Break ups

‘Breakup’ is the word that has very much become common in our lives. Every other day we get to hear about the breaks up our friends or friends of friends go through. But I think the word ‘break up’ should not be restricted to the people in a relationship, it also applies on those who are friends. Girl-girl, girl-boy or boy-boy, whatever is the case.

Since the day we gain conscious and step out in the world, we start to form our social circle. And inside the bigger social circle there is a smaller circle of people called ‘friends’. These are the people who are important; who you like very much and get absolutely attached to, and grow to love more with each passing day.

But life never remains the same. People change, situations change, scenarios change, behaviors change.

And that change is not always smooth; on the contrary it creates turbulence in many lives.

Break up leads to vows of never seeing each other again. Such decisions are hard to take and even harder to stand by. Also, they are among the saddest decisions of one’s life, from ’someone I know’ to ‘someone I knew’.

Forgetting someone is damn difficult. It takes a hell lot of courage and patience especially, if it’s all because of a stupid misunderstanding. That is the worst form of ending a relation that meant so much to you one time in life. Fight, it’s the best remedy for misunderstanding and never stay quiet. You’d lose all. we all deserve clarification and reassurance. 

Egos, for sure destroy the relations but nothing in this world is more important than your self-respect. Feel the difference.

Don’t let your ego kill what you built with love.

But once you feel that you have been chasing rainbows, decide in yourself that that’s it! You are done and through with this torture. The person who cannot give you a smile now, is highly unlikely to ever share your laughter.

But that won’t be an easy  journey. You will break down many times on your way and call that person, to see if there is any chance of a roundabout, you'd be stepping on your self esteem but I think that’s okay.

When you fall in love with someone, it only shows that how strongly you are capable of loving and how your heart is filled with the treasure of love and you are not stuck up to keep it all inside and not let it shower over people who surround you.

A broken heart takes many comforting words, many sleepless nights, a lot of tear shedding, tight hugs from best friend followed by episodes when u feel strong and when you feel like a complete loser because you care for a person who never cares back.

What is most important in this whole process is ‘faith in you’. One mustn’t loose heart over the fact that he/she is the desperate one, who is unable to let go of a jerk. Rather you are one wonderful person who has an ability to hold on to sinking ships.

Never think that loving a person made you ‘accessible’ or ‘easy’. There is not a single soul in this world that cannot be conquered by love. For when God made us, with all the other ingredients, he mixed a large bowl of love, and he had taken that bowl from his special secret cupboard of rare qualities. This is the only great quality he gave to every single person on planet earth.

And many years later, when the person who had hurt you the most in the world, meets you randomly on a busy street, forgive him/her. Forgive that person for being an ass , forgive him for the times when you counted on him the most and needed his support to get through harsh times. Trust me, it was his/her loss more than it was yours. Because it was he who, so easily, let go of one person who loved him unconditionally, cared for him immensely, prayed for him with every breath and anticipated well for him, no matter where or with whom. He is not worth even a tiny bit of space nor in your heart neither in your thoughts.

One person doesn’t define you. He/she doesn’t know the perfect person that resides in you. Just seeing you superficially couldn’t determine the depth. And if that person didn’t have time to explore you, he has no right in this world to be with you.

All those who want a strong relationship after one shake hand or phone call are desperate themselves, who just want a partner be it anyone. So why give up on yourself for a person who couldn’t even distinguish you from all the people on the street. If you do that, you’d be so wasting yourself because believe me, no one dies single. You get to meet your better half anyway.

There are many people who understand you and would give anything to see the bright smile you give that brightens up the whole room. They are your family.  Always there to support you and hold you when you are ready to kiss the ground.

Even if u do kiss the ground one time, don’t worry, when you stand up you will be much stronger a person, ready to deal with the world.

I AM A DREAMER AND WHEN I WAKE

YOU CAN’T BREAK MY SPIRIT

IT’S MY DREAMS YOU TAKE

AND AS U MOVE ON

REMEMBER ME, REMEMBER US

AND ALL WE USED TO BE

I HAVE SEEN YOU CRY, I HAVE SEEN YOU SMILE

I WATCHED YOU SLEEPING FOR A WHILE

I ‘D BE THE FATHER OF YOUR CHILD

ID SPENT THE LIFETIME WITH YOU

I KNOW YOUR FEARS AND YOU KNOW MINE

WE HAD OUR DOUBT BUT NOW WE ARE FINE

AND I LOVE YOU AND I SWEAR IT’S TRUE

GOODBYE MY LOVER, GOODBYE MY FRIEND….

feel alive!

Stagnant water produces nothing but diseases...
this is what I said to the interviewer yesterday.

today I met one of the very smart people. The sort of a person who'd live near us but never gets noticed . and even if we do notice them we think of them as too different to interact. but i think that's not true . you can never tell what is inside a person's head unless n until you hear him/her speak. being judgemental sucks at times.
 i always believed that people help you open up and every person you meet opens up a world to you.
right now I am looking at beautiful shades of pink, red, orange, green and many more..

 I think I have always looked for the wrong sorts in my life.
I haven't connected with the right kind of people. and am glad I have just done it now.

what is the point of being a pessimist and a whiner?
life is much more than a few problems.

this world is such a beautiful place. ALLAH has created a wonder land but its such a shame that we have been bound and restricted. not having the liberty to travel across the borders and see things, feel things, perceive them, analyse and judge them and then make opinions.

m feeling bad about being stuck in a place more than ever.

I don't want to be stagnant in life and I want to thrive and shine. i don't want to let hurdle become blockages.
i don't want to accept the fact that i was born in a developing country with less opportunities for a common man. i want to change it.
and i will.

and if i cant do that, I'd die with regrets in my heart.
I'd waste my life, my talent and myself else.

and since i always dream big and aim high so i think someday i will achieve what i want.
and i am writing this at this hour as a proof that , yes i did dream about my future.

probably then i will look back and pat myself on shoulder :)

i am even smiling now, imagining all sorts of poses i'd make in front of the camera and the kind of dresses i will wear... LOL!!

so all of you out there.. no matter where you are living right now.. dream of a far away land with majestic architecture, rich culture, delicious food, soothing music, awesome beaches, exotic wildlife and whatever you can think of...

and if you don't achieve this dream, make sure you ease the path for others so that they can achieve their dreams through you and may be then you can live your dream too.. indirectly!

its all about you and its all about believing in yourself...

GOOD LUCK!

Stories from my mind, heart and soul!: How I see it!

Stories from my mind, heart and soul!: How I see it!:   The most difficult profession in the world is of a writer. The hardest thing in life is to write about love. People think that its very ...

How I see it!

 The most difficult profession in the world is of a writer. The hardest thing in life is to write about love. People think that its very easy for the writers to create characters and a situation, let them meet and make them fall in love and then swirl the story round and TADA… and they live happily after all.

Well sorry to burst the bubble but its just the opposite. Writers are just as much humans as the readers. They go through the hardships of life and also get to face the worst situations which many of the audiences can’t even imagine. So thinking that we live on cloud number 9 is bullshit. People expect us to create wonders neglecting the fact that we are not supernatural.

But what makes us different is the ability to hold ourselves together even when we are hit pretty hard. We just hold the ground and don’t let go. We also get broken hearts and shattered confidence but we just pull ourselves back.

We lose people and we get betrayed too but we owe the strength to our skill. So instead of crying ourselves to death, we wipe our tears and create something positive which seems to be the hardest thing at the moment but we know that we have to use our pen power to give something to the people out there in the world who are waiting to lean on someone’s words.  

So we write… about love, hope, happiness, a smile, twinkling stars and dreams. About colors and rainbows, autumn sceneries and spring sprouts. When in real we have just lost the love of our life and are experiencing pangs of pain.

No one sees beyond the words.  No one reads between the lines. We suffer with our characters but we let them live on when in real,we are dying of the same tragedy. we do this because we feel the responsibility of hundreds of dreams that a reader might have associated with a particular character.

We know that no court in the world is going to charge us for death sentence if we let the hero die or never let the lovers meet. But we never do the obvious logical bad endings.

Ever wondered about the magical ending of the movies and novels? Whatever may be the calamity, everything gets well in the end.

