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Better You Forget Me Part-1


Ehsan Elahi Ehsan

(Dedicated to my grand daughter Noor-ul-Huda Zahra)

Who can remember all the things in the passing life,
What can linger on in our memories in such a hectic struggle,
When the strong winds erode the banks of the river,
How is it possible for the river to suspend its flow,
In your feverish struggle of life, better you forget about me.
When there is a slight sting in the hearts,
The stock of love is damaged by the ignited hatred,
In such circumstances our soul begin to strike,
Against the walls of our body,
Please try to forget me in this state of your mind.
Here we keep the streets of pain so wide,
Here we put on the artificial garb of happiness,
Here we give an attractive make up to our faces,
To hide the emblems of desertion,
Please donít remind me of such a plight of man.
Here the accidents have become the routine of life,
Here the snakes are usually seen in dreams,
Whenever a traveler begins to think of the destination,
Many fears begin to stop his way
What should I tell of me, better you forget about me.
Here the fathers are forced to leave their homes,
In the same manner when the birds break their wings,
In their ambition to soar very high,
When a man cannot find any way to carry on,
He is forced to return his life to God.
Here the chastity is stained by the unknown hands,
Here the elders are made fun of,
When the blooming youth are intoxicated in their veins,
The old ideologies are ridiculed.
Sometimes the old age teases us with the memories of childhood,
Sometimes the innocent pleasures of childhood disturb,
Some times the stinging loneliness rules over us,
Sometimes we weep out tears of blood on our lost belongings.
Sometime a man becomes disgusted of himself,
He is caught by a strange kind of frustration,
He feels himself deprived despite having every thing,
All the paths look thorny to him wherever he wants to tread.
Here the children are affected by the strife of their parents,
The very persons who can give them happiness make them to weep,
When their personality is scattered from the very beginning,
They go on staggering throughout their lives,
Here the chums of boyhood pass by as strangers,
Here the real brothers turn against each other,
Here humanity is considered an old maid of the house,
Here the relations glimmer like burning and extinguishing lamps,
In such conditions better you forget about me.
Here are some persons who have to live in oblivion all their lives,
They are kept in the background for their highest capabilities,
Time keeps them in the courtyard of its jealousy,
And they are punished for the misdeeds they never did.
We have always been hearing of the cruelty of time,
Yet we do not believe in the force of love,
Sometimes all that we said and all that we heard,
Is wasted in the lands of doubts and mistrusts.
The dark path also provide some energy to the feet
The apparent misery also gives some consolation
When a man does not find any support from anywhere
He is compensated with the wealth of belief and patience.
Some people prove to be a blessing for others
Where there are no kiths and kins, some unknown people come forth
Those who keep a grudge against every one for nothing
Die one day without leaving any marks or memories.
Here the people are often travelling to the otherside of destination
Here the rivers of illusions keep on running in the minds
When there is no way to come out of miseries
People accept them as their fortune.
The jealous are never given the wealth of love,
If our inner self is not good, we cannot find any peace of mind
You have to implore the blessing of love,
The proud are always kept away from it.
Those who are in power always remain jealous
Even of the birds who are flying freely in the air
They will have to review their attitude
If they have any tinge of the fear of God in them.
I have still to arrange how to patch up the effects of autumn
I have to prepare myself to welcome the coming spring
Man can meet any calamity at any time
And I have still to prepare myself for that.
You keep the hustles and bustles of your city markets
I think the little delights of my village streets are better
No doubt, in your cities there are highly fashioned girls,
Yet the simple maids of my village are more beautiful.
I think you have not seen yet the deserted places,
You have not come across the burning coal beneath the ashes,
Time itself, sometimes is stunned
When it notices how the lovers stand beside each other.
Here the blood relation are also based on division
Here the families even are run by the selfish
The humanity, however, is based on attitudes
It is something else that those attitudes even are falsely adopted.
The world has been changed by man into a valley full of blood
Everywhere there is fire spread by man
No race is enemy of its own race as is man
This is the tradition which man only is carrying on devotedly.
There are some people who show themselves what they are not,
They garb their meaning with false words,
Whatever good impression they may give
The faces around them tell some different story.
It depends upon the intent and courage of the travelers
If they have to stop some where, it is only as a pause,
Although their feet seem to be tired yet their eyes are shining,
They are making their temporary stay to begin anew.
Still you have to pass through the desert of your love
Still you have to see what darkness is there
Still the spell of relationship is to be broken
Still you have to look with astonished eyes.
The flights of ideas are impatient I donít know how to control
The whirls which are in my feet do not let me stay
The fear of time is always prevalent in my mind
And my passions, which are rare, do not allow me to rest.
There is a strange chain of dreams going on
The knowledge of books seems to be incomplete before them
The insight is taking over the outward sight,
And the spring seems blooming in autumn.
O. Time, you have perhaps never thought
That these flying leaves had some relationship with the tree
The scene of departing breath from the body
Was presenting a strange tragic scene of fickleness of life.
We have also written some chapters in the book of life
Still there are some things saved for you
Time is very clever in playing its tricks
But we have also made a proper arrangements for it.
What realities are brought to light by the beams of my eyes
They have told me that all stones thrown at me were from my dears
My bleeding body is witness to it that,
These were my own nails constantly working on my body.
Reality lies some where else and the people are guessing some where else,
Those treasures that change the fortunes lie apart
Those ships that reach their shores
Always keep their watch on the rising waves.
Here the young birds without feathers are lying in nests,
Yet the scenes of sweet dreams are before their eyes,
The donít know how speedily and stealthily
The snakes are creeping towards them.
This land is becoming barren, let us make it fertile
Let us at least remember the things gone by
Time is constantly keeping us busy uselessly
Let us try to look on the beauties of nature.
We have got a beautiful garden yet we cannot guard it
We shirk from keeping a vigilant eye on it
Those who do not make an analysis of themselves
Are never bestowed with any kind of comfort.
The roaring waters have shaken the walls of the house,
The stormy waves have made it waver,
The follies committed by some persons
Bring out their results one day and ruin others.
Here the poor is always left helpless
Here the son of the labourer is bound to be labourer
Money is wasted on pomp and shows
But it is never used to lessen the poverty.
My friends! Why are you disgracing me at the last moment
Why are you burdening me with a shroud
That pain which I have concealed from the people
Why are you exposing it on my death.
The environment of the world has been polluted
Deep thoughts and ideas have been put to death
Man is being ruled by the radiation of weapons
The very hell is being created on this land.


