Ayub Khawar (Pakistan)

Ayub Khawar 

Ayub Khawar is one of the most renowned contemporary poets from Pakistan,his family name is Muhammad Ayub Khan. He was born in District Chakwal (Punjab) on 12th October, 1948. He got his early education from the local school. He did his Master Degree in Urdu Literature from Karachi University in 1974. The detail of Ayub Khawar’s contribution to Urdu poetry and production of PTV programs are very long. He worked in PTV as Producer, Director and Playwright of drama serials, series, and long plays. He also produced quiz shows, talk shows, musical shows; reality shows and literature based programs and got retirement in 2005. In reward of his huge contribution he was bestowed several awards like PTV National Awards, Graduate Awards, Bolan Awards, Nigaar Awards, Lux Style Awards. Upon his remarkable services for TV drama industry, in year 2013-2014. He was Awarded “Pride of Performance Award” from the government of Pakistan. Recently, he has been awarded “CROSS OF PEACE 2016” and “STARS OF THE WORLD 2017” by The World Union of Poets. “ICON OF PEACE AWARD 2017” by The World Institute of Peace Nigeria and Naji Naman’s Literary Honour prize 2017 Naji Naman’s Foundation for Gratis Culture (FGC) Lebenon and the award Best Poet Of 2017 by the “International poetry translation and research center CHONGQING China”. Moreover, his poem “A Cry of a Syrian Child “was also acclaimed and nominated by the “Different Truths” and won Editor’s Choice Award For The Peace Anthology. The Last Of 2017 award is, ‘World Laureate in Literature-2017’ awarded by World Nations Writers’ Union, Kazakhstan, on 26th independence anniversary. As a poet his work included Gul-e-Mausam-E-Khizaan (1992 First Edition), Tumhain Janay Ki Jaldi Thi (1998 First Edition), Bohat Kuch Kho Gaya Hai (2009 First Edition), Mohabbat Ki Kitab (2012 First Edition), and Symphony And Other Poems (selected poems translated from Urdu to English 2016)

After retirement from PTV he joined GEO TV as Senior Executive Producer/Director of Soaps, Serials and special projects such as thematic long plays. Moreover, he was selected as a project head to convert the most criticized Islamic Film “THE MESSAGE” from English to Urdu. He revamped, National Anthem of Pakistan amongst more than 40 well known singers for the first time in history of GEO TV. From 2013 to onwards, he has been working as a Project Head of renowned comedy program “Mazaaq Raat”. His professional career led him to work at different PTV Stations throughout Pakistan. Being one of the most innovative producers, he transformed short stories of the very prominent and stalwart epoch making literacy figures of the country into a very potent dramatic format and they were presented on PTV and other channels; consequently his efforts as a producer engendered a very positive trend that the viewers who had disconnected themselves from urdu fiction again inclined to book-reading. Among those whose works were converted into dramatic format and appreciated in the sub-continent, were Ahmed Nadeem Qasmi, Ashfaq Ahmed, Intizar Hussain, Ghulam Abass, Sa’adat Hassan Manto, Bano Qutsia, Khadija Mastoor, Hajira Masroor, Abdullah Hussain and Gulzar (the indian short story writer and famous film director and lyricist)

Along Ayub Khawar’s creativity, he has a unique approach towards writing lyrics for feature films and theme songs for TV drama. Ayub Khawar’s SYMPHONY AND OTHER POEMS is an English version of his poems selected from his books mentioned above. These poems have been translated into English by Muhammad Shanazar: an internationally recognized poet and translator. This creative work of Ayub Khawar will open new doors of recognition for him in English speaking countries of the western world across the globe.


Tears Of Sand
Whirlwinds dance,
Shrouded in sheets of humidity,
They stay in a trance of dance.
Each day the flock of sheep
In hot burning graze lands
Of small thorny trees, and brackish shade
Fall upon each other, to find a reason to breathe.
With dry eyes,
Tanned faces and empty starving stomachs,
Tie burning sand to their feet.
All day long under the skeletons of their hand
With drooping eyes
Far away but a little above, the surface of the desert
They see a congregation of mirages.
Sun, adding heat to the extremity of their thirst slowly coils down.
Drenched in the mud of Sindh,
Dying to sleep with thirsty trembling waves,
Where should these poor go for even when they weep?
Grains of sand fall in place of tears.
-Ayub Khawar (Pakistan)
(All Rights Reserved)
When At Last
When at last,
In that window
The morning spring will open her eyes,
When the bower will blossom,
The flower of fusion will smile,
And colours will undress themselves,
Behind the curtain of dream
When the fragment lips of someone,
Caressing the mirror of my heart,
Who knows?
At what time,
The chain of breeze untie,
Fragrance starts blowing,
Washing the mirror of my soul.
-Ayub Khawar (Pakistan)
(All Rights Reserved)
An Entreaty
O! (1)Rodhali listen,
I have forgotten the art of weeping,
I want to cry over the death of my dearest dream,
And I have forgotten the art of weeping.
You aren’t deficient at weeping,
What else you don’t have in your wallet,
A galaxy of tears,
The magic of sighs soaked in sorrows,
The agile deer of mournful words,
On the lips, and over them,
Wild magic cluttering tones, for crying.
O! Rodhali,
In the bottom of your wallet lies
Wetness of each sorrow.
O! The generous being,
Only a tear,
A sigh,
And the wild magic cluttering tones,
Bestow me beside the cadaver of my dream,
For I have forgotten the art of weeping.
(1)Rodhali: is a professional woman who is hired to weep and make other weep on the death of someone
-Ayub Khawar (Pakistan)
(All Rights Reserved)
Would You Put On Frippery
Would you put on frippery?
Washed from quays of washer men
Who knows it holds
How many kinds of touches in its seams.
And which kind of termite has eaten its hems,
How many dyers might have tinted it,
How many times it has been washed,
Perforated with sieves from several spots,
Each and every thread of which
Dampened with the saliva of alien lips,
Would you put on the frippery!
Saturated with fragrance of several kinds.
When you will put it on,
Do you know
From how many facets,
Touches of termite will awake?
-Ayub Khawar (Pakistan)
(All Rights Reserved)
A Poem Buried In Snow
A snow-covered terrain
Along the square cottage in the middle,
I am sitting in the cottage,
Wrapping a worn-out blanket of the night,
There in a corner is placed,
A reddish brown tray made of clay,
And in it flickers, the lamp appalled.
On the other side,
Wind as hard as stone,
Shrilling through the slits of the door,
And there in another corner,
Pegged deep silence.
Sheathing on, the blanket of the grain-laden wind,
Stares at the flickering glow of lamp
With dull and dreary eyes.
I don’t know,
What sinks down into the flakes of snow.
Whether it’s me or the drabbing flame of the lamp.
-Ayub Khawar (Pakistan)
(All Rights Reserved)

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