Miss Sylvia Sylvester

Meet Sylvia Sylvester,
I am sure you know her!
But no later than today,
whilst you fought the conductor on that train,
I can vouch you saw her,
in a view so plain.
Uhm, she is not very stunning,
neither ugly in terms,
neither elfin or tall,
nor the one you’d fall for.

No, does not stand out, neither is she stale,
she walks with the world, though slow in pace,
can't claim her to be clever,
or  a dummy for that matter,
nor is her grown up self cunning neither naïve,
or in fact is she too old to be called wise.

She does not talk,
but knows enough to express it hot,
come to think…
she reflects mother nature in that aspect quite a lot.

I realize she’s easy to forget and hard to remember,
but its important you try here, cause she is Sylvia Sylvester!
Unseen, unfelt, and unheard,
Sylvia does not know the words  associated with her,
still by now, I am certain you know her,
she is the average men's ego - Miss Sylvia Sylvester

The three T's

In the subcontinent you’ll find three T’s in abundance: Tea, Talk and Tuitions (being taken by students). The sudden expansion of the compulsory tutoring of every kid after school hours has coined itself as a parental ‘must-do’ notion, which in turn has students deeming it as a necessity.
My confrontation with this belief came in the form of this developing school culture, where students and parents alike argued that tuitions are a form of keeping you in pace with school work, the assignments, examinations etc - an inevitable requirement.  The idea was so obviously contradictory to the core purpose of school that I could not help but disagree.  Is school not doing that to begin with? To my eyes, private tutoring can only be justified under special circumstances i.e.  If you have a serious lack of understanding on a ‘particular’ subject that results in constant failure, specifically after you’ve tried getting help from close resources: home/friends etc.

Draining your own resources to study the same thing you learn at school seems like a waste of money and time. This undoubtedly leads to common problems such as of finances; social pressure among the peers to seek tutoring where needed not, the likability to cut back on extracurricular activities just to turn an ‘A’ into an ‘A+’,  added pressure of coping with two institutions etc. Not to forget thereof, the dying prestige of lectures at school with the growth of tuitions, leading many teachers to switch their playfields. And worse than that, ‘share’ their playfield for maximum profit.  In so focusing shift from quality education to a quality pay check.
In conclusion there’s little to no benefit attached to the tuition culture that seems to be thriving simply on the basis of hoax importance in the society.


   The idea of fitting in, the tight ideals of culture and society that chain us are more actively than we think it does. Some times I think if even the very idea of freedom is a cultural bound understanding and nothing more. Is life a constant loop of adaptation? If not, then why is death feared and not embraced. After all, we're dust. Destined to be swooped by the wind for more to settle. 

No mid life crisis here

I have been so lost lately, I just don't know where to turn but this blog. It's a given that loneliness follows when your interests conflict with that of the crowd, but its' kind of hard to avoid that you're human and that you'd rebound to delve into humanly needs. For instance, having the right people for the right kind of conversations.

I also have lately changed my reading habits, I am juggling to three books at a time ( prior to my one book at one time oath), completely blank out when I hold my pen to write, having rice sprinkled with lemon juice on it (don't even bother asking), and all I dream for breakfast, lunch and dinner is chocolate. Is this what they call mid-life crisis? No! It's just a normal next door girls' normal rant. I just called my self normal... I do need a check-up. See what I mean by not doing so well?

I am constantly looking for inspiration, I often dream about my late grandfather and his stories and wish profoundly he'd be here to tell me more. I wish to dream extravagantly again, because day dreaming is all but a dead end these days. The only saving graces of my life are perhaps these books,my blog and studies. Which shouldn't be bad,  but adventurous soul seek adventurous terrains. And conquering the same land over again loses its charm eventually.

The maybe-s are killing. I need to step my game up here.

Sins and fear.

The monsters fed on the silence,
for the voices of logic were too catastrophic.

The fear that kept quite for the sins to go louder,
leading me my surrender,
ready to burn through my eyes,
a display of evil, I birthed with my first few lies.

I think my fears are coming alive,
taunting me, itching my skin from the inside,
taunting me - for they lived inside all along,
and I was ignorant, not wise.

And we know how the ignorant end:
eaten up... alive.

From school,college to university : The build up of classism.

As illogical as it may sound, education where it should be a force to eradicate class difference does more to solidify it.

 You attend school, as young naive kids, and that point you're least judgemental. Thus clearing the notion of attitudes being groomed and bred, and not natural in its raw form. Then onwards, we are at the edge of clearing school and entering college, at which point you're still evaluating people on the basis of general attributes, scaling in on the judicial scales lightly, the good,bad and the grey. Its when you enter a more materialistic life; when your outfits matters, when social judgement stands more important than ethical judgement. It's then we build in these deceitful and downright erroneous theories of class having an impact on our perceived 'esteemed way of life'.

It is here I end up questioning a lot of standards we swiftly abide to, without so much so giving it a second thought.


My eyelids felt heavy, opening only to be closed again by the scorching white light. They didn't burn, for even after subsiding in pauses, journeying but softly from my irises to the brain, the light felt different, almost welcoming. It was taking me over whilst my eye lids battled and batted rapidly until it felt at one with me. From then, the brain to my toe nails, it had consumed me. Once conscious, I saw what was ahead me - pitch whiteness.

I could not feel myself, just that I was there, a presence. I was neither flying nor was I detached from my body, it was somewhere between the two. Perhaps afloat? Slowly at first but at one with my thoughts the light began to fade, as I fused words, then sentences to make sense. I wonder if I was really making any. Although the light had soothed down outside, it was still caressing me gently on the inside, as if in no hurry to leave. 

