damn WAPDA! Playing hide and seek in the summers again. He takes out his lighter and begins hastily to search for the bottle of whiskey he had brought earlier, with sweat already beginning to form on his forehead he locates it on the corner of the table right beside the cigarettes, a quick grab of things and he makes his way upstairs to the roof. The cold moist air envelopes his body like a sweet embrace as he lay down on the charpoy and begins to look at the clear sky. Thoughts rush against the barriers of his mind and take over like a storm-in the most agonizing chaotic mess. There are moths and mosquitoes buzzing near his ear but he is too tired to pay attention to it all. The stars brightly shining and the gentle smell of chambeli in the air coming from the garden. The earth still and crickets chirping and the whole surrounding filled by the songs that his nostalgia brought him. It’s late and people are sleeping a comfortable sleep drowned in the world of sub conscious but he? He is here taking another walk yet alone in the memoirs of the past. Deeply consumed in his thoughts he sits up and with a half grin on his face and pours a glass of whiskey. Aaah alcohol a true friend of a sad man, a lover to the lonely and a family to the depressed. The majestic drink can heal the wounds no matter how deep they are. Like a sweet lover it gives you support when you break down in to your worst not a human but a beast. It runs through your veins and takes away the pain with it only to make love to your bruised and defeated existence. As humans we all are bleeding, with wounds inflicted on our existence not seen by others but they bleed and when they do a man needs something to console in and for this I have my dearly beloved a beverage of pain. Humanity is a profanity in its own terms and nobody belongs to anyone, for he had seen the world and had a handful of experience which relates to it. The truth is he was exhausted now, he knew in the end everyone ends up alone but he didn’t think this would be soon for him; or this early to begin with. It made him sick because he adored her to an extent which led to this; a chill makes its way down his spine. She left him and now he’s alone with my remorse and regret which showers his mind every night he lays to bed, the thoughts and memories from the past haunting his present and to which he cannot do anything about and so he lays there and give in to them to the world of memories and take a long walk down the road of his demise of good days. Wouldnt you want to know now what happened?  He loved how sick mind game she played and those dirty tricks. She cut her name in his heart and now should he do the same to her or leave? Those nights and those days were meaningless again. And now that he’s here again in the dead silence of the night you can actually hear the thoughts speaking out loud. The density of his cerebrum can’t handle this anymore. These are my thoughts that nobody should ever know, he think he’s doing okay or at least pretend to be. He can’t even remember if he is awake or asleep. These thoughts fight in his mind like lose cannonballs and the land disoriented. He hears the street guard whistle and comes back in to reality of where he was again. He lights up his cigarette and the first puff entwines his mind with pleasure and enwraps his mind and body in pure bliss. Taking a shot of his pain and a shot of the memories what could be better? And so he’ll sit here and drink. Drink away the pain and smoke away the worries until his blood turns in to alcohol and maybe he’ll call her again tonight.