Sadness is a natural process. It is a part of life that is undeniable and is something that is mandatory to happen in every human life. But it shouldn’t be like that.
Some people just are not meant to be sad….
Some people are just to be manicured and pedicure with happiness even if it costs you insane.
When water shines in her eyes and she sniffs, the world looks a darker, griever place.
Sadness is not her forte even if it makes her look the tragic princesses which leave you heartbroken.
She pronounces fun and instills in you extravagance of flair and makes you feel worth it.
Her difference of perception is addictive.
A date for me now is no more a thought of serenity, sea and candle night. It’s fast paced, moving, comical and cute. You will be driven mad when you speak and she gazes outside smiling and being completely engrossed at absolutely nothing, and the very next moment you are swept away as she looks in to your eyes and has that quizzical look for which you can kill for.
And that leaves you addicted.
Her clichéd use of sentences is highly adorable. “I don’t know, Deal with it, and Shut up!” are the norms that makes you smile and make her blush.
I am obsessed by her presence in a very warm and way. She needs to be happy and lively for me to remain calm and soothing.
Am I getting too occupied with her? May be I am but is there any other better thing to do in this world. I guess not.
So sadness please hush away you are never welcomed on her door steps and even if you do come around I am on guard.
It is only a coat of varnish but it is all that completes the color.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Muffled Laughter
I always need inspiration to write, to create to do work, I’m a highly dependent person. I like to react rather than be proactive, that’s just how the world normalizes for me. Or I thought so…
I have an inspiration now…
An inspiration so true, so serene and so beautiful that I cannot help resist the presence, the aura that is circulating her.
Not many people are so gifted. She is amongst those very few. She can have you engaged to her for endless amount of hours and also have you short of breath from the aura she radiates. To say that I’m compelled and taken totally out of my comfort zone with her around is a total understatement.
My thought patterns are mostly immaculate and are in sync with logic. She has erupted all of this out of proportion.
I now feel like a child who’s aligned with fiction. Who gropes at things and associates them with fantasy. She mystifies situations. She smiles and gives happiness a total new meaning. The twinkling eyes remind me of the serene calm sea on which light suspends and shimmers playfully. She restores my believe in the fact that this world is a montage of excitement, happiness and love.
She pulsates on sensitivity. She thinks infinite and she loves pampering. She makes you feel indulged as champagne, she delights you and have you wanting for more. Her immaculate antics do not irritate you but have you worried. She taunts your thoughts which do not make you sad but have you thinking and adopting to her perceptions.
She is not a blonde and thank god for that.
Her intelligence permeates all through her and her grip of the moment leaves you dazed. She glows like the dawn breaking out of the mountains and have you dumbfounded.
For the last week she says I make her happy and make her forget her issues. To say I’m honored and flattered justifies my lack of vocabulary of the language.
She would be reading this and would be blushing as she meanders through this non coherent gathering of words.
And that just makes this vagueness shine.
I won’t be the Romeo to sing couplets to the Juliet. But to have her twinkling with muffled laughter is good enough to have this world smile.
So who is she? She is you who reads…
I have an inspiration now…
An inspiration so true, so serene and so beautiful that I cannot help resist the presence, the aura that is circulating her.
Not many people are so gifted. She is amongst those very few. She can have you engaged to her for endless amount of hours and also have you short of breath from the aura she radiates. To say that I’m compelled and taken totally out of my comfort zone with her around is a total understatement.
My thought patterns are mostly immaculate and are in sync with logic. She has erupted all of this out of proportion.
I now feel like a child who’s aligned with fiction. Who gropes at things and associates them with fantasy. She mystifies situations. She smiles and gives happiness a total new meaning. The twinkling eyes remind me of the serene calm sea on which light suspends and shimmers playfully. She restores my believe in the fact that this world is a montage of excitement, happiness and love.
She pulsates on sensitivity. She thinks infinite and she loves pampering. She makes you feel indulged as champagne, she delights you and have you wanting for more. Her immaculate antics do not irritate you but have you worried. She taunts your thoughts which do not make you sad but have you thinking and adopting to her perceptions.
