A tree by the graveyard

There is this tree that I instantly noticed when i walked up the hill to meet you. It isn't a healthy big tree standing tall and looking above everything. NO, it is rather bowed down like it despairs. Well, why not..It has to have a sad aura around it for it has overlooked your last resting place for thousands of heartbeats now. It saw my tears and heard me talking to you over the years and now this .. another grave dug right in front of it.

It saw me break down the moment I saw the two graves side by side , one freshly made and the other covered with a thin layer of dust. It saw me wail silently at the loss that has left my life in rumble. I feel closest to this tree at the moment, close enough to sit by it at the sunset and talk to it. Talk to it about you my beloveds, two hearts made of gold ,lost under a pile of earth.

Feelings, not words .. not even a faint sound ... Oh how i wish to just sit there .. day in and day out .. by the foot of your grave and rest my head on it.. with no sense of time and space.. I want to miss you with every nerve and cell of my body with every ounce of energy and with every shred of love I have! I want to sit by the tree and miss you.. let the world dissolve around me , let the faces fade.. let the seasons annul and let the time flow by .. I wouldn't want to stir , not even with the heartache.. not even when the heart breaks.. I wouldn't want to stir at all.. Did you hear the tree sigh? It sighed .. it saw .. it saw through me, the pain that pierces my body like sharp needles. It saw the burden of the unsaid words and baggage of the future that won't happen.

If anyone would ask, I would tell them that 'the tree by the graves' is the most precious thing in the world for me. For it stands tall over you, gives you shade and keeps you company. Oh, I have tied my heart around it for you to see how it beats and bleeds for you. How a portion of it has crystallized and how my childhood has frozen inside. How we are all together and how our smiles shine through the translucence brightening up the lonely nights. How every breath is a prayer and how every tear is a hope. How our laughter echoes through the night , how fear is only a myth. How I love the graveyard better than a home now.. How it is the home now..

No love

There is no love left in the world for the author at the moment. 

Dear Shehrzad

Dearest of all Shehrzad,

I must apologize for not writing to you all these months. I have no proper excuse for it but the fact that we both lost each other in this funny place called life.
I am in my office and while preparing a useless report about some useless problem, i remembered you! Thus, this letter.
Remind me of who I was S because it feels like I have lost myself. There has been a lot of heart break and even though apparently it healed, it hasn't in real. It took away everything ; my colors, my skills, my uniqueness...
Can't you see how unattractive my words have become? This is how every inch of my being looks like ... bland , bleak and unappealing!
I have no tales of craziness to write about or any theories on how universe really works. I am a prisoner in a vacuum. There is nothing around me except a lot of grey space and even though I am not breathing, somehow I am still alive and afloat.
Do heart breaks do this to you? Reduce you to nobody? All around me people move .. and I am still.. an emptiness in my once alive eyes and silence in my once noisy self. You do remember me chatty and chirpy , right? Next time when you see me talking, look closely and you will see that I have woven a mask to hide behind ... my battered self is bruised and bleeding... like a survivor of a terrible cursed fire. Sometime I wonder, If I was the one starting this fire .. !
It is such a struggle to even think about writing, let alone all those glamorous tales embellished with exaggerated details and fancy words..
Tell me Shehrzad, will I ever be free of this ghost? Will I ever be brave enough to set a foot out of this cage that I have unwillingly imprisoned myself in? Will love ever look the same to me?
Do you know how much I lie on average now? Every time when I say ' everything is fine' !!!
Is 1 year and 5 months an ample time to piece together myself? I have tried but a lot of significant pieces are missing like my heart and my mind .. a few senses and the ability to love again. Everyday from this day, whenever I'll tell you about a crush or some random person I have met , you must not believe me entirely. I won't be completely honest with you.. There won't be another for a long long time who'd touch me and make me feel alive.

Looking forward to seeing you in lush green meadows of your beautiful town.

Yours mildly,
Maureen.

نہیں

نہیں مجھے اب اور نہیں لکھنا محبت کے فسانوں کو ۔۔
تمھاری انکھوں کے سرابوں کو
نشے میں چور ، جذ بات سے مخمور تمھاری باتوں کو ۔۔۔ اب اور نہیں لکھنا۔۔ 
اب کے سمجھا دیا ہے میں نے دل کو کہ محبت اک لفظ کے سوا کچھ بھی نہیں
اب  اور نہیں سہنا اس کے عذابوں کو
  بتا دیا ہےخود کو کہ دل کا کام نہیں ہے یہ 
   ۔ مچلنا ۔ تڑپنا ۔ سلگنا ۔ بلکنا
نہیں سوچنا مجھے اب ستاروں کا، آسماں میں اپنی ذات کے جیسے تنہا سیارے کا
نہ بانسری کا اور نہ مرغزاروں کا 
نہ دور وادی
میں گونجتی رباب کی آوازوں کا
 اب انتظار میں وقت برباد نہیں کرنا
دیامر کے بہتے جھرنے
اور بے موسم کے کھلے پھولوں کو
نہیں دینی اب محبت سے تشبہہ، یہ سوچ لیا ہے میں نے
اب کبھی اپنی انکھوں میں جھانکنا نہیں ھے 
اب کبھی اترانا نہیں ہے
چہچہانا نہیں ہے
مسکرانا نہیں ہے
 !! اب کبھی محبت کو آزمانا نہیں ھے 

دلْ تباہ کو تم سے بڑی شکایت ہے

تمھارے ھمارے درمیان تمام رابطے ختم ہوئے۔۔۔ چلو اچھا ہوا۔۔اب تمھاری ذات سے سوائے تکلیف کے اور کچھ ملنا ممکن نہیں تھا کہ تم ایک ٹوٹے ہوئے کانچ کے ٹکڑے کی مانند ہو۔۔
تمہیں چھونا اذیت
تمہیں دیکھنا اذیت
تمہیں چاہنا اذیت۔۔۔

