A gift to my baby

A gift to my baby

Once in the sultry month of May

In the arms of the angel from the sky

Arrived a little bundle of joy
Seeing her delicate dainty doll

Said her mother overwhelmed as she was

“I name her my little Shanzay girl”
Amazed and excited and little bit shy

His big brother welcomed her like a goodboy
Togather they play togather they cry

Thats how the days went by
From diapers, wipes, cerelac and cuddling toys

To turning twisting and and creating noise

Everthing was like a rollar coaster ride
Amid yawning, beaming and shedding tears

Oh how quickly she turns to one year
Once again its the sultry month of May

And today is her birthday!!
What is the best thing a mother can give

Love care and lots of prayers
Wherever you go whatever you become

“You will always be my apple of the eye”.

Untold fables

Untold fables

20170509_011339When spirits are killed…
You taught me to hate myself.
You made me worst than a beggar – who is earnestly seeking your benevolence in every matter.
You have distanced me from my every relation and made this world an isolation for me.
You have stolen my most coveted possession and made me a living dead.
You have given me grave thoughts and unasnwered questions.
Yes you are a criminal as you killed my spirits.
When a sinner is waiting to be damned…
Sitting in the far end of a dark room, face buried beneath the burden of the sins. The only illuminance that the sinner has allowed is the thin beam of moon falling on his face, making his tears sparkle in the dark and quiet room. Now when he had done to his fullest all the questionable deeds, he still is seeking the soft place from his Master, whom he had long time before annoyed.
When love is not requited…
At last the sight of him soothes her sore eyes. she wants to scream her heart out. She wants to tell him that she has conceded her defeat and has succumbed herself to the voice of her heart. She wants to see his eyes blink with gaiety upon hearing that she was thinking about him last night. She was restless. She was oblivious that she is standing among the crowd full of people.
Every passing moment mounted her anxiety. He seems oblivious of her appearence- rather purposefully. She knows that mere a galance of him on her will seal all the seams of the previous days. But her heart rang alarms when he drifted forward just ignoring her completely. The vibe game that always worked failed her today.
These are simply the moments that happen everyday to anyone at anytime. But we move on considering that this fuss is too innocous to consider, too crappy to behold and an overly ubiquitious phenomena thus profoundly ignored.
And the days that shall seal all the seams of the obscure times-actually never come.
The irony of Valentine’s day in the land of pure

The irony of Valentine’s day in the land of pure

The nation wide ban on valentine’s day is not as ridiculous as the people protesting it. Let us not demean the ban at national level-if its implemented in the wake of useless spending that has commercialize the whole thing . To  harness such the mindless binge spending then ban comes a good step indeed but let us think that way. The money that would have spent in buying a flower or a heart shape balloon is no way going to bring a smile on the face of destitute ones. 

But what actually seems ludarious is the bunch of people who are protesting it. They are embarking themselves to the epitome of hypocrisy. Yes.

Holding a playcard with hacykened phrases, these men are in reality those folks who forgot to bat an eye when a woman passes by. Who objectify them, dishonour them and harrass them. 

But see this is something that acceptable. They can do that but they cant see the two people sitting to gather or sharing flower or eating chocolate.

They are vehemtly displaying to celebrate Haya day instead of v-day but do they have haya in their eyes?

The irony doesnt ends here. The valentine day ban is followed in spirit by those spouses who proclaimed that its against our religion. So they restrictedly ban themselves from saying “love you”to their better halves. But it doesnt matter because its restricted to say this the other 364 days whatsoever. 

Pangs of a dud soul

Pangs of a dud soul

xcFF_EMb

Things went wrong when I realized that my mind and body are not synced.

I was deeply exhilarated about their auspicious union as it will produce the type of results I was yearning for ages. But somehow they choose to remain apart.

“Mind is a terrible thing to waste”.
Yes these piercing words struck in my mind while my sleepless eyes were shut tight. There was a sea of thoughts encircling me slowly. Their grip was getting more profuse and impactful on my mind.I tried to escape these influxes of thoughts, as once I get trapped in their vastness turning back was impossible.

I was waiting for the lady luck to come and rescue me from this labyrinth of apathy.

This was how my life lingers on. Morning, an unwelcome thing illuminates everything except my inner self.

I fathom where things went wrong or perhaps they were wrong from the very beginning its just my dormant conscience didn’t wake up to realize this.

You moan. You curse yourself for the nihilism. Then you move out of the box and search things to put blame on.

First always comes the most loved ones. The more we love the more we expect. Your parents. No matter how old you get on in years your parents are always the number one receiver. Then you blame yourself. Its just like the vicious cycle goes on until a meek sound of consciousness muses ”its you”.

You peeked in past more often, re-live the old self of yours to discern the grey areas. Then an epiphany struck that electrifies your mind.

Your mind is shouting but the body is in invisible shackles. The urge to put an end to this apathy went more earnest and it was like you are going to burst.

But body and mind still are not sync.

Freedom Of Expression: A Farce?

Freedom Of Expression: A Farce?

What follows after my humblest denial to everyone who asks this innocuous question, ”Hey! aren’t you on Facebook?” is overly stupefied faces, condescending judgments and inward mortifying retorts. Which in the end usually place me in the category of “unostentatiously plain Pakistani lass to whom the wonders of facebook haven’t reached yet because of its―mostly stereotypical―patriarchal milieu”.

