Celebrating Surrey’s Past and Future- Ruab Waraich

Image

A seraphic and pristine allegory in history

Dominated by the mystic aroma of cedars,

With the serene slithering of Fraser in the north

And Serpentine in the south

She has been envied in the past.

Initially guarded by the British

And craved for by the Americans

She flourished.

Bustling with life

And rich with sprinkling of flora and fauna,

Her story began,

Knitted by the Europeans.

Semiahmoo and Kwantlen First Nations

Credited as the first inhabitants,

Through Fleetwood, through Whalley

Within Guildford, within Newton

And through Cloverdale and South

She is felt everywhere.

Nature is her majestic pride,

And through every movement

She strengthens her glide.

Today she is a wonder

Enjoying her joyous ride,

Tomorrow awaits a future

Stronger that the ferocious tide,

She is growing

Adorned as a gorgeous bride,

She is a living dream

Home to innovation and creativity,

Gracefully clearing

The obstacles that pull her back.

What a classic example she is;

Penned down

In the fragrance of history

She is my home, your home

More precisely

She is our home.

And people like to call her

SURREY!

 Note: This poem is written specifically for the city of Surrey in British Columbia, Canada.

Hey listen- Ruab Waraich

I sit here dreaming, thinking

O! I sit here doing nothing

And yet something

What am I wearing today

Let me see

What am I saying?

Shhhhh…

Uncle Whitman, and Eliot will be upset

So don’t ask

Just listen to what I say.

Peeps are dying out there sweetheart

I thought killing another was a sin

Is God really dead?

Or is it mankind dying out slowly?

Who knows?

So I’ll let you think about it

But for now just listen to what I say.

Hey Assad

What up with you?

You think sarin is cool

Well! Thank you for letting us know

That UN is an unstable fool

Have you any idea how many you killed?

Even if you do I don’t care

Because I don’t like you

Hey you, yes you reading this

Did you listen

This badass got the Syrians

We sit and watch helpless

Some world policemen did come out for help

But alas! Since when did realists start making honest liberal yelp.

Are you bored?

Seriously

Boy go start a war then

Come on!

Just listen to what I say

O! what am I wearing today?

Let me see

Ha!

Aesthetic divinity~ruab waraich

Beauty,the eternal essence of aesthetic

diving every moment

into the hearts of the beholder,

grinding every sorrow

into the serene dawn of morrow

From dusk to dawn 

shall time teach us

as to how every moment

so profound,so pure

can mar the disguise 

of the treacherous lament,

perhaps the flowers,the trees,

the birds and the natural

with an innocence so pristine

can ignite the newfangled 

in the atoms of every gene

Peculiarity hits hard

as to how many a gene

fail to engulf 

the aesthetic sense of the serene……..

(P.S.  When it comes to writing about beauty,

I just love John Keats.)

Console~ruab waraich

words hurtThe world seems so not right

when those gruesome words

hit the might

Consoling rays pouring from the sun

with gusty winds

trying to attenuate the human plight

Why O Why are humans so treacherous

making their race 

all the more unfair

O! Holy Providence

pour thy potion of forgiveness

into the souls 

of these humble and yet not so humble creatures

for thine is the might 

that can shake this world

to make it seem so much more right……

(Note: WORDS HURT..)

A Call~ruab waraich

woman_sitting_alone_on_a_bench-t2Basking in the sun

I come to think of a world

that hath violated 

the fluency of my word

The temple as they call it

hath today trembled me

to the core

My heart,my soul 

and I don’t know what more

have given a call;

O! Holy Providence

Lift me in your arms

for I am too weak 

to endure the bludgeonings 

of a world that creeps

My Lord!

Today I feel low

tomorrow perhaps even lower

but the day after

shall only lead to PLAY OVER

Keep my role on stage small 

or give me strength of divine

to devour it all…

Note: a personal memory….Harsh one:(

Who I am~ruab waraich

I am 

an old woman (to her son)

shrunk amid-st the world’s tide

a victim of your wife’s vicious side

crawling upon a memorable ride

Not because I committed any sin

It’s a reward I get

for raising you with much grin….

I am

a young lady (to her husband)

Gliding upon the life’s joyous ride

much like a jewelled bride

Darkened nights force me to hide

Not because I am considered weak

It’s because I want you,my dear

to first climb that high peak

just to make sure

the world does not end up

seeing you as meek…

I am

a little girl (to the world)

Some call me father’s pride

others prefer it to foeticide

still others try to exterminate me 

in the form of genocide

And yet after all this

I hardly complain

not because I am seen

as a weaker gene

BUT

Because someone high up there

did not want you to perish or doom

that is the reason why I flourish

And sometimes give you a jolt

with a high sounding boom

If confusion still persists

sign up to that someone

and He will brief you

with the title of 

“WHO I AM”.

(NOTE:Stop female foeticide and never ever try to underestimate the power of a GIRL…..)

May peace hail upon the BIG WORLD……

P.S.  I am thankful and highly grateful indeed to the women before me who fought for my rights..

Dated:November 28,2012

Lend your hand~ruab waraich

Tears trickle down her cheeks

like glistening diamonds

lowering down the peak

What shall she do

my dear Lord

For indeed she feels

highly suppressed

Solace is the word 

she so desires

For in thy company 

lies the cure

for the oppressed

Give her strength lord

Give her strength

She has yet to go miles

On which lie

thousand prickly thorns……………………..

(In response to the torture and sufferings that women underwent and are going through because of the demonic minds of some people)

LONG LIVE THE SPIRIT OF WOMANHOOD

LONG LIVE THE GIRL-CHILD……..

Dated-May 25,2012