چند برس پہلے اگر کوئی کہتا کہ زندگی میں یہ لمحہ بھی آ کھڑا ہو گا ھمارے درمیان تو شاید اس پیشن گو سے روابط ختم کر دیے جاتے۔ ۔۔
کوئی جھانک کے دیکھتا تو اس دل میں تمھارے محبت کے لہلہاتے کھلیانوں پہ رشک کرتا۔۔ ہر ایک شخص تمھارے بعد تھا اور تم صفٖ اول، خانہْ اول، گوشہْ اول، تختٖ اول ۔۔۔
مرے ہر لفظ میں تمھارا عکس تھا ۔۔۔
اور ہر اک سوچ پہ تمھاری پرچھائی۔۔
تم فخر بھی تھے اور مان بھی ۔۔۔ 

سب نے دیکھا سوائے تمھارے۔۔
کھوٹے سکے کی چکا چوند پہ اپنا آپ لٹانے والے،  میری محبت کے تمام موتی اب اشک ہوئے
اب تم پہلے سے نہیں دکھتے  ۔۔
دھندلے سے ہو ، 
مٹیالے سے ۔۔ 
بے رنگ اور بے نور سے ۔۔ 
تمھارے وجود کی چاندنی اس دل سے پھوٹتی تھی  تاوقتیکہ دل تھا ۔۔۔ 
اب دل نہیں رہا، اب صرف شکایت ہے ۔۔ 
 مجھے تم سے بہت شکایت ہے۔۔۔  

Maureen (As received)

It was the last letter I received from Maureen, sobbing in tears as I read every word of it. Knowing till this day she plead for a closure.
It took me a lot of courage to decide what should I do?
Should I give her what she has been asking all these years? A mere conclusion to her love? Or should I just let her pass these remaining years with same agony?
I couldn't sleep all night as a heavy burden on my chest which I have carried since 93. I had convinced myself its ended its over but her letter which I received after 2 years of gap, just says it all. It's never an end to love....
Twisting and turning in bed, I made a decision...
Next morning I woke up, got my self ready and left to see Mareen. All my journey I was nervous, a strange feeling grips my very being. I was scared to see her and reveal the truth on her. I reached my destination, my every step to her door felt so heavy.
I knocked, a young lad came up to the door, gentleman with his personality he asked politely.
Can I help you sir?
I couldn't even utter her name, ummm,ummm
Can I meet Maureen?
Are you friends of her?
Yeah, yeah....
He invited me inside and sat me down, offering a cup of tea, he shouted mom somebody is here to see you.
It was that very moment I thought I will have a heart attack,all these questions rushed in my mind.
How can I face her..
How can I tell her the truth...
How can I do that to her....
A few minutes, she walked in, I was spell bound to see her...
Sorry I don't remember you? She asked
I stood up and said yeah
U don't know me, I am your sailor's younger brother Joseph.
There was silence..
A silence which I had never witness in my 40 years of hard wrenched life.
She sat down in front of me, with tears sliding down her cheeks.
She murmured "is he alive"?
I couldn't look her in the eye, I felt guilty.
No, he is not, I'm afraid but I'm here to tell you something u should know all these years.
My big brother Adam, was the sweetest and most kind hearted person I ever knew. He was my father, my mother, my everything. I loved him more than I can love anyone.
I received you letter yesterday and I couldn't bear the burden anymore, I have to tell you his side of story for your peace and peace to his soul.
Maureen, my brother loved you, he loved you more than me. You were family to him, sometimes I used to get jealous of you, cause he would always jabber about you and your beauty and today I know, why he was so head over heals in love with you.

Maureen, I'm really sorry and I'm even more sorry for what I'm going to tell you next.

My brother never went on any voyage, the day he left you. A week before you held his hand for the last time, he was sleeping and woke up with a severe pain. I had to take him to the hospital. After three days of repeated test, doctors diagnosed him with stage 3 stomach cancer. In blink of an eye, his life fell apart,dreams shattered. Time stopped as I hug him and we cried and cried.

I remember we came back home and he went to the dressing, opened the drawer and pulled out a ring.
Joseph, do u like it?
I said, it's beautiful.
I was going to propose her on Saturday, I had planned everything, decorations, flowers, venue everything,Joseph. But I guess, God has some other plans for me....
I can't do this to her, you know, I love her so much that I cannot drag her down with me to this pain and agonising end, which I'm destined too.

So, he decided that he will let you go. The reason he didn't say anything cause he knew if he explained, you will question him and that will break him down to tears and he will spill the truth. He never wanted to end this way Maureen.

He read all your letters over and over and over again. Now there is no writing left on them, cause he used to cry on every word that it erased every letter u put down. He was a very loving soul, once in a while he will send me to your neighbourhood to see if you are doing ok.
When I told him you have moved on and gotten married, it gave him so much peace. I guess he was hanging on to life just to see you smile once again.

He never got to see your last letter otherwise he would have cried and gotten his pain even worse. He passed away 2 years ago, after fighting really hard for his life.
In his last days, he used to tell me, all the good times he spent with you and how your presence made him feel. Every emotion that you 2 shared, he told me everything.
Sometimes I couldn't handle and used to cry with him. In that very moment he used to smile and wipe my tears and say to me
Joseph "live as if there is no tomorrow".

He took promise from me to never tell you, why he left?..

But I couldn't bare it any more and when I receive your letter I felt both of your souls needed the peace.

I got up and sat next to Maureen, she was silent, shocked, no tears came out of her eyes. Just silent...
I held her in my arms, I am sorry Maureen, I'm really sorry....

She started crying, screaming in pain..