You know why writers make such a fool of themselves by giving happy endings to every single novel? Because we are here to ease the pains and difficulties of the most trodden road of life.

Honestly sometimes I want to write about the actual life. The way it is. Where nothing goes right but no, m not allowed.

I am not allowed to use my skill to upset people who read my words. I am not allowed by my heart. Which is broken and bleeding itself but still cares about others.

And I also know that people take inspirations. We do too. So no one has a right to shut the door of hope on some one’s face.

So, don’t disregard the LOVE STORIES you are so tired of hearing and reading.

Most of the time they are written in blood.

If you are a girl, Be a Disney princess and dream about prince charming.
If you are a boy, then be that prince charming.
Anticipate well for yourself.

Let others work inspire you because inspiration brings out the hidden world in your. The true you needs uncovering and only you can do it for yourslef, noone else.  Do that and use every single mean available.

Don’t give up on yourself. No matter how typical it is for a girl to like pink color , if you love pink be loud and clear about it.

Life is too short to create problems… For yourself and for others.

It’s even shorter to love others. Don’t waste your time today on things that you will regret tomorrow. Your heart always tells the truth. The tiny miny little voice that we often neglect is actual the inner bell that shows the right path. Hear for it and follow the direction. You’ll end up in heaven.

 Take care of yourself and don’t let others distort  you. Don’t go searching for your type from one person to another. Be sacred in yourself and you will attract your better half like a magnet.

Some dreams are your personal. Don’t rely on others to fulfill your dreams for you.

Stand up for yourself, that’s when others will get to know what’s in your head!

Respect everyone because everyone deserves it.

Be honest with people; don’t lead them into false believing by not being staright and fair to them.

Don’t break hearts.

And in the end …

 Love to the fullest and don’t hold yourself back … ever! May be this time is the last time you are getting a chance to speak…

Adios.

Stories from my mind, heart and soul!: Vasl e Yaar ...

Stories from my mind, heart and soul!: Vasl e Yaar ...: Is qadar pyar se ae jaan e Jahan Dil k rukhsar pe rakha hai, iss waqt teri yad ne hath Teri yaad… ne hath… us ne bohat malaimat se ...

Vasl e Yaar ...

Is qadar pyar se ae jaan e Jahan

Dil k rukhsar pe rakha hai, iss waqt teri yad ne hath

Teri yaad… ne hath… us ne bohat malaimat se hath apne gall pe rakha..aur ik dheemi si muskurat ne us k laboon ka ahata ker lia…

Yun gumaan hota hai garche hai abhi subhe firaq,

 dhal bhi gaya hijr ka din Aa b gai vasl ki raat..

Lambe silky balloon se khailte huwe who iss dunia se bohat durr thi. Who khuwab k safar men thi.

Jahan who sikandar ka hath pakre kharri thi, Jahan sari dunia us k qadmoon men thi aur Jahan un dono k darmiyan men koi fasla nhi tha.

Islamabad men apne kamre ki khirki se who oonche baraf posh paharoon ko dekhti rehti aur sochti k kia maloom sikandar ka thikana kon c chooti per ho ga. Najane siachin in sab men se konsa pahar hai…

Who mohabbat se un paharoon ko dekhti, k shyd us ki nazar ki hidaat us shaks tak pohanch jaye jis k dam se  uska Jahan abad hai.

‘Sikandar ko bohat sardi lagti hai,’ who aksar sochti ‘ pata nhi kaise itni baraf men rehta ho ga’

Yehi baatien jab us ne iss dafa sikandar ki chutti men usey coffee bana k dete huwe kahien to who hans para.

‘hum wahan bohat garam kapre pehente hain na aur igloo men rehte hain.. sardi ka to pata b nhi chalta’

Sikandar k dilase se thora to dil ko itmenan huwa per yakdam hi us ne mashkook nighahon se sikandar ko dekha, per sikandar kuch na bola.

Who coffee le k terrace per challi ai. Raat, chandni, tarron bhara asman aur sikandar.. bus yehi chae tha usey apni zindagi mien.

‘SIKANDAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR…. Plzzz upper aoo’

Us k yun badtameexi se chilane pe sikandar hameesha ki tarhan chirr gaya tha,  magar phir bhi upper aa gaya.

Terarce pe sath sath khare hone k bawajod sikandar usey ignore kr raha tha. Yeh us k ghuse ka izhar tha.

‘sikandar’ us ne holey se pukara. Koi jawab nhi..

Us ne halki c kohni mari.. no lift

‘mujhe attitude dikha ra hai’ woh ik dam se us k samne aa k kahri ho gai. mug railing pe aur dono hath qamar per rakh k boli ‘ oye sukki, mujhe attitude dikha rahe ho?’

‘nhi’ mukhtasir jawab

‘phir bol q nhi rahe’

‘tum ne q itna shor kia? Sab ko awaz gai ho g.. log kia sochien gey k captain sikandar ki bivi mien aur masjid k loud speaker men koi farq hi nhi ha’ who khafa khafa sa bola.

Qasoor dono ka nhi tha.. sikandar bohat polite aur soft spoken tha aur who.. who tez, buland awaz, buland khayal, shokh, rangeen, mast..

‘farq hai na sikandar’who masoomiat se boli

‘kia?’ be ikhtiyar hi sikandar ne poocha.

‘loud speaker tumse itna pyar nhi kerta ‘ who shararat se hansi aur sikandar k chehre per b muskurahat aa gai..

‘sikandar’ yak dam hi us ka lehja khuwab sa ho gaya..

‘hmm..’ sikandar ne apne bazoo us k kandhe pe rakh k use qareeb ker lia.

‘tumara dimple itna pyara hai, mera dil chata hai k men us men chup k baith jaun.. aur bus kabhi na nikloon bahir’

‘:D :D :D mere bulane pe b nhi?’

‘ nah.. haan tum bulao gey to jawab doon g.. baqi koi bulaye ga to pretend karoon g jaise men hun hi nhi ‘ woh naak charha k boli yun jaise sikandar per koi ehsan hoga .

Yunhi layani baton k darmian raat qatra qatra bheegti rahi..

Who dono jante they k maheenoon ki judai k baad yeh waqt aya hai aur ab najane dobara kitna waqt lagey ga un ko yun baith k baten kerne k liye..

Who agli subha wapis siachin ja raha tha..

‘aj poore 5 din ho gaye hain ussey gaye huwe’ ungliun pe hisab lagate huwe us ne socha. Halanke aj subha hi sikandar se baat hoi thi. Mukhtasir aur bharpoor…

Us ka din bilkul mamool k mutabiq tha. likin dil men ajeeb si bechaini thi.

Barf se dhakee paharoon ko dekhte huwe, ussey pehli baar khauf sa aney laga.. un paharoon ki oonchai se, jalal se, shaan se, karakhtagi se..

‘sikandar mene K2 jana hai.. mene suna hai wahan suraj ki pehli kiran k sath parian utarti hain.. sunehri pariyan,,’

Apne balloon ko kangi kerte huwe us ne sheeshe men sikandar ko dekha jo bohat inhimak se TV pe najane kia dekh ra tha . us ki baat per TV se nazrien hataien aur us ko dekh k bola

'aaisa kch nhi hota.. beekar batien hain.. its a dead world’

‘KIA?’ who yun shocked hoi jaise sikandar ne abhi abhi yeh keh dia ho k who asli sikandar nhi hai. Phr ik dam hi narazgi se sikandar ki janib dekha aur kaha ‘ huh,tumien kia pata.. faujiun ko nhi nazzar ateen’

‘hmmm shyd.. mene b suna hai k pariun ko hi parian nazar ati hain’

us waqt woh sikandar se itni naraz thi k us k jumle per ghaur hi nhi kia..

aur abhi abhi us laga, jaise in buland paharoon per waqaii kabhi pariaan nhi utarti hoon g balke yaqeenan un kale paharoon men jinnat ka baseera ho ga..

Us ka dil achanak seham gaya.. dharkanoon ki taal kissi anhoni ka pata dey rahi ho jaise…

Who Be maqsad ghar men ik se dosre kamre ka chakkar laga rahi thi…ik dam sare kam khatam ho gaye. Yun jaise us ab baki sari xindagi us k kerne ka koi kam na ho ga…

Jaise sab kuch ker chuki thi who.. aur mazeed kuch nhi bacha tha..