She is not a blonde and thank god for that.
Her intelligence permeates all through her and her grip of the moment leaves you dazed. She glows like the dawn breaking out of the mountains and have you dumbfounded.
For the last week she says I make her happy and make her forget her issues. To say I’m honored and flattered justifies my lack of vocabulary of the language.
She would be reading this and would be blushing as she meanders through this non coherent gathering of words.
And that just makes this vagueness shine.
I won’t be the Romeo to sing couplets to the Juliet. But to have her twinkling with muffled laughter is good enough to have this world smile.
So who is she? She is you who reads…
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Imagine I Must!
I love to day-dream. I just love to imagine, reverie and sketch fiction.
For me, Clouds were always the “Kingdom of Ice” at war with the blazing “Empire of Fire”, the sun. A mountain was where “God lived” and a waterfall was His drink.
Imagination is such a powerful tool. It draws clarity from the bizarre. It gives you the power of infinity. It helps you to draw a rainbow out of one single color.
And now I realize that why I don’t attract people to me. It’s obvious! I’m horribly boring and illusory. I’m sure I am not far away for being dubbed as the lunatic-who-no-one knows.
Most of the times, it will not agitate me. I concur to that. I choose to be that way.
But now reality has sunk in. Somehow happiness is what I cannot imagine.
I’m giving in to lure and dependency. I feel desperate. I feel not me.
I need to imagine again, I need to re-invent my thoughts.
I still need to imagine mountains where “God lives”, not where she is flogged and he is slaughtered.
For me, Clouds were always the “Kingdom of Ice” at war with the blazing “Empire of Fire”, the sun. A mountain was where “God lived” and a waterfall was His drink.
Imagination is such a powerful tool. It draws clarity from the bizarre. It gives you the power of infinity. It helps you to draw a rainbow out of one single color.
And now I realize that why I don’t attract people to me. It’s obvious! I’m horribly boring and illusory. I’m sure I am not far away for being dubbed as the lunatic-who-no-one knows.
Most of the times, it will not agitate me. I concur to that. I choose to be that way.
But now reality has sunk in. Somehow happiness is what I cannot imagine.
I’m giving in to lure and dependency. I feel desperate. I feel not me.
I need to imagine again, I need to re-invent my thoughts.
I still need to imagine mountains where “God lives”, not where she is flogged and he is slaughtered.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
The Tramp
Charlie Chaplin would arguably be one of the finest actors that Hollywood is yet to produce.His depiction of the Tramp is a work of a genius. He managed to make people laugh at themselves; he depicted us and made us realize how stupid the human race is. He danced, he tripped, he laughed, he cried, all his acts patronized us and made us laugh with all his tragedies. Life is such a contradiction. Your misery is my happiness; my struggle is your ease.
So Charles Chaplin did what are leaders are doing today. They make me laugh. They make me realize how stupid I am and how tragic they are.
Who said that you can’t laugh away at your wretchedness?
Enter: the Tramp.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
WHAT IF?
I wonder if bullets could think. The limited lethal life they have, what if they knew the purpose of their existence, what if they knew what deed they are carrying out. Once they leave their homes (guns), would they know what are they bringing to an end? Or what they are about to start? What if they could interpret the thin line of being an accomplice to the righteous martyrs, or harboring terrorists?
It is a combustible life they have. They live to kill. As they pierce through a living soul, they damage the intended target by tissue or mechanical disruption through impact or penetration.
And this is just a part of the story.
They dysfunction a whole family. They bring an end to a process; they replace life, its joys with death, sadness and anger.
They just do not penetrate flesh, they penetrate life. They question Gods justice and proclaim evil.
What if they knew all of this? What would they do? Would they retreat? Would they seize what have they set out to do? Or what they act like us? Just breathe a sigh of relive and carry on?
Am I getting too desperate?
Maybe I am. I just cannot relate optimism to human beings. We architect are own disasters and then feast on our miseries.
We kill, we sympathize, we inquire, we blame and then… we kill again.
