From pen to paper: expressing one’s heart out

Mayyda Asif Bajwa is a pharmacist from Punjab University, Lahore, Pakistan. She is a professional article and content writer, and also works as a freelance writer. Plus, she is an editor at universities mag and chief co-ordinator in the university’s bulletin. She also likes to write poems.

Some of her poems are presented here. Hopefully, you will like them.


He gets in a car and claims it as ‘class’

I tread on the road and light on men-all the same

He takes a siesta, unremitting of hot and cold

He asserts though; I live on top relishing all weathers

He is an industrialist asking for labor to work in

I owe nothing still hit upon a job, taking things on

He has money to throw around but nothing to spend on

I work day in and day out, earning enough to fetch my family

He says I can, I will, I have but all in vain

I ask thy Lord and exalted above my expectations

Loaded accounts, worries around and legal processing’s

No passion, no compassion still making him the ‘have ones’

Neither money, nor dilemma

Surrounded by my love ones yet the ‘Have not’s’

all riches and no earning



When together, all we do is laugh

Over silly things, even in serious affairs

Our brains, only if we have, are just the same

Turning fun, twice its dose and sorrows into half

The world we have made is akin to rainbow

With glaring colors of joy and mischief

Troubles, invented or invited is a matter of routine

But with our mutual support, we let it go

Entitling people with alike showiness in our head

Exchanging giggles, sharing gossips that never ends

Walking aimlessly, talking un-necessarily

Planning something and ending up doing instead

For the slightest good we have, considered as a joint success

Telling off the bad habits and falling prey to them

Offering a shoulder to cry on or thrashing when drama extends

A buddy, a soul sister nevertheless the best a friend could possess

cheers to friendship



Yearning for long, to frame up my affection for you

Stuck in confusion, not really knowing how to do

An amalgam of feeling hovers me all around

Being unable to reel off a relation that’s so sound

Care, love and glory are your true eternal name

Although, Hitler of you manages to grab the game

Smile on my face widens as I set out to recall

All bitter sweet fights, we had, at the shopping mall

And the chaos I made on my pimple with dismay

Bothering you all day long, though didn’t work anyway

Still remember your encouragement for the first meal

Turning into noise for later what the kitchen reveals

Blunders, misbehavior and worries are much at my end

Patience, letting go and scolding is how you get to mend

Cherished memories clench my mind but are unable to say

With hidden feelings unsaid words, love you anyway

It’s between me and my lord, whom I thanks and pray to

Wishing health and long life of a darling mother like you

Mother like you


POEM: Once I Wrote a Poem

The unwrapped taking always remained witty

Only, until, I went along the complexity.

Such were the stanzas so wizardry

Willy-nilly, I dived into the intricacy.

To strike up, curtly, I swindled a trick

Scribbling down jingles; making a scrappy pick.

Contriving a compendium with a spicy twist

Out of an amalgam, but refurbished.

I wound up with something nearly as dynamic

Extended to my teacher; passing her the headache.

 She scrutinized, scowled ending into a scream

Scoffing out, who on earth call this a poem.

The air shoaled up with mocking laughter

Writing and presenting were equally a disaster.

Query kept quashing my mind

Was this all out of my daily grind?

 Orbiting around the editor’s desk, left talent covert

Getting it back intact got me hurt.

My venture ended before it actually started

Reaching nowhere, melancholy, I abdicated.

Journey of dread through delirium made me end all

Alas! Nostalgia still makes me re-call.

Mere attempt became a crime

Reminding me:  “Once I wrote a poem”.

once i wrote a poem


POEM: The Blind Side

Moon shadowed by clouds, the stars virtually gone

Barking dogs and buzzing flies, adding life to the scene.

At the corner of the street, inclined by pole, he lay alone

In a city submerged in sleep, as no other person was seen.

Little worn out drape hung over the lean figure

Hands folded tight, close to the chest, with a rippling frame.

Gripped goose-flesh with teeth rattling, through a sudden quiver

Skin tone turning back to blue, as another gust of wind came.

He rose, fell, holding back on his feet managed to rise again

Hoping for a casual meal hobbled to a rusty garbage bin.

With a watering mouth, began dabbling frail hands, but all in vain.

Belly kept growling, saliva drooling owing to disappointment there in.

Shivers seized, the sun gleamed whilst another busy day took on its ride

People absorbed in usual work; cat kept licking him at the blind side.

the blind side



Little could I express…….?

Little could they comprehend?

A clear-cut notion: immaculate in mind,

Yet an idea far more vague to attend

They claimed their vantage point

And I asserted that of mine

Neither they submitted nor I

Beating the bushes, we stood by the borderline.

Wisdom intervened, offering a solution

Half yours, half ours-to get along

Then came in; the uninvited intervention

And the tussle lived long………

the tussle



Spectator’s eyes un-wrapped a budding writer in me

Catching glimpse of a couple of pens in my hand

Encouraging me to write, cheering me by my side

Something I boasted about, but just understand.

Tried reading above and between the lines

Flung myself into books and dictionary

Comprehending little and reaching nowhere

Admitting, it’s not about “to be or not to be”

To orchestrate words into drifting lines is such a beauty

Letting in the arduous fabrication of words out of ABC

words out of abc

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