It would be rude of me to not write a direct slog blog about where I am from. Born without a man the man came along was a Luck. That is another story.
Again still cast aside and so different. Family ties that exist. Something of permanence. Link to what the lady writes. https://www.amazon.co.uk/Rehana-Daud/e/B009V1NO5M%3Fref=dbs_a_mng_rwt_scns_share
The above the back of the books written in Urdu the lady also writes in English. Again what a wonderful looking language even if one cant read it. Urdu is the mother tongue. Again not spoken by many let alone by her son. Well very badly spoken by me. The broken British patio I make is easier.
The dear mother cares too much. Spent years defending all that built the empire. Courageously without any thanks from the masters. What is so great about language Urdu is it is a modern language one of the latest languages. Has influences from many languages. Important some say to maintain a language.
The poem above by Rehana Daud my bitts in it Iget /The virtuous path /there is no need for scientists to conquer other planets when one cant conquer the problems on earth/If one is a warrior to safeguard mothers sisters cousins and children/smile is a treatment in itself why light up lamps when one is a lamp/ again poetry is metaphors and simile is simile a smile?
That`s me dear mother and our aunt. Me dear mother with her first motorbike. That is why I have a kinship with bikers throughout the world. Bikers tend not to follow governments and rules unless they are working for the government like police person etc…
The poem above and below where it finishes. Is another conscious one. Like most poets on earth predominately write poems about love. Love of the earth of humanity of the other. The above writes about “religious experts”about the idea of fate the false idea peoples in power wish to maintain that “it is all written” the greedy who sit like “venomous snakes upon the land who live in luxury ” and it kind of ends “we are waiting for the time when those who are not privileged will rise.” Sweet little poem there. Lovely dubbly. Or is it jubbly?
Blood lines real blood lines can be separated and be in other continents and lands. They may not ever reach or meet each other. The riddim the idea the need for truth will find itself. Definitely or defiantly the blood wil find a very subjective truth. The verve of life will be danced to. Continue to dance find your rhythm and maintain your truth.
All our music is on https://babarluck.bandcamp.com/music
we have a shop as wel https://babarluck.com/shop/ not as yet selling socks and pants no doubt soon will be….
#realpeoplelove #uncleronisneverwrong