Royalty dawned me. My hair flowing, long and warming, partly covered with something, I say something and not cloth cause it felt like a mere layer of air. Also, I was wearing a gown. A magnificent one. I couldn't see it, for only my sense of sight was focused; the rest of my body still there, I guessed more than hoped , my gaze too transfixed on what lay beyond to give my self a good look. For that second, I felt I was only my eyes, the rest of me 'organ-less'. I couldn't even then help but ponder still over my attire. It was loose, but firm enough as skin naturally I know to be - never discomforting but ours and protective. I must have looked beautiful, I knew it more than just a guess.

The colour purple emerged, deep dark purple that is. And with the emergence of it I felt life.


The black around the violet so gentle, soothing the atmosphere. I pause to think why black often is associated with wickedness, when in all honesty its just a colour like any other, in fact so chaste of all impurities. It is the presence of darkness that shows you the right path out of many, without it its all but a maze.

Tenderly before my eyes the purple restrain to channel a pathway and with that I start to feel my feet - each nerve of it flourishing as softly as young petals of a rose. My nerves on my feet alive yet gaze transfixed on what seems like horses, I think, striding out of thin air. They are so white against the darkness, just two of them, that a grey outlining forms bordering their bodies ,giving a feel of self emitted energy, except that their riders, caped in black but a shade that set them well apart contained the energy well. They were neither good nor bad, they were just - creatures. Their shape was so human like , yet nothing in me wanted to discover them any more than they were as in front of my eyes. God knows they felt distant and for good, not posing any threat neither interest.


Hypocrites, cowards, poltroon, iniquitous... sinful people!

Well I'll be damned. You my barely empty blog and it's cold reflection of my life, I summon you, yes summon to tell you how you are my only slave, friend and tutor. I learned something so cold, its almost making me feel my soul, and suffocated. Something about expectations. The expectation of not love or mercy but rather intelligence or rationality. It's rare.

Given you have people all around you and only a few be there to see you tear up, you expect rationality from them. Just that... not more. I have had a brutal experience of relying on people who are apparently very righteous,  but when the time comes they surrender to bias, racist, discriminatory even brutal verdicts.

Hypocrites, cowards, poltroon, iniquitous... sinful people!

Why would you so much so talk about something you are not ready to implement? The last thing you get, and what you aim to achieve as you deceive with your words, is respect. And since they're close to someone, they often forget they have the power to sour a heart. But not me. God is mightier to me than blood kinship. I shall return to Him and I know He hates hypocrites, and that His wrath will be mightier than temporal pain. I shall endure, I shall have faith. Cause faith is one part of my heart none of you will penetrate.

Be strong everyone, keep your hold and keep a place in your heart for God, only Him, cause everyone in this world , including me , can manipulate and hypocrite but HIM.

All praise be to Allah, the most merciful and the most gracious. 

When Maa is not around.

   20 years old, I sit, and make big talks about life miracles and philosophies. Feeling so young in my skin at one end, like I can accomplish all my head can imagine. Where reality is dissimilar - my youth battles it, until one day, or so I presume, old age will tire me out of this battler for new warriors to fight the same way, the same war. Life is a loop.

Like a combatant tediously fighting for people and against people (see loop?) I fight impossibilities and perhaps veracity.  ‘Simple’ no more a word to me - but that does not refute its existence. It is as it is. Sitting on a cosy sofa in the company of the cool breeze, all aid to the light shower in the evening and plenty so called ‘intellectual’ books on the side table I wonder why I don’t feel as passive as I should with all the ‘apparent’ thrill of young blood running in my veins and the ‘ideal’ noble framing of my scholarly surroundings.

I miss simple. I miss simple emotions. I miss affection, love, care, tenderness and selflessness ….  I miss Maa.

There, I lost my battle. I lost to reality – the reality of needs and wants... dependency, vulnerability and maybe the truth. I am defeated by my own senses and self-ego. We’re all babies, least me, deceiving babies. Masking under thoughts we create.

The stolen glance.

 'I remember as people roughly cued by to get on the train we looked at each other for a short instance and smiled before she shied her glance away looking down at her shoes or just the floor, I couldn't make out. I was too grasped by the sweetness of it all. Before I knew it - all the people including her had boarded the train; for then I lost her sight, but once inside I tried to casually look for her. Trying to satisfy myself into thinking that it's okay to look around for a stranger like this but failing, thus shuffling my pockets and fixing my coat in a queer manner and soon quitting it to stand still upon realizing how dumb it might come off as. As quickly as my consciousness moved about from finding that girl to fixing my outlook - she appeared. And the  thoughts reversed rapidly from simply fixing my appearance to doing it for her. Something felt poetic about the situation as I saw her eyes too quietly trying to find someone - Or so I like to think what that was. As she placed a wisp of her hairs behind her ear an unclear tattoo appeared parallel to the lobule. Apparently, a word was scribbled in tiny letters, too diminutive for me to read.

  While I tried to observe more of her she caught sight of me. Hopefully unaware of how I was gazing her pretty face - those hard to resist doughy eyes rested upon her slightly worn out crimson cheeks; exposing the winter harshness they've experienced, and the unclad puffy lips paired with that snub nose, all adding up to a simple yet an attractive structure. I found myself staring. To divert the guilt in me, I took my Iphone out, upside down, not cognizant then - but when she stood to walk towards me and I had to pretend doing something indulging on it. To not make a fool out of myself I quickly tucked my phone away, cleared my throat and started to look out the train. What was I do if she approached me? Smile? Talk?. She was nearing me rather fast in my head than I suppose actually.

