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"Azra Nafees"
They call me a terrorist!!!!!!!
A terrorist ,who creates terror and destroys everything that comes my way,
Scarring the beauty of their Metropolitan cities.
But how?:donno:
Am I the one ?
Maybe they saw a weapon with me!
The weapon,which I inherited from my forefathers,
Which is part of my manhood and372-shed
which adorns my graceful dress!
Exactly the same as their Sikh brethren carry a Kirpan
Or the Arabs carry a dagger or sword!
Are they terrorists too?
I do carry a weapon,for I am a man,
But
Who snatched pens from my children?
And gave them guns?
Who bombed their schools or
Converted them into barracks?
They call me a religious fanatic!!!
And illiterate!!!
Well, I am religiously motivated,
Because
They are on an open spree to saturate our land with innumerable madrassas!
They build schools,I become a scholar,
They build a madrassa,I become a Talib!
And I am not illiterate!
As they call me,
I remember all the work of my great writers on my finger tips.
I quote Rahman Baba,Ghani Khan Baba,Hamza Baba,Roomi and Gibran
In my discussions!
Since they never gave me schools,
So I can't speak on their terms!
And I am not a religious Extremist!
I remember entertaining Jews,Christians and Hindus
As my worthy guests, as our tourists
on my beautiful land!
But they ruined that great haven,
Just to paste this label on me!
Well,I never bombed hotels in Mumbai!!!
Did I?????
They call me a kidnapper!!!
Am I?
Let me tell them,
I have the most prettiest girl as my wife!
Her complexion as fair as the snow white!
Her cheeks as pink as cherry apples from Kalat!
Her eyes blue as Sapphires!
Her hair like those of the Goldilocks!
Her name is beautiful too!
She is always adorned with the smartest Jewelry ,
Around her wrists, neck, and ankles.
Which I find mostly in the tallest malls of their big cities.
She wears a dress which she exquisitely designs,
And embroiders with her fragrant and delicate hands,
And which their wives cherish to buy at any cost!
Her voice is beautiful too!
When she speaks,
They cannot make it from the sweetest melodies of Rabab or Sitar!
And her gait!!!
Oh my God!!!!
She walks like a gazelle!
Her silver shrilling anklets announce her approach,
When I am in deep slumber!
How can I be a kidnapper?
And who shall I find more glamorous and lovelier than my girl for kidnapping?
They say I am A villager!!!
Well, Yes, Yes and Yes,
I am a villager.
And I am proud of that!
Though I am not a great fan of designer's crockery,
Yet I love the designer earthenware,
Which my local potter designs with such dexterity and skill,
Always giving me the aromatic flavour of the dust,
Which I am made of and which I shall return to!
And which they very triumphantly call their handicrafts,
Displaying them on show shelves at visible places in their homes!
Yes,I am a villager!
I never craved for red gum furniture around me,
Because the relief I find from lying and sitting
On my hand-knotted carpets and rugs is undescribable,
As I learnt my crawlings on these soft and thick-mushed carpets!
They say I am against music!
How can they throw dust into my eyes by saying this?
Don’t I play Rabab and Sitar?
I am the Pukhtun who loves listening to the mellow tunes
Of Sitar in my Hujra!
Even my poor shepherds play their flutes with such perfection
That I unknowingly start singing “Tapay”,
Which I have learnt from my Grandma!
They also say,
Pukhtuns have migrated to our cities as miscreants!
No!
They didn’t have a choice!
Their homes have been reduced to rubble,
They have been forced by the circumstances
To leave their lush green Vales,
And save the lives of their surviving young ones!
O my friends!
Come to my home, a pile of debris,
And bring me hope!
I shall not hesitate to give my life for such a gesture.
You might not find the glitz of their huge cities here,
But our hearts are brimming with love and loyalty!
We shall sacrifice our youthful lives
But will succeed in bringing dawn to the darkness of time!
You bring us hope,
We lay our lives for you!