How can he do this to me?
How......

She cried for an hour and then asked me to take her to his grave.

She got ready in hurry and we both left to seek our peace.

Big brother may you soul rest in peace....

Maureen

It was the last letter I received from Maureen. She had dipped every word in pain.. the pain that had been woven together.. Teary and desolate , I read every word of it... with a heavy heart .. she was pleading for a closure, even after all these years..  It took me a lot of courage to decide what should I do? Should I give her what she had been asking all these years ; An ending to her love story or should I let the agony be?
 All through the night, these thoughts raced through my mind and I was unable to sleep even for a second. By the crack of the dawn, I had convinced myself  that if it has not gone all his time, it wouldn't end now. In my view the letter I had received 2 years ago should have been the last one, but this letter in my hand proved me wrong.
 Next morning I left to see Maureen.. I had decided to look her in the face and tell her of the burden that I was carrying on my chest.  A strange feeling griped my very being as reached her place.. It was a very artistic Victorian style house.. she was a woman of class..
I looked at my unsteady hands and took a deep breath...A few seconds after I had knocked, a young lad opened the door.. Thick black hair fell carelessly on his broad forehead, deep blue eyes looked at me eagerly as I missed his greeting ...
"Uh, excuse me sir?" His concerned voice brought me back to reality. I couldnt help but notice that he had the same dimple that I was so familiar with.. A dimple that distracted the listeners and laughed at the helpless admiration of the opposite..
"Umm , oh yeah ..... Can I.. Can I see her? ............ Maureen?"
His frown deepened... "Are you friends with her?"
"I know her very well... Yes..".. he invited me inside and sat me down, offering a cup of tea .It was that very moment that fear uncoiled inside me.. I was here to put an end to someone's wait .. a wait that was now a part of her life.. her routine.. I was there to take away the moments she spent in the evening sitting by the window staring in her past. I was there to take away her reason to write a letter again.. I was there to make all her unfinished letters meaningless..

Then all of a sudden,before I could run away, she walked in the room and I ... saw her... I saw the person, who had haunted my life .. Who was unknown yet I knew her down to the pores of her fingers... I was spell bound !!

"Hello... I am Maureen but i am sorry I don't seem to remember you? She smiled.. The dimple peeked at me..
I stood up abruptly .. "Yes, I am sorry.. U don't know me" I choked on my words.
"You ... your voice and your eyes.. "She left her sentence incomplete and shook her head.
"I am Sebastian's brother ,Maureen..." I said in a voice so low that I could hardly hear my own self speak and yet she heard me.. She didn't hear his name, she smelled it..
"Sailor's younger brother" she whispered.. suddenly, the air was moist .. I felt as if the time, that one second had frozen.. One second , just the way she wanted... that was the moment of agony..
"How is he?" I stared at her .. was she crying because she knew the answer already or was it because she knew and my visit confirmed it... What efforts we put in avoiding the sad truth and there I was, 6ft of sad and unavoidable truth. I couldn't look her in the eye.. i felt terribly guilty.
"I  received your letter yesterday. Just like all the letters you have been sending all these years..." I stopped and gave her a chance to get up , shout at me .. tell me.. how dare I.. How dare Sebastian...but she just sat there... silent with a lot of tears...
"He didn't go on any voyage.. He couldn't.. The day he came to Sicily to meet us.. he was thrilled..." The memory came alive right in front of my eyes... "He couldn't stop talking about you.. He was drenched and drunk in love.. He took me with him and we came back to Paris .. He was fine until he wasn't.." My voice shook ..
" He threw up ... all over the patio .. blood.. he threw up blood .." Pain and horror spread across her beautiful face .. The two very emotions Sebastian vowed never to subject Maureen to ..
"He showed me the ring .. He said that it was made for just one very special person on earth.. designed to seal the fate of you two alone.. He told me that it was a cursed ring.. either for u or for none.. " I reached inside my pocket and place an old box on the table. The color of the box cloth had faded in all those years..
"Why ..... why didn't he come to me.. I would have loved him just the same.. I would have... "
" He looked at your photograph and read your letters again and again and again.. till he could read no more, see no more, breath no more .. He was in love with your gleeful laughter Maureen, only and only the laughter ... "
"Did he think I would laugh after he disappeared .... ?? " anger, betrayal.. and more anger...\
"No, Living make memories.. you hope to see them again.. accidentally... but death..its the real end.. no more chances of lucky co-incidences... and you laughed , didn't you? when u married and had children.. when your child uttered his first word and took his first step.. "

Maureen didn't say anything.. She quietly went inside ... i walked myself out .. she needed time... she needed a lot of time.. to look at the box I had left on the table.. and the ring inside.. then may be , one day she would even want to see her Sailor so I left the address of his resting place inside the box ..


P.S: Someone read 'The last letter' and wrote the other side of story.. I edited it and here it is. THANK YOU 'AA' for this :) 

My naked soul

It is hurting my fingers to hold the pen and scribble these words... I don't know if you would see the tear stains all over this parchment but if u don't , then take my word for it... they are right here.. so many tiny blots smearing the ink..
Have you,now, looked closely to find those marks and have you touched the paper to feel the dampness ..Just in this moment, have you wished desperately to see my tear streaked cheeks or my red eyes? Your fingers, do they twitch when you try to touch my face in your imagination and it does not materialize into reality? Oh what agony .. Oh what pain.
Is it breaking you heart to read this? I hope it is ...because I long to hear the sound of your heart shattering like a glass in hundred thousand pieces..

I hope that for one whole second every cell in your body defies you.

I hope all wind gets knocked out of your body .. 