How do we categorize rationality? We ask God to help us kill His men! Which part of religion are we following? Who gave us the right to eliminate life processes?
Frankly I don’t see us changing.Maybe its time I go back to my desperate thinking… what if bullets could think?
It is a combustible life they have. They live to kill. As they pierce through a living soul, they damage the intended target by tissue or mechanical disruption through impact or penetration.
And this is just a part of the story.
They dysfunction a whole family. They bring an end to a process; they replace life, its joys with death, sadness and anger.
They just do not penetrate flesh, they penetrate life. They question Gods justice and proclaim evil.
What if they knew all of this? What would they do? Would they retreat? Would they seize what have they set out to do? Or what they act like us? Just breathe a sigh of relive and carry on?
Am I getting too desperate?
Maybe I am. I just cannot relate optimism to human beings. We architect are own disasters and then feast on our miseries.
We kill, we sympathize, we inquire, we blame and then… we kill again.
How do we categorize rationality? We ask God to help us kill His men! Which part of religion are we following? Who gave us the right to eliminate life processes?
Frankly I don’t see us changing.Maybe its time I go back to my desperate thinking… what if bullets could think?
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Doosry Manzil (Sit Down Comedy)
This is Mirza Bilal.
The Bloke I organized "Sit Down Comedy" with somewhere in the middle of January.
The Bloke I organized "Sit Down Comedy" with somewhere in the middle of January.
The Great Divide
“So how many Quranic Chapters do you people have?” asked my friend.
“Huh? They were thirty last time I checked”.
But they are now! You lot had forty previously did’t you?
Ah what???
Exactly! The last ten chapters of your Quran have been eaten by the goat right?
Oh yea? Well… Thank you goat! You made me a Muslim!
Accusations of such genius sorts are more hilarious than offending you know. But most of us lack the competency to think above, to think rationally. It is one of the pivotal aspects of our society that has never made us the ‘brothers’ we ought to be.
The great divide between the two major sects of our religion has always hindered our thoughts and customs. Slogans of Shia Kafir! And the Ridicule of the Caliphs has been a bone of contention and thorn in our florescent Islamic society.
Why cant we opt to keep religion has a personal choice? Why is that we fail to understand the difference between ‘being judged’ and ‘be the judge’?
Religion is freedom. Freedom to think, to act, to live through a code of conduct that you should opt to choose and once you have done that you should ought to respect what others believe in. To agree to disagree with harmony and peace should be cardinal to the essence of our society.
It’s easier said then done. We host a religion that is molded and shaped by our culture. We value our ancestral customs and norms more than our religion.
I can easily recall the tantrums my mum had to face when she disapproved of a ritual that is commonly followed in Shia Islam. Accusations and thoughts like “it’s been there since ages” almost made her strongly contemplate her zealous endeavors.
A culture-dominated religion tends to mingle the logical and the absurd in such a profound way that you find it difficult to discriminate between the ‘sublime and the ridiculous’.
The religion is simple which makes it an efficient catalyst to harbor illogical, absurd extreme practices which creates animosity, hatred and a feeling of “they and them” as oppose to “we and us”.
These times are tough, we have clashing civilizations, we need to progress, we need to be together. It’s high time now that we practice patients and rationale.
Let us brand ‘peace’ for once.Friday, February 13, 2009
From your Valentine
I’m sure we draw reality from fiction.
Just as Jerry Seinfeld would say “Spider-man, Super-man, Batman… these are not fantasizes… these are options…
I like to remember 14Th February because 15Th February is my kid-sis birthday.A good enough reason to remember Valentines Day eh?
Coming to Valentines Day, wiki says and I quote:
“Legenda Aurea still provides no connections whatsoever with sentimental love, appropriate lore has been embroidered in modern times to portray Valentine as a priest who refused an unattested law attributed to Roman Emperor Claudius II, allegedly ordering that young men remain single.
The Emperor supposedly did this to grow his army, believing that married men did not make for good soldiers.