Iron stand k pass sikandar ki light blue shirt rakhi thi.. who shirt istari krne lagi… pata nhi yeh shirt yahan kiun rakhi thi unpressed. Sikandar hameesha se apne kapre khud press kerta tha. who kerna chati phir bhi nhi kerne deta tha.

Khoob jama jama k aur dil laga k who apne kapre press kerta tha. ik shikan b na ho .. aur who itni tawaju se ussey kapre press kerta dekhti to jal k reh jata…

‘sikandar jaldi karo na’ … ‘jaldi na’.. ‘bus na ho gai hai’.. ‘sikannnnndddddddddddaaaarrrr’

Ik ik minute k waqfey se who sikandar k daaen baaen aa key narrey lagati… aur sikandar jhunjhula jata

‘kitni besabri ho tum.. itna sa sabar b nhi hai tum mien’

Phr who shararat se us k hair style ko bigaar deti aur hans k kehti ‘itni attention ik shirt ko mile g to men jealous hoon g na’

5 din  , sikandar k jane k baad se us ne ik dafa b apni diary nhi likhi thi.. sikandar ko hameesha tajasus rehta tha k who kia likhti hai likin who bohat hifazat se apni diary lock men rakhti thi aur chabbi apne room mien rakhe money plant k gamle k neeche… sikandar se chuppa k…

Diary ka khayal atey hi us ne istari band ki , pressed shirt hang ker k kamre ki taraf qadam barhaye.. adhe raste men pohanchi k phone ki ghanti bajhne lagi. Us ne phone uthaya .. abu ka phone tha lahore se..

‘abu… assalam o alikum kaise hain ap.. men akeli thi.. shukar ha ap ne phone ker lia’ who chehki

‘wasalam , m fine beta. Ap kaisi hain..? beta apki sikandar se baat hoi?’

‘men theek thak.. ji abu meri subbha hi baat hoi hai.. theek they keh rahe they k next post per ja k phone karien gey’

‘achaa.. beta mien Islamabad aa raha hun.. pehli flight se’

‘kiun abu? Khairiyat to hai na?’

‘’jii beta.. men aa k apse baat karoonga’

‘Chalien theek hai.. acha hai aa jien.. men akeli hun..phir men Lahore hi chaloon g ap k sath ‘

‘sure .. apna khayal rakhna, ALLAH hafiz’

‘Khuda hafiz’

Us ne gharrii dekhi to raat 9 bajjh rahe they. Abi who andar janey k liye palti hi thi k phone ki bell ik dafa phir baji.

‘ Hello, mrs sikandar?’

‘yes’

‘bhabi men Tariq baat ker rha hun’ tariq sikandar ka college k zamane se best friend tha.

‘je je tariq bhai kaise hain ap?’

‘ I am fine. Bhabi I am afraid there is a bad news,’

‘kahiriyat bhai?’

‘bhai sikandar ki party .. bhabi actually, the team met an accident. An avalanche’

‘ji?’ us ko tariq ki awaz aa rahi thi, samajh b aa rahi thi per kuch aaisa tha k us ka zehen bilkul blank tha.

‘bhabi I am so sorry, likin abhi rescue operation jarri hai. INSHA ALLAH achi khabar miley g. bhabi please ap hosla karien’

Use tariq ki awaz ab b aa rahi thi magar ab usey kuch samajh nhi aa rahi thi. Yun jaise who koi aur zaban bol ra ho. Us ne receiver cradle per rakh dia..

Ussey samajh hi nhi aa rahi thi k ab uusey kia kerna chae. Har ehsas mar gaya tha. use laga who koi khuwab dekh rahi hai aur abhi us ki ankh khul jaye g…

Aaisa nhi ho sakta. Ofcourse yeh sab mazaq hai. Sikandar ka koi practical joke. Ussey pata hai k men apne rishtoon k bare men kitni touchy hoon..

Abhi phone aye ga, men keh doon g k aaise mazaq mujhe bilkul nhi pasand.

Woh uth k kamre men aa gai. Gamle k neeche se chabbi nikal k us ne tala khola aur apni diary nikali. Usey ab sikandar per ghussey anay laga tha. yeh koi tareeqa hai. Tariq bhai ko involve kerne ki kia xaroorat thi. Bahir phone ki bell ho rahi thi. Per us ne koi dhehan na dia.  Sikandar ka ho ga, acha hai use b pata challey…

Us ne apni diary kholi…

Ik tissue paper rakha tha.. per ussey yaad nhi aa ra tha k us ne kab yeh yahan rakha tha…

Tissue ik kaghaz k upper lipta tha.

Us ne be yaqeeni se dono cheezun ko dekha.

Kaghaz kholte hi us ne sikandar ki khobsurat hand writing dekkhhi

‘yeh tissue tumare liye hai. Iss se apne ansoo saaf ker lena :D

Kitna rooti ho na tum.. rotlu.. tumare ansoon se to dam bhar jaye.. chalo kam az kam pani ka masla to hal ho ga na..

Dekho dekho ab ghusse se red ho gai ho… kitne rang hain na tumare pass..

Suno, jab men wapis aun ga na to yeh sare rang le loon ga tumse.. aur apne hathoon per sajaoon ga… tumari ankhoon ka sunehri rang, palkoon ka kala, gallon ka gulabi aur hoonthun ka sharbati… sab k sab…

Roya mat karo, mujhe acha nhi lagta..

Mujahid ki bivi ho.. apne andar hosla aur sabar paida karo.

Zindagi men agar men na raha to koi itne nakhre nhi uthaye ga :P

Apna khayal rakhna

I’ll miss you

Urs sikandar

Who beyaqeeni se us khat ko dekh rahi thi… sikandar janta tha, who diary ki chabbi kahan rakhti hai.. pata nhi us ne kabhi who kholi b ho g.. Jahan jaga jaga us ka naam likha tha… ‘sikandar’

Ansoo mootiun ki soorat us ki ankhoon se gir rahe they.. ussey betarhan sikandar yaad aaney laga ..kahan ho ga who..

Barf ki qabar men,…

Yakdam zorr se hawaien chalne laggi aur mote mote barish k qatre zameen ko seerab kerne lagi.. useey laga asmaan b us k gham men roo raha hai.. us ki bebasi pe, akelepan pe.. sikandar aur us k khuwaboon pe, us ki beinteha mohabbat per aur un sare gulaboon per jo sikandar us k liye lata tha..aur lata rehta agar zinda rehta to…

iss baat per k ab chahe jitni b barish ho jaye, us ka mann sehraab nhi ho ga kabhi..

Rootey rootey us ne sar utha k apni shadi ki tasweer ko dekha… ghere surkh lehenge men who sharmai sharmai si sikandar k pehlo men khari bilkul kanch ki guria lag rahi thi aur sikandar.. off white sherwani mien us k personality mazeed bawaqar lag rahi thi. Halki si muskurahat k bawajood us ka dimple wazeh ho raha tha..

Tasweer ka manzar xinda ho k us k samne aa gaya.. jab who parlor se studio pohanchi photoshoot k liye to garri ka darwaza sikandar ne khola.

Sikandar pe nazar perte hi kaise us ka dil dhak se reh gaya tha aur hatheelian bheeg gai theen… us ki confusion per sikandar khul k hansa tha. aur maxeed confuse hote huwe us ne sikandar ko kitne alqabaat se nawaza tha..

Aur phir poore photoshoot k doran who confused hi rahi.aur sikandar ne us ki confusion ko jitna enjoy kia tha , us ka para utna high ho raha tha. upper se photographer ki athkhailian dekh k maxxed us ka ghusse se bura haal ho ra tha.

‘ap madam please sir k shoulder per hath rakhien aur side per dekhien aur sir ap please zara aaise pose karien jaise ap madam se kuch keh rahe hain’ photographer ki chehekti hoi awaz pe us ne saari sharam ko bhool k ghuse se upper dekha.

 ‘What? Men aaisa koi pose nhi bana rahi. Ap please zara decent photshoot karien’  us ne khafgi se sikandar ki taraf dekh k kaha.