 Questions and counter questions filled my mind; when suddenly she tripped, due to collision with another passenger I suppose, and hit me. I just heard an exchange of apologies as she held on to a pole tightly and went to standing straight, a slight two steps away. A few minutes passed and  I realized she was checking me out from the corner of her eye. At which point, we both officially recognized each others presence. She promptly looked straight and a suppressed grin appeared on her oval face, making it plumpy. That eased me up and I chucked a little. Her grin grew broader. With that I had enough confidence to walk up to her. She clutched her purse and put it on her left. I assume it to be a signal of positive welcome and so I slid onto her right. We talked'

 Just then the train arrived breaking James chain of thoughts. He got up to board it. That incident, three months ago replayed in his mind at every odd train station. He idly sat on the seat right next to the train door. The train moved and he started to think, again.

 'I lied about my station stop just to enjoy her company a little longer. I didn't catch her destined station but it was somewhere a little far than I can afford to travel. I was way past my house or else I had it in my mind to drop off only at her station,see her off, felt more courteous. She told me her name was Bethany. Somehow we started to talk about movies,then actors and as I started to get comfortable I did a few impressions - bad impressions; least it got her to laugh. Between everything our conversation came to a halt when the next station came to sight and someone's phone rang in the crowd rang. There were only a few people and with us not conversing, the silence really highlighted. The ringing phone reminded more to me than just the silence, it gave me the brilliant idea of asking for her number.

"You surely have a cell? Of-course you do" reverting back immediately " Can  I have your number?" I said. 'Is that how you ask for a number! You dim-witted ass' I thought to myself. Too embarrassed in my head to notice her reaction. She looked surprised, though I could not guess if it was good or bad. I was not going to let go of this opportunity and so I moved my left hand to pick my phone out.

"Listen" She said. Looking as if trying to compose her astonishment. I was afraid I scared her but then she held my right hand. Clutched it gently.

"This is my station. I did not realize. I need to go"

 I froze and stopped all I was doing, including the process call 'thinking'. She walked hurriedly out as the gates closed. If she had taken 3 more seconds to recognize her station, she would have stayed. Oh, how I so wished. I got up to get a last look. Hoping she would least stick to give me a final good-bye look. I walked towards the back of the train. Peeked out the window and saw her walk past. It did not disappoint me so much as I thought about the lateness of the hour and how it was more appropriate for her to leave quickly.

 Until I saw her stop. Two rugged men paused in front of her and starting talking. It was an alerting view for me. I was afraid for her. The train started moving, slowly. I would have shouted if not I saw Bethany reciprocating with more calmness than that can depict fear. She took her purse off her shoulder, starting emptying its content out and giving them to the shrewd heavy build guys. I was apprehensive and confused. She was giving all sorts of stuff. Small stuffs; I couldn't make out what they were, chains, phones ; a few of them all of different types ranging from fancy to nominal ones. Before It struck me, the train had moved a long away along. She looked back at it. Whether for me or not. I could not make out. That was the last of her I saw.

Logical Happiness

          I am not really sure what I am about to say will end up in coherence or not, but here goes.

Have you ever observed how people, even your friends, readily accept to the sad part of things, embracing more promptly the prospects of situations, scenarios and events that bring in them a sense of hopelessness, thus enlarging a picture of self- self victimization. Well, paradoxically I’d do the same if I grab onto this issue, and make you more self conscious as already I am. In any case, that’s not what I am here to talk about. This was just the entrée to what I am preparing for you to hear next.

         That is how to introduce the positive in our lives. Also, questioning why sadness is an overpowering emotion, especially in comparison to that which is happy.
          I’d tell you why. It’s the lack of motivation, that’s the cause, the lack to actually reach out for the better. I believe that anything in us, to very large extends, be it our mental health or physical, is our own product. And that this habit of ours to play the victim has gone too far, certainly seeming easier to us than to put some effort. I mean it is after all only logical that we look for something more positive to rule out that which is negative at the moment in our life. But then again, us humans, we just aren’t as logically bright as we think. We realize too much stress paralyses us, we realize that it causes our thinking to blur, yet we don’t provide ourselves with what you and I both know to exist : the good, the positive, the optimistic. It’s like having an iron deficiency, we are aware of what we lack and so, we start eating iron rich food, taking iron rich tablets so on and on. In short, we’d do anything to rid of this lack. That right there, logic ladies and gentlemen. Likewise emotional deficiencies need to be understood and treated for us to be better, for people around us to be better. If not all, some measure of ease will definitely descend you. You have my word for it.

    If only… if only, we openly accept to the fact that there is a neutralizing force to everything, and that we don’t have to live in complete darkness or gleefully turn into maniacs by being overjoyed 24/7. And that we can shift between the two and find a balance. The right harmony i.e. we will be fine… just fine.

        The next time you feel sad, or you see someone being upset and you have that sense in you to realize, that rationally one shouldn't be this saddened or its time enough to get yourself straight, say aloud that happiness is as openly available as sadness is. Ask them to help themselves, and seek for the right medication: the logical happiness, and not meditate in the sickness for too long. Cause hey! that’s just not logical


Sad reality

A stranger's pain.

The strongest of bond
the heartiest of laughs,
O Sister of mine,
you redefine what's refine.

Held us, you did
not by the red in our veins,
instead an embrace -
oddly comfortingly plain
unlike blood itself, 
I eventually gain.

So powerful, 
this agreement - unseen,
this knot - imaginary, 
but be warn, not just illusionary.

Tell me how I question not,
who don't believe in the mighty,
also unseen,
If something so beautiful exists
like you,
with me.

In winters
 one day, like any other with you
over a cup of coffee,
as comforting as you
you poured more than usual,
what is the happy you...

those oozing secrets, unheard.

Withering lips,
paling cheeks,
moist eyes,
how had the summer in you,
suddenly changed to the cold outside my view.

O sister of mine
after years of love for you,
I learned,
finally discovered,
a stranger's pain,
and then it hurt.

