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Hamza Hassan Sheikh

Hamza Hassan Sheikh

Nationality: Pakistán
Email: hamzaofficial2000@gmail.com


Hamza Hassan Sheikh 

Hamza Hassan Sheikh is a forceful young romantic poet and a novelist from Pakistan. He is famous for his love poems and lyrics of romance.

Hamza was born in D.I.Khan, the city located on the bank of the Indus River. He passed his early childhood in this city. He got his early education from the government school of his hometown. His educational career kept in progress from one institute to another. After his Bachelor, he moved towards Islamabad for higher education. During his stay at the university, he participated in the extra-curricular activities. He was also the editor of the literary journals of school, college and university.

His first collection of poems Some Moments of Love appeared in 2004. The book consisted of 45 short and long poems glittering with different romantic themes. The book was highly appreciated in the literary circles. His book was regarded as the evidence of revivification of romanticism and reinvention of the romantic symbols, imagery, subjectivism, joyous and painful thoughts, unfulfilled desires, pangs, perforations and ecstasy of a lover. Some Moments of Love played a vital role in the literary career and fame of the poet. The book was not only appreciated in Pakistan, but it was highly recommended in India, England, Japan and News Zealand. His poems have also been translated into Arabic, Persian, Urdu and other regional languages. In 2009, his second collection of poems Museum of Reminiscence appeared. In 2010, his debut novel Thirst All Around was published and in 3 years its editions have been published from Pakistan, India and U.S.A. In 2013, his first collection of Short Stories Rolling Gems and a collection of translated poems of Amrita Pritam Splashes of Moonlight appeared.

He is also the author of 3 collections of Short stories for the children and these collections of Urdu short stories published in 2006, 2007 and 2008.



By:: Hamza Hassan Sheikh, Pakistan


My little body is drenched

With my own blood

My head is not with me

My body is shattered too

Now no one is able

To recognize me.


The cruel dyed

His filthy dreams

With my pink blood.


My bag is collected

By a policeman

That was reddish and burnt too.


My colours, my paintings

My ideas, my dreams

All demolished just with a blast.


What about that doctor?

A scientist, an artist

An officer or a socialist

Who dwelled inside me,

For the sake of humanity.


Is there anyone to reply?

My innocent question…




Like a diamond

Glimmered each stone

Among mountains

The vagrant pieces of clouds

Touched my body

And made me to quiver

As your first kiss.


The rustling puffs of air

Whispered in my ears

As your warmth breaths

Charmed me in winter’s nights.


The clouds turned black

Borrowing colours

From antimony of your eyes

Stared at me

As you did with care




In memory of those labourers who burnt alive in Karachi Factory Fire Accident


Hell, hell, hell

Helpless poor! The skeleton of bones

Who drank water extensively

But unable to get food

Trapped in space

Where sky was burning

And land closed its ways.

They ran, went upstairs and then down

They cried, shouted and knocked at doors.

Hell, hell, hell

All around flames

Smoke enclosed them

Fire increased its dose

Now no way to run

No power to cry

The breathes were lessening

They rampaged, maddened and went wild

Catching own throats to inhale

All around were smoke and high flames.

Hell, hell, hell

They felt dizzy, throttled and fell down

Quivered, parched, burnt

Blistered, crackled, roasted

And finally a heap of ashes

Left nothing more

Except smell of human flesh

Few black jaws and a fistful burnt bones.




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