Why is it that you do what you do?
Why do you conduct research conductive?
Would you still do it if you knew?
Tis to one’s self and soul: destructive.
Do not douse in the dark,
For black is not a colour.
Black is the colours’ absence;
No absence could be more duller.
Life is a gift far too precious to be;
Wasted on marijuana and coke.
If you crave, have a cup of tea
But please don’t drink or smoke.
Hear the rain drops pitter patter,
For them there will be no tomorrow,
Don’t fall from grace and shatter
Life is not all grief and sorrow
Amidst the clouds, see the silver lining,
Behold! All storms come to an end.
Then you will see the sun shining.
It is what’s broken that must mend.
This poem I wrote back in June 2014. I was going through a depressive phase back then when I wrote this.
The picture that you see, my father took it. This is was an extemporaneously candid photo he took whilst he was enroute to Murree, a popular hill station in Pakistan- nearer to the North where lie the mountains.