The Saga of a Sage

Another attempt at a ballad.

Old Wise Pukhtun Man, Courtesy of
Old Wise Pukhtun Man, Courtesy of

And the young child pouted,
Brows furrowing,
The candy he desired
Found home
In the hands of a sibling.
Upset with his parent
In a fit of childish temper,
He flung his poor,
Blameless sweet candy
Far away.
It tumbled until,
Lifelessly, it landed
Before the wooden walking stick
Of the humble hunched hoary man.

The child exclaimed,
“Oh, Father! See how bent
And crinkled that man is!”
The naive voice rang
Through the air,
Reaching the bent old man.
He looked up with his trembling head,
The neck too tired
To carry its weight.
He smiled a sad and wise smile,
His tired eyes
Holding wisdom unmatched.

Thus, he relayed,
A saga of a sage,
“Young bud of life,
Once, there was a time
When my limbs were as supple as yours,
My skin as smooth as yours,
My heart as vivo as yours.

“My journey commenced
On meeting the fair maiden,
Called Life.
She enticed me
She invited me
To the wonders she had to offer.
I, curious and learning,
Grabbed at
And readily fell
For her allure.

“She made me love her,
She made me hate her,
She made me regret her,
She made me forget her,
Yet, she kept me
Wanting more of her.

“She made me see
The best of times
She gave me joy
With the loved ones I had
She filled me with expectations
And crushed them, mercilessly.

“She made me wonder
About who she was,
She made me wonder
Why she was,
She made me want to
Call it quits,
But, then,
Made me forget
All my sores,
With every new phase
That blossomed forth.

“Every new blossom
Brought along
A sad longing
For the times gone by.
Every new blossom,
Left behind
Trails on my skin
Of the paths trodden afore.

“But, young child,
The more I creased,
The more I straightened;
The more I ached,
The more I learned.

“My patience grew,
My wisdom bloomed
As my bones
Withered and waned,
And I learned
The value
Of each breathing moment.

“My bent shoulders
Carry a weight in bundles,
Dragged along the lines
Of my wizened face;
The weight of my years,
The weight of my wisdom,
The weight of my saying goodbyes,
The weight of my trove of delights,
The weight of valuing my Life’s ration.

“So value what you get,
Young Spring of Life,
Let not your tomorrows
Beset with
Raw regrets.”

– SKY – Registered & Protected ZLRJ-JXGI-181T-WYYB

© Seemeen Khan Yousufzai and SKY’S REALM, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Seemeen Khan Yousufzai and SKY’S REALM with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.


One Reply to “The Saga of a Sage”

  1. waiy chay”umar me bas dagha wo ,che ter pa dagha rang sholo.
    yo khwahish ke yo, yo arman ke
    pa yo shoq yo intizar ke ,
    yo janoon ke yo latoon ke
    bas pata pase janana.”
    Da dair khaista a woo ao za pay poha shama,
    Khudai dai sta la khpal hunar kay jala darkey


Share Your Thoughts With Me

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s