A New Year's Eve!

5...4...3...2….1! Its new year, 2011 is here finally!

2011, with new hopes for some and resolutions for others.

Life lightens up for some or shines for others…but have you ever thought that for some it’s just another night which gets darker and gloomier with every passing second. For some its sheer obscurity with a tinge of salt from the tears they cry…the tears for the regrets they have earned, the tears which they cry with a hope to fade away the memories of 2010!

For some the beginning of a New Year is overshadowed by the ‘ending of 2010’. When others dance to their tunes and dream for the future, others just live in their past and sacrifice their future for the sake of repentance.

31st december 12:00 am, the moment when the whole world is in a state of ecstasy!

It’s difficult for you to imagine this moment as a flash of sadness with crippled emotions of anger, fury and melancholy for someone out there. Someone who maybe seems fine with a perfect smile to entertain the acquaintances…someone who hides her mourning just the way ‘the happy world’ would want it.

But, just wish that the new year brings that someone a chance to explore something soothing enough to appease the ulcers on her soul…and give the fortune to find someone who could gauge not only the apparent comfort rather the internal anguish which gets deeper and darker with every moment that passes by!!

The Baggage!

Imagine waking up in the middle of the night by hearing what you just said out loud ‘unknowingly’ while you were asleep….

No it doesn’t imply that you are a ghost or you are a maniac! Then what is it? Is it the shrillness of your voice or the amplitude of its frequency? Is it the doors stumbling behind your back or the windows just shattered? ……Its none of those too..

It’s more the web of thoughts in your brain which crunches your power to relax, your mind is grumbling and regurgitating the events that just passed by.

People call me self obsessed, self conceited or sometimes psychic but I’m hundred percent sure that we all are that at one place or point in our life.

Everything in my life seems to be jumbled up in a big baggage lying at the corner of my mind. This baggage as heavy as the white whale in a small canal can move the world around you with a mere movement. It leaves no opportunity to exploit your thoughts and hinder your every step. The moment you are about to have fun or make a decision, the worst memory of your life will come up and destroy it all!

Making new friends? And the baggage would show you your worst friendship disasters…spending time with friends? What about the parents you left at home?, the baggage strikes again!...the moment you realize that yes you are meant to have fun is the moment reality shows you the biggest mistakes you have ever made.

People say ‘Learn from your mistakes’ but all that it gives me is; regret, sorrow, embarrassment and a refreshed feeling of humiliation. I thought of myself as a highly practical, emotionless rather ruthless, selfish, fun loving and manipulative modern woman. A woman of substance and pure diligence! But I ended up realizing that I’m just the opposite. Exact opposite, I get impractical when it comes to my mom, I get literally mindless when I decide the payoffs and yes I cry too!..i cry on tiny things like falling on the ground and I value little moments like my mom’s message or my sister’s chocolate as if I’m like just another emotional fool. And the word fun doesn’t even exist in my dictionary since I’m never satisfied with the present condition and I always think and repent for what I could have done.

Sometimes my mind get so pumped that I lose the capacity to control the words popping out of my mouth. I speak things which are irrelevant or rude or ambiguous..but it seems like my mind actually exploded those words out! Asleep or awake, this trauma never ends and I speak whatever comes to my mouth.

Control it or hide it, the baggage always makes its way through to express, annoy and exploit!No it doesn’t imply that you are a ghost or you are a maniac! Then what is it? Is it the shrillness of your voice or the amplitude of its frequency? Is it the doors stumbling behind your back or the windows just shattered? ……Its none of those too..

It’s more the web of thoughts in your brain which crunches your power to relax, your mind is grumbling and regurgitating the events that just passed by.

People call me self obsessed, self conceited or sometimes psychic but I’m hundred percent sure that we all are that at one place or point in our life.

Everything in my life seems to be jumbled up in a big baggage lying at the corner of my mind. This baggage as heavy as the white whale in a small canal can move the world around you with a mere movement. It leaves no opportunity to exploit your thoughts and hinder your every step. The moment you are about to have fun or make a decision, the worst memory of your life will come up and destroy it all!

Making new friends? And the baggage would show you your worst friendship disasters…spending time with friends? What about the parents you left at home?, the baggage strikes again!...the moment you realize that yes you are meant to have fun is the moment reality shows you the biggest mistakes you have ever made.

People say ‘Learn from your mistakes’ but all that it gives me is; regret, sorrow, embarrassment and a refreshed feeling of humiliation.

I thought of myself as a highly practical, emotionless rather ruthless, selfish, fun loving and manipulative modern woman. A woman of substance and pure diligence! But I ended up realizing that I’m just the opposite. Exact opposite, I get impractical when it comes to my mom, I get literally mindless when I decide the payoffs and yes I cry too!..i cry on tiny things like falling on the ground and I value little moments like my mom’s message or my sister’s chocolate as if I’m like just another emotional fool. And the word fun doesn't even exist in my dictionary since I’m never satisfied with the present condition and I always think and repent for what I could have done.

