The city br Where I lived the pinnacle of my life br Wandered through the notorious streets br Inhaled smoke of petrol and hashish br Wrote my poems on its walls and gates br Loved the western charm of eastern beauties br Saw misery dancing on weak faces day and night br Witnessed pious bodies at sale on roads each midnight br Laughed at my helplessness when called overqualified br Cried with saints and poets every Thursday night br br The city br Where a man committed suicide br Because he couldn’t feed his child br I lived here and survived br The bomb blasts, wars and disasters br But I died the moment br When one of my city fellows said br “You are not one of us as you were migrated here”br br Dr Kamran Haider Bukharibr br