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Sameer Mehrab

In the loving memory of uncle Noor Ahmad

Karima called me while on her way to the Pearson airport, Toronto. She was heading to Montreal for the hearing of her asylum case which had been delayed for two years. She told me she had received a call from our younger sister back home that there were unconfirmed reports …

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Here I am

Saddened but not broken Shackled but not hindered   I fell from your blows, Harsh and continuous, I fell but not subdued My gaze still upwards Aspiring for the sun   I heard one of us fell today Darkness consumed another son of light To stop what has been heralded, …

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انسانی تاریخ ءِ سرا گونڈیں چمشانکے

اشی ءِ مزنیں بہرے تاج بلوچ ءَ چہ سمیر محراب ءِ انگریزی نبشتانک ءَ رجانک کُتگ۔ آ کجام بود اِنت کہ ما انسانءَ را چہ اِندگہ سجہیں سہداراں بالاتِر کنت۔ اسلءَ جینَس ہومو بزاں انسانی نسلءِ تہا ہزاراں سال پیسر، بید ء مارا بازیں دگہ انسانی زات ہوار بوتہ۔ انچو …

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I’ll meet you some day

I always believed I’ll meet you some day Like old friends Or former lovers Bumping into one another In strange countries At ordinary cafes Where you were not supposed to go Where you were not supposed to be But somehow, someway Our paths cross And we meet for no apparent …

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Book review: A brief history of humankind

The march of history is long and mysterious in many ways. In the last 150,000 years, our species has evolved much from an ape-like tree-dwelling mammals of genus homo. There are a number of theories about what make us human, or superior to other animals in terms of our impact …

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The day we left

The day we left We left a full moon behind On a pitch-black sky Highlighting the farthest stars and the whole Milky Way and beyond Sprinkled over the wildness of darkness like snow   The day we left We left few more things behind The remains of an old fort …

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Shadows on the wall

When the king is dead When the fire is lit When the skies are bloodshot red The clown will dance A dance of the dead Sowing seeds with as many hands Seeds from which only tomb stones grow     The clown will dance Till the skies are covered in dark …

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The children of Aleppo

  Death is no longer a horror Life is Life which is dragged around the streets of Aleppo Eyes wide open Half dead, half alive Half awake, half asleep   In times when hate is the only desire inhabiting hearts Men find themselves incapable of believing what fellow men are capable …

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The story of Master, Doctor, Shepherd and God

Master’s wife prepared breakfast for him: milk tea and parathas, a crispy oily bread. The smell of burning wood was mixed with the scent of parathas and milk tea, pleasing but at the same time had an annoying choking effect. She never said much but today she seemed to be struggling …

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Prisoners of darkness

In times my cell is darker than a womb but lack the warmth of it. It’s cold – soul-clenching cold.   I look at the vertical scratches on the blood-splattered walls, Reminder of the desperate attempts of my predecessors, To keep the track of days and nights, To confine their …

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