There are whirls of doubts and fears and our bodies weak
We have left our garden at the mercy of autumn
The cloaks that our bodies are wearing
Have been torn by the queen of time.
There are the memories of some nears and dears in my mind
The mind is often occupied thinking about them
Please be careful when you peep into my heart
Because there are many snakes creeping everywhere.
We are living in the dominions of evil spirits
One has to be a snake charmer to docile these snakes
The goddess of evil is keeping our land under its strict watch
That even the angels are not allowed to pass by.
The poisonous wind of time is always sprinkling it poison
On our hopes and aspirations
The tiny plants are smothered by it
And they are not allowed to become grown up trees.
We are walking in an illusion of reality
The life has become hellish
Here there are some people who, till their last moment,
Keep on moving ahead with the pangs of dooms day.
Our doubts and fears donít have their own way
We are moving with our homes on the shoulders of wind
We aspire to see the tree of hope grown up and green
But suddenly a blow from the blue comes and it is burnt.
Keep on seeing the flow of my passions
Wait where this river stops
See what pearls the old age keeps in it cloak
And what ecstasies are shown by the youth.
Oh that the fragrant air would have told
If we could know how the life is passed
Would that we were provided in this wide jungle
A small peaceful and comfortable home in a corner.
If a man loses his mother land he loses his identity
All relations are lost or halved
Those who survive donít have a tinge of life
The bodies are torn in threads.
Time has looted us so much, and so suddenly,
That we donít find any place for shelter
All the human beings seem to be fed up with one another
And we are asking the winds where we have to go.
When bad luck becomes the identity of some body
When man is disgraced to the roots
In such a condition it is not so strange,
That people lose every kind of good taste.
Here are some people who are distributing only darkness
They are bent to injure all the shinning eyes,
Beware of letting any body enter your privacy
Or you will lose all the good intentions you have.
We will also be extinguished one day by the time
There would be no sign of burning in our ashes
As we are leaving the threshold in disgrace
We have decided never to come back.
We are always in search of eyes and shelter
We are always trying to explore human nature
This job is very difficult of course, yet
We are eager to search the ways in the jungle.
All our sap has been suck by the high trees
All our energy has been taken away
We have ever been kept as young plants
And we have been left to remain low.
You may also try to break the silence of the city
You may try to express your inner self
But the story seems very weak from the very beginning
Any how, try to give it a new colouring.
Go on nourishing the trees, they may give fruit or not
Keep on trying to breathe a new life in the dying life,
A day would come when those who are lying down carelessly
Would wake and there would be a noisy life every where.
Sometime God fearing people come to the memory
Some time the strangers happen to come and heal our wounds
Some time the forgetful friends suddenly visit
And heal our green wounds on the name of old friendship.
You vainly think that your refusal to accept God
Would make any difference to His greatness
From one end of the universe to the other
It is God every where that manifests Himself.
The poisonous wind never allows the tees to grow up
The houses full of people seem to be deserted
Where the van of life moves on the borrowed petrol
Then the close relations turn their eyes away from you.
We have come out to play the old game anew,
We have come out in search of the prophets of love,
Those hearts that had been separated by time
We have come out to join them again.
We are the people always running after thoughts
We keep awake when other are in deep sleep
We place our fingers on the cords of life
And go on telling the story of mankind.
It is the nature of man to see people rising and falling
It is his habit to find charms in life
It is usual with him to search for shelter
It is his attitude to find some one sane and the other mad.
Pause your boats for a while and look to the rising waves
Listen to that challenge which is being made to them
Look to the faces of the people standing on the shore
And see how love and loyalty is dispersed.
Every face tells a different story
Some where there are the ecstasies of joy
And somewhere there is mourning
We lose our homes, some times, in search of some person.
You will have to see the other way for some moments
Your will have to look back to the running time
There are some values which have vanished away
We will have to revive them even at the cost of our lives.
The mirrors of conscience are broken to pieces,
The faces of the people have also changed
Now the pricking of conscience has also died
Gone is the time when man used to repent on his misdeeds.

Part II

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