Role Play
Role Play

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I’ve three roles to play:
The first one is of a young man
Who now talks to none.
He doesn’t even ask himself
Why he’s stopped speaking.
In the evening,
He often sits on the beach,
Writing and wiping the word “Life”
On the sand.
The second one is of a child.
For months,
He has been worried,
About his tattered shoes.
He doesn’t like.
His school mates,
Who keep making fun of him.
He should build a sand castle,
And take refuge in there,
But it doesn’t occur to him.
A college student who fancies grammar.
One day, he expresses his love to a girl.
After writing, “I love you”,
He puts a full stop,
And his life comes to a dead end.
For years he has been thinking,
Now he should toss,
All of his punctuated sentences
Into the sea.
People can do nothing,
But shovel the graves,
Of the size of us.
They can’t give us a room
In their hearts.
I haven’t read it anywhere,
But we ought to scribble it;
“We should ask for permission
From the people
Before we fall for them.”
Ever since my amour collapsed,
I write every poem as an adieu —
A worst curse,
We cast upon.
My name is Nasim Khan,
And I’m cowardice.
She’s left me. Yes, she’s left me.
My name is Nasim,
And I feel an acute pain in my chest,
Lettering these words,
In a strange and far away city,
Away from my mom,
Lying on the bed,
Desperately desiring to personate me in my mom,
To kiss her son on the forehead,
And keep patting his head,
Until he falls asleep.
….
(Translated from Urdu by Mustafa Liwal)
****
I’ve three roles to play:
The first one is of a young man
Who now talks to none.
He doesn’t even ask himself
Why he’s stopped speaking.
In the evening,
He often sits on the beach,
Writing and wiping the word “Life”
On the sand.
The second one is of a child.
For months,
He has been worried,
About his tattered shoes.
He doesn’t like.
His school mates,
Who keep making fun of him.
He should build a sand castle,
And take refuge in there,
But it doesn’t occur to him.
A college student who fancies grammar.
One day, he expresses his love to a girl.
After writing, “I love you”,
He puts a full stop,
And his life comes to a dead end.
For years he has been thinking,
Now he should toss,
All of his punctuated sentences
Into the sea.
People can do nothing,
But shovel the graves,
Of the size of us.
They can’t give us a room
In their hearts.
I haven’t read it anywhere,
But we ought to scribble it;
“We should ask for permission
From the people
Before we fall for them.”
Ever since my amour collapsed,
I write every poem as an adieu —
A worst curse,
We cast upon.
My name is Nasim Khan,
And I’m cowardice.
She’s left me. Yes, she’s left me.
My name is Nasim,
And I feel an acute pain in my chest,
Lettering these words,
In a strange and far away city,
Away from my mom,
Lying on the bed,
Desperately desiring to personate me in my mom,
To kiss her son on the forehead,
And keep patting his head,
Until he falls asleep.
….
(Translated from Urdu by Mustafa Liwal)
****
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Authors
Nasim Khan, born on April 10, 1998 in Zhob, Balochistan, Pakistan. He is an MA in Pashto (Gold Medal) and Urdu. He is Pashto, Urdu and English poet and a translator. Nasim Khan has published his books in all three languages, which include three collections of poems in Urdu: “Rangrez” (Colourist), “Copy Paste Love” and “Waiting Room”; Pashto collection of Poems: “Murtid Nazmuna” (Apostate Poems); and English collection of Poems: “The Scent of Sin.”
View all postsMustafa was born on the 04th of July, 1995 in Mohmand tribe bordering Afghanistan. He writes with pen name Mustafa Liwal. He has a master’s in the English Language and Literature. He occasionally writes Pashto poetry, especially Ghazal, but has not had any publications yet. Presently, Liwal lives in London, England, and works as an interpreter and translator with Premium Linguistic Services and Absolute Interpreting and Translations Ltd.
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