Wise is hard

It's not about being heartless. It's more difficult to know what's wise and to control yourself from doing what you want to tho you can do it, than declaraing your love and passion openly. Everytime someone has to be wise in order to save others tho that person has to attend his own bleeding funeral with no one but herself to attend it. It's sad and strong while no one knows what you're tackling. Telling what you're going through is easy, holding back is hard, it's very hard to resist someone while you want someone to talk to. It's heartbreaking but no one understands.

Lie

I told a lie 
she thought that what I
loved the most 
was her to host
It was all along my seperated pal
I was struggling to get her, leaving all
It wasn't a lie
It was that i was a little shy
She found me when i was a little lost
But i know I didn't mean when i said i loved you the most
I cried and thrived but i did tell lie
Maybe i was a little high
A mark on my thigh
from your hands and your tie
I was living a lie
just a breathing lie
You saw what you could have
Then you flipped as you should have
I didn't complain
I invited it in my domain
I creeped myself out
as you snuggled some new bees about
I am no complaining
I am just craving
How much is it amazing
to watch someone deporting
From your own supporting.

Perception of me

She was in love with the perception of me

I was dying every day little by little 

She told me what i was thinking 

I silently nodded she guessed it right 

Her love was untakably enough 

She saw what she wanted to see

She clouded herself with her plans

Where everyone puppeted roles out.

I was one of her favorite dolls

I saw myself being glanced as a fancy princess in a ball

I knew what she did,why she did

She was a piece of me grown wild

I read her thoughts out loud

Yet tried hard not to slip a sound out

I was a perception, nothing real at all

She was in love with the perception of me

And i was afraid to let her down

Nafs (ownself)

It's not the game to be safe
It's the battle we're afraid to fight,
the blood we're scared to shed.
It's not the play to be played at home,
It's costumed in jewels with it's dreadful face

Chained

A chain followed me throughout the voyage, I knew it was chain costumed in a glittery, winy fakeness, I never let it swallow inside of me. It left then emerged, it told me it was sorry and it had changed. I resisted, it twisted and I was chained in no time. When I followed, I got to know how it sorrowed, everything around it. I was chained, every single struggle was in vain. Then I found one axe, emerging within my chest. I broke the chain and all of that faking craze. I was in peace, got away from it and was in ease.

Reveal

Revealing was never her thing. She hid under the layers of strangeness and saw quietly who accepted strange and weird her. Many cropped her out, many thought her to be something bad; she wasn’t. She decided to finally reveal herself, all the veils and coverings fell down, revealing all that she was, they were mesmerized but now she knew who was hers and who wasn’t.

Pink skinned

She was the curly hair in the world of straight hairs. She was pink skinned in the world of white beauty. She chewed so gracefully that hardness melt at its touch. She was sad and magical in her own way. Her only problem was; she was never conquered, no matter how hard they all tried she never let the pink pigments go away. She was one of the blossoms they have ever seen growing. She was the garden in the world of thorns. 

Cage

A cage is a cage doesn't matter if it's decorated with flowers

Burnless impressions

                         Our problems are like those impressions on our legs when we sit in the same position                          for a longer time, they look permanent though eventually they disappear not causing any                          permanent harm or injury but what about the permanent burns that other people in the world are getting which only become more severe and severe with time

Fighter

Why do we sometimes lose the winning battle? Because we settle down and shut down our weapons, thinking it is over, we have won while we forget that it will never be over. Everyday either you win or lose. A moment of leisure will become the decade of humiliation. Never settle down, be a fighter, fighting his way to the top.

Part of me

I was dazzled to see the human part of me. How when it slipped, my hands struggled hard to make it stay. I never decided that but my human, materialistic part did. So would I ever deserve to be blamed? So, am not to be held accountable for a thing? No. Not always do we do things unconsciously, other times we are making choices, leading or misleading us. We are what we decide of us to become. There's no such thing as luck or destiny. They do take us to places, or even put us in situations but we are the ones always deciding to do or not to do. We have to wipe the shady blinds off of our eyes to acknowledge that our life is in our hands and it is and always have been a matter of our passion and enthusiasm and never any other factor. It is always us who are deciding what life we want to live and what accomplishments we want in our life.

