DYSENTERY OF WORDS …….

A Page of my Diary
Muhammad Mahtab Bashir
Islamabad

Dedicated to my dear one!

The innocent smile. The mute story of beauty. The sacred look that does not chase worldly temptations. The voice that is uttered to praise the Creator and the birth envy that person who can stimulate the most sensitive part of your heart and mind. The chastity that is preverbal but the words cannot interpret it. The youth that is desirable. The character that is unparallel. Her beauty is not in her ivory neck but in the bow of her neck. Her beauty is not in her bewitching eyes but in the lashes that covers them from inducement. The captive of her beauty has to adore the bond, which is between two human beings.

The sweet fragrance, the seven colours, the splendor of sky and green forests, the precious gold and the mountain brook, the chirping birds and the playful kitten, the calm sea and the moonlight night, the smiling face and the mischief of a child, the power of pen and the magic of words, the sensitivity of a bubble and the conscience of a believer, the mercy of mother and the devotion of a soldier, the valor of a lion and the gentleness of a lamb, the sweetness of love and the determination of a freedom fighter, the heart of a woman and forgiveness for those who do her harm- all these qualities are a part and parcel of her character.

AUTUMN in ISLAMABAD

Mahtab Bashir

Islamabad

0333 53 63 248

O', how I love these shady lanes Where autumn colour gleams The tuft of grass so yellow and bare And not a flower seen As I walk along the lane Wind flicking through my mane Blowing away the pain and sorrow And all that was in vain The mist arising from the sky Was forming tiny shapes

So I watched the pixies play Tumble down and dance away The picture gradually grew so fine I lost the count of passing time … Falling leaves then touched my face My mind alight, I stood and gazed – Rust and gold, Red and Brown Colours falling all around The world was smoldering, I was there

I saw the autumn everywhere.