We now wish to forget pain,
For pain transcends even death, residing in hearts.
Nisar Banbhan, a seasoned poet and writer, based in Karachi, the capital city of Sindh shares his poetry
Hailing from Village Mir Muhammad Banbhan, Taluka Mirwah, District Khapurpur and based in Karachi, the capital of Sindh, Nisar Banbhan is a seasoned professional with nearly 25 years of multifaceted experience, encompassing 3 years in journalism and over two decades of service in a public sector organization. His extensive expertise spans content creation, scriptwriting, screenwriting, lyrics, poetry, and storytelling across multiple languages, including Sindhi, Urdu, and English. Nisar has honed his skills in writing articles, columns, and short stories, contributing to various national and regional media outlets. Additionally, he brings a deep understanding of program development, educational advocacy, and strategic planning, having led initiatives that promote quality education and foster community empowerment. His passion for literature and education merges seamlessly, enabling him to craft impactful narratives that resonate with diverse audiences while driving meaningful change in society.
We Now Wish to Forget Pain!
We Now Wish to Forget Pain!We now wish to forget pain,
For pain transcends even death, residing in hearts.
The pain that lingers not in the heart,
Yet beats just a whisper away,
The pain seen through tearful eyes,
Always yearning to embrace the chest,
We wish to forget this pain!
Had our meetings not turned to ice,
Had our kisses not frozen upon our lips,
Had our words not fluttered away like birds,
This pain would not have been born,
The very pain we now long to forget!
In the anguish of this pain, we remain shackled,
The chains that bind our souls,
We sing our songs still,
Though those like us don’t raise umbrellas in the rain,
We seek spring amidst society’s autumn,
Serving life sentences in our self-imposed punishment.
We bathe our pain in the sacred waters of our eyes,
Thus, a trace of pain lingers in our poetry!
To safeguard love,
We weave the appeals of our souls into verses!
Our pain has multiplied—much like the schemes of rulers.
Is there a heart that can spare a little space!
To take a bit of our pain?
We declare love to be an unmatched weapon,
Yet love is the very beginning and end of pain!
In our verses, waves of this boundless pain surge,
As the eyes of our readers shimmer with rain,
Trembling like flowers in a storm!
Thus, we wish to forget pain!
In this world, the circle of pain gradually tightens,
We once carried this thought onward, but it is not so!
Our lament has become the ticking of time,
A broken link in the chain of suffering,
Now, we wish to forget this pain,
The pain that is our eternal clock!
A crutch in the hands of death!
***
Lift Your Head from the Lap of Fear
Lift Your Head from the Lap of FearIn the still of night, fear falls like dew,
A cold presence spreading its frosty hue.
It slips through empty lands, casting its snare,
Gripping spirit and body with chilling care.
Yet worry not, my friend, for a tale is near—
One woven in courage, untouched by fear.
Fear wears the shroud of night’s black veil,
Its tendrils tightening, fierce and frail.
But in the shadows, do not despair;
With patience, fear’s strength shall thin to air.
Fear will shrink, consumed by its own trace—
So let courage dwell, giving strength its place,
Guiding each step with unwavering might,
As dawn draws close to vanquish night.
The sun will rise, dissolving fear’s claim,
All that it clutched now stripped of blame.
In golden rays, a heavenly light will dawn,
And fear shall vanish, forever withdrawn.
Its cold grip left as memory’s ghost,
As daylight reveals the calm we host.
Fear dissolves, melts into mist,
Gone with the dawn’s first gentle kiss.
So, friend, when fear lays its shadowed net,
Courage is found where strength is set.
Remember, endurance is the truest peace—
In the darkest hours, let bravery increase,
For at first light, fear shall flee,
Its flight a silent victory.
In morning’s warmth, a new life grows,
Even through frost, hope’s promise flows.
Embrace the light, let wounds release,
Forget the dagger that once pierced peace.
