GENDER JUSTICE: A Pragmatic Approach For Women Empowerment In Pakistan
- 15 Mar - 21 Mar, 2025
The Banana
So I am meant to be fed to the monkey
Wail till you have an encounter with my peel
Without the night, stars you shall see
For still life I join hands with friend apple
Different shapes of me decorate a cocktail
I lie on the table as the knife slices me open
An incision in my centre, split into pieces
My seed in you sprout a plant
The likes of which you have to see to believe
They should call you sprout a plant
I make ‘shakes’ about the reference
What you treasure to eat
Out of which you should not make mincemeat
Sacrifice
It seemed like my paradise was there to stay
Everything I always wanted I possessed
To hold, to cherish till, I was dead
The envy of the crowd, I swayed to the rhythm
My heart heated and my breath hummed
We were five in all, two boys and a girl
The mild summer and a picnic by the beach
Snowflakes on the mountains not out of reach
On holiday or at work
Happiness and contentment always at my doorstep
Suddenly fate started changing for worse
The truth came home, not an act to rehearse
He had to leave my side for greener pastures
The children went along, all for one, one for all
I was left all alone, to wipe my tears
One by one they left me for a motionless floor
I was all alone, all alone.
Companionship
Hold my hand, take me to the land
Where name nor brand
Will come in between true friends
Shall go to their house
Feeling like a louse
Smiles, warmth, mirth and cheer
Encompass me from all sides…
Take me away from my swing of mood
Feel I well and good
True friendship is hard to find
With materialism in mind
Wherever you are, come and touch me
For I am abound with sincerity
A friend I receive…
To avoid the mire….
Always be there
Give meaning to my blank stare
Learn From Your Mistakes
While jogging I tripped over lace
Next time tied my shoes with grace
I sang out of tune at the dinner
Practice, well almost made me a crooner
I fell when somebody pulled the chair away
Brushed my right hand, to my utter dismay
It was my turn, I said
Tit for tat
And hurt to my content
The guilty brat
In the run with
Trial and error
I have grown to be
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