Sometimes my mind get so pumped that I lose the capacity to control the words popping out of my mouth. I speak things which are irrelevant or rude or ambiguous..but it seems like my mind actually exploded those words out! Asleep or awake, this trauma never ends and I speak whatever comes to my mouth.

Control it or hide it, the baggage always paves its way through to express, annoy and exploit!

Intensity of Passion can exterminate your Soul...

Let not the coldness, sharpness or stiffness of a person fool you…every person, either as sharp as a brutal knife or as fragile as block of sand, has an inspirational figure in his or her life. This figure not only inspires him to breathe and live rather it can explain the meaning of life to him without saying a word. Mere presence of this figure leads to a surge of motivation, an electrical surge to stand up for whatever his motives are.

Some might assess this as a figure who is your partner in life but I would strongly negate this fact. It could be anyone, anyone from your mother to your neighbor, from your wife to your paper boy…anyone who inspires you to live and feel the soul within you!

But when the inspiration ignores your existence or doesn’t acknowledge your feelings…. it hurts. Have you ever imagined a scenario where this enlightening being not only ignores rather brutally negates your emotions?

You’re so helpless when your admiration is perceived as a source of pain & your expressions considered as cold as the frozen dead body kept in the refrigerator since its presence can terrify the near ones!!!

In the beginning you try and try harder to rectify and appease the situation but alas! Every attempt you make renders another mistake which is bigger….. Till, a time comes when all your efforts and hopes are crushed like rusty leaves crushed by ruthless pedestrians!

Why people see the expressions on your face or take your coldness as hatred? Why the world belittles the meanings behind small gestures?

They all can see the unemotional nature of a person but can’t understand the intensity of passion underneath that! Some people born with the inability to express are also born with the ability to love someone to the extreme… but why they exaggerate the former and ignore the latter!

One can survive if it’s the world who misinterprets your coldness as hatred….but the soul fades away if it’s the one who inspires you!

United We Stand..Divided We Fall!

All the news channels and media sources are bombarding the audience with the spot-fixing scandal and involvement of Pakistani cricket stars in it. We see people from within and across the borders loathing and detesting this act of Pakistani cricketers, without any confirmation of the evidences.

Pakistani cricket team was the only custodian of a positive image of Pakistan and Pakistanis in the international scenario. People and even other cricket stars admired our talented fast bowlers and inspirational boom boom sixers. We as a team maintained a certain level and despite of our ‘some unexpected performances’, our stars and team was always considered a top class team which had the capacity to beat the world’s top class team with its young lads. But this spot fixing scandal has not only ruined the international image of Pakistan but has also crushed the dim rays of hope of all Pakistanis.

Spot-betting and match fixing scandals are not new to the world, every team except a few gifted ones has tasted this humiliation. But nevertheless, the humiliation has been escalated to sheer degradation for the Pakistani team! Why is this so? Why this scandal has which is still unproved, open to criticism by all?

I reckon this gibberish criticism and hatred speeches by people across the borders are a result of our inner weakness. Our core is not strong enough to support their players in such issues. Whenever such an issue has been raised the respective country’s cricket board and media has taken measures to suppress the matter with as minimum allegations as possible.

Let’s take an example of India, a country known for its gambling and spot-betting industry. An estimate shows that India generates revenue of US$ 1 billion from big matches. In 2008, former Indian federation President Inderjit Singh Bindra himself admitted that the budding gambling and match fixing problems in India can only be solved by legalizing gambling.

Keeping these facts in mind, let’s review the consequences when Indian cricketers faced the allegations of match-fixing. Ajay Jadeja and Mohd. Azharuddin were not only accused of match fixing but evidence of call records and illegal transactions left nothing to prove their innocence. Ajay & Azharuddin had contacts with a number of bookies e.g. Uttam Chand, Shubhan Mehta who offered them handsome money. Despite of all these facts, ICC was unable to take any legal action against these Indian cricketers and wasn’t able to arrest or perform legal charges in court. This wasn’t because ICC had a personal preference for these cricketers rath

er the Indian cricket board was strong enough to take a stand and solved the matter with care. They neither created mellow dramatic documentaries loathing their own cricketers nor did they allow any other country to barge in their matter. Minimizing the charges, both cricketers were separated with respect and hence we see Ajay Jadeja as a cricket expert of NDTV and coaching domestic cricket teams for tournaments.

Now, coming to the case of Pakistan, let’s review the stance taken by PCB, our media and the government to protect our image. Pakistani cricketers when accused and blamed to be a part of this scandal tried to seek refuge and help from their Government and PCB. But as expected, Pakistan cricket board has maintained minimal involvement in this issue. Strict orders were issued to not take action against these players until any evidence is recorded. Instead of playing an active role in analyzing the validity of evidences, PCB has taken aside once again losing its right to Scotland investigation team like Muhatrma’s Benazir’s murder. PCB could have attained the rights like Indian cricket board to solve and resolve the matter under its jurisdiction but it’s like PCB is rather the Pakistan board of any other sport than Cricket!