The colours between blue and green.

This is what I spend a good hour on today. Its true, I am no Picasso BUT I do enjoy painting, the same way I enjoyed it as a kid. (P.s. everything I want to draw is 10 times more beautiful in my head,so open those imaginative horizons) 

Have me kill you, oh 'hope'.

Why persist to reside inside,
when mocked you are outside?
When hands to tarnish  are alert
you opt to survive?

I despise your resilience,
oh so badly, I do
it's pitiful how you exist
all veiled and so timid!

Have some dignity
oh, hope!
or borrow it from sorrow - so tenacious  it is
don't you follow?

Morrow or today, or even now 
as I say,
Kill yourself or so shall I.
   Save the agony of fighting, trying to rescue all
that which is a lie.
Go on -
 just die.

Dreamt something...

I can talk about dreams all day long. They are fascinating as it is! and mind you, if you don't  find them interesting what so ever, I think imagination and curiosity within you has seized to exist. They are the  indication of the basic natural creativity that all of us possess and none can escape. It is like a law of nature that signals and announces the vitality of imagination.

OK. Chucking the philosophical rambling and getting to what I was here for, a dream that I saw. This is the first time I am going to narrate a first hand, sort of,  experience to you guys. You have my permission to laugh and well, enjoy. I know I did when I woke up.

[Oh by the way, just a precautionary warning : This is going to smell,taste and sight weird]

Here goes :

Like all dreams tend to have, or not to have,  this one dream of mine had no exact starting point to it. I was starring this dream with two other people. I say starring cause it felt like a movie, you'll know why. One of them was my elder brother, Ashar, he's about 22..23..

[ *or is he 24? ..Jeez, I am a terrible sister*]

and the other companion of ours was PAULO COEHLO!

[Hahahaha. I KNOW RIGHT? Go on, laugh all you want. I did too. One sexy minded man he is nevertheless! ]

My brother looked the same as he does now, handsome *pukes* with a slight beard indicating our stay had been long. Sir Paulo looked the same as he does in his pictures... radiant *teehee*. He was in a powder blue full sleeved shirt paired with a khaki pant. As for me, I was too busy experiencing it and couldn't see my self throughout the dream, but I felt every emotion as the dream progressed. All of us looked worried, exhausted and I could feel my brain pounding as we made our way to a parking lot of an old house, the point where I can remember my dream starting.

It was dark, the stars above us were closer than they normally appeared on the surface of the Earth. At the beginning I was doubtful if it was even earth we were one. I was thinking back and forth, perplexed as the structure and setting of the house were that which coincided with the houses build on earth.

'It has to be earth, we can't be out of it, how else would we be breathing ?' 

I questioned myself and saw my companions sharing the same confusions as I did. We were right behind the bonnet hiding, exactly from what I did not know at that point. After a moment of resting my back on the car's bonnet I took a deep breath, turned and joined my brother to gaze at the so vivid sky. What ever it was we were hiding from was in the sky, it was mere intuition on our part. I could sense that. Sir Paulo was more tired than the two of us, it seemed we had been running for long. I patted his shoulder in reassurance, not sure if I had any myself.

[Things that only happen in your dreams, literally in dreams. Patting a world famous writer. Gah. No one can take that though. Win!]

Our silence was short lived. They came flying in. They were not humans, they were robots.

We weren't on earth. I was answered.

" DIMINISH THE OXYGEN FIELD. HUMANS DETECTED " They said. They, looking all.. well.. like this :

If only you could see the real thing, it was more classy. Meh. 

*Coming back*

HOLY CARBON HYDROGEN OXYGEN! They were after our lives, they wanted to kill us. That was clear, they wanted us dead and then we did what mighty Scooby would have done. RAN!

"They will kill us. Inside! INSIDE! Come on"  My brother proclaimed as we shouldered Paulo. Running up two stairs into a veranda and peeking at our backs with robots up head. My brother wrestled the door knob and we squeezed just in time to close the door.

"Open up.Open up.Open up. Open up....." A repetitive command came flying from the robots outside, so loud it numbed our ears.

"SHUT UP YOU METAL ASSES!" I screamed with pain and agitation. Unlike the composed self I am known to be ,or so I think, I was given a stare by my brother and a chuckle from the old man. Right or wrong, it made them stop. It was getting hard to breathe. We had landed in a bedroom, it had just that one bed on it's north wall with two windows gracing the south & east walls. They were air tight, thick glasses with no way to open them.

"See if there is a opening under the door" My brother asked, "Oxygen levels will drop eventually.."

I poked under the door and found a hole, he threw me the the bed sheet to tug it tight in the hole. We knew it was not going to change a lot but we could go on with what little we had. It was getting cold, as I saw fog come out of my mouth. Some one was playing with the temperature. The windows had ice forming on it. I started to feel sleepy. Was it sheer tiredness or the lack of oxygen, I couldn't differentiate.

"Hey kid.Stay alive" Paulo finally returning me the reassurance. It felt in me that he only spoke when he knew he was sure of what he was going to say. I passed a feeble smile. Then I think I slept, faintly seeing my brother canvassing with the little life he had in him to find something, anything to get us out.

Maybe I did doze out for a little while, seemed like few seconds only. I opened my eyes to breathing again,felt as if I was inhaling life again. I could breathe! so can Paulo and Brother Ashar. There is oxygen. How so? You beat me to it, it wasn't like we wanted to question it. We didn't feel as tired, though our bodies still ached but hope filled us. Only to come crashing down as we realized the light was growing brighter and the rising temperature was stealing away the only moment of relief we've had in a long while. All of us hurried to the west window, the room was afloat, detached from the house we were in. When and how? We knew not. We were in space. Definitely out into nothingness and the light, it was the scorching sun.

