Kocha Sakhn - Express Urdu

Ghazal
I was surrounded by dreams that did not give way
Centuries did not give me a moment
I kept reciting names in the green mountains
When he wanted to leave, the pains did not allow him
Saba wanted to open the door in the morning
The sad vine flowers did not give way
I could not take alms from your hand
People did not give way to the poor man
He came looking for my heart
Neighbors’ houses did not give way
The bad prayers of the poor go to heaven
The planes flying in the air did not give way
(Faizan Ahmed. Jhelum)


Ghazal
There was no life, the wounds were a memory
We also spent the days that followed
We could never do otherwise
Which was neither praise nor praise
Now those who are deserted do not believe
We were also human beings who were made of steel
Whenever I failed, the dead came in handy
The times that were a ruined era
(Maksud Wafa. Faisalabad)


Ghazal
Where did all the good people go?
Are all the people out of your heart?
There was so much noise in my dead heart
I was scared, everyone was scared
How were all the promises made?
How did everyone turn away?
I used to kiss everyone’s hand
All the people gave up on me too
Seeing it broken, I witnessed it
All the people scattered with me
(Shahid Riaz. Dera Ghazi Khan)


Ghazal
How do flowers bloom in hearts?
How do people get lost together?
By giving dreams of love and loyalty to our eyes
How do people become legends?
Put a flowery smile on your lips
How do people spend ages in sorrow?
Bright dreams also accompanied the burning eyes
How do people sleep eternally?
How many flowers Amir had in his tender hands
How do people get pricked in the heart?
(Omeer Joya. Muriali, Dera Ismail Khan)


Ghazal
Write dreams or dream dreams
I wonder what I should write about you
Let’s see the sinking sun
Chalk then write the necks of desert climbers
Think of you as a cloud in the yellow season
Let me write to you in the desert of Hijran
So let him who is silent be silent in the world
So, if you say that, I will write you a riot of possibility
That is the axis of the dead circle of being
I write every letter to you dearly
I wrote to him earlier, but it is a lot
Yes, I want to write more prominently
(Shah Nawaz Sarmad. Mohammadpur Diwan, District Rajanpur)


Ghazal
I am losing my breath
I am going to love
He is laughing at my crying
I am crying only your cry
I have tears on your cheeks
I am washing flowers with dew
He seems to be sleeping in his mother’s lap
Like I’m sleeping in heaven
The perfume is dripping from your pair
I am soaking in it
People started doing bad things to me
That is, I am becoming famous
One day it will burst from my eyes
I am crying in my sore chest
I am not aware of your reality
I live in your dreams
Now the evangelist, who will believe this?
I am not what I used to be
(Muhammad Shahid Mubasher. Kotla Jam, Bhakkar)


Ghazal
The clock ticks slowly
Where does the dark night pass alone?
Come from the dream world of nickel to reality
Otherwise, life is wasted
He put his hand on his heart and explained
That passes through your lips to us
Where does he understand that he who has not passed on it?
He understands the one on whom the wife passes
Heard since there dude is in trouble
Our life is difficult here
Someone stop the birds on their way
Tell them that autumn has passed
We don’t have rooms, we have spacious graves
That through whom the form of prayer passes
That one person died and was praised from home
The wind also wails through the yard
(Younis Tahsin. Alipur Chatha)


Ghazal
The sound of the throats was not heard
Saba did not stop at Chaman
I was left sad
But it was not overdone
The wind was crushing the light
She did not stay
Mitchell was left in Mitchell’s
Sight did not meet
Thousands of sounds were given to him
But she did not turn back
He still showed up
That he did not have a watch
I was persecuted Ahmed
Murry did not go to anyone
(Ahmad Moaz. Rawalpindi, Kahota)


Ghazal
I also look at the sun, the mirror shows this moment
As soon as I remove the scattered hair on your face
The love you have given me is a wealth of pain
This is the blind earnings that I cry
Have I become Hasan Yar’s wounded painter?
Sometimes I make eyes and sometimes lips in my thoughts
The night of hijran is yearning, this heart does not move
I pat this innocent child and celebrate
My thoughts are bound by the hands of a master
That his thought prevails I forget everything
(Aamir Maan. Quetta)


Ghazal
This is the existence of poems from your imagination
Like brick, brick-to-wall existence
It felt like this when surrounded by a fence of closeness
As in paradise, the existence of a sinner
Prakar’s existence is a sign of a dot
One sign of the dot is the existence of Prakar
You think you are out of breath
The existence of the shadow of the wall is from the wall
I keep raw dreams wrapped under the pillow
I weave day and night the existence of two or four
Faizan cannot see each eye
The existence of relics kept in obscurity
(Faizan Faizi. Musa Kahot, Chakwal)


“Love”
Come on, I agree
you don’t want me
You don’t like me
Not even love me
Come on, I agree
Please tell me this
Anyone at a party
Mara when he takes the name
So why are you shocked?
Say, why do you sigh?
Any child in the street
When Murry talks
Why do you stop?
Just walk, just stop
I died hearing that mention
Why does the vision get wet?
Someone calling me bad
Ever the one who smiles
So why do you make a face?
Say, why do you cry?
You often die from the enemy
You fight about death
More than dead friends
Being very strange
Why do you mention me?
Why are you humming dead songs alone?
Why do you forcefully protect your eyes from tearing?
If you can’t do it, why are you shedding tears?
You often go to the roof
So why do you look at the wires?
Often than the moon alone
Addressee Why do you live?
I heard you say that
That “I’m all alone”
So why are you talking about this?
I still know
In the book of the heart, only the name of death has been written so far!
you loved me
you love me
Only love me
Come on, I agree
you don’t want me
Not even love me
Come on I agree!
(Shahzad Mehdi. Skardu, Gilgit-Baltistan)


Ghazal
Know where the people were, know where they went
All the promises made were reneged on
The destination of our love was not far away
Because of his love, he went to Nagar
The path of love is not easy, know this
Difficulty will be found in the way you went here
The fire of desire was burning in the heart
All around the fire was raging
Allah had written the term to live in this place
Duje Jahan’s path eventually disappeared
(Ahmed Masood Qureshi, Multan)

For publication on the poetry page of the Sunday magazine, you can send your poem along with your city name and photo to the following address. Appropriate and quality creations will adorn this page.
Page in charge of “Kocha Sakhn”
Daily Express, 5 Expressway,
Korangi Road, Karachi

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