The priest Valentine, however, secretly performed marriage ceremonies for young men. When Claudius found out about this, he had Valentine arrested and thrown in jail. In an embellishment to The Golden Legend, on the evening before Valentine was to be executed, he wrote the first "valentine" himself, addressed to a young girl variously identified as his beloved as the jailer's daughter whom he had befriended and healed, or both.”
It was a note that read…
"From your Valentine."
And since that day we have mourned his death in the most befitting way.
Maybe it would have made more sense if it was an “Anti-Gay Day”
Besides being a vindictive-single-guy-who-is renting-it-all-out, I in my sanity consider Valentines Day to be the most UN-intellect thing, the human race can come up with.
Do you really need a card or a gift or a what ever to prove your love. Can we be dumber? And what’s with the hearts? Who even came up with this shape? It reminds me of a sticky reddish flubber. The cupid is not even romantic… No wonder Michael Jackson lost his nuts and started slobbering over kids.
So this Saturday, when couples will be off wishing, exchanging, dating, and you know what, I will be off to Yes Mister for my weekend cup of tea… Alone. Sadly I am not the ‘fairer sex dream-dude’ and nor I choose “Clear men”.
Love has always been the white dress on the wrong girl.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Of Elephants and Ants
If you know the Urdu you should enjoy this…. If you do not.... then you better learn it!
(This bit of *genius* is a dedication to the *kid prodigy* no matter how much may hate them… you have to agree they work on nerves.)
Chunti (female-ant) hathni (female elephant) sey:
apney shohar (groom-elephant) ko samjaha lo key mujhe nae chairay!
Werna mard humaray ghar mein bhi hein….
Yeh naa ho baat khun kharabey tak phonch gae!
Chunta aur chunti bike per:
Samney sey hathi ata hai
(bike halts to a dead-stop!)
Chunti, driver -chuntay say:
KHUCHAL DALL SALAY KO!!!
One beetle-car, four elephants, how would they fit in?
Well two in the front two at the back! What did you think?
Chunti scampering at full throttle…
Kahan jaa rahi ho? Asks her friend
Oh hathi ka accident ho
I really need to sleep no?
Monday, February 9, 2009
The Land of the Pure
Me: hey dude
Devoted Muslim friend: don’t say ‘hey’; say, 'ASSALAM ALAIK KUM.'
Me: oh okay.
Devoted Muslim friend: (shakes his head in disgust) you know you are really going down the wrong path you know that?
Me: am I?
Devoted Muslim friend: Yes! How punctual are you with your Namaz?
Me: oh well I’m hardly offering prayers.
Devoted Muslim friend: (almost faints) you are doomed! Hell awaits you!
Me: oh dear…
Devoted Muslim friend: you better get your act straight. Devote your life to the Almighty.
Me: hmmm. Hey I don’t see your chowkidaar?
Devoted Muslim friend: oh Anis…. Well his son died… remember the Rains a week ago? Well our servant quarter does not have a proper ceiling and he was like 6 months old so... naturally. Dad has made sure though he gets through the grief… given him a few extra bucks…. khair Namaz pe challein? (Shall we go to pray?)
Me: hmm I think I will pass...
Devoted Muslim friend: You are doomed my friend! A time would come when God won’t help you either… you are so doomed...
Me: I wonder..
Friday, January 30, 2009
the word is "FUCK"
I’m in awe with this word. It defines reality to its core. The universality of this word is even far-reaching than its language. It’s equal for all, not rationalized for specifics. Even grammar of the English language is unable to bracket the famous curse; adverb, verb, noun, adjective….. You just cannot objectify the word and yet its meanings pertain to subjectivity…simple and real.
