Friday, 21 December 2012

Digging deeper.

I remember someone saying to me, "What do you believe in? Do you think Heaven and Hell exist?" I was quite taken aback. I had never been asked my opinion before. I had thought religion was something handed down to you. You had no right to question it or think too deeply about it. The thought that i can believe what I want to, just like that, did not make me feel satisfied. I gave it many a thought. I was distracted all the time. All i thought about was how mysterious the whole world is, how every person has different stories to tell about life and how not all can be true. Contradicting theories that confused me further than i was already.
One day I had an argument with an atheist. I found myself subconsciously disagreeing and i came up with the most amazing arguments that i had not thought of before. It was like these facts came from a much deeper place than the one i could access. He asked me: "Can God build a boulder so big, that even he can't lift it?" I thought about it and I said, "Our brain is only that: just a brain. It has been given to us and has been given certain powers. Isn't it too arrogant to suggest you understand everything and you can decide what God can or can not do? Science is a tool. It is there to understand the universe, not to judge it. Can you build a scale, weigh a piece of iron and say 'this iron is wrong'? Your question is a paradox and we have not been blessed with brain power enough to understand it. After all, we are a 'biological accident'."

Even as i argued, i thought, God does say in the Quran, "Say: "Travel through the earth and see how Allah did originate creation" (29:20) Why would He encourage exploration of science and creatures if he were not The Truth? I also heard somewhere that the Prophet (PBUH) said, if you can't find Hidayah for a problem in Quran and Ahadith, do what your head deems fit.

My head has begun to clear up now. I believe that the belief in the unseen does not make you stupid, it makes you brave. You don't have to believe in ridiculous superstitions, what is true will make its reality known to you. That is how you find God.

Sunday, 28 October 2012

Revenge- A short story.

Hearing the doorbell, I got up and opened the front door. There, stood before me, the stereotype new neighbour: cake in hand, smile on face. What didn't go with the characteristic image, though, was the crowd of children around her. At first glance i thought i was seeing double, but when the herd (excuse my lack of respect) ran up the stairs to ransack my room, i started to believe in their number. Come in, sit down I said. Inside, I was torn between killing the children for destroying my belongings and killing her for bringing the whole party over.
The new neighbours were eleven people in all; the parents, the eight children and an old miserly-looking grandfather. I liked the oldie most because he was the only person who made a face far worse than I did every time the eight children-of-Lucifer came into his line of vision. Every afternoon, it took him 30 minutes to walk to the end of the street and back with quite difficulty. I assume he considered it his exercise. The Dad was never home so I have refrained from judging him except for his neighbourhood choices. Weekends, he came out in his least presentable clothing (saying the least) and washed his car-cum-mini-van with a pipe.

Two weeks later, The Mom and each one of the kids started showing up at our door one-by-one, asking for things. No, i am not being vague. The 'things' ranged from sugar to shampoo to ice-cubes to what not. It came up to a point where my mother and I started to believe the groceries at their place came from our contribution only. But then, we realised, they did it to every house in their vicinity. Our new motto became to say "Nahe hai!" to every item they asked for.

On Eid day, however, our motto failed. They all came barging in shouting "Eid mubarak! Eidee!" which left mom with no choice but to give in to their chants and hand out fresh, cracking hundred rupee notes.

I had had enough. I became a plotting evil master-mind. Every annoying moment became a challenge for me to overthrow them.Then, it clicked.

Once upon a very happy morning (for me), I called six different households. By 12 pm I had my team ready. Ten annoying little cousins that i cringed away from under normal circumstances were now under my wing. We marched towards the notorious neighbours' porch and I joyously rang the door-bell. As The Mom opened the door and my party ran inside, I smiled evilly and thought: let the games begin.

Wednesday, 17 October 2012

Indecisive, woozy, whiny

I'm such a quitter. You know when you're in school at a cartoon-watching age they tell you: don't quit anything that you have started. Take it to the end, and you think: YEP, easy 'nuff. NO. It is not. When you're someone like me you quit everyday. You quit everything you've started and that makes you dissatisfied with every single decision that you have ever made.