I hope you witness the death for one moment and put all your energies in staying alive.. one more second to live .. one more glance at me..
Only then you would know how I felt.. Only that moment will unite us.. make us One..
 ..You will see how agony spreads in your body when you are not understood. All the time, when I was trying anxiously to connect to you..You were there.. in front of my eyes.. so close.. you saw me.. my beautiful eyes and my lips... 

My lips but not my words ....

My eyes but never my tears...

My body but not once my naked soul...

You chose to love the lifeless figure.. a sculpture, a beautiful painting.. You loved me with all your heart but say My Beloved, how is it that you never saw my thriving soul? 

The last letter

My Dear Sailor, 

   
I often wondered what would it be like to write to you, for the last time? Trust me , all the emotions that rushed to me then, are nowhere in sight now. I am not overwhelmed, nor am i trying hard to silence my sobs. On the contrary, I am sitting and writing to you, calm as a sea. I don't exactly remember the number of times I have written to you.. it must be in hundreds, i suppose. I miss that dreamy feeling, though. 
Ah apologies,  this is not how a lady should start her letter. I must greet you first. So tell me darling, how have you been? Away from the city lights, in the chaotic oceans.. How have you been, distanced from the longing of an aching heart? 
Tell me Sailor, does it still excite you, the going away?And do you still keep it a secret .. when are you leaving or where... or do you now let her in on your secrets? 
puft! pardon me. I am off the track again. I am not here to remind you of how you used to be..  I am here to talk about how I used to be  ... 

Every time you told me about your ‘classified voyages'. I always looked at this picture. 

It seemed most appropriate .This picture was my thousand words. But  I could never muster up enough courage to give you the picture or to say those thousand words. Our lives together, was almost like being on opposite sides in a desert. There was a vacuum of silence between us, engulfing us.  In the summer of 96, the day you told me that you were leaving, I could somehow feel you slipping through my fingers. I dont know how or why, but it sounded like the final good bye. 
Your voice still rings in my ear.. heavy with unsaid emotions, your words laden with moisture from your eyes, your broken rhythm .. I wanted to touch your hand Sailor and I wanted to cry .. with you. 'Have faith...' my insides shrieked. But instead, I just let you go. 
It was a very bad time, trust me, because I had only just now started to trust you. I had started to embrace the fall but the tiredness in your voice sliced my heart. I realized that the sweetness of the words that i had in store for none but you, would drown you. It dawned upon me that I, may have overrated a few phone calls.
Is it that you fell out of love with me? Did you see me too closely ... and thought you are not ready to risk your heart for this ..yet or maybe forever!?

If only you would know the longing in my heart, how one part of me still awaits and yearns to listen to your voice. How I dream of meeting you .. accidentally , round the corner of an old bookstore and sit down for a cup of coffee. I imagine listening to your version of this immature love story while the smoke from our coffee mugs form different shapes .. of us.. tangling and untangling.. slowly dissolving in the air. And when we leave after the sun has gone down in the sky, we realize that none of us touched the coffee mugs and its cold as ice now... just like the love between us.. 
However, the elder and mature part of me knows that this is not happening. May be, I took a bit too long to respond to you. After all, you were but a weak man, tired of waiting. Then, all of a sudden you became too busy... letting me know how bad it feels when your feelings are not reciprocated. Thank you for exposing me to this pain.

I am not trying to play a blame game here nor m i trying to prove that you are the beast . I am just trying to analyse the situation. What went wrong?

We had it all.. didn't we Sailor? A beginning neat as spring sprouting in summers in Himalaya, straight from glaciers.. Pure, clean, untouched, sacred… and yet we gave it up .. We were young , naive and so much in love. It puts a smile on my face even now.. after many many years .. I often wake up to a familiar tranquility .. the hush that stretched between us while we both waited for the other to speak... The vacuum was laden with emotions, do u remember Sailor? 
Have you kept my letters? .. I hope you have because 50 years from now people are going to want to read them .. and may be cry for the writer who was numb with affection for a guy who traveled all the time.. You were my Romeo, Sailor.  It just came back to me, just this instance while i am scribbling away my past, unburdening my heart.

It all got messed up… too bad. 

^ouch^

I sound almost apologetic throughout this letter or do I? I am swinging between emotions, you see. For the early part of all this , I was angry at you of course but over the years I have concluded that I was to be blamed equally. I had always been extra sensitive about how I was being treated. Unnaturally touchy about myself,which reflected in my demeanor. Whatever happened , I know it was not something gruesome,heart wrenching, shattering.. nothing that I regret... nothing that disgraced me.

I didn’t want to remember the broken image of yours,ever. You were the person who gave me something to smile about, the one who made me laugh and the one who waited for long hours so that I would speak, the one who made me feel loved, the one who forced my heart into trusting him, the one I, finally, wanted to confide in.. and the one who I wanted to be with.

So when the time came to let you go and move on, I made myself believe that if I see the good in people, it would help me increase the good in me. and you my darling were not good, but the best!  

I leave this here .. Even though a lot of memories are still untouched but You see, i am going round and round in circles, stating only that I loved you in as any ways as a human mind would decipher... Probably because that's the only memory I care about. That's the converging point of my past.. so i stop here... 

Take Care Sailor. Take care of yourself for it would pain my soul if you don't.

Always ... 
Maureen 

He received this letter on the day when the last  flower perished in his garden. 

where is the line?

Finally, in the 27th year of my life , a time has come where I have to revise my life. All of it; structure, relations, definitions, connections, concepts. everything.

More than anything, what actually is causing so much confusion is my own gender. Females and the femininity.

All my life, i have been that person who wanted to break free from the chains of traditions and I have fought tooth and nail for it. I still stand by all of that but .. yes there is a but involved here... it was different. it was more for the sake of social restrictions that were prevailing out of the fear of 'log kia kahien gey?' It was never for the sake of crossing lines. 

