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Nostalgia part 2
It is past midnight and I
Sit, scribbling nostalgia’s reply
How far have we come my friend?
From those carefree days with no end
Come take my hand and let us flee
Up the branches of nostalgias tree
Let us be young once again
Let us forget our worries and pain
Let our spirits on those lanes run
Where we had hours of incessant fun
The Sunday stall and books galore
Our passion the old library as we starved for more
A magical place of peace and calm
As we grew up arm in arm
“Motorbike shazi” your poem, yet so real
Our adventures on my steed of steel
Speeding up and down Islamabad’s hills
Remember Cyrano-de-burgerac and such innocent thrills
Errol at concert in the French embassy
My fascination for yet another pretty lassy
Your amusement on my mercurial ways
A restless heart that never failed to amaze
A friend who defined the word stable
We were like characters out of Aesop’s fables
And finally the Pop shop at the cinemas corner
How it molded our taste from “Abba to Foreigner”
The melodies are so fresh in my mind
As I replay them and always find
A tear drop clinging
With my heart silently singing
Carpenters “yesterday once more”
Naveed, happy birthday may you have many more
Ah! so lovely and to think you even redeemed yourself in the eyes of the master poet! Happy memories make our hearts sing. Such friendships should never be forgotten nor bonds of old be duly broken. Both your poems and his Eminence's too touched me deeply. Reading of your going to the old library made me smile as I use to do that too and still love to do so today along with old second hand book shops.
If I don't get my hands dirty then I didn't have a good day. thank you so much for sharing and I enjoyed your critique of my poem. I will read more of yours. sincerely Melissa Lundeen
Dearest friend Shazi,
You write so vividly,
About many a memory,
Is it my letter as you say,
Or some uncontrollable sway,
That makes you re-enter the past?
I and you have seen storms,
Weathered them and often fell,
But what mattered were our forms,
How they waded in every deep well.
And upheld our will against bad norms.
You were quite open about yourself,
I could not do that with my own self,
Though I wanted to tell you how deeply,
I loved a schoolmate called Daphne,
Yet being the introvert so true,
I failed in doing what you would do:
Couldn't share my love for Daphne with you.
However, I know not what the cause was,
Whether I have some inbuilt flaws,
My bond with you was unshakable,
And none, thank God, were able,
To break us apart whatever I was...
And yet time has proved God's decree,
That our friendship is forever free,
Devoid of selfish and base desires,
We burn in the blaze of loyalty's fire.
You have often made me get up and fight,
When I was down and cornered by fate,
And God through you rewrote the date,
When I pulled down a long-closed gate.
You write about Amal and your Nostalgia,
Wishing her well ...well you are your man,
Yet I cannot keep refreshing a phobia...
As you do...even though nothing was great.
Enjoy the life that you now have,
Thank God for what he has made of you,
And think of those who just crave,
For being somewhat quite often like you...
Those poor folks wandering in streets,
And the miserable ones in alleys,
Once great men lost to drugs in slums,
Or pondering their lives in asylums...
You have a wife and a good family,
A mother too who is God's pure mercy,
So, think not often of what you cannot,
Change, for it is a test which God has brought.
Thank you for always being there for me,
And replying to my poem with one of yours,
And May God bless you and those you love,
With Divine Mercy from Him, Above.
Nostalgia is sweet but bitter too,
As Daphne with her love did prove,
She is the one whom I loved and do,
And God-willing, share more about her...
WITH YOU...
Your friend/poet,
Muhammad Naveed Ahmed/Emmenay.