I took up Italian earlier this year. I did, no kidding. I had the Italian professor (A real, hot-budha type Italian national, btw) rearrange the whole schedule JUST to suit my time. I went there for like a month. Then i quit. Just like that. I just stopped going to the classes because it took too much off my free time and I NEEDED that time to walk around university and eat around and waste time and eat more -_- I am weird. Actually, I am perfectly rational, my brain is weird.

I had this lifelong urge to do dance and theatre in public. All of a sudden i'm dancing at this dholki of my friend's and i got part in a (seriously lame) Roomi ghazal enactment but i have this major role. What the heck? I don't want to do it anymore! Maybe there is this keera inside of me that wants something REAAAAAL bad and once it gets it, it goes: Oh heyyy I got it. Wow. I don't want it -_-

Scientifically though, I've heard humans are programmed to lose interest in things that they get easily. Woohoo what a bummer my married life is going to be. Can hardly wait. *poorly disguised sarcasm*. Anyway, note-to-self: don't bother getting into things you really want because then you just end up not giving a rat's arse and the thing that had a beautiful charm being out of reach just becomes a lag in your routine. Yes. Bye.

Monday, 6 August 2012

The coin- A short story

She stepped out. Holding the five rupee coin in her hand, she was determined to end the nagging humanity inside of her and donate five precious rupees to charity. She had taken the coin out purposefully. Hiding her face with her dupatta, she hurried on and streams of thoughts ran through her mind; she thought about all the times she passed this very bridge, and of all the beggars that caught her eye.  She thought of their pitiful expressions, and the way she turned her head away when she felt guilty. What could she do? She worked so hard for money; she had so many stomachs to fill. Today was different, having contemplated sufficiently, she decided it was okay not to buy her medicine for the day, which she managed to obtain, one everyday. Instead, she wanted to help the lives behind those accusing, hurt eyes. Walking past the familiar bridge, she saw the bearded man, who sat down at the very corner. Wait. He’s smoking cigarettes, how could she give him the well-earned money? If he can afford to buy cigarettes, he does not need it. She walked straight past him to the woman, holding the baby in her arms, who stood at the same spot everyday. The woman doesn’t seem to be unhealthy at all, she thought. In fact, she had fat on her arms that put my skinny ones to shame. No. She doesn’t deserve it either. Looking at the small traffic-boy, she felt a tinge of guilt. He’s so young. If I give him the money, he will get used to it. I will be responsible for spoiling him. Absolutely not; it is better to pass him by than letting him have the money. Beggar by beggar, her mind came up with excuses and reasons. At last, the bridge ended. She had reached where she had wanted to. Please forgive me God, she whispered. Her hand slipped into her purse, and when it came out, the five rupee coin had disappeared.

Friday, 22 June 2012

Changing Dreams

People have weird ideas for finding a soul-mate. By 'some people' I am referring to myself. I have my goals set. I know what I want to do, I'm just not sure how. I know where I want to live and I already have a few blue-prints for my dream house, more than ready for construction. What I look for is a person who would want my dreams, who would understand. I always end up choosing the wrong people, misjudging them just because they're different. I did not understand the concept of 'better half' until a few weeks earlier.

A soul-mate is a person who has dreams of his own, but gives them up and makes you give up yours. You will not be asked to do so, no. There's just going to be moment when you realize, I don't want what i want anymore. I'm not as ambitious about my career as i was yesterday. I don't want to live in the Playboy mansion anymore. You start wondering what changed, and you realize, love happened. You want what they want. Everything is now, US. He should be hateful, the person who made your resolutions waver. But he's not.

I know i'd probably be eating my words if things turn out to be even worse than situations i've previously encountered. BUT. I've concluded that, if you want to make sure who your 'soul-mate' is, don't look for the person who also wants a house in the woods like you do. Keep your eye out for the one who always wanted a glass roof (not to be taken literally) and you find that idea even better than yours <3

Wednesday, 13 June 2012


Birthdays passed. Preteen to teenage. But I've always judged how cool my age was by calculating the number of songs relating to it. One song that has been always been my fantasy to relate to is She Willl Be Loved by Maroon 5. When I was sixteen i used to sing it paraphrasing the song to "Beauty queen of only sixteen..."

