Learning to Breathe

SUMMER RAINS I. The cruel heat of summer months Char the earth As it heats up, Burning Degree by degree. The air with gasses pollute The lungs, the heart, The inner soul. Dryness and death And cremation. Bodies burnt within seconds Of their long drawn birth. Summer prevails Year long, life long With no relief. Barren is the land, Seething in angst. The hope of Resurrection, Closer yet distant. Release is but a myth - Another legend from the Fancy of Man. II. But then welcomes man A cool breeze from the West, Bringing news of rain and shower And the fragrance of birth and love And the touch of green robes Brushing the skin. The lush spirits of the leaves Breathe life, Leaping from the boughs That once held them back. The sky is covered in a misty blue. Water kisses the land below Quenching its thirst, Soaking the very roots That once lost faith. No soul gasps - But each breathes in the air St...

FOR KING AND COUNTRY An august procession of the kingdom's riches, Elephants, camels, cows and dogs Marching in a strict order of ambling lines To the right of the barracks, Or to the far left of the the nurse's tent, Or right in the middle of the battlefield - Where the two armies meet, Dressed in full armour, With helm and horn, White gauntlets charmed against The Witch's Sun, Robes to cover every inch of skin from his poison And a visor to screen the soulful eyes From the wretched workings of the enemy. Flags and banners fly proudly high, Horns blow wildly and raise furore (And so do the bells of the bulls As they march by.) But spirits rise higher still! Bold knights willing to breach their lines, Break free from regiments and rush To a martyr's noble, honored fate. And some of sturdier metal Stand their ground and await The King's orders (For perhaps a khaki clad ambush Lies in wait ahead.) Had this fores...

BECAUSE YOU SAID, "ENJOY!" It's getting harder to enjoy the day When the neighbour's son is questioned For growing his beard, When the girl with a cloth Over her head Is mocked for having no sense Of progress, of modernity, of civilization. It's getting harder to enjoy the day When the little girl With the foreign sounding name Is the last to be picked On the cricket team, When elders warn the young, Don't say it aloud Don't send it as a message Delete everything you have When all you have is nothing. Nothing upon nothing upon nothing. It's getting harder to enjoy the day When a mob murders a man Cutting him to pieces Ecstatic in celebration, While they stay busy Studying the type of meat He was carrying, And they are still Ecstatic in celebration. It's getting harder to enjoy the day When they say They all say They have weapons Weapons to protect the land, (To guar...

FLYING VICTORY A glorious passion unknown to me, Of valour, of courage, silenced today, When a holy force plunged, battled away The scarlet monuments of history. Then unfurled the golden wings of victory And opened gates of jewels, spoils to stay, A spirit rising, flying to its sway To meet the host of godly company. Stabbed and wounded the body now remains A son, brother, father, fallen again And I complain of Time slipping away! May the banner fly as high as those wings May it envelop the world in its care And may a martyr never die in vain! - Maryam Kaleem The Battle of Mu'tah was fought in 629 AD (8th year after Hijrah), between the Muslims and the Eastern Roman Empire. The battle is remembered among Muslims for the bravery and courage of the martyrs, most notably, that of Zayd bin Haritha, Abdullah bin Rawaha and Ja'far bin Abi Talib (May Allah be pleased with them).  Ja'far lost both of his arms in b...

THE NEW RELEASE Rough, muddied hands, Innocent, yet weathered, A child of the streets Orphaned and disowned by Love. A breeding ground of emptiness. Round, wide eyes Of chocolates and diamonds Twinkling by the light of the passing car. But a mischievous smirk Yellow from ear to ear Reveals the blackened mind. Bewitched by Fate Riding his thoughts, His hands stretch to gather all All, all that survive, All that thrive All that are happy, bold and alive. While Fate's puppets dance Through light and shadow, Arrows shoot from his once round eyes. Hands muddied and bloodied, Heads splintered and sullied, Threads snapped with the greed Of a child with gluttonous zeal. With a new scene behind, Puppets, curtains fall to the floor, Now showing hunger and laughter and gore! Met by an audience of gasps and claps And chants of encore -  Now in Hundreds, now in Dozens, Until One screams "No more! No more!" ...