Let’s take a look at the role of media in this crisis. Pakistani media has maintained its stance to criticize its own players as if it gives them self satisfaction. Every government official, non-official, cricketer or ex-cricketer has taken the opportunity to come and criticize their players on camera. Instead of hoping for their clearance, every political animal, sports personality or news anchor seems to be emphasizing the ‘Anti-Patriotic’ act of these players. But what they don’t realize is that humiliating their national representatives on international media is itself an ‘Anti-Patriotic Act’.

On the top of it, our popular drama queen Veena Malik has taken the opportunity to take out grudges against Mohd. Asif by providing proofs of match fixing against him. In fact, she has gone aboard to give special interviews to Indian news channels for this purpose. As a NDTV reporter states “Then she tried to tell me that all matches are fixed. I don't know why she approached me. That's the question because I never called her," Dixit said. She claims that she was managing six to seven Pakistani cricketers and knew about their plans. But in this matter she forgets that she is accepting her involvement in this spot-fixing scandal herself!

No wonder these acts of indecency of our media and silence of PCB has opened gates of unwanted criticism for Pakistan by the world. Kapil Dev, an ex-Indian cricketer comments that people who can forge their country are not trustworthy at all. The British press releases news clipping about Pakistani cricketers saying “They are the poor relations of the (cricket) world when it comes to getting paid and so the temptation is there to supplement earnings. The fact the Pakistan players have been prevented from taking part in the lucrative IPL because of the poor relations between Pakistan and India doesn't assist in that matter."

Once let open, the international media doesn’t get satisfied by only criticizing the Pakistani World cup champs. In fact they want to whither their existence in the sports arena. Former ICC chief Malcolm Speed has claimed to ban Pakistani team’s existence in the cricket scenario. Former England captain Michael Vaughan said that he doesn’t see Pakistani team getting out of this one!...the list of such press releases and shameful comments can go on.

But the main point to reiterate here is that the branches carry fruits only if the root can bear the weight. Yes, the world doesn’t dare to mess with those who are strengthened from within. These scandals aren’t new, from Australia to India; almost every country’s team has been accused and alleged of such crimes. But none have been humiliated and planned to ‘banned’ from the cricket’s world. This is because their cricket boards took a stance to solve their matter within the system, their media supported their innocence and their politicians didn’t loathe their ‘anti-patriotic spirits’. I think once our country learns to take stand for its own people, no one in the world can harm us with their desperate attempts to disparage us as a nation!

Dream On...

Every person sometimes reaches a situation where there are no words to write & none to speak, the expressions and thoughts are too jumbled to display. Though it’s frustrating or nerve-reckoning but yes that’s the moment which makes us see the true us. Confused, withered, tired or boggled ‘us’ see ourselves clearly in this confusion. The blurred vision makes us see the dreams within us.

The dreams buried deep inside where nobody could reach them. Dreams; from small little desires to hardcore wishes which now seem like inert, unreachable and unachievable.

The fear of facing those unachieved desires hides them deep inside in a corner of the brain where no one…literally no one can reach them. But it’s you, who can open and face them. It never too late to rethink and live th

e moments you have always wanted to. Fame, fortune, money blah blah..maybe are unachievable for some. But it shouldn’t stop us from dreaming, since dreaming is not always about expressing yourself to the world rather sometimes it’s about expressing yourself to ‘yourself’.

So, dream and dream…dream about life and its small things which can make your day which eventually makes a small but treasured moment of your life. Take a moment of freedom from the books, machines, notebooks or laptops whatever you’re stuck in and:

Go and breathe the fresh air, the flowy breeze and the rusty leaves

Feel the rain drops on your palms as the sun dawns

Do the dance moves that are embarrassing

Take a second to splash in dirt....i know it's difficult but sometimes won't hurt

Make bubbles in your shake & don't care what sound it makes

Sing loudly, Louder and Louder...until you can't breathe

Your tonsils might burst & so will someone's ear...but you'll feel at ease

Don't you worry about the world...just the way it never does for you

Just Dream on...as it's time to introduce yourself to YOU!

Music: 'admiration or veneration'

Music gives us life and melody brings soul to it. Melody is everywhere, in the drizzling drops or the rustling autumn leaves, in the honking cars and in the heartbeat of each and every human. Music is the only medicine which takes humans into a trance like state. A state in which all one can see is the pictorial illustration of the lyrics and all one can feel is the rhythm with the thumping beat.

No wonder, music has become an essential to loosen ourselves from the daunting and hectic lives of today… and this ‘urge for music’ has given rise and power to the singers of today. Internationally ruling the charts and hearts of people, these top celebrities in fact have the strength to make or break a notion!

Songs, give birth to notions and every celebrity rises with a humongous fan following of his own ‘style’. The fandom these days reaches the pinnacle where people literally worship the star. These celebrities inspire and instigate the youth with their lavish lifestyles, provoking thoughts and exciting messages. Their thoughts, messages either open or subliminal are accepted since the youth is too naïve to object. Further elaborating naïve, these ‘devotees’ actually start living in the trance which the music and celebrity creates. Neither understanding the meaning nor the true significance, they just follow, proving the extremity of their ‘fanship’.