Point being, now that I am eighteen, I shall listen the hell out of this song.

Saturday, 2 June 2012

Something I sang

I recorded a bit of one of my favourite songs last year and never showed it to anybody. I found it today and thought 'What the hey, I'll put it up anyway."

So here goes!

My song

Thursday, 31 May 2012


This might just be THE moment of my life.

I always wanted to do something cool for a living. Like watching a movie and eating popcorn then writing a review about it and getting shitloads of money. Well, today I have come close.

I've gotten an offer to watch 3 documentaries a day and write an abstract summary about what's in each of them. AND I WILL BE GETTING PAID. They even asked me how much I would charge. I feel so sophisticated.

Feeling like a sir

You know you've lost your friends when...

When you are in school, it seems like your friends are yours. You have a right over them and whatever they do, you feel responsible because they're YOUR friends. Telling your mum about that one time your best friend cheeked the teacher, your mum's gonna flip out because 'you must have had something to with it too'. You're accomplices and partners in crime. It's not  bad feeling though. It is a freakin' AWESOME feeling. You did something weird, you thought up an absurd explanation to something, you found out A is dating B, anything at all, and you know exactly who you're going to call. You grow up with your school friends. You grow up with your college-mates and university buddies too, but school is the only era that counts. The growing up is so profound and obvious that you feel different from day to day and you have someone to feel different WITH.

Enter college, scattered friends, less frequent calls and all that you ever feared. Still, it is all okay because you still have a common ground. My friends wanted to study premedical and i had no interest but I decided my friends were worth studying subjects i don't like and i opted for it too. Bad luck though, we got into different colleges. Anger, tears, complaints... Still, we were studying the same stuff so we knew what to whine about, we could still plan group studies and we could still bond over valency of electrons. We were BFFs like we'd promised to be on the back of our tee-shirts on our last day of school.

Next, our practical life started. I knew I couldn't even memorize the names of all subjects a doctor has to study, let alone pass them. My friends wanted to be doctors and I decided I should not waste my life doing something I am no good at. So I chose something entirely different. I transferred into arts and there is now a two thousand mile (exaggeration) distance between our institutions. I tell myself: physical differences do not matter, Wishaal. Your friends love you and they will keep loving you. A little voice inside my head replies: They might love you, but they don't need you now.

For me, friendship has always been a dependable thing. Something quite selfless. I believed in absence makes the heart grow fonder rather than out of sight out of mind. The very foundations of my belief are faltering. A few weeks back we had some arguments. Had we been in school they would have dissolved in a few tears and playful slaps on the back but, as we are in PRACTICAL life now, all differences are irreconcilable. I have to think before i speak now and that hurts me because the reason they were my friends in the first place was that i could say what i wanted to and they understood me, they stood up for me, they helped me through and always listened to my side of the story. Now i see them sticking up for someone they need and i realize i'm not important anymore. I can't call my friends my OWN now

...and that's when you know you've lost them.

Wednesday, 30 May 2012


A short story.

 It was a dream. Or was it? 30 years and still I remain in doubt. But that day I remember, oh yes. Clear as lake water. I remember HER. All these years of recalling her, I could have thought up a name, a nickname at least to refer to her; calling her a girl, a woman or any such word of femininity is an insult.
        Whenever i start thinking, i don't just randomly start. I get out my favorite armchair, light the fireplace, dim the lights and close my eyes...
     1980. Some far off town in Iran, the name of which has long been changed into something more modern. I don't even remember the place properly, can't even point it out on a map probably. I had gone to Iraq as a volunteer; there had been an earthquake. I began field work in the ruins of some building which had fallen. My friends and I spent hours everyday in the blazing sun.
   One day, 20 or so days after we started working there,we were attacked by a bunch of kids who asked us for money. We spent a few minutes playfully arguing with them, then i got bored, turned around and saw HER.
 In a bright orange dupatta, those green eyes met mine for only a second. I spent my whole life on that one second. High cheek-bones melting into her cheeks, which converged to produce her perfect mouth which was partly open with subtle surprise. Maybe i was staring too intensely; i joked to myself. Her jawbone sharped curved to her ear. That was all I could see. But this perfection, this apparition, this is not what i remember most about her...