CALLING ON AN EMPTY HOME Familiar streets, familiar buildings, An old key to match the rusting lock A stubborn door, weathered and wise - Lift it to the right and it creaks open. The old wooden table, with notches and scratches, The same burn from the spilt milk. I wince - I feel the sting, a decade too late. The same wall with incomprehensible dashes Like ants crawling in zigzagged fashion, A letter, a dash, a number, An unraveled code of growth and wisdom, With dusty trophies as evidence. A worn desk with crumbling papers And jammed books, All holding the memories of a time that once was, A time, never found again. Familiar walls, familiar pages - An absence of faces, an absence of voices. Memories volleyed from wall to wall, Fate decreed, page after page, Now lying undisturbed, unheard. A flood of nostalgia unleashed Through the opened door Into a cold, fragile mind, Brimming, overwhelmed, Screeching with echoes. So...

DOUBLE MURDER Book spread-eagled on the desk Fallen flat after a leap of faith. A morbid, macabre morgue, It stinks of rotten Fate. Skin grainy and wrinkled, Pale yellowy flesh. Dog eared, unbound, A murder - bloody fresh. Scarlet rivers overflowing Every finger, every limb. Veins of protein rich blood, Splattered over the brim. Black ants form a queue Muttering in meters, Chanting hymns to the Devil And his creeping, crawling critters. No lone murder, Second victim at its side. Eyes in Keatsian stupor, Dead or alive? Kick the bodies over, Pages unfurled fly. A shroud for the corpse To let out a sleepy sigh. Alarm bells a-ringing, A frantic dance of unrest, Caffeinate the eyes, Tomorrow's the test! - Maryam Kaleem

UNWEBBED With cool dew waking up the drowsy woods, Dazed by the perfume of jasmines divine, Amidst a lush labyrinth of lilting leaves, Lies a flimsy dwelling of glassy white. Eight fingers crawl between the latticed blinds Expanding their fortress, conquering woods, Circling, ensnaring the innocent fly, Trapped within blades of the hypnotic web. Pleased with her might, tarantella performed, A commanding glory, to her is due - But a little songbird comes bolting through, The fortress vanquished, dauntlessly it flew. Credulous be that flies to traps and death, With wide wings, rather soar to challenge threats. - Maryam Kaleem

CHANGE What do you do when change falls on you  Like a bolt of lightning? When the world spins and spins, Making you dizzy and insane, And the blue roof above your head Collapses and shatters into bits, And within each shard you see yourself -  Bloodied, broken. You stand alone in a world Suspended in empty chaos. No life breathes. No leaf moves. No breeze brushes against your skin. Bodies lie dead like fallen dominoes. Death prevails at center stage. But the corpses rise once more Pale as leper's skin, The wind begins to howl - Now cold and biting. Leaves bleed their color Setting fire to the trees, While the moon smirks as she cloaks The world with witchcraft. Change ushers in a netherworld, The mind snatched from the bower it holds on to, Memories frozen into streams of ice, Dreams burning away blinded eyes, And with it, extinguished lies the soul. A mere body, an empty vessel - Awaiting judgement. ...

The 21 st century has seen a revolution in the way humans communicate with each other. The importance of learning foreign languages has received great impetus among working professionals in recent years. While knowledge of a foreign tongue can be an asset in business or tourism, research indicates that learning a second language during childhood is more beneficial. Studies in linguistics have asserted that language is not merely a verbal activity, but a cognitive one. Learning a foreign tongue helps strengthen the brain, and opens it to newer possibilities. Better problem solving skills, critical thinking, and creativity are characteristics seen among multilingual children. The more the brain is exercised, the sharper it gets. Learning a foreign language at a younger age also has linguistic benefits. Children respond to it in the same way they would their mother tongue. Pronunciation, grammar, and vocabulary skills are better inculcated, and children do not have to s...

