Friday, March 12, 2010

To dear Taliban

Dear Taliban- we are not handing Pakistan to you! We are millions, you are few, we are educated you are not, we are humans unlike you so God is also with us!You can bomb us but not shut us up! Musalman hu tu samney aoo, chup chup kur bumb na barsao!

Yeh mulk humanara hai!
Issey Humnein sawara hai!
Dushman ka nahi guzara hai!

This country is ours,
We adorn it
The enemies won't survive

The civilized society is unitedly condemning these attacks!

One of the most ironic facts are, that these people attacked on the auspicious Muslim day- Friday. They attacked the people who were going to mosques, in the second Jumah of March. Now who would say these are muslims? Who gave these jerks an idea that they can take over our country and run it as they desire? We wont let this happen. Period.

Incidentally it was Habib Jalib's Death Anniversary. Jalib was one of Pakistan's foremost poets, popular for his pro-people and sensitive poetry:
Here is a poem by him that befits the current state of events:

Bagiya Lahoo Luhan
Haryali ko aankhen tarsen bagiya lahoo luhan
Pyar ke geet sunaoon kis ko shehar hue weeran
Bagiya lahoo luhan
Dasti hain suraj ki kirnen chand jalaye jaan
Pag pag maut ke gehre saye jeewan maut saman
Charon ore hawa phirti hai le kar teer
KamanBagiya lahoo luhan

Chhalni hain kaliyon ke seeney khoon mein lat paat
Aur nahjaney kab tak hogi ashkon ki barsaat
Dunya walon kab beeteinge dukh ke yeh din raat
Khoon se holi khel rahe hain dharti ke balwan
Bagiya lahoo luhan

The Garden Is A Bloody Mess

This poem is about the oppression in East Pakistan in 1971

Our eyes yearn for greenery
The garden is a bloody mess
For whom should I sing my songs of love
The cities are all a wilderness
The garden is a bloody mess

The rays of the sun, they sting
Moonbeams are a killing field, no less
Deep shadows of death hover at every step
Life wears a skull and bone dress
All around the air is on prowl
With bows and arrows, in full harness
The garden is a bloody mess

The battered buds are like a sieve
The leaves drenched in blood smears
Who knows, for how long
We’ll have this rain of tears
People how long do we have to bear
These days and nights of sorrow and distress
This oppressor’s blood bath is a frolicsome play
For the mighty of the world, a mark of their prowess
The garden is a bloody mess

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