Wednesday, 18 August 2010

Hol(e)y Smoke  

That scratch of the match, 
the sound of the flame, 
that crackle when inhaled, 
all like a beginning to a concerto, 

The Holey Smoke, 
the divine connect to the lips, 
the fumes from the bloke, 
as graceful as ever ; 

Everywhere it read, 
smoking kills , tobacco causes cancer, 
yet , warnings are being killed, 
and smoke is acting like a dancer, 

to know why a man smokes, 
you have to know the feelings unknown, 
ask of it to the bloke who once swore, 
that , " cigarettes and I will gel no more " ;

The air of smoke, 
is now in tandem with the feelings of that bloke, 
opportunities all around, 
but vanish in a puff of smoke, 

Swearing , too , had a price to pay, 
it kept cheating again and again, 
in an attempt to be truthful to one, 
that bloke chose the stick which costs five times one ; 

Now , smoke rings still circle around ,
how he wished it were gone , 
like cuffs it is still bound, 
when will that bloke come around ?

with violence in the movement of fumes ,
the concerto has finally begun ,
serenely floating up in the air ,
like a paradox unleashed and bare .

Posted in , , by ATAullah | 0 Comments

Sunday, 25 April 2010

My Lord Friend.  



Disclaimer : A little adapted , a little more translated  and hugely inspired by a song of Gulaal called Yaara Maula . Listen to it if you can . You wont curse me after that . 




My lord, my friend,
In my dreams the world is still beautiful,
Hands full of balloons and a ballooning trend, 
A beat in my heart as ever graceful .

My lord , my friend ,
Yes , Those were the world of dreams ,
Those were the world of books ,
Where every breath would create ripples ,
Where eyes would sparkle passion ,

My lord , my friend ,
You were my earth, you were my sky,
But little did I know of your equity,
So , I stood on the edge of a deep hole of immorality ,

In throngs, then they came ,
They carried swords and said , friends they were ,
Commanded to throw away those books ,
And educated me to wear swords and cuffs with all its care . 

“ This hole that you see ,
Wealth enormous will there be ,
Tomorrows world is in there .
Take this sword and jump with a dare .
Kill whoever dares to stand before You .
and then the future will belong to You .”

I did what they told me to do ,
Because they wanted me to do so ,
I do not know why I did it ,
But they only told me they wished me to do so .

That hole was dark ,
But , I had gone too far to remark ,
I was trained well , 
So couldn't see if I was killing my own self . 

Now , that taste of blood
That thirst for a kill ,
Has haunted me , has bounded me ,
You tell me what do I do ?
Who do I kill ?

Not a soul to guide ,
No more room to hide ,
My lord , my friend ,
In my dreams You still reside ,
That world , those books , no more lies ,

Tell me what I need to do .
My lord , my friend ,
What do I do ?

Posted in , , by ATAullah | 0 Comments

Monday, 19 April 2010

The Power of We  



United We stand, divided We fall is not just a phrase but a call for unity. A desperate call for I to collect into We. I, is just an entity. We are a force. A force, the power of which We'll realize once We are We . We are not just a nation of a billion people but a seething mass waiting for an opportunity to unite. Unity is power. We are the power.

The power of We is immense and It is high time We start writing We in capitals . It was We who fought for our independence. It was We who fought against injustice. It was We who stood out against corruption. It was We who emerged. It is We who give hope. We are the masses. We are a billion.

Now is our time. It is We who vote and elect. It is We who still fight against corruption and injustice. It is We who still light candles. It is We who still run the country. It is We who say O.K is no longer O.K . We are the change. We fight for a change.

We are constructed out of a huge numbers of I . Multiple bricks make a wall. Multiple walls make up a building. Multiple buildings make up a city. Multiple cities make up a country. The drift is clear and so is the power of We .

The power of We is always tested. And,   We win every time.  We continue to dwell within ourselves instead of dwelling the We  .  For how long will We be a dormant force awakening only when provoked. It is time to be dominant. It is our time now. We are the power .   

To all those friends who made sure We had the ride of a life . You are my power . We are the power . 

Posted in , by ATAullah | 2 Comments

Monday, 29 March 2010

Mornings and Mirrors  

Between dawn and noon ,
A morning lay ,
With a warning of doom ,
It had something to say .

The light of day ,
The greeting of gay ,
How happy You laid ,
On the bed You shared .

Time to wake up ,
Wants to be given up ,
Get up to mourn,
Its time of a morn;

Between true and lies ,
A mirror resides ,
A salutation for a fool ,
Making sure it was your fuel .

A faithful depiction ,
A mere reflection ,
Of a selfish being ,
Who can only see a me .

Look into them ,
See of what you have become ,
Ask help from the Mornings of err ,
It’ll guide you to a mirror .

The mirror then says , "Stare at me
Look into Your eyes ,
Don’t deny ,
I know Your lies ; "

Yes,Mornings bring light ,
But,soon darkness will ignite ,
You will then look better in the mirror ,
Better to be in the dark than look at an error .