‘madam please, yeh pictures yadgaar hon g. sir ap please madam ko manien’ photographer kuch xiada hi professional tha shyd.

‘aa jien maa’am.. let me be honoured please’ sikandar ne araam se ussey kaha. Chair se apna lehenga sambhalti who uthi to sikandar ne araam se us ka hath tham lia. Photographer ki manhos shakal zeher lag rahi thi.

Sikandar thora sa us k chehre ki janib jhuka tha..

“mien kirnoon ki kaliyan chun ker saij bana loon ga

Tum mukhre ka chand jalao, raat roshan karo”

Bijli iss qadar zor se karkii k ik lamhe ko har cheez roshni men naha gai likkin chand lamhoon baad jiss zor se badal garjey, us ki adhi rroh fana kerne ko kaffi they…

Hameesha se uss badaloon ki garaj se dar lagta tha. bachpan se le k shadi se pehle tak who hameesha barsaat men ami ki god men chup jati thi. Aur jab university men aii to barish shuru hote hi abu ussey leene aa jate they..

‘mujhe pata hota hai k meri beti darr rahi ho g… men us k pass hona chata hun us lamhe se pehle jab who khud ko akela samjhe’

‘Baba please jaldi aien…’ who tarap tarap k roo rahi thi.. andhere men us ka dam ghutt raha tha. ‘ajj meri xindagi ki sab se bhiyanak raat hai aur men kitni akeli hun.. ’

Apne kamre mien ussi halat men baithey najane kitna waqt guxra tha.. ghantii ki taiz awaz pe us ne darr k sar uthaya… ab musalsal doorbell baj rahi rhi … ‘Abu’ ik siski us k laboon se azzad hoi.. bhagte huwe who gate ki taraf gai, slippers k baghair nangey paoon.. barish ab b zoroon pe thi, gate tak pohanchte pohanchte wh mukamal bheeg chuki thi. Bina pooche us ne gate khol dia.

Abu ko dekhte hi us ka raha saha hosla b toot gaya. Abu k galley lag k who betahasha roo rahi rhi..

Abu us ko tham k pyar se andar laye.. musalsal us k baal sehlate huwe abu us ko dunia Jahan ki tasallian de rahe they..

‘na roo mera beta.. sab theek ho ga’

Per who janti thi… us k dil ne us ko bata dia tha k koi rescue operation sikandar ko us k pass nhi la sakta.. sikandar has moved on..

Aur phr agle kai din tak roz who rescue operation ki khabrien sunti rahi. Sikandar k waledain Saudi Arabia se aa gaye they. Ussey khoob dhair sara pyar kia. Who un k bête ki dhulhan thi. 7 mah ki dhulhan.

Packing kerte huwe who har ik minute k baad roti rahi.. har cheex se itni yaadien wabasta then k ansoo na bahana namumkin tha. sab se akhir men us ne sikandar ka personal drawer khola. Iss drawer ki chabbi hameesha se ussi k pass thi magar us ne kabhi khola nhi tha. who janti thi k sikandar ki personal cheexien then us men. Drawer mien hasb e tawaqu kaghzaat they, kuch tasweerien, dostoon k khat aur sab se akhir men ik  diary…

us ne sari cheexien nikal leen. Diary ko khol k dekha to har date k sath entries then. Us ko hairat hoi kiun k us ne kabhi sikandar ko diary likhte huwe nhi dekha tha..

pehli entry un ki shadi k din ki thi… ‘ajj who meri hai.. finally’ aur phir apna aur us ka naam .. ik sath..!

ik bhegi woi muskarat us k laboon pe aa gai..

aur phir ik k baad ik entry.. us k bare men.. us ki batien, us ki shararatien, jumle, kaproon ka rang aur us ki chooriun ki tareefien.. us ki zidd aur us ki jhagre..

yeh talkh talk sa lehja, yeh taiz taiz c baat

mizaj e yaar ka alam sharab jaisa hai..

aur bohat jaghun per mustaqbil ki baatien, siachin jane ki baat, wahan se wapsi ka plan.. aur bachun ki planning…

aur akhri entry siachin jate huwe… ghar se nikalte huwe akhri lafz .. us k naam k sath..

Hijr ki ik lambi manzil ko jane wala hoon mien

Apni yadoon k kuch saaye mere sath karo

Aur phir who wapis lahore aa gai.. sirf 7 maheene baad, sikandar us ki xindagi se yun nikal gaya jaise kabhi aya hi nhi tha. us ka roona, bilakna, cheekhna, pagalpan, deewangi sab beekar tha.. he was not coming back.

Aur phir us ne chor dia…  beshak us ne sabar nhi kia tha , apni marzi se nhi kia tha.. majbooran kerna para tha kiun k us k bus men aur kuch tha hi nhi…

Waqt guxar ra tha .. ab b katt raha hai.. kabhi koi thandi hawa ka jhonka us k chehre se takrata hai to beikhtiyar usey sikandar ka khyl ata hai.. yeh hawa ussey b chuu k aii ho g..

Sikandar ki yaad se us ka wajood har waqt moatar rehta hai..

Xindagi men who kia kare g, aney wala kal kaisa ho ga.. yeh who nhi janti…

Who jogan nhi hai, aur shyd apne borhe maa baap k samne apni zidd ki deewar b na kharri ker sakkey g, sikandar k liye koi jung b na larr sakkey g …
per ik baat to teh hai k zindagi k har morr per sikander us k sath rahne wala hai …  chahe woh jahann b rahe, jiss k sath b rahe.. sikandar us ki dil ki basti mien khilne wala pehla phool tha, aur us ka rang tahayat laho se surkh rehna hai...

3rd feb, 2012 … the day you slipped away...

Yahan sab kuch hai Maa phr bi.. laage bin tere mujh ko akela…

Staring outside my hostel window, I felt no happiness. I had finally achieved what I dreamt of, what I wanted in life but still I couldn't feel the happiness and the excitement that should have been there…

I was feeling less.

February winds were sending everyone around into shivering but me? I stood on that naked cemented floor bare footed and not felt a thing. And suddenly I grabbed the railing and a flood of tears sprang out of my eyes and I cried uncontrollably. I had lost too much, the pain was too immense to bear. Nothing can ever give me solace.

I couldn’t believe that I had lost her and there was no one in that house now waiting for me to come. Just 3 days back I was there with her. I wanted to be with her  in that moment again.

                  Kaise bataoon Maa kahan hun men,

                  yahan urne ko mere khula asmaa hai..

                 tere kissoon k jaisa bhoola saloona jahan hai

                 sapnoon wala ……….

22 years fled by like 22 seconds. I felt deprived. There wasn’t enough time, I still had many many unsaid things.

There were laughs that I had to share and tears I wanted to shed. And I still had many more hugs due on her. “I didn’t get my full of love. Unfair!”

I am going away and I need prayers … my life jus began you cant leave me now..

All through my childhood I had the fear of loosing her. I used to wake up at night to check on her. I was afraid of waking up one day to find her gone. But with every passing day my fears subsided, and I relaxed. And now... Now when I was dead sure that you are here to stay.. Till the end, u left... Right in the middle of it.

Even now when I am crying, my heart tells me that u are sleeping in your bed.. Peacefully… that I am gonna meet you tomorrow.

‘ Assalam o alikum Zainab aii hai”

I feel your touch on my hands and your kiss on my cheeks.  I can’t loose it for forever..

I had a share in everything… even in the last two apples you had. But I could never share your pain and your misery and your loneliness.  I could never be a good daughter...

I am so sorry.. for all those times I refused to go to you. Sorry for not calling you every day. I didn’t know you’ll leave me one day and I’ll beg for your sight all my life.

I know my tears are not going to bring you back but I can’t help it. I love you so much it hurts.

I took promises... ‘mujhse wada karien ap kabhi nhi jaien g’

And whenever I used to hear about someone’s death, I would go hug her and say ‘ nano ap kabhi na marna’

All in good humor of course but my heart always fluttered with fear.

I didn’t loose you, I lost a part of me… one part of me keeps thinking about you.. your laugh and your voice rings in my ears and your embrace round me, and your beautiful hands, your eyes that were so like my own and your feet…

I want to sit in your feet again... and rub them... Like you liked.. And I want to lie down beside you. And I want you call me again... ‘ZAMBA’

Nobody is ever going to love me like that… nobody will ever connect to me again.  Nobody will ever wait like you did Nano... I am going to miss everything for the rest of my life.