Suicidal

 She stood there with bandages, wounds and scars. All said she didn’t tell she was going to die. She stood there with her hand hanging up, she thought someone would notice she was giving up on her own. After she killed herself, they claimed she committed suicide out of nowhere. They were lying, didn’t have the words to admit that they were blind while she was right there showing that she had given up and she was not afraid to kill herself to find peace. She was dead inside but they only saw her not eating food. She was there planning her own death while they laughed and ate. They claimed she would have had personal problems while not knowing someone made her life so hopeless that to live a calm life she had to take one. Though she took her life but she took the revenge on all of them. She removed all the scars and hurtful signs, then she hung herself to finally portray the hopelessness that she had been living throughout the reign. She lived her pride though by dying but she never repeated the signs she showed them all.

Maps

What ifs take us down, our map for life was pretty mapped out by people around us but when we were given the sketch book to draw our own map, we kind of broke our pencils and just never found the courage of touching them again, we got lost, forced maps made by us, we started walking down them. we knew we were moving forward in life, we were breathing, feeling and still happy or sad with life but the determination, the assurity we lacked, we lacked the confidence in our souls, we realized how fragile we have been all this while yet portraying the fake strengths we ride.

Be graceful

Our generation apparently has everything healthy and where they seem to be socially connected, they are mentally disturbed and isolated, why is that so? Why after every blessing, every healthy body part, everything still intact do we still feel as if our life could be a lot better and we just aren’t contented. Our generation has everything, but they still find things to be sad about, to grieve over, to just be alone and feel bad about their selves. It is all because WE think that we could have had a lot better than what we have, a prettier face, a better life, and better anything. We are in the depths of being ungrateful. We have made idols that we worship everyday yet we claim that one lord we praise. We are an independent unit in a dependent network of people in our lives yet we are so fierce and mean that only independence is what we see and misuse. How can we be so sure of what we are doing? Where is the measuring scale of right and wrong? How can we answer ourselves at night, on the couch that what we did or said was right or wrong? What about the people below us? What about people who are still getting through everyday just to find something to eat, to live in a place where they have exactly nothing and no one? Is it that our ungratefulness have decayed us? Or maybe we all lack the capability to be graceful enough to thank the blessings we have in our lives. Being contented with present would surely get our generation out of this unreal pool of sadness we have surrounded ourselves with.

PS

It wasn't about the natural inclination that we had
It was that she loved me and accepted me when no one did
She was fighting to be seen with me while others cropped me out
It was all her that we had covered such a long voyage in just no time
If it had been me, i know we would have been so far apart 
It was all about her, just that one person trying so hard to make me stay
But that didn't define the nonexistence of my interest
It was always there, too shy to just show itself.
PS: Irum you wanted me to write something for you for so long, so here it is :") 

Wrong engagement

I tried to engage myself to people again but a piece, a big one, was constantly melting away the thought of being happy. I wasn't happy it was just a label i gave to my engagement. But illusions and the world are so much of a synonym that i sometimes illus-ionize the world and forget that reality is ugly, it has no heart, it is give and take on strict scale. Why is it too difficult to forget the taste of Allah's love? Once you have tasted the real, the very purest of Allah's love, you just can't escape it, no matter how much lies you tell yourselves. No other engagement is then engaging, it is just you and Allah.

{For when Iman is in his heart, no evil could occupy the same space}

Rarity of heart

Being passionate and a perfectionist was always difficult. She knew it was maybe that she never found her happy ending, she never gave her thoughts a priority, always keeping herself busy, giving excuses how it was all fake and toxic for her heart ,and she was always busy with living others dreams, she knew it was making others happy but what about her heart? What about it? Asked the girl in the blue scarf. “It has never loved yet know how to thump at the gaze of lovely love, it was never allowed to go out in the gardens of various doves, it kept quiet, was sorrowful, waiting for the perfect time, didn’t know that it’s passion and perfection was too bright for this world to see, so it stopped shining, it went into those shades that hides a thing underneath as if it doesn’t exist. Many people came and unknowingly stabbed, kicked and hurt it in the shadows but it knew, it just knew that one day, one fine day it will beat again, feel those longed thumps that it has waited for but hurt is not all that it got, there were blessed things that not mingling with every other dove gave her, the heart possessed purity, it had that rarity that everyone wished for, but she knew, she knew that her heart belonged to someone, she never yet met.” Said she.

