Freedom of expression

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.

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New Year

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.

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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.

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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.

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Life

Tale of a lost quest

 

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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.

Quotes

Sigmund Freud and my dying intellect

Sometimes a moment is enough to extricate the pent up thoughts of a person’s mind. Thoughts―that are somewhat residing in the dormant corner and only need a drive. Same happened when the words of Sigmund Freud invaded the otherwise devastated intellectual state of mine. It added fuel to the my eroding intellect.

However i found them quite relatable.

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Now somehow i had this notion that love enfeebles a person and weakens ones thinking power. The thing is when you know you are being loved then it makes you reckless(which in his words means bold) and contrary to that of one-sided love that cripples oneself and binds one in invisible shackles.

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I couldn’t agree more here. But you can’t simply ignore the person uttering foul words. Many times we give them due attention and ending up self-doubting our-self.

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Human are born like that and there is little one can do about it.

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Only when our struggle is fruitful otherwise it only offers bitterness whenever seen in retrospect.

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Quite true, but the period of this transition―where our weakness becomes our strength is very elusive. Its a period of constant battle within ourselves which ofcoarse not everyone can win.

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The definition of assholes need clarification here.

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Simply love this!!

Life

A Stray Thought

b038e126ffb160af91bcbaf8bf33280fMost of our lives are spent in dreaming. That’s why the moments before the onset of reality are always very exhilarating. We are free to embellish the tapestry of our imagination. Our mind and heart are in unison to produce a landscape in front of our eyes that is charming and very desirable. The more we think the more we are drawn towards it. We go deeper in it and preclude any unwanted outcomes. But when the thing is finally unleashed-snubbing the intuition of ours, we are lost from the moment that we had cherished the most. Then we came to realize that it was just a mirage that punctured your instincts. And then instantly the past become insignificant and future bleak and the only option left is to accept the present.

 

Social Networking

The other side of truth

People usually avoid her because of her don’t-speak-to-me look. She never gives a nod of approval to anyone. She secretly judges others and then brushes an image of them in her mind which never fades off.  Verily she had set not very good records in the realm of friendship. She was not in talking terms with any of her past pals. If anything that distinguishes her from others—it was her sulkiness.6f91610c8fd728dff5e3febf2865628e

She was a mystery box which many gallant lads try to open.  Initially the pursuit did have an element of magnetism but somehow the gallantry wears offs.

Her awkwardness can be traced back to her tormented childhood. She was run-of-the-mill in both her appearance and demeanor. She suffered the pangs of being an average in her early days.  Her past had endowed in her, layers of insecurities which she had failed to tear away.

Today like all the other days she— alone—moseys the cobbled passageways with her signature grumpiness. As she got an early break from her work she decided to do the thing that she loves the most. As she passed, people cast an indifferent look on her and then they move forward.

Accidentally her foot landed on a muddy patch, the dirty water splashes and blotches her dress a bit. People gave half suppressed laugh. Embarrassed she tramped hastily to a quiet place where she always used to sit. She plunged her hand into her pouch and brandished a shining-slim iPhone. She quickly updated her status with a quote,

“Take a deep breathe. It’s just a bad day not a bad life”.

Instantly her status was endowed with dozen of likes and streaming comments. The silent grumpy soul has a bright side to her which—she failed to depict and people failed to discern.

Lesson learnt:

Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.  Oscar Wilde