"The obscenity fuck is a very old word and has been considered shocking from the first, though it is seen in print much more often now than in the past. Its first known occurrence, in code because of its unacceptability, is in a poem composed in a mixture of Latin and English sometime before 1500. The poem, which satirizes the Carmelite friars of Cambridge, England, takes its title, "Flen flyys," from the first words of its opening line, "Flen, flyys, and freris," that is, "fleas, flies, and friars." The line that contains fuck reads "Non sunt in coeli, quia gxddbov xxkxzt pg ifmk." The Latin words "Non sunt in coeli, quia," mean "they [the friars] are not in heaven, since." The code "gxddbov xxkxzt pg ifmk" is easily broken by simply substituting the preceding letter in the alphabet, keeping in mind differences in the alphabet and in spelling between then and now: i was then used for both i and j; v was used for both u and v; and vv was used for w. This yields "fvccant [a fake Latin form] vvivys of heli." The whole thus reads in translation: "They are not in heaven because they fuck wives of Ely [a town near Cambridge]." (quoted from:The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition)
The rebellious nature of the word is appallingly obvious. If you bothered to go through the word history the blokes of the time tried to hide it within cryptograms and codes and what not. Yet it surfaced out magnificently. Repression always leads to aggressive outrage. We don’t need inspiring people to teach us that… a meager vulgar slang is enough.
No matter how tabooed it may be… you have to agree… it is fucking genius!
"The obscenity fuck is a very old word and has been considered shocking from the first, though it is seen in print much more often now than in the past. Its first known occurrence, in code because of its unacceptability, is in a poem composed in a mixture of Latin and English sometime before 1500. The poem, which satirizes the Carmelite friars of Cambridge, England, takes its title, "Flen flyys," from the first words of its opening line, "Flen, flyys, and freris," that is, "fleas, flies, and friars." The line that contains fuck reads "Non sunt in coeli, quia gxddbov xxkxzt pg ifmk." The Latin words "Non sunt in coeli, quia," mean "they [the friars] are not in heaven, since." The code "gxddbov xxkxzt pg ifmk" is easily broken by simply substituting the preceding letter in the alphabet, keeping in mind differences in the alphabet and in spelling between then and now: i was then used for both i and j; v was used for both u and v; and vv was used for w. This yields "fvccant [a fake Latin form] vvivys of heli." The whole thus reads in translation: "They are not in heaven because they fuck wives of Ely [a town near Cambridge]." (quoted from:The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition)
The rebellious nature of the word is appallingly obvious. If you bothered to go through the word history the blokes of the time tried to hide it within cryptograms and codes and what not. Yet it surfaced out magnificently. Repression always leads to aggressive outrage. We don’t need inspiring people to teach us that… a meager vulgar slang is enough.
No matter how tabooed it may be… you have to agree… it is fucking genius!
Monday, January 26, 2009
Two-One
It’s taking me weeks to update my blog and even now I’m talking about things that have happened awhile back. So what! I told you I was not here to entertain, hell its one place where you can all vent it out without the slightest ado.
So here I am gibberishing about the most important thing that culminated this month. My Birthday.
The Day I Turned Twenty One (15th January)
Birthdays are always supposed to be fun, and my 21st was certainly one!
I never thought it to be fun really. See I come across as this unbelievably boring, lethargic bloke that doesn’t fit into the normal world. Firstly I find it impossible to make friends… a literally do! It’s tough you know! I can roast a chicken at Everest but I just cannot make friends….finding me a retard already? I have just started…
So here I am who is absolutely fuming like a chimney reclusively over the goons at my “KidVERSITY”. (Now that’s a whole new story that I just don’t have the time or the heart to tell) as I lay that night skimming through the text messages for the umpteenth time (told you I do not fit),it occurred to me that I have a birthday tomorrow. So why not have the most subtle of birthday parties ever? It had to be subtle because firstly it was my birthday and secondly I just wanted to be with people who I knew cared for me as much I do for them
Step one; find these elusive individuals. Not hard MA and Ace (self-proclaimed, recently found that out ;)
Step two; how to invite? Simple. Text your teacher, she’s all ready(cool chic, I have to add) then text Ace (easier said than done, it took him the whole other morning to reply back, apparently he was asleep, hmm envious me!)
With all the procedures and logistics done, I drove away to pick Ace and MA up. We opted for COPPER KETTLE. MA was nice enough to buy me a cake from the adjacent bakery which was luscious to say the least.
COPPER KETTLE has a lot of serenity to it, quite contrary to the name of the dishes though. (Son of a botch, Runaway Chic to name a few that I could spell properly).