Being adult

In adult life, It doesn’t matter how dirty, less faithful or messed up others past or even present is, only people who are sweet, respecting enough and friendly enough to make us smile and just show a mere care are enough for us to care and adore back. Adult life is really a mess where you’re never sure if you’re doing the right thing, with the right people, for the right purpose, you just do and risk it all out, learning if failed and earning if succeeded. I always thought that life was cruel to those who did wrong to others and themselves and those were misery less who didn’t while justice of Allah was right in front of me but in adult life I saw people successfully making their way up, though their deed stank worse than died crow but you know what justice of Allah is still there. It’s just now that it is hidden, now it is solely b/w Allah and the people. Allah now not only free us but see quietly too that who is even after that open rope going to come back  to Him, want from Him and who is fleeing away from Him, disgracing His blessings in all the ways possible. Being an adult doesn’t mean you get to talk dirty openly, not even thinking twice what crap you’re spilling out, being an adult doesn’t mean you get to touch women bodies, NO. It is about being more sensible, not only just seeing your choices but others too and accepting and respecting them. It is about caging the wild sensations ready to just free themselves from the ropes and do something that after doing, you regret. Stains of temptations aren’t visible but they last a life time. Controlling temptations maybe really difficult and only strong willed and focused person can do, fighting everything inside of him when everyone is doing it but those who are following their temptations are the weakest, they are not even for a second doing anything brave or something to be labeled as love or true feelings, they are playing with others and themselves as well. They just don’t understand their life and bad choices aren’t just affecting them, if it did it wouldn’t have mattered that much but it doesn’t work like that, people connected to him gets affected, in every way. And that’s why instead of being selfish in their decisions and actions they need to take a deep breath and think wisely for a second that what is their action actually going to do?

Love

Love is never about molding others and only loving the already lovely features of others but it is about dealing and living with imperfections that maybe darker than their skin color, their bright faces and their words. Love is never about picking up all the good traits and leaving the bad right there, no it isn’t love, it is as if you pick and shop various stuff from market, leaving the already open, messed up things on the rack. Humans are not things, Humans breath, they live, they have a pumping heart, that sometimes ache because of your false pickings, your unreal expectations. You shouldn’t just scatter your wants all over the place while not even bothering a single thing about the other one. It isn’t love, it is called being satisfied with yourself and being overly self-obsessed while knowing you have someone who is less adorable, less smart, just less something from you. You satisfy your superiority need that’s all you’re doing, it isn’t love, It isn’t

                                                                                

Metro

They said that the bus lead to hell
It had no stop they said.
I was made to travel that bus
I was shunned from the heaven 
My senses left me staring through the front screen blankly,
Thinking of the end
I was that tilted side of the road which gets water no matter what.
Someone with mighty coin they said
Had the brightest destiny they said
As they described that mighty coin, i felt something burning my hand
I saw it shining in bright lemon
I was told that mighty coin smelled like melon
I wasn't sure why did the coin chose me?
What could it be that made me that lucky?
Tears with memories of mother praying for me flowed and flowed until i left the hell bus

Canvas

She was one of the canvas that painted its self. She wasn’t prude but her flamey air that she lit around her was only for tasteful people to enter and stay forever. She was sweet but her sourness could make you forget the sensation of sweetness. It was something about her being passionate yet to only people that mattered and stayed for good.  Her acting up all confident was very heart trembling for her, she was never sure, yet portrayed the best of her. She knew life would give things that she didn’t wish for, but she was aware too that those were the spices needed right in her plate. A fine, well mannered, shy yet so fierce and unpredictable. She was a storming weather, turning the tornadoes into rainbows, so suddenly.

Costume

It's such a blessing that our souls can't be seen. The way we've costumed and destroyed ourselves. I bet we ourselves can't stand the reflection.

