Memory and other Poems

moving. made me sad. i will hold my child closer today.

peace...

Excellent sense of restraint, clean simple language, narratives that move and leap-well done, Fatima!

Please contact me at Saminasha@earthlink.net

............ i hate to admit this and hope temporal is not listening, but i did like this ....... maybe, all poetry is not bad ........

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Fatima:
welcome to chowk!...nice poems...hope you keep contributing here:)

hamidm:
...we knew behind all that false bravado and non-chalant verbiage beats a heart ever so softly...)

here is another one you would understand:

said mrs hamidm
why cannot you be nice
to temporal always

pouring the single malt
‘hah!’ said mr hamid

now you can progress to Easy Answer

Dear Fatima,

Very well written poems. I drifted to another plain altogether. Do keep writing!

Regards,

Dee

memory is a good poem but I think last line need some rephrasing - it makes it confusing whether the mother forgot her pains or her the morning-next pill.

All other poems are excellent.

moving..

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This is all quite wonderful, really. Thank you Fatima.

Fatima: your poetry has soul.

Fatima Husain,

There is something beautiful in your writing.

``Urdu`` is a bit confusing. Loved the rest.

Please submit more of your work on CHOWK.


Ras

PS: CHOWK Editors: Where is Ansari hiding these days?

Nana:
I have same feelings and memories,

my mother often asks me if I remember him and I could only visualize the photos and speak out of them else I dont remember.

But there is a note of confidence when she shares with my brother.

Ras, aamir has stopped submitting on/visiting chowk.

Thank you for the responses. V. heartening :-)

Urstruly, I am delighted you picked up on the ambiguity.

FT Husain.

fatima: it seems that urstruly has unwittingly uncovered the depths of ``memory``. lucky for me though, because i, in all my otherwise cockiness, missed it. i re-read it after following the comments and my empathetic response gave way to a very large, very bright glint-in-the-eye sort of smile. which translates into a greater respect for your skill as a poet. and reminds me that when one finds ones own scars highlighted by anothers pen, one becomes blind to other possibilities of meaning. it is human nature, perhaps, to see the world, even when we see it through anothers eyes, to presume that inevitably everything is all about our single selves. unless thats just me falling into that very trap all over again.