In My Ideal World, Flowers In Flames 2nd Edition Poem by Matloob Bokhari

POEM TITLE: IN MY IDEAL WORLD, FLOWERS IN FLAMES 2ND EDITION
POET: MATLOOB BOKHARI
COUNTRY: PAKISTAN

I was in a place
In the heart of a heartless sick society
Where people were fighting for heaven

Where money mattered more than character
Either there was great wealth or great poverty
No writer, no painter, no musician, no poet
To paint colours, love, peace, beauty and hope
No story telling, no peace maker, no dance of Heer Sial
No melody of Sassui Punnhun, no folklore of Sohni Mahiwal
Ugly faces with ugly minds in the cloak of piety
Were sowing seeds of discord and hatred
Idle illiterates were being taught obedience
As an act of faith, disobedience mischief
The only hobby of the wicked devils was giving sermons of hate
Which brought fire, pain and sufferings
No forgiveness, only dance on the killings with joy
Schools resembled prison: No education of feeling
Students minds were being filled with hate
Teachers were blinding learners to their potentials
Making students innately obedient to authority
The curriculum was poisoning learners with skin deep
Hatred towards others, towards others' religions
Objective of curriculum was obedience to authority

No one was smiling: Everyone was worried
Less love; more hate: Less happiness and more sadness
Every where there was conflict
Every place was full of cruelty
Life here was a living hell,
Full of pain, full of sorrows, full of death
The land was in moral crisis
Where poets and philosophers were the most tormented souls
Books reported truth were burnt, research forbidden
Those who wanted to build a fairer society and a more caring world;
The sage who taught universal love;


Those who rebelled against tyrants in obedience to God;
Those rained people with kindness;
Those who preached all mankind are brethren;
They all perished in lifting the poor.

The lovers who sacrificed all in the wild delight
Took refuge in the green woods of pleasure
With music, books, birds and soulmates
Lied on the green grass under trees in breeze


And worshipped with river, bright and free,
Flowing like wine in the meadow
With magical symphonies of waves




I was alone
I was sad
I was angry
I was crying
I was tired of dreaming a place of peace
I was tired of being tired
I wanted to close my eyes and never open again
Meeting my Murshud, I asked 'I also want to leave this place
This place has become hotter than the hottest hell.'
Replying, my Murshud said, ' Don't leave this place!
Your words both true and kind will change the world.




Let's open a school here to teach Peace Education
Unsettle minds of students with critical thinking, curiosity and debate

Teach students love songs of Waris Shah, Bullah Shah
Let our school bell ring loud:
'Dream more, learn more, peace more
Enlighten the minds to invade the self and conquer the universe.
Our students will make the world a better place than we found
We will teach: The war is not just, the war is not good
We will unlock the golden door of fresh air in the minds of our students
Letting the fertile minds grow the plants of love, peace, joy, goodness and tolerance
Our lessons of love will overcome the love of power
And the world will become a place of peace.
Where white clouds will float freely across the blue sky

Where egoless humility will shine a light in the world
Where everyone will lie down in content and ultimate peace of mind
Where Allah will give you what you need out of His unlimited riches