One zalim Poem: The Expatriate Dilemma

Posted on August 24, 2010
Filed Under >Mohammad Ayaz Abdal, Poetry
29 Comments
Total Views: 101007

Mohammad Ayaz Abdal

This poem is making rounds on the internet. My title to this poem is ‘ek zalim nazm’. Listen to it once and see why.

29 responses to “One zalim Poem: The Expatriate Dilemma”

  1. tariq khan says:

    Adil, I was really disappointed to see this featured on ATP which I have always considered a classy blog The performance depicted was and i can only charatersise it as a performance in the new style of mushairas popularised by performers from across the border was nauesating in its contents which puts all immigrants in one mass which I am not sure if the performer belongs to or not If he is here from the land of the pure to teach us a lesson he needs to go back and improve the lot in Sialkot( see the next post), get the killers of ahmedis and shias and christians punished, get the parlimentarians with false degrees to resign,need I go on, and if he is her as an immigrant then he should get up each morning look in the mirror and perform for himself ,before he goes and collects the check from the immigrants who are paying him. What was even more surprising was the enthusiastic applause by the immigrants he was insulting. Am I missing something. And Many of us are not here for the dollars but are here for a enhancing our intellectulal horizons, our education and for acquring the means to help our brothers and sisters in Pakistan. I am sure the performer has done his share! Tariq K

  2. Saqib Awan says:

    It’s indeed zalim nazm!

  3. saeedshiekh says:

    Poem dedicated to the people who have lost thier lives in the tragic incident of flooding. Though, it is to be the worst nightmare of deaths due to water alone, we must not forget that there is another flood of corruption and immoral conduct that kills hundreds each day. I wrote this poem from the blood of my soul. Read the message. It is a poem that has won several awards. I am sure you would like it too.

    Floods run through my cities

    Blood oozing from the palpating stones of our politicians

    Both streams massacre as their droplets hit the ground

    We live in hell domain

    Innocent lives killed without a reason

    Diluted and Corrupt officials embark on helicopter rounds

    How can they hear the screams of my little Amina as she tries to stay above water?

    From that height

    They will not know

    The dead bodies

    Beneath the floating roof tops

    They ask for international aid?

    International aid does not give care and understanding

    International partners cannot give you a heart
    Read more…

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  4. sidhas says:

    thank you

  5. Farrukh says:

    Ah, the guilt of the expatriate. More catharsis than anything else.

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