Dew may fade, but courage stays,
Undimmed by fear’s fleeting gaze.
So let courage soar, let fear be cast,
Lift your head from its hold at last.
***
We Are Sheep, Bowing Our Heads to Walk the Path
We Are Sheep, Bowing Our Heads to Walk the PathThe sadness of our darkness cannot become the moon,
We’ve bound this knot of doubt too soon,
For half the bread of time
Has been sold to heartless souls
Who traded all their joy to buy,
And wrapped their breath in debt’s cold hold,
For those who laced justice in hardened shoes.
We knew then—
The scales have lost the meaning of truth,
Those we trusted dealt fear instead of waking light,
Selling the shadowed sermons they chanted as right.
Who knows who wishes for us to surrender our hearing,
To angel-faced thieves who leave us fearing?
They’ve never known, these hollowed men,
How pain’s remembrance burns like June’s sun again.
Here, all merchants of sleep are blank and numb,
They claim the night’s voice,
And in daylight, call our defiance a choice.
We’re the tangled souls, trapped deep,
With fire blooming at our hearts’ door for centuries long,
Yet know not to whom we should sell this blaze,
Or to which of those who’ve stripped us bare of grace.
They’ve told us since ancient time:
To take a life is crime’s deepest sign,
Yet they spare not even a blink—
These minds, fallen down stairways of thought,
They thirst for the taste of our voices caught,
Our thirst now only a question left to dry.
With what soil shall we veil our eyes’ modesty,
As this thorn pricks deep and does not flee?
Sun-peddlers have crawled for miles on their knees,
With heads upturned toward heavenly seas—
Yet even closed eyes grant them no glance,
No heed to their desperate stance.
How long will we sheep live in fright,
Bowing our heads to the terror of light?
Name a tradition where the killer is forgiven,
Where wounds flow with blood unhidden!
Whether you remembered me or forgot,
That thought has never entered our lot.
We are blurred shadows, laborers of sleep,
Even our hunger bears the shame of defeat.
Yet there stirs a sense that is slowly awaking—
If the dance of death’s naked flame
Can be gifted as a timeworn claim,
Then let it too become the collar we wear,
For we are sheep, walking with bowed heads laid bare.
***
Those Nights Passed in Solitude
Those Nights Passed in SolitudeYou took your time—
No need to come this summer,
You know I can’t bear the heat,
It crawls like a serpent on my skin,
And stirs restlessness within me.
Perhaps you’ve forgotten,
The sun sinking feels like a weight on my heart,
The darkness of night pulses in my veins—
But it never wins against me.
It says nothing, fights in silence,
As if silence and I share an old kinship.
Every morning, life returns to me anew,
Like a loaned girl, half-hearted,
She’s a sad girl,
And laughter seems only her practiced craft,
While I weave myself in her laughter,
I feel whole in that fleeting spell.
One day, I’ll tell you all this, all that you don’t know,
For I worry—
You shy away from courage, afraid to stand and fight,
Whether storm or sharpened edge be near.
When facing battles, you lag behind,
But in the art of self-defeat, you lead.
“All will be well” is stitched into your thoughts,
Yet, the destination remains unseen.
Some are born with a path, a purpose defined,
For others, “all’s well” is enough.
But for you and me, questions linger.
It will take time,
To understand this sprawling disorder,
Like trying to step off a moving train.
Yes, I never asked you—
Do you know how to work a camera?
There’s so much still to learn,
To capture the tears that never fell,
The laughter that went unheard,
The soft pain of leaves falling,
And the silent sorrow, captured in its quiet frame.
Sometimes I look at my own reflection,
And choose not to smile.
Laughter would pull me away from purpose,
For even not smiling is an effort,
And I’m weary of the effort it takes.
You haven’t left me;
You still have much to lose.
But I want only what’s purely yours,
Where I am absent, fully unknown.
Yet all that remains are those nights—
The ones passed in solitude.
___________________