And I will long for you sight, your touch, your love …

And our midnight noodle feast… I hated them…

I lost that house … I lost all my bonds... I lost everything the day u went away.

I cannot think about stepping into that house again where I know you are not waiting for me…

Every memory stings me... every sec I miss you more than before.

Time heals every wound but I can see time standing helpless... Unable to heal my wound. This one will always bleed….

You let go … I know... it was getting difficult for all of us.

I can never get out that trance of your last look. Your unshed tears. I knew, I swear …

 ‘ ik to app logoon ko rona bohat ata hai’  .. 

I didn’t cry... u didn’t want me to but I cant take this pain ne more..

U wanted to see faheema... I hope she comes back...Just for once… our trio... she knows my pain and I know hers..

I am so selfish… I knew you were suffering.. I knew u were in pain but I still wanted you to stay. I still wish you were here.

Every breath reminds me that m living without you.  

I am still alive...I talk and eat and sleep and go on with life... without you..

But there are too many memories of you to ever forget you…

I was such a fool.. I never thought that one day you will go too .. just like all the other people.

Nothing makes me happy.. Nano ji, I thought you don’t know but I now know that you did know.. Everything and u understood and you held us.

I leaned on you and now m stumbling… every footstep I think of you.

I have a key of your house... But now that my treasure is buried, m going to return it….

I hope you are well placed in Paradise. And have Noor in your grave and have good people to keep you company and I hope you have met Nana abu, already.

Amen…

Bring back what once was mine...

‘Arfa Karim is hospitalized’ this one liner sent me into a shock.

And truly speaking at first I never thought it to be very serious because after all, Arfa was just 16. I mean, how wrong could a 16 year old’s young body go? I had no idea, at what length did it go..

Just as 4 years ago, I had no idea how serious Nema was,. This was somewhat similar situation.

As soon as the reality of Arfa’s serious ailment settled in, my mind started playing tricks on me. It was Nema all over again.

Hospital, machines, drips, beep beep and pretty eyes closed shut.

I watched in amazement as Arfa’s features turned into Nema’s.

The moment Arfa’s father started calling her to wake up, I could hear voices from my past too. Young girls crowded outside ICU, tears swimming in their eyes … and the intense look on their faces, like they were literally catching at straws.. 

I remember myself almost running up to the doctor on duty : ‘ will Nema be alright? Please say yes’

He never said yes.

My cell phone rang and I was jolted back into reality. Some random friend…

10^th May, 2008 : I remember it to be a very bright and sunny Sunday morning. I was wearing an orange shirt, i remember it all too clearly. And at 10 o’clock my cell phone had rung. Nafeesa was on the line “Jaldi aao. Nema is in hospital. She has been shot.”

I was so unable to extract meaning from those simple sentences. Shot? Has Nafeesa lost it.. I mean come on is she actually talking about Nema? OUR Nema? Our FRIEND Nema?

I rushed to the hospital and I got all the answers when I saw her. Pretty as ever, delicate and petite lying on that white bed with machines all around. “ Nema ki bachi tum ne mera Sunday kharab ker dia”

And she smiled.

One by one all of us gathered. All of us who took admission in school  together in nursery and left after completing 12th grade one year back to set out on new journeys. We had made many promises to meet again and here we were. A reunion in a hospital corridor with tear streaked faces.

10 days felt like 10 long years.. unlimited prayers were offered. Each moment but fate had something else in store for us.

We all wanted to know who would make the first bride of our batch, we never for once gave a thought to the 1^st funeral of our batch.

She was taken to PIMS but not a single effort could buy her more time.

I still remember that dark, stark night. No moon glittered in the sky that night and no stars shone. They all mourned Nema. And my scattered sisters in soul all over Abbottabad were shattered that night. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I read Hanaa’s message and I couldn't believe my ears when Zainab called me. All I know is that my heart was being ripped apart. I cried as much and as hard as possible. All through the night and for many many coming nights.

Every night I wished this was a dream and every morning I realized that it wasn’t.

4 years have given us patience. We still remember Nema but with more love than sorrow.

But Arfa karim, you once again unearthed our deep wounds.

Your gold medals remind me of Nema’s distinctions and her admission in AMC.

She was to become a doctor. Doctor Nema Khattak.

Like you Arfa, she had many dreams to cherish.

And like you Arfa, Nema is going to stay in our hearts.

Alive and happy… forever!

a dream dat i dreamt...

He was the perfect person. Someone every girl would want to have. The problem, however, was that she wasn’t among the ‘every’ girl list... She was ordinary and typical in the most unconventional way. She was all she wanted herself to be.

He met her. I don’t know how to write it.  It was HIS bad luck or she had a good day. I think I will stick to the former. Yes, it was his bad luck that he saw her and fell in love with her.

Standing on the library stairs, she saw him climbing them and making his way up to her. The weather was so cold, her whole face felt numb. With Blue jeans, white coat and snickers she looked like a statue standing still on the top.  As he climbed up he saw her rosy cheeks and pink nose and her dark eyes shinning for no reason. His heart melted at the sight at her. He loved her despite all the bad things and ugly incidents. He wanted to hold her hand and comfort her. He wanted to spend his life with her. If only she could understand.

As the distances shortened, she took her hand out of her pocket and just when he was one step down she extended it for him to hold. The gesture took him by surprise, nevertheless he took it and before anything could move in the surroundings and before he could take the next breath , the words came  out of his mouth, ‘ will you marry me?’

Everything was a blur as she ran past building on the road. It had started to rain. The already gloomy city had turned greyer. She hated herself for leaving him behind on those stairs alone, in the rain. But she knew that was the best gift she could give him.

Years later….

He took her hand and ordered her to close her eye. Why she found it so funny and started to laugh, no one knows :D

Lol… she just wanted to laugh because she was with the best guy in the world… and she was falling madly in love with him under that moment’s spell and she was loving everything about it. His smile and his voice that the winds were carrying away and his gentle touch and his twinkling eyes and his humor and his presence. 

He was the answer to all her prayers J

MASHRIKI IQDAR MAR RAHI HAIN!

Khali-uz-zehan, sar-e-rah patharoon ko thokaroon per rakhe ik nojawan chala ja raha hai. Cigarette k dhuwen k marghoole urate, sarak per bandhe gariun k taante ko janchte is nojawan ki manzil namaloom hai. Aur phir ik deo qamat imarat k mathey per saja who banner us ki tawaja khainchta hai. Be hungam logoon aur Rangoon se saji who tasweer concert k liye dawat e aam hai .

Raat gehri hote hi, is nojawan k qadam maqam-e-toofan-e-badtammezi ki taraf uthte hain jahan dakhil hone wala har shaks ikhlaq o iqdar ki hadood se bahir hai. Har zehan fikr-e-dana se azad hai aur har rooh mast haal hai, jahan har badan azadi se thirakne aur saroor k liye betab hai.

Raat gehri hoti chali jati hai aur nojawan zulmat k andhe daldaal men dhansta chala jata hai.

Cig se sharab, moseeqi se naach aur sofa se sanamqada tak ka fasla ik hi jast men teh kerne wala yeh nojawan agle din k suraj k sath beedar hota hai aur sar jhatak ker dobara khali uz zehni k sath sarkoon ki dhool urata dikhai deta hai.

Yeh manzar Islami jhamooriya-e-Pakistan ka hai aur yeh koi ik waqiya nhi hai. Yahan to har roz aaise hazaroon nojawan aaise hazaroon daastanoon ko janam dete hain. Har ik dastan ka najam yeh kehta hai.. ‘mashriki iqdar mar rahi hain’

Likin yeh tasweer ka ik sirf ik rukh hai…

Dosra rukh humien Swat ki waddi men le jata hai jahan chand inteha pasand nojawan ik nokhaiz kali ko koorun ki zad per rakhe huwe hain.jahan Islam k naam per Pakistan ka mehmaar apni hi asmat ko sar-e-aam zad-o-kob ker raha hai aur ik alam yeh pukar raha hai “sana khuwan-e-taqdees-e-mashriq kahan hain?”

