I am and I am not.

Sitting there on the table, drinking tea

I am just a dot

sometimes needed and sometimes not

I was dispersing like smoke

Scattered like wind

a fist full of colour or a misty smog

dying the sky or a summer song

like in the morn

I saw when and it was not

when, it was W H E N

and I kept thinking, is it when or it is not

like the year before I saw the same quilt

there were beautiful flowers on it

and it was the first time I saw them

sitting there on the table drinking tea

I was there and I was not

like a puff of smoke floating in the air

I am and I am not.

Copyright © 2021 ASNworks. All rights reserved. Written Under the category of “Depression”.

When will the humanity rise?

Photo by Francesco Ungaro on Pexels.com

When world lies

and sun dies

I say to myself

When will the humanity rise?

Maybe with the first ray of sunshine

or after the noon’s siesta.

Sun pours the light into my pores

saturates my being and whatnot

I feel the purge and rejuvenation

but my sight sees the illusion.

How it hides the darkness in itself

when the light descends.

How the dark hides the darkness in its hide

so the world lies

I say to myself

when will the humanity rise?

© 2021 ASNworks. All rights reserved.


love, love, love…love. I am sick of it. It is everywhere and, I mean, everywhere like COVID 19(Just to make you understand).

That greatly looked for, vied for, great, great love that is not so great. If only. You may also wish for the moon. This love is talk of the town. Meaning, our globe. This world is a global village now.

I love that movie “I hate love stories” so much. Maybe just its name. Because in the end, hero and heroine falls in love with each other. The end. Ah yes, I just love its name.

So my title depicts the beginning and ending. When it starts, it’s oh so big. Then it ends with small letters. There is a song that perfectly expresses the sentiment at the end “o love, I feel like weeping at your end (translated from Urdu)”. it’s an old classic written by Shakeel Badayuni.

Oh, I am sighing even at writing it. Well, now there are two kinds of people; one, who wept at the ending and the other, who made them weep.

Misery upon misery. Torment upon torment, I say. This love is. Every person is crying. Some with small hiccups. Some with silent tears. And, some with loud, ear-splitting, big fat tears. The moral of story, every one is crying; those who fell in love and those who wish to do so.

I discussed this complicated matter of love with someone. They said, love is a thing that seldom happens, a rarest being in this world. Most often, it is a copy called flirt or infatuation. It occurs again and again. This made me recall another old classic “you shall forget all about infatuation, once you set foot in the arena of love(translated from Urdu)”. An awesome class of flirts conducted by Purnam Allahabadi.

P.s. this is all for now. Stay tuned in for my brain blues. And, love.

(Recommendation: Urdu has seen many a great novel writers in its post-partition history. And, Umera Ahmad tops the list in the recent past. She has written best selling novels. Her novel “پیرِکامل” is still the hottest and memorable read. The novel is available in English titled “the perfect mentor”.

I have never read a better love story than this one. So composed and well written. I recommend it for the fans of love stories, both English and Urdu bookworms.)


They were sitting in the car, waiting for their burgers. The server came with their order.

“At last! Thank God! I am so hungry”. Shiza exclaimed loudly.

Shiza and her three cousins started eating their favourite fast food which they had bought from a famous food outlet.

Suddenly, she threw away the burger through the open window. Neelum, her maternal aunt’s daughter, shrieked in horror. “What did you do, Shiza?”

“oh, I didn’t like the burger. I will eat something else.”

“So, you threw the burger?”

“so what! what’s the big deal?”

Neelum could not utter a single word in shock.

Shiza rolled her eyes in annoyance and turned her head to look out the window.

A child was sitting there on the road and eating something fast. Like a starving person. He was dirty all over. His face had not seen the water in months.

Her burger was gone.

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