They call me a terrorist!!!!!!!
A terrorist ,who creates terror and destroys everything that comes my way,
Scarring the beauty of their Metropolitan cities.
But how?:donno:
Am I the one ?
Maybe they saw a weapon with me!
The weapon,which I inherited from my forefathers,
Which is part of my manhood and372-shed
which adorns my graceful dress!
Exactly the same as their Sikh brethren carry a Kirpan
Or the Arabs carry a dagger or sword!
Are they terrorists too?
I do carry a weapon,for I am a man,
But
Who snatched pens from my children?
And gave them guns?
Who bombed their schools or
Converted them into barracks?
They call me a religious fanatic!!!
And illiterate!!!
Well, I am religiously motivated,
Because
They are on an open spree to saturate our land with innumerable madrassas!
They build schools,I become a scholar,
They build a madrassa,I become a Talib!
And I am not illiterate!
As they call me,
I remember all the work of my great writers on my finger tips.
I quote Rahman Baba,Ghani Khan Baba,Hamza Baba,Roomi and Gibran
In my discussions!
Since they never gave me schools,
So I can't speak on their terms!
And I am not a religious Extremist!
I remember entertaining Jews,Christians and Hindus
As my worthy guests, as our tourists
on my beautiful land!
But they ruined that great haven,
Just to paste this label on me!
Well,I never bombed hotels in Mumbai!!!
Did I?????
They call me a kidnapper!!!
Am I?
Let me tell them,
I have the most prettiest girl as my wife!
Her complexion as fair as the snow white!
Her cheeks as pink as cherry apples from Kalat!
Her eyes blue as Sapphires!
Her hair like those of the Goldilocks!
Her name is beautiful too!
She is always adorned with the smartest Jewelry ,
Around her wrists, neck, and ankles.
Which I find mostly in the tallest malls of their big cities.
She wears a dress which she exquisitely designs,
And embroiders with her fragrant and delicate hands,
And which their wives cherish to buy at any cost!
Her voice is beautiful too!
When she speaks,
They cannot make it from the sweetest melodies of Rabab or Sitar!
And her gait!!!
Oh my God!!!!
She walks like a gazelle!
Her silver shrilling anklets announce her approach,
When I am in deep slumber!
How can I be a kidnapper?
And who shall I find more glamorous and lovelier than my girl for kidnapping?
They say I am A villager!!!
Well, Yes, Yes and Yes,
I am a villager.
And I am proud of that!
Though I am not a great fan of designer's crockery,
Yet I love the designer earthenware,
Which my local potter designs with such dexterity and skill,
Always giving me the aromatic flavour of the dust,
Which I am made of and which I shall return to!
And which they very triumphantly call their handicrafts,
Displaying them on show shelves at visible places in their homes!
Yes,I am a villager!
I never craved for red gum furniture around me,
Because the relief I find from lying and sitting
On my hand-knotted carpets and rugs is undescribable,
As I learnt my crawlings on these soft and thick-mushed carpets!
They say I am against music!
How can they throw dust into my eyes by saying this?
Don’t I play Rabab and Sitar?
I am the Pukhtun who loves listening to the mellow tunes
Of Sitar in my Hujra!
Even my poor shepherds play their flutes with such perfection
That I unknowingly start singing “Tapay”,
Which I have learnt from my Grandma!
They also say,
Pukhtuns have migrated to our cities as miscreants!
No!
They didn’t have a choice!
Their homes have been reduced to rubble,
They have been forced by the circumstances
To leave their lush green Vales,
And save the lives of their surviving young ones!
O my friends!
Come to my home, a pile of debris,
And bring me hope!
I shall not hesitate to give my life for such a gesture.
You might not find the glitz of their huge cities here,
But our hearts are brimming with love and loyalty!
We shall sacrifice our youthful lives
But will succeed in bringing dawn to the darkness of time!
You bring us hope,
We lay our lives for you!