Nateeja yahan b yehi hai ‘mashriki iqdar mar rahi hain’

Sawal yeh hai k wo mashriki iqdar hain kahan jab wo moseeqi per tharakte nojawan k pass nhi, Kalashnikov uthate alm-e-jihad  buland perne wale Taliban k pass nhi, paghri pehne punchait lagaye wadeere k pass nhi , eewan men baithe sadar k pass nhi, sipa salar e afwaj k pass nahi to mashriki iqdar kahan hain??

Mashriki iqdar dar haqeeqat un  maa’un k seenoon men dafn hain jinhun ne hamare un aba o ajdad ko janam dia jin k bare men kaha gaya hai k “tujh ko abaa se apne koi nisbat ho nhi sakti”

Mashriki iqdar un behnoon ki rida k palu’on se bandhi hain jo quran k saye men apne bhaiyun ko talwaroon ki jhankaar se goonjte maidan-e-jung men bhaijti hain.

Maskriki iqdar un baap’on k jhuriun zada hathun men hain jo apne shaheed baite ko kandha dene k bawajood mazboot hain.

Aaj mulk –e- khudadad k charoon suboon k charoon konoon men nazar dohrane wale ko is bat ka bakhobi andaza ho jaye ga k sana khuwan e taqdees e mashrik kahan ja sooye hain aur mashriki iqdar q mar rahi hain!

Bachun ko cable aur internet ki rangeen aur azad dunia aur mutasrif kerwa k apni social activities men gum maa aur business k nam per andha paisa kamane wala baap apni oolad ko kia mashriki iqdar se wakif kerwae ga?

Westernization k chakar men ghanchakkar bani awaam apni agli nasaloon ko kin mashriki iqdar ka toofa de g?

Mulk dushmanoon aur islam dushmanoon ko aziz rakhne wale rehnuma apni 17 carore awam k iqdar ko kia tahafuz dey sakien gey?

Yeh aj ki tareekh ki who chand karbnaak haqeeqatien hain jin se nigah churana har sahib e ilm aur sahib e dana insane kliye maqam e sharmindagi b hai aur maqam e majboori b!

Majboori is ziman men k tasaleem e shikast hamari sarshist men nhi aur sharmindagi is liye k dil to baharhal haal-e-dil se wakif hai!  

Tell me....

‘aey rah e haq k shaheedo,

Wafa ki tasweero,

tumien watan ki hawaen

 salam kehti hain’

I have been hearing this along with other small documentaries that depict the uproar in the country regarding the NATO and ISAF attack on an army check post in Mehmand agency yesterday.(26^th nov,2011)killing 24 army officers. Foreign minister Hina Rabbani Khar has conveyed her anger over this attack to Hillary Clinton saying that such attacks are unacceptable.

I logged in my Fb account and saw statuses of my friends regarding this incident and messages from different pages and groups condemning it. Even the display pictures of different groups have become colorless.

I respect it all but as I looked at the news headline, a thought struck my mind.

Why are we mourning over 24 army men and why are we so surprised as a nation when we are used to hearing the news of drone attacks on Mehmand, Khyber, Malakand, Bajaur, Dir, Meeranshah, Waziristan and others Paki territories that wipe out entire colonies in which innocent people of Pakistan reside.

Tell me, isn’t it unfair to those men n women n children? How come they are so unimportant to us that we never even bother to give their miserable death a second thought? Why, as a nation, we have accepted drone attacks as the fate of those tribal men n women? Why have we become so ‘cruel’ in deciding their future?

Aren’t they human enough to arouse our sympathies? Our government doesn’t register a protest against those inhuman attacks. Let alone that, it doesn’t even bother to count the number of people dead and put it all under the heading of ‘collateral damage’.

It saddens me to state all this but tell me why are we so indifferent towards those who are protecting those impossible areas of our country that are open for any kind of travelling because of its terrain. Look at the hardships they bear, the kind of life they live and the attitude that is kept towards them and they still remain faithful to us … what do we offer in return?

A drone attack, an untimely death, unidentified dead bodies, crippled survivors, orphans and widows and loads of cries and broken hearts...

How can we be so heartless to cry over one baby girl of a captain and ignore hundreds of children who suffer each day in one remote corner of our land? Their lives, their sorrows, their existence, their dreams, their survival, their wellbeing means nothing to us…

Are they not Pakistani? Or probably we think they are some 3^rd class citizens, living off in dirt and should be treated as scum because that is their fate and because we are pharaohs in our minds.

Quaid-e-Azam called them’ the protectors of our borders and an integral part of Pakistan’ so much for Quaid’s saying…

And tell me if we are all questioning America now for the shahadat of 24 men in an impermissible attack, does this mean that those drone attacks were carried out with permission?

If these are ‘shaheeds’, then those must be ‘maqtools’

Why are our media and govt n army fussing over this incident? It’s a progress made by USA.

Had we not provided our soils to America, America wouldn’t have dared standing astride our chest today dishing out serious and unwarranted threats!

If only our dictator hadn’t started the sale of Pakistani blood, we could have saved so many of us.

If only he had said a firm NO to USA then, at least we would have been fighting our own war…

This all started with Aimal Kansi and the fire has grown since … uncontrollably.

I am not anti-army or something. I am a Pakistani who cries evenly on  the death of armymen as well as civilians.

Dear Pakistanis, don’t create divide. Mourn over every single Pakistani man, women and child and condemn every drop of blood that was shed! May ALLAH be with us!

“Zulm to phir zulm hai, bharta hai to mit jata hai

Khoon to phir khoon hai, girta hai to jam jata hai!”

Mere Charagar ..!

‘itne khuwab mat dekha karo, reality is very different’ 

ik aam se din, ik aam c mulaqat men, aam si batun k darmiyan us ne aam se lehjey men kaha tha magar pata nhi kiun men kuch chonk si gai. Ik lamhe ko hairat ne meri ankhun men ghar kia hoga likin phir men hans parri thi.

‘khuwab bht ahem hote hai pagal.. xindagi men jahan kami reh jati hai us ko yeh poora kerte hain’

Us ne beyaqeeni se mujhe dekha per kuch kaha nhi.. kaash wo us din kuch keh deta..

Phir us ne bohat socha, us waqt tak socha jab tak meri ankhun ka har khuwab us k naam ho gaya aur ussey laga k mere khuwab mujhe kabhi haqeeqat men nhi aney dien gey aur who khuwaboon men nhi reh sakta.. usey laga k who mere sath nhi reh sakta..

“tere hath se mere hath tak, who jo hath bhar ka tha fasla, kai mausamoon men badal gaya

  Ussey napte, ussey kattey, mera sara waqt nikal gaya”

Zindagi guzar to rahi thi, kia tha jo 6 sattarun per phaila wo khat mujhe na milta. Kaash men ghar pe hi na hoti ya kaash sirf aj k liye hi sahi who address mera na hota…

“ tum thek kehti thi, xindagi men khuwab bht xaroori hote hain. Tumari ghani palkoon per thehre un khuwaboon ne dua ban ker meri rahien asaan ker di hain. Men aj b tumare khuwaboon ki rehguzar per chal ra ha hun. Jab kabhi mayoosi channe lagti hai to koi khuwab umeed ka jugnu ban k roshni ker deta hai aur agar kabhi ansu bahane ka dil chahe to koi awara sa khuwab muskarat ban k mere hoonton per sajh jata hai.. suno, tum khuwab dekhna mat chorna”

Kitna bura huwa k jab yeh perh k bebasi ke ehsas se mene kai ansoo baha diye to mera koi khuwab muskurahat ban k mere hoonton per ni aya balkey us pal mere har har khuwab ne mujhe bohat rulaya..

Shyd who khuwab jiss k naam key they, sirf ussi se wafa ker rahe they…

Bahir achanak bht baraf perhne lagi aur har cheez safeedi talley chup si gai … mera dil chaha k men b bahir jaun aur wahan khari rahun jab tak mera sara wajood baraf se dhak nhi jata aur men apne wajood men dafaan nhi ho jati.