'We are going to crash into the sun' all of us thought, there was no need of verbally expressing what we felt. We all were thinking on the same lines. And believe me, they were some terrible lines we were on. Then we heard this :

"Humans can think, Humans shall think.
It is a test. Won't you detest? 

I chose you, chose you all. Chose the best, chosen for best.
The old wise man, the sentimental girl,

and the one with the brain. 
Won't you now escape? Won't you now escape?" 

The hollow voice, just a voice, seemed flowing through everything. A thousand questions filled up, what or who was this, what did it mean?, just one question rose above all : 'How'd we escape?'. 

And that's that. The dream ended! IT ENDED! Can you imagine the rage and excitement I was filled with when I woke up! I can barely sum up the queries then and now that circled my head. It was thrilling, in and out. I often thought about writing it down as a full fledged story, maybe some day I will, but for now I will let it be as an incomplete dream. With neither a beginning nor an ending. 

Creative leak

Inside willingly,
but not trapped
succumbing to the responsibilities,
all held.

Young, I thought
I'd escape
Oh dear! was that a mistake.

Ideas are mere droplets,
clouds to rain are needed.
Willing is not totality,
Strength to do is central.

Take my word,
to achieve and reach
break your bones
or else all you'll breach,
is a thin lining to your inner self -
which is surely, sheerly
just the first step.

Just... the first step.

An Ordinary Guy: The Surprise

An Ordinary Guy: The Surprise:

They talk and she's fast forward. He's a bore and she's not.

A story that gives a lot leaving in you to read. :3

Revenge gone bad ( Chapter # 2 : The fight )

She waved to make herself noticed. He in nervousness, something he wouldn't usually feel around her, stood halfway up and sat immediately. Preparing mentally his side of the argument.

'You don't look good. Let's order food first... you respond well with a full stomach' she said seating herself right in front of him.
The remark did lighten the mood. But his insecurity by now has settled in deep. He began to marvel at the idea of her being in his life, how she changed him, all as if it will be gone the next moment. 

'Order something...' she said
He nodded still tied up in his thoughts. Looking through the menu, reading it but hardly comprehending. 

Faiza seeing him not response told the waiter 'He will have the same as me'
'Yeah sure..' 
'I don't want to rush you into anything, but before you kill yourself thinking about all that can possibly go wrong, I want you to think about the possibilities I am offered..'
'Possibilities follow us, we don't let go off people and be slave to it... there is never enough time then to redeem it all..' 
'I am done being emotional, it pays us no good ... being realistic makes me see what all I can have..'
'This is short sightedness on your part..'
'A good pay, secure future... you call it short sightedness?'

The waiter placed the steaming tray right in the middle of the table and their argument. As if the heat in the air wasn't already enough. 'Anything else?' the waiter inquired, got nothing and left. 

Ali began to eat. Slowly but steadily with no pause. She awaited for him to say something, finding hard to read him. Agitated , she spoke'Will you just say something. I have to be in the office in an hour and this is all the time I am getting to decide!'

He still says nothing but flinches at the mention of her going away. He felt it in him that he was losing her completely

'I need to know what you think, figure this out and let you know what I think.. if you'll just..'
'You want to know what I think? Isn't it obvious! Its too much for my ego and love to let you see you work like this let alone see you be far away!'

Her annoyance started to take shape.She felt as if she had deceived herself by avoiding this possessiveness of his, seeing it as endearing but it never was.

'You need to let me make my decisions... let me build myself while I am still young. For once see this.. see this beyond us!'

Their voices now raising 

'To me there is only us, I don't see a.. you or I. You are all I have and If I am being selfish then be it! I want you. I can live with the little we have... I won't bend my back for this world,the world has to do it for me!'
'You need to think, think beyond you! Even as we are together, you get to have a hold on this... '
'This is not true..'
'It is!'
'So what? I love you . Does that mean something. A muse, my passion....' he says it as he reminds himself of how she is the reason he gets out of bed everyday. 
'Let loose!'

She tightens her lips, slams the table.. and walks to leave

'Not before telling me what your answer is going to be' He remarks. Landing all the money he could find ,on the table.

 Both unaware and least bothered about the crowd that was gathering. He follows her steadily only to half convincingly ask : 'Answer me...  Tell me!..  have you already decided to leave me?' .. ' and so you see no point in talking to me'
'Oh shutup!' she replies in utter agitation.

Their infuriation can be felt. Both were right yet so wrong. Faiza's mind cluttered with thoughts of her future, on the scale with Ali on the opposite. If only he realized how easy this would be if he would stand by her. Ali on the other felt his purpose being lost. In his head it was simple, they loved each other. Opportunities would go by every now and then, all she had to do was understand this and stay with him. Distant would corrupt their love, rid them of the passion. 

Silently following her still, and Faiza being fully aware. He asked her painfully 'That easy? You will blow it off , that easy?'
'You're taking it in the wrong direction...it..' she stops halfway, feeling mentally tired and perplexed. Tears soon follow. Trying to hide them she wiped them off quickly and continued walking .. 'Just think not like yourself for a moment, Ali' 

He didn't want to cry, not in front of the world. But seeing her, knowing the comfort she provided, he felt like shedding a few tears. This drive was making it worse. 

'I just want you to not go... ' he made his final statement. Standing still this time.
'Yeah well, too bad... ' She said not turning once but advancing right into her office. 

He felt broken. A man with his morals, who  doesn't share emotions until they're concealed in a painting or a piece of art. Never giving it out raw. And so walked away, and started to sprint. Almost as if trying to escape the pain. Ending up to a place he knew well. The old factory.

Chapter 1 : http://rutabatariq.blogspot.com/2013/01/revenge-gone-bad-chapter-1.html

Catching up.

