This weary heart, burdened by those memories,
Can carry on for centuries more,
Nurturing the longing that sustains its fragile hope.
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.
Raindrops of Memories
Do you remember those nights,
When sleep was a distant dream?
Sitting on old wooden chairs
On the rooftop of our home,
We spent countless hours speaking of our firsts—
The first time we met,
The first touch,
The first laughter,
The first gift,
The trembling surprise of a sudden encounter,
And those moments when we wrote our names
In the damp earth and sent them to each other.
We relived the beauty of those memories,
Night after night,
Whispering prayers painted in vibrant hues
Upon each other’s lips,
Longing for one another.
We drowned ourselves in the intoxication of love,
Leaving the nights behind as witnesses,
And spent the days trying to guard
The restlessness they left behind.
Today, that time gnaws at me every moment,
Like a relentless river eroding its banks.
A heavy season of suffocating breaths
Has settled within me, refusing to depart.
Even my own breaths now seem a burden,
And my shadow, my very existence,
Feels like an enemy.
But what can I do?
This body, this soul—
A transient treasure bestowed by the Creator—
Must endure for a while longer,
Though the path ahead is unknown.
Yet, my beloved,
This weary heart, burdened by those memories,
Can carry on for centuries more,
Nurturing the longing that sustains its fragile hope.
***
A Message to Her
I will write her a message.
I will tell her how desolation has settled into my eyes,
How agonizing these moments of waiting have become.
I want to tell her that even now,
I endure the hours meant for her in solitude.
I listen endlessly to the recordings of her voice—
Where she laughs, I laugh too,
But my eyes well up with tears.
I want to tell her
That I no longer have the strength to endure this separation,
That I long for her shoulder,
If only for a few moments of peace.
___________________