Now, focusing on the youth of Pakistan, where do we lie in this queue of this blind veneration?

We lie at the top!.. Totally intimidated by the celebrity power our youth has actually lost the power to understand before adoring. With complete adulation, our youngsters vouch to completely follow the footsteps of the foreigners. Each and everyone of us has a crush on one of those hot stars and we tap to their music. Rock, pop, R&B, soul, country, jazz etc. you just name it and even children will name the top most stars of these genres. But do we understand that how strong the impact of this unsighted devotion has been on our minds? Do we get the meaning of the song before putting it up as a status of facebook? Do we actually reckon the disrespect when we try to be as minimally dressed as Rihanna was in her video?

No! we don’t and infact we don’t pay a damn to such useless thoughts. Life is here and life is today! This is what we believe, but is this what our norms, values and religion has taught us? Our religion has treated this world only as an exam to pass for the world hereafter. Imagine an exam where we all know the answers taught us by the Almighty Allah, but still only a few etch the write steps to clear it. This is what we all do, we all know the answers but we seldom ponder because we have been brainwashed by the messages taught and conveyed to us by these celebrities.

Let’s, take a look at our lives now. Every girl wants to be ‘Material Girl’ and every boy wanders saying ‘It’s my life’. Awe struck by the ‘Good girl gone bad’ trauma we all want to be bad. We put black nail polishes and cat woman outfits to just copy the bad attitude and style. Every teenager sings ‘toxic’ and ‘piece of me’, without realizing that this is not what we were meant to be as Muslims and as Pakistanis. Listening to songs like ‘seduction’, ‘pump it’, shut up and drive’..we have transformed from the great humans to useless commodities which might appeal but seldom inspire.

We all want to be rockers, studs, hunks, hotties but do we ever desire to be the best person? Have we ever thought about those who gave birth to us?..No! When we don’t even think about the Almighty who created the world then why would we care about our parents? We say life is too short to be unhappy, so let’s have fun. But do we realize that life is also too short to make the Lord happy, so let’s start from today. Our minds have been jumbled and our focus has been busted. Our attention is only diverted to the present and we have forgotten about the judgment day. Thinking all day long about money, fame and fortune we rarely think about the values, norms and morals. With boys doing their maximum to cheat, disobey and be wild, do they actually become the shoulder of their old parents? And girls fishing for the attraction from the opposite sex… do we in fact gain respect and reverence anymore from the society? Our nation built and rendered as the representative of Islam..Will it survive the map with this level of indecency?

This article could go on for pages and pages, but bringing it to an end, the only thing I’d like to point out is that it’s high time to start thinking before we lose it all as a nation!

Sheer Hatred...Inspires!

Scorpions are defined as people who see the world in black and whites. Either they love or they hate, ‘Sheer’ is the word which defines or may be completes their emotions. Hatred or veneration, the two expressions encompassing the lifelong feelings these people possess. They sting, they bite or they protect, own and possess. It’s hard to hate someone even if he suffocates you to death. But it’s harder to adore rather hardness reaches impossibility.

Trust me…coz’ I’m a scorpion with a sting, myself! Absorbed in my self-proclaimed conceit I barely take out time to even like anyone. The probability of this improbable likeness can reach negativity..in numeric terms of course. It doesn’t mean that I hate everyone I meet rather it implies that it’s as difficult to get out of my ‘sheer hatred’ list as difficult it is to get in.

Imagine; when you hate someone so much that you can’t even take their name or you love someone so much that their name sticks to your tongue like a blister. But the issue is that you think and think, constantly and continuously about both. One thought about the extremity of admiration and the other about vengeance. These staunch thoughts scuttle your sense to differentiate between greys and whites.

With this philosophy of hate and love, a person becomes too stringent to ponder any further. Visualize, you have a list or division where everyone lies in a particular column. With everything defined and explained, with no intention of revisiting the credentials...you live in a world too rigid & beyond control.

Though appearing emotionless or rigorous, a person with such a strong head also thinks. Sometimes unwillingly a person like me also becomes awed with someone’s sensibility. Someone’s sensibility to observe, remark, scrutinize and think might also appeal as unmistakable and rational to me. Though lying in the hatred matrix of my listing, I might sense the sensitivity of the person behind the disgust I possess. The ability to look beneath the camouflages one hides under is certainly an ability which I think I’m blessed with. I might not like someone but I surely can appreciate the compassion and ability behind that person.

It might appear vague or irrational, that how a person who either loves or hates…also appreciates. But yes it happens; I appreciate the thoughts, the intellect and the passion of anyone. My sheer hatred or sheer admiration doesn’t get in my way when it comes to the sensibility. Because mostly the people I hate have the capability to challenge my thoughts. Call it self-obsession, arrogance or simply self love but people who can challenge my thoughts and divert my sensibility certainly inspire me. Inspire me to re-think and revisit the philosophies about life. They might be not likable or rather revulsion is the feeling that incurs for them. But inspiration which instigates respect is unavoidable for them. I might appear stern and harsh to everyone I hate, but the respect and reverence I possess for one’s intellect never gets over-powered by my personal vengeance.