So I am done with my examinations and the first thing that pops in my head , as naturally, is of making the best use of summers. As expected and experienced, things do go wayward. The peace is remarkable, and quite addictive. I'd continue with my posts soon. This was partly to let you know that I am alive and have my eyes on all of you reading. Kind of in a creepy way.


Another dumb blogger. 

Break it up! It's Nothing fancy.

        I have long forgotten the idea of 'taking a break'. Cuddled up in my bed to watch a movie or play video games is the 21st century definition of a break. So here's the deal - I have exams coming up and I try to find ways to exert some of the tension by turning to TV, a good movie  etc. The idea that silently surfaces around my head is that these are the 'new' forms of taking a 'time-out' while it may seem effective on paper it is rarely of any  use. After hours of computer usage and reading out of paper , you'd think more time on computer or another form of screen will help your eyes breath a little. It doesn't. Infact - I feel suffocated and I start walking around the house just to get some air. It took me long enough to grasp the pattern I fell into and what was meant to be an hour or a half break suddenly turns into what seems like an age of restlessness.

Finally after some days, I walked up to my roof accompanied by nothing but my own self. Sat there for hours, it felt peaceful even though Karachi's heat can be cruel, the shade I sat under was just ideal with the right amount of air and sun. For that particular moment I left every form of disturbance behind  me and sat. Simply sat. Nodding on my ownself with disapproval for complicating the idea of 'relaxing'. It's not rocket science, it's an escape. I would have loved  a cup of tea and a book to be my partners in that moment but even that seemed like hampering the satisfaction.

This is not much of a categorized update on my blog but rather me sharing a very simple moment. Something that gave me a break from my own chain of messed up thoughts. To all those preparing for their exams, be it Matric or CIE , I ask you to take five every now and then but the right kind.


I feel happy.

  I can image how busy we are in our lives, So much of misery filling our existence every day that when a happy occasion comes knocking we get anxious, speculating as to why even happiness is there in the first place. Seriously! Where is the simple life lost? I agree it's a modern world with it's modern theories but that does not mean societies were belligerent idiots before us. We are to take something from the people that have gone by but left us their legacy. Their simplicity at first.

 Where's balance? Why is it that we are letting little meaningful things slip our hands like fine sand. I have a problem with the way we treat this world, considering it to be a menace and hence teaching our kids/siblings to tackle the world as if its cruel and nasty. Whether or not it is nasty, why aren't we more concerned with teaching them how to do good in the first place? To be good citizens first and then complain. To get in the dirt and make their opinions. In the coming future, imagine families not transmitting morals and good etiquettes but money. ONLY money and property. Well, I see that happening now. Its all very merry until we dig inside of ourselves and find nothing but void. You can transmit wealth generation to generation, put great emphasis on stability of life and the apparent worldly 'worth' of a person BUT if traditions get lost admits these vague plans, we will have no one to blame ourselves.

  It's a long run, a long long run. We have to be more concious of our actions more so today because money has a global and direct way to be earned and lived upon. Mannerism and ethics,  has to be taught and spread, and it starts from your own immediate peers, friends, family or cousins etc.  I don't devalue the idea of money or earning, I am not here to instil in you hatred against the 'green' paper because I am very well aware of it's importance. MONEY IS important BUT there is something we're losing and it will not be up for sales today or tomorrow. If we lose it, it will hard to get by as a community tomorrow.

  But for now, I am happy... worried but happy cause not all is lost, I don't have a lot of money but I still survive. Each day, I better do it with a smile cause hey, mom told me 'Money is not everything, you can have it all... all in the world but if passion's lost from  your heart... be afraid. THAT is when you're really the poorest'. So from where my mom stands, I am rich. Be soulfully rich and let them who come after you grab  THAT richness first and farmost.




Content quality must represent the creator to be an amateur Paint user. Thus exemplifying it to be my own work. It's a thought process owned to a single person, your beloved me, so its bearable to opinions and criticism.


(These are random writings I am doing as I preapre for my English paper this year May. Thought the least I could do is post them for you to read and criticise accordingly)

In the form of a series of diary entries or a letter home, describe the experiences and emotions of a character who travels abroad for the first time. In your writing you should bring out his or her feelings about the new country compared with the one he or she has lived in before.

                                        Kolachi, my imaginative spin.
‘21st January 1999 Dear Janice,
      Checking out of the airport was no trouble and as soon as I stood to call my cab out the realization soon dawned: I’ve officially landed my destination. I was too tired to notice anything as I started about this alien land, also because I partly slept half the time up to my hotel. Nothing feels new so far except for the faces, everything but their features’ the same; they share the same standard of being a mystery to me as any stranger back home would. I am writing to you from a regular hotel room, with ordinary services, which as common a man I am accustomed to.  
I am well so far, but too tired to continue writing. I will write back to you as soon as this mysterious Kolachi opens herself to me. 
Love to my little calves, and some to you, mama cow! Sergeant Bull misses you all already.
James. ‘

‘25th January 1999 Hi love,
    I only received your letter two days ago, I am good and doing what I came here to do, confirming my late grand-dad’s tales about Kolachi. Comparatively, he was very right. The east is different to the west. My 4 day tour so far has gotten me bump into various people, such variance was rare back home. I have no idea what most of the people here say, which leaves me a bit fuzzy at times but this rather incognito feeling makes me feel like the ideal by-passer. I feel like a free lancer, learning and adopting this new culture, its burdensome as well as a challenge.