"A" SPLASH (An exercise in "a") Splash splash - sand at hand. Mama, Dad, Pat and Sam. Play games, make sandcastles, Dance and camp. Races, matches, darts and dashes. Lads and lasses at lake paddle. Warm days pass - sprays and splatters Ah! Happy days! At battle, army lad - shatter, smash. Take all. Slay all. Waste away masses. Shake pain. Stand. Attack. Stab stab stab Face gnashed. Car crash. Splash. Scarlet dash. Harsh hands Scratch scratch scratch. Fate damned. At last, Calm. Stand, stare at vast waves. Strapping, tall splashes. Salty taste. Splash splash splash. A sad statue at stable pace. Advance away, army lad. Waves take haste Rapids gyrate Gasp and pant Sharp rasp Aghast Agape Call and wail Hands raised Sapphire haze! All Black. A final splash. - Maryam Kaleem

This is a revised version of my earlier poem 'The Candle'. CANDLE OF MOTHERHOOD Upright and confident she shone, A light amidst devils of old. Sheltering her enchanted child, From fiery fiends of the night. A candle with the power to light New beams, and embers of the past. A home where happiness abounds, Where wretched  ignorance stays out. Away now I lie from her sight, Away I linger in the dark. Now old I am, but wiser she Who warned me of my own follies. Still deep I fall into the pit With shadows now engulfing me. But from the corner leaps a spark, Her final breath to protect me. - Maryam Kaleem

A MOTHER'S WINTER I pray to God you never know, My prayers are never answered though. The winter's dark and dreary here, All that's wicked is masked with snow. See you yonder a man so queer Who wanders far when death is near? Is that the Reaper on the lake, From whom I've fled all through the year? With frightful fear I sit and shake, My child I've made a huge mistake. I pray my errors you do sweep, And flee this winter's frost and flake! Hurry now, child, into the deep, Glance not behind, my promise keep. Shelter find and a place to sleep While with God's angels must I sleep. - Maryam Kaleem If you find the poem vaguely familiar, it's because I've used the end-rhymes from the famous poem 'Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening' by Robert Frost, and have re-written the rest of the poem. This was a fun experiment. Hope you like it! Find the original poem here:  https://www.poetryf...

LAND LOST Where green blends with orange And merges into the very land, Where vast expanses of fertile plains Salute the mellow sun at dawn! To this union of emeralds set in gold I pledge my heart. Where orange skies burst with glee Showering mercy, extending joy To the young flowers plated with gold below - A festival of summer suited for the gods! To this abundance of colour I pledge my heart. Where verdant gardens leap forth with madness In tune with the music of the summer palaces Whose domes once echoed with haunting rhythms of the mystic. The earth engulfed in song! To this pious melody I pledge my heart. Where towering mountains shield the colours within, Their white caps melting into silver streams, That help bleed the red into the green - A sight stolen from the gardens of Paradise! To this divine canvas I pledge my heart. But, The sun now burns the land with a deep grudge, Piercing the hearts of the gardens t...

THE CANDLE Upright and confident it shone all night, And every night since its glow faded not. Enlightening sunless paths, enhancing sight, A guardian angel midst a gloomy lot. One candle with the power to ignite A million more. Young, polished, fairy-like, Inspired they are to put up a fight 'Gainst the devil's shadows - strike upon strike. One candle, a shield opposing the dark, One candle to shelter the soul within. One candle, warning the son from its spark, One candle, burning for me its own skin. Now molten, its bright flame leaps higher still, One final caution for the child who sins. - Maryam Kaleem

THE TAILOR'S SCHEME Snippety-snip, The scissors cut through Bundles of cotton, satin and denims blue. Five small dresses of identical hue, Identical fabric, identical sizes too! Five small dresses for five girls aged 22, Of varied tempers, varied virtues - ah! And varied sizes too! Round and round goes the spinning wheel, Stitching shirts and skirts is no ordeal. In gossips and stories lies the real appeal -  Whose mother's a witch? Whose husband's a steal? Spinning, weaving and twirling a reel, Crafting, creating, contriving a spiel. In these hands of thimbles and needles of steel Are nimble yarns ready to be revealed. And in the Third Act the tailor sits pleased, Gazing at the dresses - perfect, without grease! He curls his lip to reveal his disease As he snips at the threads lying at his knees. Tattered and frayed they're lost in the breeze, Years of woven knots, undone with such ease! Snippety-snip - their so...