I am not writing this post for self praise. I realize that I am a nobody in the world order but I also believe that the individual's actions leave marks and others follow those marks. Sooner or later the popular trends propagate in the society , therefore becoming the new customs. So i do believe that when one of us crosses the line, others follow. Its like you leave a door open. 

Another aspect of this is also religious (lots of grunts and eye rolling expected) but just stop for a second and tell me : why? Why the grunts and eye rolling? why has the word 'religion' become so obnoxious for us? why do we think that there is a clash between our thoughts and ways and the religion? Is it because religion draws a line? Does the presence of a line makes us feel suffocated? 

I just read a post by some random girl on some random feminist page, who has now moved to Canada and reading about her story, more than anything, i felt sorry for her. She wrote about her private life where she mentioned that before going to Canada at the age of 19, she had almost a dozen sleeping partners but still felt very repressed because talking about premarital sex is a 'taboo' in Pakistani culture. Then she went further and praised the Canadian society which gave her so much freedom and blah blah. (19???? just 19!!)

Go on and tell me 'stop judging her' , ' its none of your business' ... correct! it isnt my business and trust me when I say that i dont even feel an ounce of obligation ( as a muslim or as a human) to tell her or other people with same choices, whether to do or not to do certain stuff. As a Muslim  my mantra for now is 

" Tumare liye tumara deen , mere liye mera Deen"

but what the hell girl? Get married, if you feel the need. but OH NO, God forbid, marriage is a  big NO!! Who gets married for the sake of having a sleeping mate, ryt? Or is it more like sleeping with one man for the rest of your life is whats itching you?

I do want to write about this problem that I very often now see around me . I want to get an answer to this urge of living like animals? Why must we not obey anyone but ourselves and more than our logic why do we want to be driven by our hormones? 

I want to know how is it OK to cheat on your family but cheating on your boyfriend would make you a horrible person?

I know , i sound very very non-feminist and some of the readers cant wait to throw me out of the sorority. I DONT CARE GIRLS. Some of our acts are disgusting, please admit it! 

I recently had a conversation with a very close friend and all through the time when we were supposedly resolving an issue, she kept saying things that justified 'her' and 'her' alone and all through that time I kept thinking that higher education does make it very easy for us to go to all the possible lengths to prove that we are right. We would even dismiss our own past self, disrespect it, abuse it to save our today's choice. Anything that makes crossing the limits legal. 

I believe in self control and i believe that one must always think rationally and logically. Sexuality shouldn't be a synonym for feminism. It never will be. So no matter how much butthurt you are getting from this post, the reality is that when you cross limits, you are basically not doing humanity any service. It not even all about religion (even though there are strong ties) It is about morality. Hadn't it been the case there wouldnt have specfic words in other languages for people with such random habits. 

I know that this post has a very annoyed and angry tone, that's because I am annoyed and angry. I am going through a transition in life where NOTHING is the same. I dont even recognize the people i have been living with so yea I need answers. I need to have explanations as to why everything has suddenly lost its meaning or was there never any meaning at all!?  Was it all an illusion?

Alamdar and Pari :)

Hey Alamdar, do you ever notice me when you walk past me every morning in office? I try to throw my most charming smile in response to your greeting.  When you sit on your desk concentrating hard on the work , I touch your hand in my imagination and just as this thought crosses my mind, you frown. Those moments, when you exasperatedly unbutton your cuffs and fold them upwards, revealing your strong muscles for weak hearts like mine to see, I can actually feel my cheeks heating up. You put my heart in rhythmic anemia. How cruel! I dance around you in my dreams Alamdar. I walk with you hand in hand by the side of The Holy River Euphrates only that in my mind it flows amidst the desert of Cholistan. I close my eyes and bribe an angel to wipe your name off the Loh and put it nowhere but beside my name and seal it. I dream of forging my fate.

Oh Pari, do you really think I am as naïve as I pose? How can your deep eyes, following me all around, go unnoticed?  There are times when I struggle to not look up from the paper under the heat of your glare and then I frown.  I secretly enjoy that greedy look in your eyes when you see me, rolling my sleeves up.  I glance at you and you are lost in your thoughts.  I wonder if I am walking with you in your dream.  The moments when you are occupied in the work, I want to pull u up from your chair and swirl you round and round until you can think of nothing and no one except me. Your name holds so much magic, I often fear that I’d be forever under its spell. Your innocence makes me want to steal a peek at my future to see whether it has what my heart desires the most?

I blame women!

When I was young, I was really very stupid and the for that I blame the women in my life!
They had set examples and trends that became my concepts and from the moment I started to gain personal experiences in life, my concepts landed me in strange and awkward situations. Many a times, I had been blindsided by the preconceived ideas about people, relations and life as a whole.
I saw my mother busily working through the day, taking care of everything and everyone except herself so i developed the sense of selflessness to the point that I never took care of myself and always kept myself in the bottom of my priority list because that was what I had seen!
I listened to my relatives trash talking about their wives and the other women listening and accepting their views and I developed the sense of intimidation. I accepted it as a reality that it is ok for men to tarnish your image and degrade you , if and when they are angry.
I was told to be on my toes when my uncles visited or my father came late or if my brothers needed anything, no matter what time it was so i learnt that I was not as important as they were. Their needs were above mine.
All around me, the faces of the women told the same story " Men will always be like this, so endure, endure, endure"

