And so I hang here today,
Of hope and safety I do pray.
The faces of my parents in front of my eyes,
All the smiles and all the goodbyes.
They had been so full of hope,
Now at this bar; here, I grope.
Smoky corridors clouded my way,
I wonder what my friends will say.
So I hang by this rod,
Pray for safety; from God.
The interview I had passed,
And appreciation amassed.
My hands burn; it hurts so much,
This hot rod is painful to touch.
I wonder what Ma is doing now,
Going to greet me with a smile, how?
My parents are going to be so proud,
Down there is media and a crowd.
They will save me, I hope they do,
There is a cameraman with his crew.
I hope they don’t air this live,
At least wait for me to arrive.
Aah! My hands are burning up,
Of water I need a cup.
The fire engines aren’t here yet,
I wonder when up they’ll get.
My job is final, that I know,
The appointment letter, to my parents show.
My brothers and sisters happy will be,
Shout and laugh with glee.
Its getting hard to hold on now,
Is it time to take a bow?
If I fall, will I survive?
Will I ever, really revive?
I look to the camera, pass a smile,
Maybe I can still hold on a while.
My hands are burning, hurting, still,
I hope I still have the will.
I’m slipping now, I hope they catch me,
How much will be the doctor’s fee?
And to my death, now I fall?
The firemen, did they even call?
My parents’,my brother’s and sisters’ smiles,
Come again, in front of my eyes.
If I die, Allah forgive me!
Grant them peace and serenity!
Let my family, have their choice of life,
Save them from all kinds of strife.
I seem to be nearing the ground,
I still hope I survive, safe and sound.
A tribute to Owais Baig.