Remember this , oh there ,
Mornings and mirrors ,
Will always be there ,
And they’ll serve only to terrify old figures .

You’ll understand this none ,
You’ll still stand in front of a mirror yon ,
You’ll look for you ,
Yet , You’ll find no clue .

Posted in , by ATAullah | 0 Comments

Wednesday, 10 February 2010

A Tiger's Soul  

An unsung chorus ,
an unpracticed choir ,
chant they all ,
but the Tiger shall fall .

Save a Tiger,
to save the Tiger,
that rhyme with a reason,
but just a mere illusion .

1411 is the number left,
now , concern just abreast ,
all the reason and treason ,
point fingers at us in unison .

poached and skinned ,
on walls of pride ,
low it lies ,
still and dispirited,

“ It’s better to be extinct ,
‘cause we have no pride left.
We are still treated as leftovers,
and caged , while our souls wept “

Campaigns and Ads ,
are now just a fad ,
of marketing and brands ,
the story just so sad .

Orange , black and white ,
those colours that would fade ,
feline so fierce ,
for fear of share khan we ate

Go to a zoo ,
give childhood a call ,
have a last look ,
the number shall fall .

Their end is near ,
it's alright to fear ,
national animal it is named ,
now , another beast our children will fame .

// Replies worth an amend

Hadi Husain 



The color of the fire
in the tiger
ignites a desire
to want the tiger

You praise the cat
for the beauty it possesses
You release that
"want" bounded by leashes

We want to see it in the zoo
We want to save the national pride
We want our children to see it too
Do we want to feel we really tried?

Poaching it is just a game
The Poacher still has no shame
Its we who are to blame
for we have given the tiger its name.

Ataullah Husami


Fire or ire ,
colours just the same ,
light a pyre ,
burn that mane .

That cat worthy of praise ,
that desire worthy of shun ,
unleashed ,the song sung ,
of tailing profits, they agreed to share .

Sanctuaries and zoos ,
museums that fool ,
all will be looking for pride ,
and they will find it too.

Tigers gone, cubs will fall short,
soon generations lost ,
our children shall talk,
of who the poacher was .


Ali Ziaee 






The ire of fire,
Underestimate it not,

Make as many pyres,
But fire cant burn fire,

You call it a cat,
I call it THE cat,

It’s never ‘sung’ its never but ‘hung’,
Tail it awrite, but wary, of you it may profit

Zoos in fools will sanctuary seek,
When the ‘fire’ is out to breathe,

Hope, it’s a truth that will never become a lie,
Fear, tis lie that can never kill fire,

Yes, our children will talk,
And so, cubs of the tiger shall ROAR!

Balance my friend, that is God’s right,
But the jungle my friend, that right is thy Tiger’s






Hadi Husain 



Don't Idolise a cat
for its just another animal
why call it "the" cat
when there are other "fourteen hundred ten"

Don't praise it for its shape
for there are a hundred others
who don't possess its cape
but have qualities much better

the pride of zoos and sanctuaries
are fueled with your desires
"Come here O'fools" the museum cries
"I'll show you the color of ire"

Don't fool yourselves
in saving the tiger
your wants you delve
and SHUN your desires

why save a cat
when there are trees yonder
think about that
and please do wonder 










Ataullah Husami






The pyre is ignited ,
pride left only with flames ,
like an insult to ire ,
soon to be extinct like a Tiger.

A cat , the cat ,
difference none ,
hung they were ,
and a song then sung .

Zoo and sanctuary ,
its entity wrong ,
rather a menagerie ,
like fools we throng .

idolise, we did not ,
that's why this call ,
a last tribute may be ,
for all its worth .

fool ourselves ,
let's say we tried ,
we tried to help ,
but got lost in our pride .

wondered we ,
about the chain and tail,
of trees , a trail left ,
and inevitably a cat's praise . 

Posted in , , , , by ATAullah | 1 Comments

Friday, 15 January 2010

Her Love for Chocolate  

There was a time in my life,
Where I would write about what I like.

Now, there is a time in my life,
Where I will write about what she likes.

She told me, "chocolate is what I like",
I thought, then that's what I'll write.

It's been 22 years; there are lots that I have eaten,
But, writing about it left me completely beaten.

It's so seductive is what she told, when asked,
I noticed that a lot and the way she fought.

Let it seduce You is what I thought,
But, with restraint she is born and hence she fought.

We've all grown up, alright,
But, for chocolates and all we still fight.

It makes her sad when she does not eat the brown she likes,
Brown is what she wants to lose and the end is what she likes.

Uncontrolled - the urge, knowingly, she eats,
With treadmills and walks her heart beats.

She keeps telling me there is so much of that I can write,
Of how delicious its taste and of the feeling of might.

The feeling of might is of strange clay,
For, her smile for that chocolate makes my day  .

For a second, here, I forgot what I was writing about,
Chocolates or her is what I thought.

Posted in by ATAullah | 2 Comments

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