Tiny Details.

I love meeting new people. Making new friends, filling them in about my life and hobbies and activities and experiences, making an impression, building trust, hanging out. There are so many things that are old but which the friend renews. I've always wondered what logic lay behind it and recently, I've reached conclusions.

I am like Google plus. I have real-life circles. A close friends circle, an acquaintance circle, a family circle and so forth. I have a different image in each of them. I decide which side of me to show to a particular circle. For example, my friends know me as this funny, laughing, happy person who never takes offense. My family knows I'm temperamental and angry. My distant relatives think I'm a retard who can't hold a conversation for more than a few minutes. It's bizarre how my personality has so many facets and one person can only see one at a time.

In school, friends come easy because you don't really have a personal self at that time. Disagreements are rare because you take pride in liking what your best friend likes. As i grew older and went to college, i realized that making friends isn't all that easy. Opposites might attract in some cases, but in mine, no. Not really. For me, friendship, love, family are all about conversation. I can't love someone or care for them at all if i haven't reached a certain level of communication with them.Anyway, college passed and i didn't have a single new real-friend to my name. That has to be because of the student-sorting system our government practices, of which i HIGHLY disapprove. All students with bad grades in one place. (Will come back to it another time.)

I joined university and for quite some time I had to make do with no-actual-conversation, make-do friends. Afterwards, when i joined my literature class, i met people. The change was so sudden that you wouldn't even know how I changed unless you looked at the tiny details. There were a lot of differences between us, but at least a few things in common with each of them. One always said what i wanted to, before me. Another shared my love for photographs. Every friend possessed one of my characteristics and we got along like a house on fire.

When I think of making new friends, i get excited. The charm lies in the fact that a new person that i meet won't think I'm retarded or weird or angry or whatever. I can show them whatever facet of my personality that i want to and that will be ME for them.

I love meeting new people. But then, who doesn't?

We need a new year.

Whenever i get an inspiration to write something, it begins in unusual ways. Sometimes a certain word pops into my head and i develop the whole story around, enveloping the word in its midst. Sometimes its a thought that i extend from both ends until i have reached something coherent. Well, this time, i just needed to write. I think reading something that i wrote gets through to me more than anything else.

When i was five, i was an angry kid. Slapping, biting, hitting others my age was a habit. My younger brother still sports beautifully symmetric scars on both his cheeks that i claim credit for. I wasn't evil, i immediately felt guilty for what i had done, even if it were not for my mother's retaliatory spanking. What i craved, in my guilt, was forgiveness. I always apologized. I had no idea then why the cold staring pierced my soul but now i know: i wished to change. I wished my mother would give me one more chance and i'd never lay a finger on brother again. Problem is, they never did forgive me. In words they did; they said it was okay. They even started talking to me again but they never forgave me. It kept resurfacing. Repetition of stories to others. They never realised i had the spark of change inside. It only worsened my condition. I thought: if they still think i'm a bad girl, why should i be nice? They wont appreciate anything. 

This flaw in my upbringing, in turn, created a flaw in my personality. I crave someone who would understand that i can change anything about me if given the chance. I only wanted one chance.

I know what a new year beginning means to me: an opportunity. I can leave all my mistakes behind and start from a scratch. No matter if i am a sinful creature, I can always ask for forgiveness and start afresh. I know, it can be done on any day of the year. You can say you're sorry and start over, Allah will never begrudge you. He will welcome you. It's only the effect an ending has on you. Prayers and repentance will never mean as much to me on a random day as they do on the new year's eve.

I started this year off thinking that i have grown up. This time, i will stick to my decisions. I am a grown woman, after all. I disappointed myself again. No matter how close a person is to you, only yourself and God are two entities who'll always be willing to accept your faults and welcome you back. I think all of us have developed double standards. If only we could forgive loved ones as readily as we do ourselves.

I don't know if everybody thinks like me, what i do know is, everyone wants a chance. Everyone deserves a chance. If they want to change, please, let them. Patience is all they ask. Maybe, when the next time you look, they'll have turned from an ugly cocoon to a butterfly.

If people refuse to look at you in a new light and they can only see you for what you were, only see you for the mistakes you've made, if they don't realize that you are not your mistakes, then they have to go. -Steve Maraboli

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.

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.

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.

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.

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