“I want to guard flowers against animals
I admire beauty and promote love
I want a wholesome peace with no crack
That's why I'm continuously under attack!”


A Glimpse of My Life in 2017

By Habib Sulemani


I tweet:

General Ratko Mladić sentenced to life imprisonment
for genocide, crimes against humanity and violations of laws.
There's a lesson for military officers of the world!

Butcher of Bosnia convicted after a quarter-century.
Global Butchers, General Kayani and General Beg, are still at large!


Oh, the anger at my latest tweet
about General Kayani!
Nextdoor ISI guy slammed his door
in such a way that
my closed door and window shattered
as if breaking down.

The Terrorland had reported ISI threat:

"We're everywhere around Habib Sulemani's house;
it's a minute's job to finish his incarceration...
but we're showing restrained!
Don't consider our silence a weakness!
Stop writing against Pakistan Army
or no-one will find a trace of Habib Sulemani on earth!"

Police, Government of Punjab,
Government of Pakistan and
the military high command seem happy at my condition.
Ain't you, tormentors?


As my time to sleep comes nearer,
I'm curious about ISI psycho war cell's
pretentious strategy and assigned characters
for tonight to drone my sleep...

Once they do it,
for the rest of the night I can't sleep.
They know it
That's why they do it every night
Whatsoever, I'll write!


I was asleep.
A piece of iron hit another
just on the back window of my house
It was like hammering my brain.
My heart almost stopped!

They did it shrilly again!
Oh, need your prayers!

This is a routine of ISI and MI torture-brigades.
They do it until I turn on my room light.


From 10pm to 12am
loud talk outside my house
never let me sleep.

At 1:45am a five-minute honking horn awoke me
At 3:43am a ten-minute firework broke my dream
At 6:30am a five-minute taxi-door slamming almost broke my heart!
At 8am honking horns intensify
At 10am next door bangs
At 10:30am a C-130 appears in the sky

I tried to sleep but couldn't
because there's the fear of of another bang
on the back of my mind which never lets me sleep!

I get up and start editing my new novel.

It's just a glimpse of ISI daily persecution during my ongoing incarceration.
They're professional torturers of ISI
It's a family business.
General Kayani has made terrorism a family business from top to bottom!


A C-130 flew over
hustle-bustle starts
on the left, right and front sides of my house...

I've never used sleeping-pills ever in my life.
Didn't even see them.
But today I asked GR to bring some.
He said:
"Unprescribed drugs not allowed."


slamming doors,
and honking horns continued since 4am
when I went to bed.

Abrupt loud music rocked my room awhile ago!
I went out.
A suspicious four-stroke yellow rickshaw fled away!

A carry-van with RWMC on back appeared
a bearded guy made movie of me!


As I couldn't sleep again
so I worked till 8am
I managed to sleep for two hours
Then next door slamming started
along hysteric coughing of the undercover.
I remained in bed silent
He started loud music
I remained motionless
He made the children cry outside my room
I got up


Till 12am they didn't let me sleep
as a pretentious carpenter job continued in the backhouse.

I just got up when ironrailing of my window was hit
from Javed Awan side
I went down to my brother's room who's still working on his laptop.
"Ignore it," GR advised me, helplessly.


Later on that day
GR left for Gilgit-Baltistan.

Since then I'm alone
ISI goons never let me sleep peacefully even a day.
I ignored it.

Tonight I can't sleep
I feel suffocated
I don't know if ISI poisoned my water!
I felt as if my heart and brain were to stop functioning
plus I couldn't breath easily from 11pm to 1:30am
I called GR in Gilgit, requesting him to reach me!


ISI ordered my neighbors to not let the Gilgiti in Punjab.
How can I go back after 30 years?

I've completed my 30 years in Punjab, Pakistan
First I was a student
Then became a journalist
and under-incarceration since 2010.

From 1992 to 2017
I've visited my place of birth
only in 1999 to attend funeral of my brother
Ajaz, martyred in the Kargil War.

I no more use water from the tank for cooking
The pain in my heart and brain is gone today
My breathing has become normal
and my stomach is also functioning well
Thanks for your prayers everybody on Twitter and Facebook!

Baby Friday

By Habib Sulemani

Opening her eyes for first time my newborn niece tries to make a sense of the terrorized world!

She's no name yet but she'll earn one for herself!

Earning a name in men's world is a big challenge for women but she'll do it! 

She'll bring peace to the world! Welcome, Baby Friday!

World's Gift To Heaven

By Habib Sulemani 

for Baby Abdullah

I wanted to write a poem for you
But there're tears in my eyes
I can't
I can't
Oh, my  goodness!

Usually, I write poems in longhand
But today, my blurred eyes can't see the piece of paper
Whatever I see with hazy eyes is you:
a newborn baby boy who spent only a couple of days
in the warmth of his mother and rest of his fifteen-day life
alone on cold ventilators in the ICU of a hospital!

When I got the news of your birth
I could see you hundreds of miles away
I was happy to see another addition to the new generation
Born in my family during my ongoing incarceration
I was very happy to see you
As happy as a poor village-child on getting a toy!

I'd felicitated your Mama and Papa indirectly
Somehow, I didn't call them personally
I don't know why I delayed my call
I didn't exhibit the telephonic euphoria
Maybe, my poetic laziness delayed it!

And now when you've landed in paradise 
I can't even call your grief-stricken parents
Oh, I can't offer even telephonic-condolences
I don't know what to say to my parents!

I'm a citizen of no country
During these long years of incarceration
My National Identity Card has expired
My cellphone has been blocked
And I've lost my typical oratory power
I'm told the world understands whatever I do write
But I know the language of the world no more!

Still I haven't lost my mimosa-leaflike sensitive heart
My grief on your untimely departure is genuine
My tears are real
I'm not a crocodile on the seashore
I'm a sensitive shepherd from the mountains!

O my dear nephew
When we're mourning your loss on earth
Citizens of the heavens maybe celebrating your arrival in Eden
Your namesake grandfather maybe all smiles
And your great-grandparents maybe dancing on celestial tones
The world lost a beautiful baby, but heaven got a precious gift!

(Rawalpindi, Pakistan. September 15, 2015)

Universal Patriotism

for Pakistani rulers on Independence Day

By Habib Sulemani

My Country is the earth,
a small planet that carries the huge burden of
sinful clergymen, corrupt politicians
and criminal generals, and revolves
around the sun aimlessly!

My State is Asia,
a piece of provincial land engulfed in flames of
ignorance and poverty, but determined
to be a First World society!

My District is Pakistan,
a densely populated area occupied by devils of
corruption and terrorism, but people hope
to get liberty some day!

The monks of tribal patriotism,
who have got a criminal sense of
honor without a slice of dignity, call
me a traitor as they don't know the meaning of
universal patriotism! 

Hatred is what they sell as global traders!

Today is the Independence Day!
Years and years, many years have passed
still only the ruling class is independent!

The country is shamefully dependent!
Don't you see? They've turned into leeches
but what could be the future of a parasite? 

An ode to my love

By Habib Sulemani

I wanna be with you,
          my love!
          But I don’t know
          who are you,
          and where are you!

Being a realist,
          sometimes I doubt your existence!
          It seems nothing
          but a daydream!

Then there is a sudden image of you,
          a pretty one
          as a picture can be!
I don’t know why but
          there is an air of easy assurance that
          I’ll find you someday!

I don’t know why but I'm sure
          I’ll discover you.
          I'm as sure as eggs is eggs!