Muhammad Navid Ahmed

Dubai, United Arab Emirates

Muhammad Navid Ahmed was born to Muzaffer Ahmed and Fatima Qudsia on December 19, 1960, in Rawalpindi, Pakistan. Seeing an aptitude for poetry and literature, his parents cultivated his interest in the subjects. Navid (as he is widely known) did his Masters in English literature from Punjab University, Lahore, Pakistan in 1982. He then sat for the Central Superior Services of Pakistan Examination and was selected on merit basis as Assistant Commissioner. But Navid was not happy with the circumstances and preferred to embark on a career of journalism in 1984. After working in "The Muslim" Islamabad and The Nation, Lahore, Navid came to Dubai, United Arab Emirates in 1989 and joined Gulf News newspaper where he is presently working. Navid is married to Sabiha, whom he calls Madeeha, and is the father of two sons and a daughter. Navid’s poetry is inspired by personal experiences in his life and also by the happenings around him. This poet believes that good poetry is a divine gift of God and thanks his Creator and Sustainer for the blessing. His poetry has been published in various magazines and newspapers in Pakistan and the United Arab Emirates. Navid’s favorite English poets are William Shakespeare, John Keats, Thomas Gray, Wordsworth and T.S. Elliott. Among Urdu poets he places Mirza Ghalib, Meer Taqi and Alla'a Iqbal on the top.
Navid’s philosophy in life is based on a quote by Shakespeare:
"I earn that I eat, get that I wear, owe no man hate, envy no man’s happiness, glad of other men’s good, content with my harm."

GEMS

The moments we shared and spent together,
Will they ever return? Never, forever.
Lost forever are those precious gems,
Only my memories will gaze at them.
Yesterday a fact, today a dream,
That’s how it has always been.
Hope you treasure them as well as me,
Don’t drown them in time’s fathomless sea,
The places that you sat and slept,
Seeing them lonely my eyes get wet.
When you came I did not know,
You will leave my heart in such sorrow.

THE UNBOUND

Yes, the days keep passing by,
the traveler meets strangers,
his way moves on....
rest is hard to find,
wayside junctions abound,
no joy for the anguished mind,
always to be found.
Ceaseless struggle going on,
wound feeding upon wound,
dreams, fancies, perceptions, facts ----
a constant, weary roam,
a sadness, unknown
gripping, to be owed.

Smiling face in shanty towns,
People return greetings with frowns;

Passes on:
a tired gallop,
drooping gait, heavy stirrups,
but head held high,
himself hs own, nobody nigh...

Goes the searching soul, unbound.

WISH

Harsh winds bowl,
breezes sigh,
then silence—
Ere the fast approaching storm.
Deep within something grows,
Withers....
to grow again,
Why can’t things remain,
sometimes!