I was standing in front of his vulnerability
I was so strong yet all I had for him was mercy and pity

There he lay having lost everything that he called his own
He was even losing himself; I made that out from his tone

I looked through his eyes into the depths of his agony
I walked miles inside his gardens of torment
He stared back at me with a desperate gaze
I knew his whole life story in that one moment

I tried to console him, though his lingo wasn’t my own
I knew what he was facing was more than one could endure
I held his hand though I knew wouldn’t ease his pain
Tears filled up my eyes as I could not bear his ordeal no more

I said things will be okay though I knew I lied
I soon realized may be my being here doesn’t mean anything to him
So I took a deep breath and decided to leave
I thought it was past my contemplation; his world was way too dim

After looking into his eyes one last time,
And thinking I can never make him feel fine

I stood up and thought I’d call it a day
Suddenly I felt his hand grip mine as his eyes begged ‘stay’!

By Nadiya Najib


I wrote this poem on a 7 year old boy while volunteering at PIMS hospital Islamabad. His mother and sister had been killed and his arm had just been amputated.

It was a 7.6 magnitude earthquake that took place on 8th October 2005, along with sections of Pakistan, India and Afghanistan. More than 80,000 people perished as a result of the quake, while an estimated 4 million others were left homeless.

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About Nadiya Najib

Hi guys! Subscribe to my blog to know about the drama that I am, my love for Pakistan and planet Jupiter and my general rambling on whats what! ? I have so much to talk about. I'm passionate about Tennis,? truck art, family trees, organizing, traveling, stamp collection, natural remedies, leaf art, social media, cats, blogging, chess and so much more! I'm always exploding with ideas. Come let's socialize. ?

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May was a tiny glimpse of summer & a very busy business month for me - when my digital store had the most sales ever! 🥹and I’m grateful for every bit of it. ☕🌿
I’ve also been feeling a deep pull back into writing… the kind of writing that’s honest, vulnerable, and from the heart. So now, I’m opening paid subscriptions on my Substack. This is where I’ll be sharing:

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Thank you for being here — always.
It means more than you know.
Chand raat ki ronak. Kitty‑bear mehendi. Sahelion k sath dance. 
11 saal puranay joray ko pehennay ki khushi (blue one)
Thandi baarish, garam ghar.
Pakistan se halwa poori.
Bas… aik seedhi simple si Eid.

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