      Right across her right cheek was a deep mark, A scar.  Stretching out from her brow to lower lip. Dark as midnight.

It was as if an artist ruined his most prized sculpture, just to save it from the Evil Eye. I don't know where she got that mark, but i like to believe God put it on her face. Maybe because he didn't want her to be vain? Or maybe because he wanted to show the world how nobody is perfect.

I think it was both.

  That face has been dissolved into my veins, imprinted onto my brain; not because of the girl, but because of her scar. It changed my whole outlook of life. It led me to understand that no matter how perfect, how amazing or how ideal a person's life seems to be, there is always a gash upon it. Not on the face? Then it might be something you can't see. Nobody, nothing is perfect. You could look at Cinderella, and say she had a happy ending. But even she had a rough childhood. So nothing is complete, and nothing is ugly either. You just have to look for what you have and others don't!

  She had a scar on her beauty.. that scar taught me life.


You do the craziest things when with friends. You laugh at more ridiculous stories and you laugh harder. You get the guts to make fun of random strangers on the pretense of complimenting them. You crack jokes so cheap they would make you shudder if you were alone. You watch item songs from “Filmazia” and they make you roll on the floor snickering, rather than making you puke like they usually do. With friends you experience moments that actually make you feel alive. Things happen that you haven’t thought about before and they actually start making sense. Your path is redirected and you like it.

The moment of change is sudden, on a whim. Like this one time, me and a friend were waiting for the W-22 to take us on a route that had previously been verbally practiced and re-practiced, and out of the blue we’re laughing and getting on another bus that is much better suited for us both. It is funny how fate guides you sometimes.  In my case, when I get up in the morning I never have a plan of action. Maybe that is a bad thing. Maybe I am too dependent but it is all good, because it’s God that I rely on. He makes way for me every time.

When you don’t want to talk about plans or substitute plans, when you prefer going with the flow, you find that the universe doesn’t want bad things to happen to you. Life is one big stage like everyone says and nothing is meaningless. I always felt funny when I saw the intricate traps Tom and Jerry set for each other, one action leading to another to another to another… but now I know. This is how the world works: like clockwork. The flap of a butterfly’s wing in one part of the world may cause a hurricane in another. I am a believer.

All events in your life are not happy. They’re dramatic. You can’t blame nature for that one time you got stuck in a traffic jam and had to pee real bad. It turned out to be memorable didn’t it? Well, you’re talking about it.
Whenever you get depressed in your life and everything is just a different shade of gray, consider this: you’re the lead in a movie and there are a million people watching you. Now, you want your story to be a hit, don’t you? The troubles you have, small ones or colossal, they’re just a part of it. One part. You get to live the happy scenes too. Let the misery come at you. Shout, “Bring it on!” because everyone who is watching your movie wants a happy ending, and so you’ll get one.

Because Of You

This is a poem that I wrote when I was feeling really happy one day, thinking of my friends. :)

You taught me how to laugh and talk,

To scream aloud, to take a walk.

I smile now like i used to

And I'm like this because of you

You cleared my mind you cleared it all,

you made sure i wouldn't fall

I paint again the gray skies blue

And i'm like this because of you

You don't agree you don't believe

You still promise that you won't leave

But i keep saying that i love you

And i'm like this because of you

I know the past has been really tough

But i tell u its different and i don't bluff

Believe me baby its really true

I'm like this because of you

Oh how i wish i could hold your hand

Drench in the rain, lie in the sand

Every color's different, every hue is new

And i'm like this because of you