Sometimes…Sheer Hatred…Inspires! J

Precious!

A Saturday afternoon, sometimes leaves one with a lot to ponder and deliberate about. Deliberate about those thoughts which were buried in the sub conscious or the relations which were always taken for granted. Deliberate about the shackles which were never felt or the imprisonment that was imposed without a prison!
This Saturday gave me a lot to muse as well, as I made a cup of coffee to sip during my utter boredom. I smiled, laughed, cried and even talked to myself without realizing about the hours that passed by. The moments spent with myself, gave me a lot to criticize and praise about my own existence. My life, just an ordinary piece of story suddenly seemed astounding to me. Amazed by my own emotions and passions, I comprehended my life as a tale not too meaningless!
What is it that gives meaning to it? Is it the motion which keeps me going or the passion to keep discovering?
These questions occasionally get answered when you dig the subconscious concealed by the apparently rational conscious. When you forget to sip the coffee you made out of ultimate boredom or forget what to write with your hands on the keyboard, it’s the time when the subconscious takes over. Though people criticize Freud, but my staunch support for the subconscious will never be withered.
Moving on with my self-discovery moments, yes I discovered a lot. A lot of queries, thoughts came up but when I closed my eyes nothing else but a figure came to my mind. The imprint was so strong that I could draw it even with my closed eyes. Who was it who gave meaning to my life and kept my soul alive? Was it an angel or an average person?
As the imprint grew stronger, I started to recognize the facial features. The features of an angel camouflaged in a human body. It was she, the one who has always wrapped me in her angelic feathers to save me from the abrasions of the world. It was she whose security cushion could get me through the toughest the world has to offer. It was, is and will always be my Mother!
My Ami! The one who kept my soul saved from scattering in the space, who made my life a worthwhile experience and gave meaning to it. I had never thought that it was the sheer existence of Ami which could explain the spirit of life underneath my actions. Each and every moment spent with her is a precious pearl safely treasured by the river of subconscious. The thought of her mere presence can give me the sense of pleasure I can never feel for anything else. When she isn’t around the idea of her charisma can brighten up my day.
I want to achieve a lot of money, career, passion…but all of this is significant only with her magnetic soul. I indeed! Treasure every moment spent with her or spent with the idea of being with her as my life can have an impact only with her existence.

Thus, I treasure all my thoughts connected to my Ami as she is the source of life for my innately dissatisfied soul!

Broken!

Have you ever had a friend with whom you can share everything...your cries, convictions, opinions, grief or simply opened your heart out to this friend? Well, if the answer is yes, you’re lucky and if not then you’re wise!
Some might call it harsh luck and others might say it’s a flaw, but I have never had ‘close friends’. Further elaborating ‘close’; it implies friends close enough to share genuine thoughts with without a fear of distrust or betrayal, intimate enough to read your eyes without provoking tears and cherished enough to be missed at every single moment spent without them.
The thought of having a friend with the adjectives aforementioned appears quite vague and unrealistic to me, may be because I have never had an encounter with a friend forever. The idea appears amazing to find someone and make a bond which is beyond your age group, gender, class or ethnicity and give it a minimal name ‘best friend’, but it’s also as improbable for me as astonishing it may appears to others. Friendship has a different measurement scale for everyone, some might term acquaintance as friends or some might take years to consider someone a friend. I may hangout with many and term them as pals, but when it comes to my core persona…no one knows about it. I never share my secrets or my true feelings with anyone, call me an introvert or a psychic but I just can’t trust or divulge!
I admit that occasionally while sipping my coffee alone or trying to gulp the bland noodles, I do reckon that I have no friends to share my tasteless noodles with. The reason could be my ego, rudeness or something unknown. Oh! Firstly clarifying this doesn’t mean that I have never had friends at all, I have had many and I still have many too but either my friendships break a little too early or they are just fake Hi’s Hello’s as I perceive it. Coming back to the original topic, yes! Neither do I believe in the friends forever jingles nor do I sing them.
A month to a year, that’s the maximum time I maintain my friendships with someone. After that, something out of my control happens which I may term as heavenly and we break it up. This sad ending is never a fight or a quarrel rather it’s an ending of an era with a reversal of time. Reversal of time can be explained as the process in which friends become strangers!
Once the friendship has ended, we might walk by each other but never walk together, we might stand next to each other but never stand by and we might sit next to each other but never rest upon. But the query which bothers me is did we actually stand by each other before this ended? Were those secrets which were blurted out after the friendship, ever secure? Were those thoughts made fun of later, ever truly appreciated? And were they actually ill the day when I confronted my weaknesses in front of everyone? These questions might appear vague or improbable but I still suggest why take a risk? Why risk your emotions and convictions to an unknown when you know that the pressure of regret will be intolerable? Why open your heart to someone who can’t save it from the maggots waiting to invade it?
You might be a lucky one to find the pearl in the sea but what if you’re just another average one? Will you risk your emotions when the cost of losing trust and confidence clearly over weighs the benefits of a best friend?
If the answer is still yes, then in your dictionary wisdom is surely over ruled by that tiny bloody piece of flesh called heart!