I used to read the famous 'love-struck' novels in monthly digests and developed a totally unnatural notion of how love should be. All those moments where the male characters dominated the female (physically or emotionally) were termed as the 'romantic' moments which should have been seen as nothing but pure harassment.
Every time,  when I look back and see what reading a typical female author had done to me as an adolescent girl, i feel aghast.
I distinctly remember one of the most embarrassing times of my life in 9th Grade, when our English language teacher, Mrz Zulqurnain ( who was a brilliant lady retired from Burn Hall and an avid traveler) started a discussion on the topic of " My Ideal" and I talked about "Azan Shah" - my new crush from some stupid novel... The quality I deemed very attractive was the way he was extremely "possessive" about the girl he loved. I couldn't see it at that time but today I can tell that the look on her face was of  'shock' blended with something that looked a lot like disgust !
But what did she know of us, typical Pakistani girls, who had mothers naive and  ingenuous to never tell us :"Darling, there are no knights in shining armors. No Azan Shahs and no Salar Sikandars but its you, through and through, sole responsible for keeping the light alive in your eyes and fire burning in your heart. Little one, you must dance away to the the rhythm of the life and if, God forbid, you hear no music then dance to the beating of your heart but dance you must! "

This is what reading Urdu literature does to you. I mean the guy was psychotic but what else to expect of a 14/15 year old girl except dreamy eyes and missing heartbeats?

So, on and on it went Until one day, it dawned upon me that I have allowed the medieval  thinking take the best of me and so i shunned them .. and gradually let my true colors take over. But could I have done it on my own? It was my mother.. the lady behind the transformation. I reckon with the passage of time she became aware of how unfairly she had been treated and how for granted her efforts were taken. It must be hard for her to imagine her girls meeting the same  fate.

Today, when the world is calling out to men and women to be 'Feminists' in their approach, I realize that more than men, its women who need to change the way they see themselves. Why should the concept of romanticism be attached with dominance instead of equality, respect and freedom? Why should a woman's wings be clipped because it will feed some man's ego? Why must woman change to keep a relation with man going? Why must the harassment, bullying and abuse be endured by women so that the ratio of divorces remains low? Why are household chores a responsibility for women and a stigma for men?
Women do have power. They raise the men who shape the society because after all, it is a male dominating society and this fact is not going to change anytime soon. They also raise the daughters who are strong and willful naturally but are raised to be submissive and inferior. Thus , what women must do is educate themselves and change their ways of how they see the world and how they want to see so that coming generations don't blame them as much as I do!

Hide and seek.

"Do you ever feel like you are stuck in a gigantic swirl of a tornado and it's going round and round?The motion is so fast and painful and even when your whole body is screaming and begging it to stop, its not stopping, because its a tornado and tornadoes don't listen!!"

Contrary to her words, it was peaceful everywhere. The grayish sky with a tinge of pinkish glow, the sound of birds returning home, rustling of leaves whenever a little wind blew... definitely peaceful.!
The air was chilly , but the blue cardigan and hot  mug of tea was making up for the cold.
While writing her diary, she wasn't crying, wasn't even complaining. She was merely stating the fact. The current condition of her, which was so obviously hidden and sounded like an apologetic lie whenever she voiced it to the people who she thought might care.
They did though. They were good people but she wanted more. Something fulfilling, something thrist quenching... For some parts of the day, her desperation was so overwhelming that her whole self almost seemed to succumb to it. She wanted to flush out all the responsibilities and just be herself.
She, the way she was.. The no-strings-attached she!

"Too long the life has played. Ain't it my turn yet? but do I have it in me to play, if i get a chance? I want the life to be with me on the same team. Enough of the hide and seek now. " She put her blue fountain pen down on the book , rested her head on the high back of her favorite sofa and closed her eyes.


Oh boy, did the fate had a good laugh over this !

 " You poor poor soul ... " the fate nodded its head and whispered. "Its only the beginning. The good part is yet to come..... "

At the same moment, she felt a pang in her heart. She opened her eyes instantly and looked around. Everything seemes as normal as 5 seconds ago.
"What was this then?" she wondered! "What's fate upto now!?" she thought bitterly.

"A lot!!" Fate grinned, 

The liquid Life.

In the dead silence of the room, the only sound was the faint dripping. He lay there motionless, focusing on the red trail of liquid life.

His presence at the hospital was accidental; a mischief of the fate. Looking closely at the bag that was slowly filling up, he murmured softly: Blood.

Blood; that is an oxygen circulating fluid that. Cell to cell it delivers nutrients and oxygen, giving away the gift of life. With RBCs , that carry oxygen, WBCs to fight infections and Plasma to help clotting, it is a fascinating liquid that travels silently through our veins each second of the day and yet goes unnoticed, most of the time taken for granted.

“Blood is the Santa Claus of cells.” His nanny had told her.

How many of us consider sending a silent prayer any time in the day for the flow of bloodin our bodies? Healthy blood !!

 Imagine for a moment that the blood stops cold in your body, for a minute only. Oh you couldn’t imagine that, could you? Most probably because you were dead.

But not him. He had known the importance of blood from the moment his conscious had started to work. He lost his mother to it. He learnt that he was an orphan in a very early stage of his life. The time other children spent in playing, he used to sit and wonder how his life would be different if his mother were still alive.

“How did she die?” he asked his nanny. He was 5 at that time.

“well, baby… the doctors couldn’t find blood for her.”

“why?” he asked in amazement. “there is so much blood in the world. Everyone has it. Why didn’t they give it to my mommy?”

“Oh poor baby” His nanny hugged him tight because she couldn’t think of any answer.

When he turned 18, he found that he had a passion for engineering but an obsession with blood. He didn’t want to be a doctor but he wanted to associate himself with giving relief to people. Every day he saw hundreds of people walking in and out of the hospital with a million problems.

It was definitely a mischief of the fate. He was walking past the busy street across the hospital when a boy , his own age, rushed towards him and asked “Are you O+?”  For a moment, he was blank and then he spluttered out “Yes. But why…” He couldn’t finish his sentence because of the overwhelming response. That was the first time he ever donated blood.

