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.

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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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A case of exploring drafts

A case of exploring drafts

I belong to that part of the world that is quintessence of political turmoil, deplorable law and order conditions, religious fanaticism, ethnic blood baths and plethora of other evils. Being a product of such country I lament and muse over anything relating to my country.Our lives revolve around politics.Living in politically robust society saturated with bipolar ideologies is never easy. Everyone is fighting war of words either in social networking sites or in drawing rooms. As I am assimilated to this culture so deeply that my grumblings are manifestations that how deeply I resent our system and want change.195554808789877979_syTQN4OJ_c

But sometimes the type of change I want is exit myself from this roller coaster atleast for a time being. I am tired of the threadbare discussion running on the idiot box.

So this morning I take a mighty task of opening my Drafts. Perhaps still better than exhausting your mind with empty rhetorics of leaders.

Opening my drafts I realized that my every blog has a reason to be in this destitute corner.

In my first draft I write about my aversion to cooking. The tedious process involved and my inability to mix the right ingredients. But as I was writing ”why I hate cooking” my abomination fades off and I end up liking it—but unfortunately hating the blog.

So the blog takes it’s deserve position and so did my propensity—to cookery.

One dreary night of winter, my mind was brimming with the remembrances of the past. So I decided to write it. I began fervently. I jotted down everything—winter blues and my fears. I solemn to publish it next morning but that morning never come. I procrastinated and finally it also moves in the same way as its predecessor —in drafts.

Somewhere in between I try to publish it but I always shies away from publishing something subjective. Writing about your fear is never easy; it’s like pouring your inner self out and this is something I dreaded. Anyways winters are already on the verge of leaving and I didn’t have winter blues in the same way as I experienced them before. So there isn’t any point of publishing it right now.

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The third occupant of my draft box is a ”Letter to life”. I am not sure I will ever muster the confidence to move it from there.  After writing all about afflictions given by my dear life I felt at ease. I don’t know from where, but i felt my repine feelings are tempering. The surliness is vanishing and so my desire of publishing it.

We all think life is unfair, isn’t this makes life fair—please excuse this threadbare cliché. I scorned myself of being a petulant creature. Als0 considering this a hackneyed phenomena I snubbed this blog to take its rightful place yes to the drafts.

Writing can be therapeutic and my drafts are harbinger of this. Sometimes you don’t need to exhaust vast treasure of self-help books for a solution, because answers lies within us. Merely putting words on the paper is sometimes more appeasing than any clinical solution.

Writing is one of the most solitary activities in the world—Paulo Coelho. Dead on, but for me it is a meditaton, the only thing that never pissed me off.

P.S I am a Pakistani.

Yes!! it is we humans

Yes!! it is we humans

Ever heard an obnoxious monster with filthy body creating havoc everywhere.

Yes always in movies.

How many times we watch similar stuff in which ancient demons unleashed their brutality on humans. Or vampires thriving to infuse their venom in humans. Or a more dramatic one, a drug experiment on animals went wrong, leaving them with supernatural powers and vengeful towards humans. Or a more cliché one, a scientific experiment leaves an otherwise noble man to gigantic evil with regenerative powers, which turns his fury over humans. Or more scientific plot, where some extraterrestrial clans driven with diabolical purpose of subjugating world and building their own hegemony, are crazy to obliterate human race.

Movies told us how very prone we humans and our earth are to these monsters. They incessantly depict that we are in danger from bloodthirsty brutes that are keen to annihilate us. When in actuality it is not some undead fiends that are menacing but it is us.

We humans.

We are the purveyors and we are the receivers.

Every day we heard news of people being killed in suicide bombings, missile firings, drone attacks, targeted attacks et al. All are the acts of barbaric creatures in human camouflage.

Deed of one person is the death of other.

So apparently we have left no room for any monster from celestial world to do further damage.

The killing of innocent civilians in violence in Gaza Strip shows how thirsty our soul is for bloodshed. Soul; which is bereft of any speck of humanity. Surely there is no bloodsucking monster to blame for.

And then it is we humans who voyeur on the sufferings of other human beings. Sometime by sitting as silent spectator and sometimes by uttering cold words punctuated by hateful sentiments.

We know whether it is demon with nasty jaws or werewolf with sharp claws, all are devoid of wisdom and emotions.  But the irony is that drone attacks in Pakistan are not the work of some extraterrestrial clans but by world most civilized nation.

Yes it is we humans. No alien, no vampire no zombies whatsoever.

Surely we need not any Avengers initiative to fight these adversities but we only need a Peace initiative.