A tiny presence in the womb,
he listened to her voice
and fell in love
at first hearing.
He heard her and felt her
and tried not to hurt her,
and waited patiently
for nine whole months.
…
His happy days
began and ended
the day he breathed his first,
and his mother breathed her last.
…
The story of his life continued,
first love never forgotten,
second love never known,
third love never owned.
…
Beliefs, hopes and expectations
confused him as everything did,
he yearned and yearned to make ends meet
but never quite succeeded.
His dreams floated
in the river of his Future
where it met his Present
and passed his Past,
like unrequited love.
…
The boy deprived of love,
finally found love
when he stopped looking for it
in humans.
His dreams then ascended
from the river to the sky
and met with reality
colliding with bliss on its way.
…
Thus went the story of his life.
~Moniba.
Ordinary girl's peculiar blog 
You are one amazing writer! (I wanted to comment on the poem’s body but I can’t just find the proper words that it deserves. Extraordinary, yea.)
That means a lot, really:)
And the compliment goes both ways;)
amazing. take care
Your writing is consistently getting better…truly, you are limitless. Keep it up!
Thankyou:)
why didn’t you make it ‘story of her life’?
I didn’t give much thought to it. Why did this strike you odd?
i wondered why wasn’t it a daughter in a mother’s womb. its not odd.
Okay. Well it had to be one of either, right? I didn’t consider the gender.
You should write something.
I shall. you said you’d show some of your urdu writing, remember?
I remember
So
i am on a reading spree these days. i am reading wildly.
Even though my typing speed in urdu is fairly fast because i do a lot of it, it still takes longer than in English. And I find typing urdu in English almost unbearable. Therein lies my problem.
I see, I look forward to it
At your request, the first Urdu post of this blog has been published…