Sunday, January 17
sidrah at 2:32 PM
About A BoyThis is about
a boy who unraveled
at the
seams one saturday night
This Boy was unwell in
the heart, he had
a cough of the soul
a flu of the spirit
an ache in the veins
but boy with sad melody
tempting and broken
quickly close up like a woken oyster
shut tight
as selfish self rejoiced
in the fading
glow
sidrah at 2:31 PM
Saturday, January 16
let me try to explain why i can't stand winters.the cold of lahore bites through your layers of sweaters and cotton kameezes down to your bones. there's something about this damp freeze, that settles over the city for a couple of weeks at the tail-end of december, that just isn't right. my friend from gilgit claims she can not stand the morbid cold snap this city throws up every year. and she would know.
but alas, this too has passed, is what i thought as i woke up to a yellow morning.
lahore is a city befit for spring. it spews up color and smell and tint and people and the twinkle of water leaking through fungi-clogged water hoses and loud peddlers selling fruit and green tall trees and the arms of willows dipping into the canal as boys with air-ful of shalwars learn to swim. all in spring (and older brother summer).
lahore is not this grim, gray stillness of fog.
it's a blue umbrella looking down a mix plate of colors. some colors, for instance, you will never forget. the color of the sun streaming through bougainvillea, making a limeish comfortable green. the color of murky bubbled brown, as the canal sweeps up branches in it's flow. the color of piercing yellow as you look up to the birds spiralling though a invisible swivell in the sky.
maybe i'm just spoiled by the poetry of spring. but winters? blaukhh!
sidrah at 11:14 PM
Friday, January 8
mist-shrouded lahorefog-cloaked
cloud-tucked
smog-rolled
hate it.
sidrah at 5:39 PM
Friday, January 1
mentally lined up a few resolutions for the new year while shuttling through a limb of Lahore this morning.they include books, positivity and God.
have a safe year, folks.
sidrah at 2:38 PM
Monday, December 28
I can't say i'm sad to see the end of this year. it's been one big flash of things whooshing by. sure there were memorable and beautiful moments, but most days were dogged by death and destruction. is this the Pakistan the kids will grow up to? I hope not. It's been three years and my country is living a plot that can't have been our story.the year opened with Gaza, and the utter pain of inhumanity searing our eyes.
then there was inauguration day for Obama. there was a pivotal moment when he walked through the hall, stops, and sighs deeply, in a trance - just like us on the other end. I remember crying that day. it was the year the sri lankan cricket team was attacked, and something switched off inside of all of us.
it was a year Bob Dylan became more relevant. it was the year i understood Abraham Lincoln. there was the Impossible Exam, and then passing it, and now awaiting the Next Step. not to forget the mammoth grand slam finals: non-tennis fans won't understand this, but tennis fans will - the sport is at a bizarre moment in it's history, with the emotion, camaraderie and ferociousness wrapped up into two of the greatest sportsmen of our generation, Federer and Nadal. It's at a phase people in the future will be asking us about. it's the most beautiful sport ever devised.
it was the year of the T20 victory that gave us a reason to hold our heads high for weeks. then there was a recline into winter, and even more bomb blasts and bad news. it was the year Marat Safin resigned, and a five-year love affair had to end.
it was the year of finding my way through a labyrinth of egos, and coming out louder, more sure of myself. it was a year of taking things in my own hands, and of holding some things and people on pause, as i fast forwarded others.
farewell year. for 2010, for my own sake, things must be done differently.
sidrah at 1:33 PM
Wednesday, December 2
death of the pulse, or death of the heart. is there much difference?sidrah at 10:16 PM
Sunday, November 22
"i wish you never looked at me that way"oh, how i wish you didn't
smile back the way you do
my heart pitter-patters
like summer feet on cold marble
i light up
like the veins of bougainvillea 'neath a baked sun
i soar
like a loose leaf in autumn fall
keep those subtle smiles
to yourself
those dancing smirks
that tousled hair
that lime scent
away from me,
out of reach
and not like this
this silly rumble of a pop song
that fades in
like a movie scene
when you enter stage
sidrah at 1:03 AM