Likin shyd men yeh sab b nhi ker sakti.. aur kia farq parey ga k agar men aaisa na b kerun.. jiss din us ne meri ankhoon ka akhri khuwab torra tha, mera wajod to ussi din mitti ka ho gaya tha..

“yeh jo zakm zakm se khuwab hain, yeh jo raat hai mere chaar su

Yeh jo bebasi ka hai kafla, mere raastun men rukka huwa

nahi kuch b tujh se chupa huwa, issey hukm dey yeh kare safar..."

"ALLAH O AKBAR' durr kaheen moazan ne taqbeer parii aur men apne charagar se milne chal di.... 

sach aur kufr...

Men ne aj tak sach nhi kaha. Waja yeh nhi thi k men sach keh nhi sakti thi balkey waja who khauf tha jo mujhe sach se lahaq tha. Mera sach kufr tha. Kam se kam mujhe yehi lagta tha k mera sach kufr hai iss liye mene hameesha iss sach ko chupaye rakha. Likin kal raat ‘Nepal nagri’ men  mustansar sahib ne achanak mujhe aaisi baat keh di k men chonk gai. Mujhe laga k who jante hain k mera sach kuch aur hai tabhi to unhun ne itne bamani andaz men kai jaga kaha  ‘ har kissi ka sach alag alag hota hai’

Sach to yeh hai k mujhe apne sach k ilawa sab ka sach jhoot lagta hai. Sach yeh b hai k mene aj tak kissi aur  k sach per dhehan nhi dia..

 Hum musalaman hain… ALhamdulilah! Butoon ko nhi poojhte likin mera sach yeh kehta hai k beshak log  pathar k button ko  nhi poojhte likin un sab ne apne apne dil men ALLAH k naam ka ik but saja rakha hai jise who waqt bewaqt sadja dete rehte hain. Aur mera kufr yeh hai k men aj tak ALLAH k naam ka koi but apne dil men nhi saja sakki, sadja to durr ki baat.

Musalmano ne ‘do qoami nazriya’ dia, us ki bunyad per Pakistan banaya. ilzam ALLAH pe dalla k hum ALLAH ki ibadat kerte hain, but parastoon k sath nhi reh sakte per hazar saaloon men unhun ne chupke se apne dil men ALLAH ka b ik bout bana dala….

Aur har who shaks  jo y eh na ker sakka us per fatwa jarri ker dia..

Shayad mujhe b fatwoon se hi dar lagta tha. Wagarna sach to yeh hai k ALLAH hameesha nur ki surat men dil men utra hai aur who b aaise k mera wajood roshni ho gaya. Men ALLAH se kabhi aqeedat na rakh sakki. Na hi kabhi aqeedat k marey dur dur se apni aqeedat ka izhar kissi shameeli dhulhan ki tarhan ker saaki. Per mene Us se beinteha mohabbat xarur ki hai. Behadh, begarz mohabbat. Mohabbat b aaisi k men kissi ziddi bache ki tarhan ALLAH se gaud men baithne ki farmaish kerti hun. Bachpan se baghi tabiyat k bais kabhi darwaze ki aut se halka sa jhank ker kissi ko sharmeeli muskurahat ka taufa na de saaki.. yehi mamla ALLAH k sath b rawaan rakha hai..

Mujhe apna app Arab k us badhu jaisa lagta hai jo ALLAH ki mohabbat men sarshar ho k beikhtiyar pukar uthta hai ;’ Aye ALLAH , kash tu mere pass hota to men tere baal sanwarta, tujhe bakri ka taza dood pilata, tujhe nehlata, tera khayal rakhta…’ aur ALLAH ko b yaqeenan us k sach per piyar aya tha chahe ALI(r.a) ko bura b lagey.

Ya shayad mera dil Mansur hai, jiss k maan men jab ALLAH bhar gaya to who chila utha :’ ANAL HAQ’

Phir mahaballi ne suli charhaya b to kia ganwaya Mansur ne…

Ibrahim(a.s) kiun be khatar kood pare atish-e-namrood men.. beshak unhien b mohabbat ne us atish-e- zar men ALLAH ka nur dikhlaya ho ga…

Ghulam Farid ne rohi ki chilchilati dhoop men ALLAH k ishq men dhoop ker jo kafiye kahe, Allah ne unhien qabooliyat ka ehzaz bakhsa aur inam k taur per anay wale waqtoon k liye amar ker dia..     Gandhiya maidiya khol na mahi,

Ajj ik qaid se mere wajood ne rihaaii pa li hai, mera dil seene ki qaid men kissi tazadam parinde ki tarhan pharpharaya hai.. mene apne sach ko tasleem ker lia hai.. who sach jo xehr ban raha tha meri be ehtinai se, aj mene usey amrat men badal dala hai..

Mera sach ,kufr hai aur kufr mera sach hai..

Oh suhagan hoiyaan, jeera naal mahi de gandhiyaa….!

word game..!

She stood in the balcony for a long time, in the cold stark night. Everything was the same. The dark silence, full moon standing alone in the crowd of glittering stars, voices of summer insects and she herself. But then again she could feel an emptiness that was making the whole scene gloomier and more eerie than ever before. The time had seemed to lost count.

A distant laughter jolted her. She looked behind with a sharp twist but only found complete darkness gawping at her.  ‘oh’ she now remembered. It was her very laughter that was lingering in some distant town. Stray winds had brought it back to her but it had died without touching her lips.

She stood staring at the sky and there she could see it all like a clear movie scene. She was with them, the two kids she adored. Their muffled voices were reaching her ears. She remembered teasing the little girl with long shiny hair and dimples and her denying and tickling her in reply. The young boy with twinkling black eyes was laughing and egging her not to give in to the little girl.  

An owl hooted nearby and brought her back to the real world. She tried to locate it in the dead of the night but it was impossible to even make out its silhouette in the dark.

A slight movement caught her attention in the nearby bush. She looked at it for a while but her mind was still wandering in the wooden corridor where in the middle of roof hung a beautiful ancient chandelier. Whenever the strong winds rattled the window panes, she feared that chandelier might crash but it never did. She secretly believed that it was hung in the air by magic; however she never mouthed this to anyone.

On the left side of the corridor was the door to kitchen. Black marble floor and wooden shelves in a spacious room gave it a very classic look.  A smile spread across her face as she remembered herself sitting on one of the selves, eating sweet sugar balls as fast as she was chatting with Gul bibi.

Gul bibi n she had a lot in common. Despite the age difference they enjoyed each other’s company, always finding something new and fresh to start the day with. This time they had chosen hair treatment. They plucked long and swollen stems of aloe vera plant which were dripping with the gooey transparent material. After half an hour this along with oil were transferred to their heads. Laughing hard at their own reflections in the mirror they tried to guess what miracles will occur with their hair. Being ‘Rapunzel’ was their target.  Even though they were unable to achieve that, the result was quiet satisfactory, enough to keep them marry for the next two days.

A strong gust of wind sent a cold shiver down her spine and she shrugged involuntarily to keep herself warm.  Suddenly she craved for coffee. She had never liked it strong n bitter rather creamy and very mild. More like her.

Unintentionally she looked at the clocked and was taken aback... it was more than four hours that she had been standing outside reminiscing. And at this late hour while making herself coffee she was reminded of the last person who resided there. That comfortable sofa in the far corner of the room, with a tall lamp standing right behind it, was always occupied by him.  She had known him to be an intellectual soul with a very unique perspective about thing and an insight that was not very commonly found among the masses. She knew he was special but unrecognized. She wondered if he was at a wrong place at right time. And it usually saddened and at times infuriated her to see him wasting himself like his.  But nevertheless she enjoyed his company and the descriptions and explanations he gave.  There used to come times when she used to stop listening to him and just concentrated on his feature. He was very handsome but years of negligence had left its effect on his physique. He looked older than his age and somehow his weary soul was visible through his once very alive eyes. 

The steaming hot mug was ready. Taking small step she stepped into the lounge and stood by the window. It had started to rain heavily. Unaware of it her eyes started to shed water too. Her heart still bled whenever she was reminded of one of the most painful incidents of her life which affected her so deeply that she, herself couldn’t measure the depth of it.

