"Whispers from the Grave"
By Afzal Ahamed Malik
My dear sister is no more—yet never gone,
She lives in silence, where the winds mourn long.
Each step I take toward her resting place,
Feels like I’m walking back into her grace.
I visit her grave, beneath the sky so wide,
She calls to me softly, from the other side:
“Brother, where are you? Why so far today?
Are you hurting? Are you lost along the way?”
Her voice echoes deep in my aching soul,
A melody of love that time can’t control.
When I don’t go, the pain swells in my chest,
My mind can’t rest, my heart finds no rest.
The world calls it a grave—but I call it her home,
Where her spirit waits, never truly alone.
I don’t believe she's gone—not truly, not she—
She lives in my prayers, in the roots of this tree.
Each time I visit, my heart feels light,
As if her smile rises with the morning light.
She’s safe, I know, in the arms of her Lord,
But I still miss her—every word, every chord.
Oh sister, my soul will always yearn,
For the laughter and love that won’t return.
But I promise you this, until my last day:
I will come. I will kneel. I will silently pray.
Because love like yours doesn’t fade or sever—
My dear sister, you’re with me… forever.
"قبر سے پکار"
از افضال احمد ملک
وہ مجھ سے کہتی ہے:
"بھائی کہاں ہو؟ آج کیوں نہیں آئے؟کیا تم ٹھیک ہو؟ یا کسی درد میں چھپے ہو؟آؤ، میں تمہارے لیے پریشان ہوں..."
مگر میں وعدہ کرتا ہوں:
میں آؤں گا، دعا دوں گا، آنکھوں میں تیرے لیے آنسو ہوں گے۔