http://www.myspace.com/zanubiyah

I met Zanubiyah last night in Myspace. She says she has been a long time reader hear, yet fears to join and post, because her views might be considered extreme. I am not familiar with her views, and am only just beginning to read her blogs, but I encouraged her to join and blog, and gave her a link to Nakia in Myspace.

Yahoo News Item

Excerpts:

No genre can be taken for granted. It is the creative artist who makes something acceptable as a genre. Quratul Ain Hyder’s laundry receipt could be creative. Ghalib’s scribbling of a note to leave a message could belong to literature as well. On the other hand, even a novel from a bad writer does not belong in the sphere of literature.

http://khurramsdesk.tripod.com/tarar.htm

Myspace friend, Falstaff, has just written a poem which uses the word ‘khaki’, which reminds me of the popular military uniform color adopted by various armies.

The word "khaki" is a Pashtun word which means "dusty."

Here is an interesting account which I googled just now:

http://homepage.tinet.ie/~odyssey/Quotes/History/Bernard_Lewis.html

"The main reason for our backwardness as compared with the West is the way we treat our women; thereby depriving ourselves of the energies and talents of half the population."

– Nama Kamal, 1868

http://www.mirrorimage.com/iqbal/who/who.html

http://myhero.com/myhero/hero.asp?hero=Iqbal

A "My Hero" video on Iqbal

A Glimpse Into Your Troubled Soul
Soothes my troubled soul.

You think I do not suffer?
Guess again.

But, knowing you, I know
That I am not alone.

You are some photos, and,
A disembodied voice,
Words on a page,
But I shall love you now,
From age to age.

We are kindred, you see,
Which kindles sympathetic flames,
Within this fire of adversity.

A blank page is a portal, or
An emptiness, inviting,
A sail to catch imagination’s winds
And voyage far from where we now despair.
We drift within, to worlds which would make right
The wrong of being mortal.

Our words are bait to catch your eyes,
The chapters, nets to haul in schools
Of darting, silver, inattention
Glancing off unfathomed, sunlit shoals.

Village Voice Article

No Poem Today
No rainbow
Is that to say
Poem is rainbow?

No, for rainbow
Is not poem.
Rainbow is not me
Arched in the sky
For all to see
With a leprechaun promise of gold
And a God’s promise of mercy.

Most days are no poem,
No rainbow days.
With patience
We weather the whether,