By Amna Ameer
It is night
My daughter says
As she opens the curtains
And stares outside
I ask her
What is it that you're looking at?
She says carefully,
It is night
The lights are on
And the moon is up
She excitedly says
It is a crescent!
I hug her and wonder
When does the same night
Once full of wonder
Becomes an eerie reminder
Like a soul crushing weight
Of something ominous
That would turn bitter
A wrong that cannot be
Turned into the right answer
A long life spent
Seems so frivolous
As if years are just layers
Of deep sense of grief
One upon the other
Loss, hurt, and love
Only coexist together
Yet some nights
It seems
The monster once kept secret
Emerges unannounced
And it pounces upon
Everything and leaves no room
For peace
This anxious whirlwind
Doesn't seem to subside now
The same dialogue I wonder
Takes place between me and my mind
Except I keep pointing
All that has gone wrong
Mistakes, regrets and loss
I can't say it aloud
And may be
It is just this very thing
That eats up all innocence
Inside
By Rumaissa Chouhan
On a walk, I saw a little girl riding a bicycle.
When I was her age...
I heard myself mumble,
Realizing, somewhere deep down,
Where did all the time go?
Wasn’t I just a little girl, too,
Only a few days back?
A few days, or was it several years?
Wait... have I lost count,
Or did I simply stop counting?
Either way,
One thing was certain—
I was afraid of how fast time was passing,
Wanting to hide from reality.
When I catch a glimpse of myself
In the mirror, I feel as if...
Time has flown away.
These eyes have seen springs and winters,
But do they still see them?
They seem like illusions now.
All those memories feel like
A distant mirage,
One that cannot, and will never,
Be revived again.
But does this realization make me sad?
Am I questioning their existence?
No... and I never would.
They are the moments that filled
That little girl’s days and nights.
When I close my eyes, I become her.
I am still her, at least to myself.
Even though the world can’t see her,
She will always be here.
I am now what that girl once dreamed to be—
A woman.
By Mishaal Khan
Indeed, Icarus fell,
Embraced by the haunting sea,
For he loved the sun
A little too passionately.
It mattered to him not,
For deep down he knew
That before he fell,
He flew.