We settled ourselves to a nice warm place in the corner and chatter away. MA and Ace were mingling themselves into a laughable debate that was both hilarious and fun.
I still don’t develop feeling of such strong emotion and happiness other than seeing other people celebrate and feel happy, I’m not being modest truly I’m not! But somehow happiness to me now is subjective to others.
MA gave me book titled “The 100” and Ace gave me a…uhh hmm a cup I guess with HAPPY BIRTHDAY carved out.
I loved the food, the presents and the people, it sounds touchingly boring, but hey three can tango just as well as two.
I felt sad too, MA is off to Yemen with an electric guy, I wished she had opened up earlier and we would have had more of the socio-analytical-sarcastic humorish outings. The Snape-Lady is all Snape would have been had he lived.
Ace is this all boyish intellect fun that guys usually are, but what makes him differ is his ability to trust and laugh wholeheartedly. Nice bloke.
The food was fantastic, I loved my dish No89. (What was that again MA?). So like all evenings and nights, this too had to come to an end, and so it did. I dropped them home and went away to where I live, thoroughly happy and thoroughly changed.
You don’t really need Obama to change lives now do you?
So here I am gibberishing about the most important thing that culminated this month. My Birthday.
The Day I Turned Twenty One (15th January)
Birthdays are always supposed to be fun, and my 21st was certainly one!
I never thought it to be fun really. See I come across as this unbelievably boring, lethargic bloke that doesn’t fit into the normal world. Firstly I find it impossible to make friends… a literally do! It’s tough you know! I can roast a chicken at Everest but I just cannot make friends….finding me a retard already? I have just started…
So here I am who is absolutely fuming like a chimney reclusively over the goons at my “KidVERSITY”. (Now that’s a whole new story that I just don’t have the time or the heart to tell) as I lay that night skimming through the text messages for the umpteenth time (told you I do not fit),it occurred to me that I have a birthday tomorrow. So why not have the most subtle of birthday parties ever? It had to be subtle because firstly it was my birthday and secondly I just wanted to be with people who I knew cared for me as much I do for them
Step one; find these elusive individuals. Not hard MA and Ace (self-proclaimed, recently found that out ;)
Step two; how to invite? Simple. Text your teacher, she’s all ready(cool chic, I have to add) then text Ace (easier said than done, it took him the whole other morning to reply back, apparently he was asleep, hmm envious me!)
With all the procedures and logistics done, I drove away to pick Ace and MA up. We opted for COPPER KETTLE. MA was nice enough to buy me a cake from the adjacent bakery which was luscious to say the least.
COPPER KETTLE has a lot of serenity to it, quite contrary to the name of the dishes though. (Son of a botch, Runaway Chic to name a few that I could spell properly).
We settled ourselves to a nice warm place in the corner and chatter away. MA and Ace were mingling themselves into a laughable debate that was both hilarious and fun.
I still don’t develop feeling of such strong emotion and happiness other than seeing other people celebrate and feel happy, I’m not being modest truly I’m not! But somehow happiness to me now is subjective to others.
MA gave me book titled “The 100” and Ace gave me a…uhh hmm a cup I guess with HAPPY BIRTHDAY carved out.
I loved the food, the presents and the people, it sounds touchingly boring, but hey three can tango just as well as two.
I felt sad too, MA is off to Yemen with an electric guy, I wished she had opened up earlier and we would have had more of the socio-analytical-sarcastic humorish outings. The Snape-Lady is all Snape would have been had he lived.
Ace is this all boyish intellect fun that guys usually are, but what makes him differ is his ability to trust and laugh wholeheartedly. Nice bloke.
The food was fantastic, I loved my dish No89. (What was that again MA?). So like all evenings and nights, this too had to come to an end, and so it did. I dropped them home and went away to where I live, thoroughly happy and thoroughly changed.
You don’t really need Obama to change lives now do you?
