Month: February 2017

Drifting Contemplations: Grey (poetry in Urdu and English)

In this post I have two poems on how grey is my colour(not always true though)one was originally written in Urdu(an Indian language with it’s roots in Farsi that is Persian)here I have translated it in English and the other poem’s only in English, it was inspired by a conversation…sometimes it is really funny how words unveil themselves to me, in my life I don’t talk much but I love reading and interacting with other poets on social media, it is usually in these conversations that ideas to new poems are born, I guess poetry is where poetry is if you know what I mean and I have seen other poets too write after reading someone’s words, they get inspired and write and I find that amazing, to be someone’s inspiration or to be inspired by someone…
I’m going to have to remind you again that because this website is self-hosted it doesn’t have the regular features which other wordpress blogs have, I won’t know if you liked my poem unless you leave a comment, so please do leave a few words so I may know if you enjoyed reading, thank you.


rang sirf eik hain merei paas…
apni bebasi ka rang…
apni siyahi ka rang…
…surmaii…
merei aasamaan ka rang…
…surmaii…
khayaal bhi surmaii…
saari yaadein surmaii…
jis sabz zameen par merei khuwaab boye thei…
merei khwaabon kei jadon kei zeher sei woh bhi ab…
…surmaii…
merei hissei ka shehar sastei kapdon
ki tarah jo rang chod raha hai…
paani jo beh raha hai…
…surmaii…
rang sirf eik merei paas…
…mera rang…
…surmaii…

©Seema Tabassum 2016
©lifeshues.org 2016


I have only one colour with me…
the colour of helplessness…
the colour of my ink…
…grey…
the colour of my sky…
…grey…
all my thoughts grey…
all the memories grey…
the lush piece of land where I
had planted my dreams…
due to the toxicity of those roots has turned…
…grey…
the part of the city which is mine
is bleeding colours like a cheap fabric…
the water that flows wears the colour…
…grey…
I have only one colour with me…
my colour…
…grey…

©Seema Tabassum 2016
©lifeshues.org 2016


My eyes have never recognised
rainbow colours happy…
eludes me perpetually
the black and white clarity…
grey has always been my colour

©Seema Tabassum 2017
©lifeshues.org 2017
All content and images copyright 2017
All rights reserved.

picture courtesy : pixabay.com

For another post on colours kindly click here. Thank you.

Quixotic (poem)

Quixotic is the word(Masha Allah) and I don’t mean to exaggerate…

I’m the kind who
pays attention to
the details…
if I have a conversation
I have a hundred questions…
why did you say this…
when you said it
did you mean it…
or you said because
you were angry…
what’s going through
your mind…

questions become walls
and my entire life
I’ve been tormented
by these walls
which gave more questions
less answers…
you you and you
everyone thinks it’s frivolous…
I think it’s essential…
how will you deal
if you don’t know
why what and when
and how…
how to resolve…
I felt cornered
cut out and unwelcome
each time you left without answers…
when a conversation ended
without conclusion…
I felt cold and stupid…
and I have a side which doesn’t
want to be a pain either
by asking questions…

but in this entire world…
in this entire world
I have this person
who answers every question…
asks questions…
is concerned…
won’t let me be…
won’t let me wither…
is clear like stream water…
will answer till
I’m convinced
even if it takes the whole night…
will not shut the door on me…
will never leave things unresolved…
and no matter how stupid
or unnecessary my questions are
he answers all…
all till all’s understood…
till there’s no misunderstanding…
till there’s not an ounce of doubt…
till I’m at peace he won’t sleep…
and in the morning
when he wakes up
even after we’ve spent the whole night
trying to get things clear
his first words are
“Tabassum, Mamma, all’s well right, then hug”…

my work place is a couch
from which I can monitor
both the boys…
their beds I see from where I sit…
Taher(hubby) when he wakes up
flashes his phone’s light at me…
I’ve come to get so used to it
I wonder what I’ll do if a day
comes when he won’t feel the need to
or is not on that bed (God forbid)…
I hate to love so much…
depend so much…
hurt so much…
that’s why I like to
remain detached
and focus on other things
and not on our love…
our love is sacred…
I’m scared that my over involvement will jinx it…
that’s why I like to keep
the storm that is our love at a bay…
because it is oh so unreal and dreamy…
it cannot be true
and that scares me…
I don’t want anything going bad
to the only right thing in my life…
all my relations have been messed
except this one…
this one thing
that is right in my life…
and surely that only thing
that I got and I don’t deserve
am unworthy of…
that one thing I can fall back on…
that one thing that has no doors
that will close on me…
block me…
leave me in the cold or dark…
that one thing that makes my life
even worth living…
I cannot lose this heart
that is the purest form of love…
will love me even if I’m a cripple…
will overlook my flaws…
with whom I don’t have to worry
if I’m being a pain or asking the
wrong questions…
with whom I don’t have to worry
about showing the right side of me
because he embraces even my ugly…
the lost side…the confused side…
the emotional fool side…
emotionally dependent side…
drowned in nostalgia side…
living in the past side…
divided among so many things side…
the aloof side…
the selfish side…
the obsessive compulsive side…
the perfectionist(in vain) side…
the condescending attitude side…
the need to be left alone side…
the misanthrope side…
the hot head side…
the impatient side…
the restless side…
the superiority complex side…
the feels incompetent side…

each and every flaw in me
just goes unnoticed…
this man was made for me…
to fill the void for all that
I don’t have in my life…
to fill the hole that is my heart…
grateful is not word enough
and my actions don’t convey
gratitude either…
but my heart which longs
for a sea of people
has home in his heart…
we have home in each other…
if there is a word soulmate
it is him…
because a million times
we’ve talked without talking…
resolved issues without arguing…
answered without questioning…
accepted without judging…

though my heart longs for the world
it’s here with him where it
truly feels it belongs…
or is wanted and welcomed…
questions and inconveniences
and all

©Seema Tabassum 2017
©lifeshues.org 2017
All content and images copyright 2017
All rights reserved.

*The handsome man in the picture is my hubby.

To read another personal poem kindly click here. Thank You.

Drifting Contemplations: Muse (micropoetry)

Muse and musings and the poet, I don’t know what to say about my muse, I’m not even sure if I have one, I mean if I have only one, are we supposed to have only one? Maybe my mind is fickle, kidding, I find myself inspired by anything, everything and also nothing, maybe in my case the nothingness is what begets my poetry, the numbness could be my most favourite muse, I find myself writing just because my pen needs a run, but sometimes I write from heart too when I’m overwhelmed by emotions, it used to be a lot of heart earlier and so my tag line was `straight from the heart’ which I changed because now honestly it is more an exercise, but here, this post is all heart, his effects, his beautiful eyes and voice, hope you like…


drunk on
your voice…
my mind spews poetry

©Seema Tabassum 2016
©lifeshues.org 2016


I read
the best poetry
in your eyes

©Seema Tabassum 2016
©lifeshues.org 2016
All content and images copyright 2016
All rights reserved.

picture courtesy : unsplash.com

To read a post on Poetic Definitions kindly click here. Thank you.

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