 People here are … simple with little lives and little needs. They are mostly content with a day of food, satisfied on a discrete level unlike the corporate rush we suffer back home. I guess this is what gives them the high edge on hospitality, just yesterday I decided to step into a barber’s shop. As I stepped in the barber said something in his native language I was not able to decipher, so I just gestured him to shave my beard by roughly sliding my right hand over my chin. His smile was an assurance of his acknowledgment of me being a foreigner, so he dragged the chair out and pointed for me to sit on it. Had you been here, you would have admired this barber. He pulled out plenty of colorful magazines and showed me innumerable beard styles I could wish to keep, and as you know me to be; I am stern about my military legacy and tend to stick to my same self. I nodded reluctantly to him as he turned each page with a persistent smile and a patience unparallel to the aged man he was. I imagined if nature had not rid him of most facial hair or even some on his head, he would have been one heck of a rock star.  Anyways, I was getting late as I had tickets to local theatre, so I winded my finger telling him to hurry. He said something I had no knowledge to translate about and I just nodded hesitantly and once again he smiled... wide eyed this time however. Fast forward, the next glance I have at myself is that with a French beard. Yes go ahead, laugh. Throughout my military life I had not gone through one change, and this guy does the impossible. I can’t imagine what I would have done had the surprisingly pleasant smile of this toothless barber made me find a bit of humor in the situation. He nodded to be approved but I disappointed him. After a clean shave, he refused my payment. Holding both his ears, humbly sorry for his mistake. In fact he gave me one of his magazines to keep. Something I have never witnessed back home, we’ve been prone to foreigners so much that the idea of welcoming them seems lost.

Over the days I visited the local theatre, the beach and ate their food. All of which is so vibrant. If we can define ourselves to be classy and sophisticated, here in Kolachi, you can embrace the colors and vivacity of life, with even half of what we can have back home. The beach gave me enclosure to locality more than anything; I saw families’ more than unmarried couples. Giving a reflection of how part of city is still conservative, something I guess we’d be appalled back home.

To my surprise this city caters to various obvious classes, as I drove past the beach I witnessed the hidden, posh life. This city had shades, distinct non-mixable shades. I felt like two different people at two different stations, just by a few meters difference of the same beach. Where one I felt carefree and childlike, the other I felt more compiled and regal. I don't feel such immediate change even if I change states!

However, the food apart from the ligght sea food I had at my visit to the beach, is so spicy and  rich. I had an upset stomach for 2 days. A nasty feeling truly, but my tour guide Ahmed - a friend of sort he has become, smirked as he told me this was his daily meal. I like what we have at home, even more now. Consider my complaints to go down drastically after I land 2 days from now.

Kolachi does have a sense of capturing you; a week seems like an awful less time to truly get to know this place. It got me into those baggy clothes and strangly and rigged feeling ‘Khussas’ and slippers, making me a walking art palate, to think…..this is so refreshing from the pant and shirt we have back home. I can’t wait to give you this ‘shalwar- kameez’, a local clothing here and the glass bangles that I’ve bought around a dozen pairs even for little Alice... they will just lighten you up! Least from the cold out there, it will make you feel the warmth of this very hot Kolachi i've experienced.

Bulls coming soon, Love

James. ‘


Revenge gone bad (Chapter #1)

                   Cherishing memories only for they last

"I thought you'd be busy to even show up here" mouthed in a taunting tone and with an even defensive manner his partner replied 
"No man! to give up a chance to hang with you ... at our spot" Samar italicized 'our spot' enough to make Ali notice.
"Ha, our spot, huh? Dog! " remarked Ali as they both sat down on the bare ground  gazing at the place with crossed legs and drinks in their hands.

"Remember the day we dragged that egoistical brat out of 9th grade and brought him here"
And with a slight smile to his face Ali said "That ghost prank na?....it was so cruel  ha..... hahaha..he."
"Say it!.... say it!"
"He wetted his pants!" stated Ali hysterically  
"Any idea where that 67 kilo meat bag and 16 ounces of liquid up to these days anyway?"
"Ha! No, none"
"I have missed a lot"
"What the peeing machine? " 
"Ha naa.. this place.... "
"Unlike you... I don't let go of things easy.. "

It was a mild cold evening, with a cloudy sky hovering over their heads and an overall pleasant aura to accompany their remaining reminiscing conversation. The day ended late for the two of them and they parted ways soon after. Ali to his artistic world, a lovely solace for him,his apartment - full of rough artistry on the walls, unique sculptures  - what seemed to be made out of the most ordinary yet unimaginable things. He rested in his single taped-on-the-hind-leg bed which made a creak but he was as carefree as a baby, he felt blessed for the moment and cared least. It is strangely amusing how a fulfilling instance of happiness can derive you to recollect all that has ever been so special to you, almost as if it will force you to be thankful for everything. For Ali in that minute it was no different, as he collected his cell phone out of his baggy jean's pocket he blindly but deliberately pined the call button giving an impression that his life was not a beehive of thousands of people. 
He knew who he was calling .... 

"Hi .." said the voice on the call.It was placid, so tender that it brought a mellow gleam to that already satisfied ecstasy. 
"I met Samar..he inquired about you, gave us his blessing" light chuckle erupted on both ends "He has not change, the same ...calm and collective dude..."
"Yah...he uhmm ..sounds like he gathered himself well after his father's... demise"
"Oh yeah.. If he was me.....I would have been a very bad him..."
"I know it was a bad attempt at a joke but that dry..eh..come on"

His partner laughed a laugh which was detectable by a mile to be a forced one, so hesitant that Ali asked her straight away 

