By Novid Shaid, 1997
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All knowledge worth seeking
is like a never-ending dining table
covered with wholesome food.
Some stand gobbling wantonly
Wanting everything at once
While others only nibble
Their taste buds hardly aroused.
Pray let us sit at the table
With attention to manners and grace
Then let us dine with peace and patience
So we can enjoy the full measure of the taste.
Video: Commentary of this poem with Ustadh Mohammed Ali Moazzam from Lahore
By Novid Shaid, 2011
***
For Data Saheb, Ali Al Hujwiri, Qaddus Allahu sirruhu
***
As he strode by blessed Bhatti gate,
The CEO’s pulse quickened with contractions of hate,
for what he deemed a place of superstition and ignorance.
But his mother told him to pass by Daata’s gate,
Weekly visits she instructed, to his growing distaste.
No longer just his mother’s son, but a man of wealth and weight.
Earning millions, with a flourishing global trade.
Founder of his brand, with growing conglomerates.
Still his old mother insisted he pass by Daata’s gate,
As he neared, he heard his mother’s words reverberate
Entreating her son, so loving and affectionate
With these lines she had sung since he was a weeping babe:
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By Novid Shaid, 2011
.
Once there were two neighbours
who were locked in a rivalry,
for one was a would-be Sufi
and the other a would-be Salafi.
By Novid Shaid
.
When Naz and Beena, two drug addicts in love
one day repented, tears flowing like a flood,
that night they both dreamt of soft water flowing,
and heard a voice, far off, it said: “keep coming.”
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