The water is haunted
A phantom imperceptible
Is creeping through the atoms
The river Swat it is.
The wailing shadows try to float
The grip is tight
The water is running very fast
From the height
The departed souls overhear
The shadows cursing the water.
Its colour is Green
Not because of lively weeds
Not because of newly seeding
Not because of life itself.
Each one of us is a microcosm with peculiar observations and perceptions. I want my readers to understand the world through my mind.
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2010
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February
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- The Labyrinth of Power Politics
- ايپ پاک : د پښتنو په نظر
- THE NOTION OF RELIGIOSITY IN PASHTUNS
- No Chance ANP!
- Renaming the Province as Pukhtunkhwa
- The Vicious Cycle
- د باران په ارمان
- Tribal Museum vs. Urban Slum
- Anti Americanism
- Media
- The Establishment
- The Problem of FATA
- Media in Pakistan
- The Barbaric Colonial Legacy
- The Survival Rhetoric
- Whenever people talk about the west two ideas come...
- FROM HEIDEGGER
- You took away everything from me.
- Wanton Images
- رڼا
- غزل
- څېره او نوم
- Away from my Shadow
- River Swat
- Pakhtun’s Chaadar
- Curfew
- Revenge
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February
(27)
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