Inability to Live!

When I go to a local market or a nearby restaurant I sometimes encounter my past. Yes! No matter how weird it seems I come across my past many times. Past, by past I mean the younger me, a 14 15 year old girl with an amateur and conscious personality. She could not understand the weird forces of the society which imposed certain personality qualities on her. The society imposed her to follow some strictly framed stringent rules as soon as she turned 15. Those petty colored dresses, pink rubber bands, gentle ways of communication etc. were not something she appreciated. She didn’t want to get out of her naïve attitude and camouflage herself in a well dressed innocent ‘beauty’. The concept of decency and feminine manners appeared lame to her.

Another shocking part of her life also began as soon as she entered puberty. Suddenly the world seemed to change. The faces around her were the same but their attitudes towards her changed. Those uncles who blessed her with their fatherly blessings unexpectedly started avoiding her. The outdoor activities which were a part of her daily routine vanished from her lifestyle taking away another portion of her freedom. The freedom to go on the streets seemed to fumble as well. She couldn’t enjoy the cool breeze outside her house, those weary brisk walks in the park nearby or simple rounds at the local general stores; couldn’t do it anymore, as people around her stared at her as if she was an ‘Alien’ with yellow feathers and head antennas. She wondered and wandered in her own thoughts that why people teased her for her mere presence sometimes.

Those scary looks by strangers sometimes made her heartbeat faster than a squash ball thumping the wall, snatching away a portion of her confidence from her. When fast bikes took over her with creepy guys making their faces creepier, she literally used to run to her house, losing another bit of her self-belief. Certain comments which made her feel uncomfortable with her own existence, shook off her soul. The crowd always seemed to be looking at her or rather piercing through her. Slowly she lost all of it; the confidence with which we she communicated, the assurance with which she won many small battles and the esteem which she kept her head always high.

Now, when she entered the street or a local eat out place, she could barely maintain her composure. Whether ordering a burger or walking across the road, her body shivered and heart pounded with the fear of an unknown. She preferred being at home and tried not to even go to school. Now even the cool breeze or utter boredom couldn’t force her to get out of her security shelter. When the local kids played cricket or tossed bushes to take some mangoes from the trees, she stayed inside her shell. She became a perfect woman with the perfect blend of inferiority complexes and amateur insecurity. She had the perfect reasons or rather excuses to stay at home all the time. Even the presence of someone else at her home made her hide in her room. The fierce girl with a fantastic bright smile somehow withered away with time and she didn’t even notice.

Then one day, she was with her sister at a hangout place. At that moment, unfamiliar with her own nervousness she chose to eat nothing rather than doing self service for the order. Her sister though silent at that place, pointed her trembling hands and fidgeting fingers later. And it was the first time the young she came across her own camouflaged personality. Why was she shivering? Why couldn’t she simply order her lunch? These questions made her shudder with the fear of realizing her own low self-esteem. The fear of an encounter with her own shattered persona took over her. That day she decided; to never let her existence be the hurdle of her confidence, to consider herself the best out of the lot and to kick the butt of those who lowered her poise. Since that day she never looked down upon herself, never let anyone conquer her dignity away from her and replaced her apprehension with confidence or rather ‘over confidence’.

Now whenever I see a girl sitting on the least visible bench of the park or hiding her face with her meal, it reminds me of myself though the one I was a few years ago…..
I was lucky enough to be pointed out by my sister who may be bumped into her own past when she saw me. But do all these girls have an angelic figure to make them confront their weaknesses? What about those who never reckoned that they were losing their persona in their endeavor to adjust with the norms of the society? And this question is the most horrifying one of them all. The lame norms of the society extract the abilities of these girls and the ones who commit this crime never even realize that they ‘disable’ someone forever. They grant these girls with the disability to never function at their pinnacle because of their lowered self-possession. And those who never realize their disability either live their life in their security shells or keep fighting with their inability to live life!

Clashes!