It had been 5 years since then. He found the way to contribute to saving lives without being a doctor. He had found the way to connect to other people and touch their lives in a beautiful unorthodox way. The WHO slogan “paint the world red” became the tagline of his life. He indulged into social cause and made it his life’s mission to motivate and encourage people to donate healthy blood after learning that 800 mothers around the globe die in pregnancy, childbirth or following childbirth with 99 percent in developing countries. Severe blood loss accounts for 31 percent of mothers' deaths in Asia. (WHO Report)

He never wanted another child to be raised motherless. One time, a young man came to him whose wife he had given blood to and said “Brother, thank you for saving my life.”

He replied with a smile. “I saved my own!” and echoes through his ears, the divine voice:

“Because of that, We decreed upon the Children of Israel that whoever kills a soul unless for a soul or for corruption [done] in the land - it is as if he had slain mankind entirely. And whoever saves one - it is as if he had saved mankind entirely. And our messengers had certainly come to them with clear proofs. Then indeed many of them, [even] after that, throughout the land, were transgressors.”  (Surah Al Maida. Verse:5:32)

On this World Donor’s Day, let’s make a vow to donate healthy blood to the people in need and become related to the people not by culture or religion but by blood!!

Tasweer aur Manzar

Ajeeb fitrat hai hum insanoon ki.. na qadri ..
Najane saari zindagi kia dhondte rehte hain? Kissi afsane k saach hone ka khuwab dekhte hain, kiss anhoni key liye betab rehte hain. 'Mohabbat' kerna chahte hain magar saari umer kissi ishare k intezar men ganwa dete hain.
Yun lagta hai jaise hum har cheez ko bohat qareeb se dekhtey hain. Itna ky hamari nazar men bus wo ik cheez, chahe kitni hi choti kiun na ho, sama jati hai.
Ik gehri saans ley key, 2 qadam peeche hatt k manzar ko dekhne ki koshish karuen to shayd jan paaen ky manzar men hamari soch se ziada vusat hai..

Gulab k phool ki talash men umer ganwae wala , kabhi yeh dekh ley k wo kanwal k phooloon se bhare talaab men zindagi guzar raha tha to apni bewakoofi pe khud ko jee bhar k kosey.

Sehra men rehne wale ko samnadar ki hirs men ,nakhlistan nahi chorna chaeye.
Jungle mien chalne waloon ko abshar se mohabbat ka saleeqa hona chae, na ky seedhi rah ki talash.
Baraf Posh paharoon pe baseera kerne waloon ko allaao ki qadar kerni chae, na ky sahil ki tamana.


Mujhe nahi maloom ky men shera men hun ya kissi barf posh pahar pey likin yeh to tey hai k men zindagi men un cheexun k peeche bhag rahi thi jo meri rah men rakhi hi nahi gaen. mien kissi aur ki zindagi pe nazrien jama ky apna safar teh ker rahi thi..
Najane kitne kanwal, gulab ki havs men nazar andaz ker aii hun.
Najane kitne allaao roshan they , jin ki hidat ko sahil ki talash men, mene mehsus hi nahi kia.

Ab men rukna chahti hun, thehrna chahti hun..
Ik gehri sans le k , apni jaga se 2 qadam peeche hatna chahti hun . ..
Men tasweer ko nahi, porey manzir ko dekhna chahti hun...  

You will ..

deep, dark, angry, hurt
words that describe me the best
every time i respond, i do it with curt
one slip and i might fail another test...

it sounds so sensible inside my head
all my wisdom, all my words
shut up already , will you? they say
and drown them in shame by the herds

is it still me? i wonder
disheveled and pushed against the wall
through the time,, and again , i ponder
i walked once, and now i crawl

stop, breath!!
listen to the rhythm of your heart
wait for some time, my dear one
it will come to you.. a fresh , new start!

smile through the misery
let the light slay the dark
its soon that you will
find the lost glory, find the lost spark!

تم ناراض ہو!

  تمھاری کالی آنکھوں میں آنسو یوں دکھتا ہے جیسےکالے آسمان پہ چمکتا قطب ستارہ ۔۔ 
اور اگر تم ان آنسووٗں بھری آنکھوں سے کسی کو دیکھ لو تو اس طلسم کے توڑ میں 
  اسکی زندگی بیت جائے مگرمکمل اثر زائل نہ ہو۔ 
تمھارےچہرے پہ پھیلی اداسی ایبٹ آباد کی یاد دلاتی ہے جہاں ایک پل کو دھوپ ہوتی ہے اور اگلے ہی لمحےکالی گھٹا یوں سورج کو ڈھانپ لیتی ہے کہ اندر تک اداسی چھا جاتی ہے۔ تمھاری اداسی بھی میرے اندر تک چھا جاتی ہے۔ 
روٹھتی ہو تو یوں لگتا ہے جیسے اب کبھی نہ مانو گی۔ شکایتی نظروں سے دیکھتی ہو تو دنیا بھول کر انسان بس اک نگاہ کا ہو کر رہجاتا ہے۔
یوں تو تمھاری ناراضگی چند پھولوں کے آگے دو پل میں دم توڑ جاتی ہے مگر وہ دو پل بھی صدیوں پہ محیط ہوتےہیں۔ 
سنو تم ناراض نہ ہوا کرو۔ وقت، موسم، محبت، زندگی سب ادھورے لگنے لگتے ہیں۔ 
کبھی کہہ کر تو دیکھو، تمھاری مسکراہٹ کے لیے دشت و صحرا کی خاک چھاننا بھی قبول ہے۔ 
کاش، میرے اندر گونجتی یہ آواز تم سنو تو ہر بات بھول کر حیرت سے مجھےدیکھو۔۔۔ پھر میں ہاتھ بڑھا کر تمھارا گال نرمی سے چھو لوں اور تمھارے اندر کی تمام اداسی اپنی ہتھیلی میں بھر لوں۔۔
!کاش

