Poetry is honey for the soul
Hammad Rais is a blogger I met "by accident" in the blogosphere. I think we were under the same tutorship of Wordpress, and he came to my rescue because I had not understood something - as usual. Hammad is from Pakistan, Karachi to be more precise. As months have passed, I have met his family, his parents, parents-in-law, his "lovely wife, Jia" (this is how he introduced her to me), their son Uzair who has just started going to his first school - a Montessori school - and whom I consider as an honorary nephew (!!!); we have worked on some posts together, Hammad and I, to make his country known by Westerners; we have exchanged e-mails, re-blogged and tweeted each other's blogs.
Hammad is well known by the Wordpress community. I do invite you warmly to have a look at this blog (of which I give the link at the end of this post). You will discover another way of life and at the same time our same fundamental way(s) of life and values. In times of non-understanding and violent refusal between the West and the East, it is the beginning of a healing process to go, read, comment, exchange with the One who seems on the other side of a breach.
Only to state that we are essentially the same.
Hammad blogs about his life life in Pakistan, photography, memories, poetry... I have chosen one of his last "attempts" as he calls them: he says he is no poet but words sometimes bubble this way and no other!
Hammad is well known by the Wordpress community. I do invite you warmly to have a look at this blog (of which I give the link at the end of this post). You will discover another way of life and at the same time our same fundamental way(s) of life and values. In times of non-understanding and violent refusal between the West and the East, it is the beginning of a healing process to go, read, comment, exchange with the One who seems on the other side of a breach.
Only to state that we are essentially the same.
Hammad blogs about his life life in Pakistan, photography, memories, poetry... I have chosen one of his last "attempts" as he calls them: he says he is no poet but words sometimes bubble this way and no other!
BRICK BY BRICK
We build up our lives too
Just like our homes
There is a kitchen
Where we make dreams and hopes
A living room which is,
Full of happiness and joy, for everyone
Basement is underground
To store up the memories, good and bad, both
Lawn in front
To plant the future of us and our generations
We have washrooms too
To cleanse ourselves from life’s hardships
A Reading room
To learn not only about ourselves but also about the world.
This is a photograph of Hammad's home (light and shades),
also published on his blog.
(All texts and images protected by laws and regulations of copyright)
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