‘An appallingly unfriendly, cold, superficial and egoistic individual’ is the way most of the ‘men’ define me. They think I have a hell lot of attitude and I treat them like ….!
This horrible explanation of course shocks me and provokes me to rectify this crime, which I commit in my every interaction somehow!
So I decided to sincerely appraise the situation!
Skimming through the horrifying memories of the past I realized that almost 99.99999 percent of the times, I had CLASHES! Yes collisions with all the men I ever encountered. But the main issue is why? Why didn’t I end up being their friend just like everyone else?
The first issue could be that I’m a huge fan of a Feminist’s approach. May be I, implying a lot of modernist’s theories on men and when not getting the satisfactory response end up fighting. But when I intensely analyzed the situation, I found that it was not a true justification. Since I never implied my theories to my professional meetings. Though it doesn’t lower the theories’ merit or their status rather I never mix my professionalism with sentimentalism.
The second point could be that I was innately rude with an inborn attitude issue. Though the latter could be true but innate impertinence should have hurdled my friendships with anyone, isn’t it? And if that’s the case then it would be a ‘hasty generalization’ since I have a wholesome number of ‘female friends’ who find me superbly affable. Thus, this assumption could be easily negated.
Then as a student who has taken ‘human behavior’, my utmost duty is to examine this phenomenon a little more deeply. And after reviewing many hypothesis lets examine the premises through ‘social psychology’s perspective’.
Before getting to the premises I must define myself as a person first. As a girl I have always been accused of being tomboyish because of my unethical attitude with the color pink. My self-confidence has been misconstrued as over confidence because I never compromise on my rules and limits. And additionally others have acclaimed me as an egoistic woman because I believe in not accepting the mistakes I never committed!
After considering all the above attributes ‘social psychology’ explains my conflicts with the opposite sex as “Ego Clashes”. I.e. these clashes are not the fruits of my ultimate ‘insolence’ rather my self-love mistaken as narcissism hurts them internally.
Their ego is flattened by my indifferent attitude, which compels them to create artificial conflicts with me. These conflicts may be gets them the amount of attention that they think they deserve. But when they still remain futile in making me accept their dominance, they start over with being over nice.
The over nice attitude is always a sight to enjoy! Trying to get their self-esteem satisfied they in fact end up losing it a little more. Then comes in the extra-rude attitude, which is the most entertaining part. In this last shot they try to use their ‘ definitive power’ to screw anything which could benefit me. They might be successful sometimes in using their deviated political arms to hurt me and could end up in making me suffer to an extent.
But they can never break my Ego because it’s stronger than theirs. I’m ready to suffer whatever comes in my way in order to maintain my Self-respect and Yes! These collisions strengthen me a little more!

Is it the real YOU?

During my exams last semester, one day while cramming my notes I looked at myself in the mirror. I saw a blunt, outspoken, straightforward girl with a damn care attitude, but with this look came a thought, a thought which clutched my mind and I just couldn’t get out of the strong grip! The thought was not so outrageous rather it was just a simple query i.e.

“Is this the real me?”

Yes! It wasn’t the real me. I’m not a person with a damn care attitude towards life, I care about small things; things like what would I do in the quiz if I don’t study? Or what shall I buy for my mother from the small sum of money I saved from my pocket money. I was a nerd; a nerd who studied hard day and night to get good grades and pretended to be cool. A cool girl who didn’t study at all and still somehow got good marks!
But who was I hiding from, why did I never tell anyone that how much I studied or why I wanted to mask my concentration in studies from others? What is a COOL personality? Who defined those terms?
Lets take a look into it from the perspective of a normal teenager who doesn’t know what’s in and what’s out!
We go into the university with high spirits, aspiring dreams, passion and zest to be something big someday. The ambience that seems so conciliatory the first day gradually throws back our deficiencies upon us. We are never appreciated for what we are rather always pointed out the way we should be.
The various definitions get their ways into our heads like whose Cool, Hot, Geek, Funky or a Rock star. A few things necessary to get into “The Elites” are not the money rather there is a whole recipe to be a part of the mighty agenda! The recipe includes a variety of compulsory ingredients like designer clothes (If you don’t have them at least pretend), English with an accent, a few top class gossiping qualities, highly artificial attitude and oh yes! You should be humble and sympathetic to those who are not the “Elites”.
To get into the circle of the Elites, all the girls and guys tighten their belts after few weeks of the university to gather the ingredients. They get on the nerves of their parents whose old mind thoughts become mind-boggling now. Girls go on a diet to get in their perfect skirt and the guys pretend to smoke even if they don’t know how to!

But has someone ever thought why do we have to fit in the already settled parameters for being the “Hottest”, in fact what is the Hottest or the Coolest? What is it for?
No, it’s not for success. Neither does it fulfill the aspirations that were bubbling in the students when they joined in nor does it actually make them different from what they are in real. It’s just a mask we use, which in terms of psychology will be defined as “Relational violence”. In literary terms it’s violence done by females to suppress the aggression within them but I believe it’s rather a term for both genders who participate evenly in this ruthless brutality of dividing people into classes.

What could be worse then changing yourself for the sake of something which doesn’t even exist?

Are we so superficial that vague gushes of artificiality carry away our persona? We; the greatest creation of God can change it’s thoughts, beliefs and forget his/her own identity for the sake of being a center of attention?
We see girls dying of Anorexia Nervosa and Bulimia, young teens dying drunk due to speedy road accidents, smoking as a sacred ritual for the sake of attention and an addiction to lose weight, parents’ presence seen as a source of embarrassment in the “IN” circle and young teens sneaking out to make gf/bfs to check if they are in demand or not. The values with which we lived for years suddenly become lame in front of the individualistic approaches? Is appreciating those, who gave you birth, strength and support, not worthwhile enough to waste time on? Why do we change our paths from the library to the café for being eminent? Why do we make fun of those who wear glasses or are not close to a perfect figure? Why a big car and late night partying is becoming an obsession rather than recreation?