Stories from my mind, heart and soul!: my lost Elsa

Stories from my mind, heart and soul!: my lost Elsa: "I hv lost my Elsa."  She said after a while. I Looked at her intently, waiting for her to continue. she looked very calm for som...

my lost Elsa

"I hv lost my Elsa."  She said after a while. I Looked at her intently, waiting for her to continue. she looked very calm for someone who has had so much bottled up inside. She said nothing for a long time.
"How?"  I asked quietly. She looked at me with blank eyes for about 3 seconds and then as if she suddenly remembered the topic of discussion, replied to me. "There was a storm. Kind of tsunami. It wasn't unexpected but it was bigger than we had thought. Much bigger and stronger. We were holding hands. Me n Elsa. I was holding her hand really tight. You see she was very dear to me. But when the storm hit us hard I realized that She was holding someone elses' hand too."
She looked at me like she expected me to be surprised, so i faked the surprise and made a small o with my mouth. She seemed to be happy that I am following the exact emotions. She continued "Yeah she was and it was dragging us down. So i tried to tell her that she should let go. It was mere baggage, i knew. Elsa was in habit of dragging extra baggage. But she refused to let go. The storm was very rough, we both were numb. I remember being tired. Very tired. There is a chunk i dont exactly remember because i think i had dozed off. I felt so light, it occurred to me that Elsa might have let the other hand go. I felt so light and happy." The memory of that time spread across hr face and i could tell that each word of hers was true.
"What happened next?"i couldn't keep curiosity out of my voice.
"well" her voice was distant. " I guess I woke up one day to see that she was still holding the other hand and all of a sudden i realized that i am not floating anymore. I was drowning and choking and i couldn't breath. I looked at Elsa and i thought maybe she will see it this time but she was so calm, so unconcerned and that was when i realized that she will never let go of the other on my accord." She hung her head down for a while but only for a while. She looked so sad and dejected that i started to feel sorry for her. But when she looked up she had a light in her eyes.
"Didn't you request her again?" I asked eagerly.
"No. I knew it was a lost cause so i let go. I let go of her hand even though I wasn't sure whether she or i will survive that. "
"Have you?"
"I dnt know. I havnt found a shore yet. I am lost in an ocean but at least  no one is dragging me down nor am i. I do have rough patches though where i barely make it but m here...aren't i?
"Dont u miss Elsa?" Somehow it made me sad.
"I do." She said with impatience. "Of course i do. I stumble a lot and whenever i do, i miss her th most because i used to reach out for her. I miss everything but i try to cherish that time rather than getting upset over it."
" Will you be ok?"
"Of course i will be. We all learn to live. I will too.maybe it will take sometime but hey whose counting, right?" she laughed cheerfully.
"DO u know what Fitzgerald said, doctor? HE said 'there are all kinds of love in this world but never the same love twice."
She was smiling. I couldn't say anything. She gave me a lesson, unknowingly.
Bell rang. The session was over.

تمھیں خبر یے؟

نومبر کی یخ بستہ شام میں گرم اونی شال لپیٹے، گھٹنوں تک کمبل اوڑھے برآمدے میں راکنگ چیئر پہ بیٹھی کتاب پڑھتی یہ ملائم سی جلد والی ، جس کے چہرے پہ تازگی اور مسکان میں شگفتگی ہے ۔ ۔ ۔ تم ہو
!!
تم جو اپنی سنہری آنکھوں پہ چشمہ لگائے ، لس دقیق سی کتاب میں نجانے کون سے زمانے کے افسانے پڑھتی ہو ، کن گمشدہ رازوں کو کریدتی ہو۔ تم جو بے دھیانی میں اپنی الجھی ہوئی لٹوں کو انگلیوں کے گرد لپیٹتی ہو اور کبھی اپنی بھنووں کو ترچھا تو کبھی سکیڑ لیتی ہو۔۔ تمھہں خبر ہے کہ تم کیا کرتی ہو؟
سردی سے لال ہوتی تمھاری یہ ناک ۔ ۔ تمھارا دھواں اڑاتا کافی کا مگ، جس کی خوشبو چرا کے ہوا چاروں دشاوں تک لے جا رہی ہے۔ تمھیں خبر ہے کہ تمھارے وجود کی مہک کہاں کہاں گل کھلا رہی ہے؟
جھیل کنارے بیٹھا کوئی چرواہا تمھاری ہنسی کو رباب کی دھن میں ڈھالتا ہو گا تو ایک زمانہ محو رقص ہوتا ہو گا۔۔ تمھارے وجود کی چاندنی سے اندھیری رات میں بھٹکتے جگنو رستہ تلاش کرتے ہوں گے۔ ۔  مگر تم کیا جانو۔ ۔ یہ پیراہن ہوا کے ہاتھ آسمان کے لیے کیسے کیسے رنگ بھیجتا ہے۔ ۔ آسمان تشکراْ تمارے رخساروں پہ کیسی لالی اتارتا ہے ۔ ۔ تمیں کیا خبر اہل دل کس بے بسی سے تمہیں دیکھتے اور تمہاری نظر اتارتے ہیں۔
اور میں، میں جو کینوس پہ بارہا تمھاری تصویر بناتا ہوں کہ شاید میرا ہنر تمھارے حسن سے انصاف کر پائے ۔ ۔
کاش کہ تمہیں خبر ہو، اس سے پہلے کہ وقت کی خزاں روپہلے سپنوں کی بہار پہ چھا جائے اور اس سے پہلے کہ انتظار کی حد زندگی کی مہلت سے بڑھ جائے۔ ۔ کاش کہ تمہیں خبر ہو۔ ۔ ۔