Aurora

Nature, COVID-19 and I Hushed streets, dwellings echoed by midnight barks, families falling together to kindle life spark, feeling value and warmth of the nearby relations, Nature is set free to play its fiddle and dance; are some rare fruits that humanity since centuries has missed in a rush to make way in a noisy world, broiling under competition and pride. I, a mother, have no other occupation than to attend my young ones. We have long moments of closeness, association uninterrupted by ceaseless routine calls to duty. Its they, I and time. That’s all.

A JOURNEY TO THE POST-COVID WORLD Excuse me! God has not stopped growing crops. He has not held water to impregnate the earth. Plants have not stopped making oxygen. Water has not stopped flowing down the hills. Our water reservoirs, oil fields haven’t dried up. Winds are still whistling. Mr. Money is not flinging out the earth. Then why this all hue and cry about losses, falling indexes, crippling economies, nation creeping and crawling to the death out of hunger. In fact, the core of infestation lies in sucking up the buying power of the dependents, Have nots or dispossessed by the Independents, those who Have and own. These Independents, the Haves and the owners are, in fact, the developed nations, states, landlords, proprietors, etc. Developing nations have to pay debts, the subject has to pay taxes, the tenant must pay the rent. Just imagine if the developing nations have not to pay the develop nations, they will not have to resort to IMF or WHO in such emergencies. If gra...

(Poem) High mountains in Baltistan; Lush green plains and rushing rivers of Punjab; Thal, Thar, Thar Parkar of Punjab, Sindh and Balochistan; Valley and sides of Khyber Pakhtoon Khaw; All in bound in our beloved Pakistan. Folklores of Sassi-Punu, Heer-Ranjha; Infusing love and Primitivity of people; From the land of five rivers; Harapa and Moinjodarro of Indus valley; Echoing the civilization of last ages; Himaliyas, Karakuram and Hidukush; Whispering with cosmos, reflecting the heaven; Basin that kiss the ocean, deserts that hide in treasure; Constitute the great republic of Pakistan. Seasons, though, are in clutch of time; Yet here we relish at same time; The cool gusts and burning day; on diverse lands of colorful Pakistan. Where fruits laden the trees; Where nuts never stop showers; Where grain love to pierce out the clay; Where nature wrights divers tastes; In vegetables cladding in various hues. Here doctors, engin...