Some viewed me with pity others with disgust. Some deemed it their moral obligation to inquire after my ignorance in this inordinately knowledgeable world. Others opted for a contemptuous silence as my not-being-on-facebook embark them to a quite superior social hierarchy.

But I never try to defy their false notion. I never uttered a single word to my defense. As for me, doing so is self-humiliating.

Back then circa 2008, when I was resolute in my decision to deactivate my facebook account―as an upshot of publishing humiliating caricatures of our beloved Prophet―people’s opinion was a matter of no consequence for me.

I always shied away from explaining others the rationale behind, as I never wanted to purport that I am gloating over my righteousness because I do not consider myself any better Muslim.

Yeah, it all didn’t make an iota of difference to anyone out there but atleast I called a spade a spade.

Once again the publication of satirical cartoons (under the banner of freedom of expression) by Charlie Hebdo didn’t serve its purpose as it incites rampage all around the world instead of humor. Freedom of expression (as I earlier jotted it down in my comment) has become a hackneyed phrase of  the West that needs to be disposed off. If these satirical cartoons were meant to induce laughter then surely we are living in morally degenerated times, where laughing at the expense of others is the new dictum of the modern world. People love to see others dirty linen being washed in public and controversy seeking media devours on that.

Drawing the blasphemous caricatures of reverted personalities is neither intended to sprout humor nor its freedom of expression, but is another nail in the coffin of world peace. The very peace endeavored by the West under the camouflage of “war on terror”.

Ok, I’m insinuating myself a fundamentalist and a bigoted Muslim but see its all about faith.

Of marriage and happiness

Of marriage and happiness

In retrospect, this year was a kaleidoscope of lessons.

This one year surpassed in teaching me something that my sixteen years of education didn’t teach me. This year fiendishly told me my naivety in the institution of marriage. It tainted my neat and clean theories about life, but I learned some life saving lessons also.

8ec8f8f90af0f49a7d929d0a27f48608

In marriage, silent compromises always hurt. Also one person shouldn’t obsequiously bend so low that the other person start crushing one’s dignity and self respect, which is quintessential of South Asian marriages.

e3ef903996e7f51256e0ef52f32f3590

Everyone started naive in this topsy turvy nuptial journey, but the problem is, people choose to remain naive in their entire life, without realizing its never “I” or “me” in marriage its always “we”.

Marriage is a different to different people. For some its like a fairy tale of happily ever after came true. For some its a total disaster. Others may find it a culmination of the former two.

But at the end of the toiling day I can safely say that marriage isn’t a bitter fruit (strings attached) and i’ll recommend everyone to hop onto this bandwagon of beautiful anomalies.

Apart from marriage, there’s another universal human dilemma.The dilemma of never being happy. A considerable time of this year—from my otherwise ennui  saturated moments—was apportioned to finding the perfect recipe of happiness.

I juxtaposed the two worlds, one—my temporary abode—where there’s always serenity prevailing and popularly known for its opulent lifestyle and the other—my ancestral land—notoriously known for gunshots, blasts, bloodbaths, political turmoil and plethora of other pith issues.

So what exactly make a privileged and unprivileged happy.

Probably one day a scavenger, on finding a stray loaf of bread is more happy than a tycoon dining at his palatial palace. Or may be a gaunt old man feels more happy in solitary trotting around the streets and being called a hipster than a blooming youth brooding sulkily in a corner of an ebullient festivity.

Real happiness secretly craved by me—if not by everyone—would be dying without regrets and openly bracing death.

Happiness like marriage is different to different people. And without our being realizing, years pass away and leave in the wake of our endeavors, a person that we never imagined to be.

9d8db49d08d1f9bfce63e3895eda9803

Tale of a lost quest

Tale of a lost quest

 

3e88280e300c78f9ce8d2ea45771df42

It was a horrible day.

Someone told me something that engraved a filthy mark on my soul. Question marks were floating inside my mind. But a fearful instinct was holding me back. Only one sound keep resonating “you can’t handle the truth”.

Heart injured.

Mind incapacitated.

And body tired.

But arousal of morbid curiosity was hard to overcome. I was fearing I may give in and took plunge onto the heap of bitter truth, residing in someone else jurisdiction. Despite all the preventive instincts I gave in.

And some part of me won and some lost that day.

I won because my apprehensions were true. Indeed I was living in delusion. Truth was falling on my feeble soul like debris fall from a collapsed building. How can anyone can keep you like a substitute. How can someone can treat you like a guinea-pig. But it had happened now.

After plethora of awe-struck movements I recalled I have failed the test called life. Then I entered into the cave of my thoughts. The most desirable place for someone who had lost everything. It was a damage beyond repair-I know somehow.

Just around midnight I, with my scattered piece of soul, headed towards a place once called home. The traffic was scarce on the road. Wind was rushing hard, blowing my hair and flurrying my dress. As if wind was trying to take me back to the consciousness. But it failed like I failed that horrible day. A car struck me and shattered my lump of mass into pieces, whose soul was already absconded.

I died wholly.

Now being in a state of limbo I conclude,that I wasn’t life that I had lost that night, what I lost was all the possibilities, the chances, and the opportunities that might struck me later and that might better my life.