"Oye bobble head, what's the matta?"
"You know how Raheem has been talking about my promotion.. ... had the presentation I just gave went good... "
"well... it went good..like realllly good"
"Uhmmm and that is worrying?... raaaitt ...right... I totally getchya"
"No.. nothing about this is worrying on any point.... It's just the decision I have to take right after that is making me think a bit..and I was thinking about that only when the phone rang.....glad it was you....."  
"...I know.. I am wanted...always .. wanted" Ali cut her off to make a cheesy remark in his failed  husky voice which surprising did the job.
"Haha.. what would I do without you being an idiot while I want to have a serious moment?..I seriously want to take this offer... they are offering me security...and a good pay and and.. oh..."
"Hold on... a good pay? security? you can so totally marry me and take care of me.." 
"Haha shutup"
"No no.. I mean it.... just one thing.. why the second thought!"
" A new job location means...."
"... New job?...I meant marrying me dumbass" 

Silence prevailed as both went puzzled. Being sceptical about each others statement,Faiza finally broke the silence

" You... hello?"
"New job location?  you mean .. they are shifting your branch ?.."
"No..they want me to shift entirely .. to .. uhm.. another country .. it's a good 7 year contract!.."
"And the answer is an obvious no?... how will you.. and your mother.. and us? I just asked you to marry me.... and you realize I was joking about you taking care of me on  your pay"
"Ergh.. not the time for jokes.. "
"I .. know! but... I can take care of us... 7 year is a hell lot... it was decided we'd marry by the end of the year..."
"It's not like I am running away... gr.. I never ever thought of that...I am... was...a 80 percent certain on taking this job..."
"I won't allow it... the ring on your finger abides you to give this a thought!..7 years? .."
"What won't you allow me!? ... I need to be practical for a second here...I have responsibilities"
"Well so do I.. but have I been away ... on such a long commitment....knowing I have opportunities out there in the world.. just so I can strive alongside you.."
"That was never my decision, you as a man.. survive... I have to work my ass off as a man and be a women at my home.. you ..where's the side of you that realized this?!"
"Well the world does not exactly end at this one ... call"
"Just drink some water and think it through .. will you?... talk to you about this when we meet.... phone bugs the living day lights out of me..... "
"Meet me now!"
"No... I don't get off till 9 ... it's 4... you better have eaten ..cya"

The phone call ended on a sour note and as brightly the day had begun for Ali, as perplex it was turning out to be. Still ascertain he would make Faiza stay he was sadden by the turn of events.Ali had always taken Faiza seriously, though what started off as an arranged engagement was only followed by deep affection. Things like a good pay did not bother him much but it is true however, that if one has living souls other than themselves to live by, they need to walk the path of the common man. Ali was ready to abide even by that but art has it's share of struggle, this passion of his asked him more than what it could have offered. It gave him thoughts,contemplation,emotions but that can not feed stomachs,can it? His head was buzzing with thoughts, feeling a tinge of incompetence Ali stood up to pass his time with a good book. 

The book rested on his chest on the very  page he had started of from,when the clock struck 7 Ali  realized he had not read a word but rather lost himself to thoughts. He got up to take a shower and gathered all the arguments he was going to use on Faiza.

By 8 pm Ali had set off to pick Faiza up. Confused and also a bit intimidated he waited in the coffee house adjacent to Faiza's office, gazing properly to see if he could catch her. With that his phone rang 

"I knew you'd be at the Cafe,...I am on the extreme right....."

P.s. Chapter 2 to befall after Chapter 1.. geniuses! Thanks for reading though!

My trivial passions trivial voyage.

My blog is my reflection...sort of. It has a mixture of a lot of things and a couple of "those things" are resting in my drafts. It's amazing how a blog can give you an insight into your own self and others.

Slightly cause judgement here is very polite as I begin? *I love it like this*.Previously however, I was not very satisfied *read:was ill-experienced*. This ill experience came from the fact I was not writing for the moment, and all the while gazing for what w(sh)ould've come.What the un-known does to us or can do to us is.. unpredictable, very unstable in other words. And if I have learned anything it's that unsurety is exhausting.

In any aspect of your life one must be honest chiefly with their selves; I am now and at present as I'm writing, I feel at ease with it. Perhaps one reason for my 'unhappiness' was my 'expected happiness'.

I  was thinking of writing up on this matter myself on how expected happiness takes away the real happiness from us but then I stumbled upon this great and very well backed Ted Talk by Dan Gilbert. 

P.s  You should educate yourself about Ted talk if you're not YET AWARE! it's diverse for any and everyone who wants to improve and explore. Just purely amazing.

P.s.s I have this weird thing where when I ponder upon a question or query for a longer period of time, the answer majorly just comes to me in a way that is more subdue and organized then I could have ever make it out to be. *JazakAllah for that ^_^ * but gives me a sense of never giving up.(Will try to talk about this later) 

Watch it...... NOW *scare ass look* okay maybe this look works on  you  :

                 Enough masti..... go ahead, I promise it won't be a waste of time.

 "Natural happiness is what we get when we get what we wanted, and synthetic happiness is what we make when we don’t get what we wanted. In our society, we have a strong belief that synthetic happiness is of an inferior kind." (Dan Gilbert)

It's amazing how a simple phenomenon must, today, be broken down to be explained;Just beyond the measures. Simple is and has been complicated, possibly. And if that is remotely the case, for even a dozen of real life scenarios, our life can't be this muddled up.

So my trivial passion's voyage eh? It's about finding a bay. Let this bay represent your interests/likings. A bay where you'll happily settle down and enjoy what you do. Now,with my short experience you won't really mind being alone at first, cause you won't care but the natural ability of something that has honest roots to shine will sheen ... and since humans have the nick to be curious you will always end up having buyers, praises and critics etc. The truer ones will more likely be to come to you when you sow the seeds that way only i.e. the scale shall favour you with deep positivity if.

In the end it will all depend on how either you want to settle for the given and present happiness or the one that plays pretend in your head.

So let's make 'simple our new intricate complicate'
Lets sail.