Although she could sense the tension among the spouses but she thought it was under control and quiet normal. Couples do have differences. Sadly, they had no idea that the tension was ebbing towards the threshold limit. She cursed herself for not being smart enough to assess the situation.  The divorced between gul bibi n him came as a shocker for her. She remembered herself standing stunned in her room, as those ugly voices reached her ears. She tried to shut the sound waves but there was no way she could not listen. It was all too loud and clear. She broke down when he uttered the first ‘divorce’. crying hard she prayed for some miracle that would put stop to the words coming out of his mouth. The cruel words that were destroying everything around, setting everything ablaze, washing away everything… after what seemed like ages, she opened her eyes. The world had lost all the color. Everything was grey. Even the lights had gone dim. And the sun outside hid behind dark grey clouds as if heart broken itself.

Soon after that everything happened as if in haze. The cozy cottage went barren and empty.

3 MONTHS LATER:

She sighed and for an umpteenth time wished to go back to the cottage that was not hers. She wanted to leave behind her lonely world she loved and step into the warmth of that cozy house. She wanted to feel the strong waves of love and longing in the air.  She was never superstitious but right now she asked the Lord for some sign. And suddenly as if responding to her silent prayers God sent a shooting star. Tears of gratitude welled up in her eyes. She closed her eyes, letting the tears run down her cheeks and prayed with all her heart.

As the first rain drop fell on her tear streaked face she made her way inside. She hoped that the rain would wash away the pain of yesterday!

INQALAB ZINDABAD!!

People on streets, no traffic, markets closed, green bandanas on head, emotions in the air, passion in the eyes, anger in gestures, the ‘do or die’ aura around masses and only one demand on the lips of so many “ inqalaab, inqalaab”

Govt trying to control the situation, usage of tear gas and shells to dismiss the crowd, fire opened on innocent protestors, many killed, hundreds injured. No use, no result!

I was among the protestors wearing the green sign proudly. I shouted ‘inqalaab’ till my throat started to hurt. This went on for days without any result. It seemed to go on forever and ever…

I felt tired but enthusiastic also for it was the only solution to the disparity of our society. “Inqalaab, inqalaab” I shouted along with my fellow protestors. “Inqalaab, inqalaab” my voice started to grow fainter. My soul gradually left my body. I felt it go distant…

It was a life time before I finally felt intact but no one around me seemed to notice. I saw the whole scene with a new insight and began to retrieve my footsteps until I was away from the crowd still demanding ‘inqalaab’

I lay awake staring in the sky. The word had just stuck to my mind. My soul had seen it with the eye of a third person and the report said: “you are asking for something you have no idea about. Who are you addressing? The govt? You want the officials to resign? Will it solve your problem?”

There were so many questions and no answer. I was going ballistic searching for them but all I could see was dark.

I begged Al-Mighty, my source of solace and my last resort to help me. A word popped in my head: “IQRA”

So I set out for a new journey and as I read the last line of the biography of Prophet Mohammad (P.B.U.H), I smiled.

Inqabaab – change and that too drastic.

That is what we want and that is something we are ready to die for… right?

Wrong! Because surprisingly it is a very peaceful process and requires zero blood shedding. The only requirement is dedication and will power, for it starts with bringing a change in your own self.

Analyze your personality keeping Hazrat Mohammad (S.A.W) as standard and you will know what is lacking in us which is proving to be a hurdle in the way of inqalaab.

Right now the sins we commit and the bad habits we own are not any individual’s problem rather it has become a national dilemma. Every one in our society indulges into lying, cheating, embezzlement, bribery, deceiving and what not. We commit sins that are in our reach and that too with justifications.  We even have the nerve to mold our religion 
according to our own will.

"All the sins of my followers will be forgiven except those which are
disclosed to the people. For example a person commits a sin at night
and though Allah screens it from the public, in the morning he says.
"O so-and-so, I did such-and-such evil deed"

Sahih Bukhari Hadith No. 980 Book 78, Chapter 60 Narrated by Ibn Umar (r.a.)

The Prophet (peace be upon him) cursed the one who bribes and the one who takes bribe.

Sunan of Abu Dawood Hadith No. 1595 Narrated Abdullah ibn Amr ibn al-'As

"The most hated person in the sight of Allah is the most quarrelsome person."

Sahih Al-Bukhari Volume 003 Book 043 Hadith number 637           Narrated by Aisha (r.a.)

Hazrat Abu Hurairah (Radhiyallaahu Anhu) narrates, in a hadith, that the Prophet (Sallallaahu Alayhi Wasallam) said, "The signs of a hypocrite are three; whenever he speaks, he tells a lie; whenever he promises, he breaks his promise; if you have trust in him, he proves to be dishonest.




Abdullah bin 'Abbas narrates in one hadith, "Abu Sufyan bin Harb informed me that Heraclius had sent a messenger to him while he had been accompanying a caravan from Quraish. They were merchants doing business in Sham, at the time when Allah's Apostle(Sallallaahu Alayhi Wasallam) had truce with Abu Sufyan and Quraish infidels. So Abu Sufyan and his companions went to Heraclius at Ilya (Jerusalem). Heraclius called them in the court and he had all the senior dignataries around him. He called for his translator who, translating Heraclius's question said to them, "Who amongst you is closely related to that man who claims to be a Prophet?" Abu Sufyan replied, "I am the nearest relative to him (amongst the group)." Heraclius said, "Bring him (Abu Sufyan) close to me and make his companions stand behind him." Abu Sufyan added, Heraclius told his translator to tell my companions that he wanted to put some questions to me regarding that man (The Prophet) and that if I told a lie they should contradict me." Abu Sufyan added, "By Allah! Had I not been afraid of my companions labelling me a liar, I would not have spoken the truth about the Prophet(Sallallaahu Alayhi Wasallam). The first question he asked me about him was 'What is his family status amongst you?' I replied, "He belongs to a good (noble) family amongst us." Heraclius further asked, "Has anybody amongst you ever claimed the same (i.e. to be a Prophet) before him?" I replied, "No." He said, "Was anybody amongst his ancestors a king?" I replied, "No." Heraclius asked, "Do the nobles or the poor follow him?" I replied, "It is the poor who follow him." He said, "Are his followers increasing or decreasing (day by day)?" I replied, "They are increasing." He then asked, "Does anybody amongst those who embrace his religion become displeased and renounce the religion afterwards?" I replied, "No." Heraclius said, "Have you ever accused him of telling lies before his claim (to be a Prophet)?" I replied, "No." Heraclius said, "Does he break his promises?" I replied, "No. We are at truce with him but we do not know what he will do in it." I could not find opportunity to say anything against him except that. Heraclius asked, "Have you ever had a war with him?" I replied, "Yes." Then he said, "What was the outcome of the battles?" I replied, "Sometimes he was victorious and sometimes we." Heraclius said, "What does he order you to do?" I said, "He tells us to worship Allah and Allah alone and not to worship anything along with Him, and to renounce all that our ancestors had said. He orders us to pray, to speak the truth, to be chaste and to keep good relations with our kith and kin."

This is the inqalaab, we are searching for on the streets and in our demands of resigns.  We all are the same. If this current govt does resign others with same sins, same intentions, same level of corruption will take over. We need to take the social evil out from the root and believe me it has its roots in our hearts too!

“…It was asked, ‘will we be destroyed whilst the righteous are amongst us?’ He (s.a.w) said, ‘Yes, if the corruption increases (beyond bounds)

[Saheeh al-Bukhari and Muslim, on the authority of Zaynab bint Jahsh about the Ya’jooj]”

We need to get our facts straight before blindly following the one with Inqalaab as a slogan.

We are in dire need of change of heart. The test is not to say I believe in Allah, the Exalted rather is to stay firm on this statement. With us, we change with every moment, our heart changes and that's why this is called Qalb (heart) meaning overturns. This was the reason that our Prophet, Sallaho Aleikhe wasallam, frequently used to make doa'

 "O, Allah, the One who changes the heart, make my heart steadfast on your religion".

These difficult moments are a must-part of every one's life (Muslim or otherwise) and Allah, the Exalted says

“Verily, along with every hardship is relief, verily, along with every hardship is relief."  (Surah Alm Nashra: 5-6)

May Allah help us walk on the true path. Amen.


[i would like to acknowledge Dr Tahir Amin who wrote the last lines for me to understand ]