A poem composed as I think of how my life has been for five decades. I wrote a poem titled "THE CARAVEL OF TIME" way back in 1982 and described how one day all my friends will move on to get good jobs or marry rich girls in the hope of enjoying this worldly life. I knew they would have no time to me as some of hem, like Shazi, my God-given best male friend also fell in love, got married, had children and then left for Wales where he got a nice job as a surgeon and still happens to be settled there. He promised he would call me there too and this he said while sipping tea at the Pearl Continental Hotel in Rawalpindi's poshest areas. I laughed and said: "Well my friend, let us see." That was in November 2004 and today it is more than 13 years and three months ago...yet he has still not called me even on a visit to where he is with his mother, wife and three sons: Swansea, Wales.
He, however, still finds time to talk to me over the phne, email me, exchange comments on the mobile phone's "What's App". Shazi has definitely helped me a lot and I am thankful and grateful to him and Allah Almighty for bestowing a friend like him on me. I do not know what my lonely life would have been without Shazi or more than that without my beloved and caring mom of moms. My sons and my daughter also care for me but they are quite grown up now and prefer to think about themselves and their future in the days, weeks, months and years ahead. They love me too but are not the same as I expected them to be when they were little boys going to school and listening to my stories I used to tell them before they fell aslleep. My daughter Hiba is my darling dearest and I wish all the best for her (As well as my sons Maroof and Altamush) in the life of this world and the Hereafter and as I lvoe her very much I also pray to Allah Almighty to give her the best of life on this earth and also on the Last Day.
This poem, it appears, dawned as an inspiration in the wee hours of the dark night with winter departiing slowly and often making us feel its coldness still. But as Shelley the poet said:"If winter comes, can spring be far behind?" Even I feel the same way.
I hope the readers, especially poetry lovers, will like this poem of mine and comment on the same. I wish them all the best at all times.