All we need to do is think! Think with the brain that the Almighty Allah gave us, ponder upon what we actually are and realize that we are not what the world defines us as, we are what our mind shapes us as. The world is making its progress to a dangerous end where people pursue the legendary trail without even questioning it for a moment. But I think it’s high time that instead of making movies like mean girls, teeny toons, never been kissed etc.. We focus on throwing away those fake, lame beliefs, which forge young people and overshadow their true brilliance.

Its time!

My Angels!

When I was young and vulnerable, my hands were small and fingers like ladyfingers. I was afraid of sleeping alone at night and my heart pounded when I saw a horror film. I couldn’t take a step outside my home since I was to naïve to cross the road.
The world was colossal for me to handle, but yet my world was a little wonder like a fairytale. A wonder where there were four fairies, yes! They existed and they exist even now to protect me from the ruthless world.
The first one to hold my hand was the Fairy Godmother, who held my hand, clenched my fingers when the world was not even visible. She watched me over when I was alone, loved me like a princess sitting on her throne. She fulfilled my wishes and I called her my Grandmother. In her hands there was love and affection, all she needed to do was touch me with her hands and make me secure.
We went outside to discover and if I fell she helped me recover. I still remember the ducks we used to feed with my Jam toast and the parks we used to stopover. She took me for a walk though I was ten times slower than her. She fought my tiny battles and never let me down. My desires were fulfilled without even a bit of hesitation and my tears were as precious as pearls due to her presence.

She was there, there and there and everywhere! To make my life a small heaven with

laughter and glee ubiquitously!

Then I started growing up, like a star of her eyes. I was like a princess, a doll treated with the greatest affection by them all. I never thought she’d leave me alone, never imagined the loss when she was gone. I was too little to realize that she was no more, rather just thought she was asleep. My mom, sisters and aunts cried and I just wandered without recognizing the precious gift of nature I had lost. She was ill I knew it well, but I was unfamiliar to the meaning of death. Now I think, how painful she must’ve felt, leaving those who she brought up behind, going to a world which for us is still undefined.

The second fairy is my other Fairy Godmother who took the pain even beyond imagination to give birth to a naïve little twerp like me!
She comforted me in her shelter, with her soft arms wrapped around my body to give me the blanket of coziness irreplaceable by any blanket in the world. She was, is and will always be the best Mom present in the world. She didn’t sleep for hours if I had a little fever. With her sleepless eyes she greeted me with the same fresh smile once again. Her eyes are enough to make my life bright and her one kiss can make my day.
She worked hours to please my massive appetite and record my favorite cartoons. She spent days to sew the best frock I could wear and brag about among other children. I can recall the weeks I took off from school with an excuse of “not feeling like going to school”, requesting her to let me not give the exams and taking money from her while she was on the phone. She never turned and scolded me for all the blunders I made, never stood on head checking my homework, she trusts me for whatever I did and still do and I love her for her existence!
Her mere presence can bring luck to my life, her eyes shine and they make me smile. Without her prayer, I believe I’m nothing but a piece of flesh without life. Drinking tea, talking life and discussing issues with her seems to fill my life, which is an empty bag of rubbish without her. She is there and this feeling is enough to make me face anything that comes my way,

Mama, I just don’t have words to express my gratitude to you for being my mom!

The next two fairies are my two junior fairy Godmothers! One is like a roof, which saves me from all the cruelties that life has to throw at me and the other one is like the four walls, which surround me and keep me alive!
I call them my sisters, both make me laugh, one takes me to places to discover the world and the other one makes me feel like a kid whose every little desire should and will be fulfilled.
I remember those times when I took their lunches away just because I was younger they didn’t say a word. We played and wrestled; they lost the race to make me feel proud of my stamina.

They took me outside to buy me ice creams and do my school homework. At the end of summer vacation the whole family used to sit and fill my homework copies. My art handworks were hand made by them lolzz! Life was amazing.
One used to clean the house and dance with me while the other taught me how to drive and dance in the rain outside. I spent days thinking that they were ghosts because they ran faster than me. And while playing hide n’ seek they will hide in the easiest place possible or sometimes right in front of me.
Now when we have passed the days of our childhood, I still feel as secure with their presence like pillars around me. They stand by me like two angels to protect and help me in my every matter. In times of sorrow I get confused to cry on which shoulder because by Allah’s grace I have many options to choose from!

These fairies have made my life like a small heaven on earth rather; my life is due to their presence. I don’t need pretty friends, best friends or even boyfriends because I have these four pretty ladies around me. Although my Grandma is gone but I know she is still around me, ready to guide me through thick and thin, I feel her presence whenever I am exalted and I sense her tears whenever I cry. My mother is there to help, guide, support and bless me with her heartfelt feelings, She makes me feel alive and a moment spent without her is a moment without life and soul. My sisters are here around me; I feel their arms around my shoulders and hands held tight whenever I need someone. They make me smile in the weirdest situations and teach me what life has taught them.
Thus, they all are the comfort zones, which protect me from the rashes of life, and keep my soul as soft as they can. They are the sheaths, which take all the pain to make my life painless.

Yes they are my Angels!!!