These Days… Before Anything Else
First of all, I hope all Steemers are doing well.
I genuinely pray that everyone reading this is safe, healthy, and strong in their own struggles. As for me, Alhamdulillah, I am fine. Just a little tired maybe… but okay. Managing life one day at a time, like most of us.
Tonight I was sitting quietly near a soft glowing lamp on the balcony. Plants were still, the air was calm, and the silence felt heavy but peaceful. In that moment, these lines by Iftikhar Arif came to my mind.
کہتا نہیں ہے کوئی بھی سچ بات اِن دنوں
اچھّے نہیں ہیں شہر کے حالات اِن دنوں
No one speaks the truth these days,
The condition of the city is not good these days.
احباب کا رَویّہ بھی بدلا ہُوا سا ہے
کچھ تنگ ہوگیا ہے مِرا ہاتھ اِن دنوں
Even friends seem to have changed their behavior,
And my financial situation has become tight these days.
اُلجھا دِیا ہے مُجھ کو غمِ روزگار نے !
مُمکن نہیں ہے تُجھ سے مُلاقات اِن دنوں
The worries of livelihood have deeply entangled me,
Meeting you has become almost impossible these days.
To be honest, this poetry feels less like art and more like reality.
These days, people hesitate to speak openly. Truth feels risky. Conversations feel careful. Everyone seems busy protecting something — reputation, income, emotions, survival.
Even friendships feel slightly different. Not necessarily broken… just distant. Responsibilities grow quietly, and without realizing it, we start meeting less, talking less, feeling less connected.
And the struggle for livelihood — that is the biggest knot of all. Work pressure, financial responsibilities, future worries… they consume energy. You plan to meet someone important, but exhaustion wins. You promise yourself you will make time, but the day disappears.
But sitting under that soft light tonight, I felt something simple.
Life does not always need powerful brightness. Sometimes a small, warm glow is enough to remind us that hope still exists. Even if city conditions are not perfect. Even if times feel heavy.
If we can still reflect… still feel poetry… still ask each other about our well-being — then something inside us is still alive.