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
MEIN KAMPF
NO. It’s not Hitler’s its mine…
If things were to have staged as they were meant to be, my life would have been a delight! But as clichéd in awkward holly-bollywood films, it was never meant to be. But unlike awkward holly-bollywood films, I would be the sole culprit who managed to tarnish the spectrum. To put it in a two-word common slang of today….”my bad”
Yes “my bad” it was that got my family to leave their beloved serenity in Islamabad and end up here in the hostilities of Karachi. You see, I was never the perfect kid for my parents. They dreamt of me as the kid that will make their heads held high in pride, someone who they can proudly relate to…. How badly mistaken they were…
At times when I look back at my great depression I realize that I had became a vulture; void of feelings, void of any belonging… all that matter to me was me…
I just wanted everything to revolve around me I was addicted to enjoy life as I wanted it to be at any cost whatsoever… lying, cheating and all the vices meant nothing to me… The way of the astray is always luring…
And then something happened…. The realization stemmed in… it was not dramatic, not tragic it was as nonchalant as I could ever imagine it to be…
We have this terrace at our house in Islamabad which has the most pristine and serene view you could ever imagine, the break of dawn or the setting of the sun from that terrace was the only natural feeling I had in those days…..that was the only time when I could see the sun without blinking…. The shades of orange had always intrigued me and always made me feel insecure for some reason… something always bothered me about the shades and travel of the biggest source of energy….
One break of dawn…. I had my answer… I had always been wrong… .And when you realize that.. There’s nothing worse, the epitome of guilt scratches away everything from your life you feel numb…. You feel insane…. Put it in medical… you are in clinical depression….
And that what I started to go through, clinical depression… my confessions to the people I love made no headway…. I felt the same…. How could I have faltered so badly?
It took me a year to reclaim rationality… but still the guilt sucks me in and makes me wish otherwise…
My life is mostly dark… yet I have shining things to hold on to..
Mahv,liz,tj were the light of my darkness… friends made out of sheer, blunt , freaky luck are one of the few things that can flicker a smile on my pale dark face..
My struggle thus continues for another time…
Tick-tock,tick-tock,tick-tock…..
If things were to have staged as they were meant to be, my life would have been a delight! But as clichéd in awkward holly-bollywood films, it was never meant to be. But unlike awkward holly-bollywood films, I would be the sole culprit who managed to tarnish the spectrum. To put it in a two-word common slang of today….”my bad”
Yes “my bad” it was that got my family to leave their beloved serenity in Islamabad and end up here in the hostilities of Karachi. You see, I was never the perfect kid for my parents. They dreamt of me as the kid that will make their heads held high in pride, someone who they can proudly relate to…. How badly mistaken they were…
At times when I look back at my great depression I realize that I had became a vulture; void of feelings, void of any belonging… all that matter to me was me…
I just wanted everything to revolve around me I was addicted to enjoy life as I wanted it to be at any cost whatsoever… lying, cheating and all the vices meant nothing to me… The way of the astray is always luring…
And then something happened…. The realization stemmed in… it was not dramatic, not tragic it was as nonchalant as I could ever imagine it to be…
We have this terrace at our house in Islamabad which has the most pristine and serene view you could ever imagine, the break of dawn or the setting of the sun from that terrace was the only natural feeling I had in those days…..that was the only time when I could see the sun without blinking…. The shades of orange had always intrigued me and always made me feel insecure for some reason… something always bothered me about the shades and travel of the biggest source of energy….
One break of dawn…. I had my answer… I had always been wrong… .And when you realize that.. There’s nothing worse, the epitome of guilt scratches away everything from your life you feel numb…. You feel insane…. Put it in medical… you are in clinical depression….
And that what I started to go through, clinical depression… my confessions to the people I love made no headway…. I felt the same…. How could I have faltered so badly?
It took me a year to reclaim rationality… but still the guilt sucks me in and makes me wish otherwise…
My life is mostly dark… yet I have shining things to hold on to..
Mahv,liz,tj were the light of my darkness… friends made out of sheer, blunt , freaky luck are one of the few things that can flicker a smile on my pale dark face..
My struggle thus continues for another time…
Tick-tock,tick-tock,tick-tock…..
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