Direction

Compass will not benefit you, if you’re not willing to follow it, same as Quran, you don’t get benefit unless you’re willing to follow it.

Ocean

A chaotic ocean holding finite ends and infinity altogether, have you were imagined that what if you were an ocean? What would you be? Infinite middle or the ever ending shore? I would be the shore, giving life to the being, hit by chaotic, angry waves. I will be their ground, their life line, their reason to live. What is so wrong with that? I’d sing to them the melody of water and bonding, they’d live up, they’d grow, and their all nurture will be because of me. Isn’t that enough reason to be happy? I’d hit the rocks and the hard, ashy mountains, they’d tell me the stories of hard shell and soft heart, wouldn’t you want to live like that? I’d transport the tales and lovely gaze, I’ll mesmerize. I’ll crush myself under the legs of the beings, my foamy form would melt to watery blue, on every touch.  I’ll wipe the tears, yet crying all the time. I am water, though, but why can’t I cry? My watery tears will hide under the layers of angry waves, my love will be my escape.

Drunk heart

Heart was marked by many of those spots, I cleaned, I bleached, I washed, and I rubbed. This one rub was engraving the heart, I wasn’t ready, and didn’t invite it either. I thought the spot would go like the others, I stayed, but then craved. It’s thought started to merge in my thoughts, I fell, just couldn’t sleep well. I screamed, with fear, thinking it would leave me if I tear, was wrong, got drunk; right into its trunk. Its trunk had the branches similar to mine, I felt, I liked, and gave it all of mine. I was changed, yet chained, not knowing what I felt, I closed, what I chose, questioning every bit of me. It blinded me then guided me, I found love, raised love, just didn’t let it enlighten me like a little dove. It was there, but I feared, it will take me away from my life, I knew it as drug, life and some foreign wine. It was pure, somewhat sour; for those who just didn’t see but when I saw, that I have wronged, every bit of me, I was shaken, somewhat taken and I gave myself (to it) up.

Humans

Humans are fierce, knowing not a single person or thing has  the next breath measured yet take everyone for granted until they are gone, then humans understand the need, the value they held for us. It is just too much courage that humans show, their own breath isn’t measured for them yet they portray and live as if they know their life time and period they are here for. Being proud doesn’t suit us, we are just not assured enough of us to be proud. One more bizarre trait of humans include; Humans grantness of the present while when present and everything that it holds is gone, then they cry with regret and they’re ready to accept any misery that come their way. It isn’t about being a game of proud and grantness. It is about being a game, the sooner we understand, the sooner we accomplish the yet unaccomplished

Paar chana de

Kacchi meri miṭṭi kaccha mera naam ni

Haan main na-kaam ni

kacchiyaan da hunda kaccha anjaam ni

eh gal aam ni

kacchiyaan te rakkhiye na umeed paar di <3 <3 

aṛiye aṛiye haan ni aṛiye

#addicted #noori #why_you_so_awsome
Dholak is just on the track <3

Reflection.

Blinking eyes blankly through the walls trying so hard to just understand what love and pain is. Why can’t we just stay happy and never feel pain or guilt or anything breaking us. Why can’t we just LOVE, be loved and stay happy. Why am I feeling as if something is passing by while I am sitting here doing absolutely nothing. I am blank, I have spilled black ink on my white papers, I am afraid to turn the pages forward, am afraid the remaining pages will get stained by this ink. Am scared to just move forward, why do we have to move forward? Leaving behind so many sensations and feelings and words, so many people and our thread with them. Regrets, only regrets remain and I sit there looking like a joke and trying to push myself to just get done with the life. Trying my smile not to fade away, to just not let people know the sad me, the regretful me is still there behind the sparkly smile. I am not ready to accept defeat, never but I am tired, so tired to just keep walking when that’s something I am not willing to do. It is not my path, not my destination. I never stood up for this, it was given to me by luck. Why can’t we just stop what we’re doing and just run away to do what we want to. I am chained by these pre-defined actions and things to do that now my throat is backing out on me, am dried , out of breath, just trying to find one mole of oxygen to just live. I am not dead, neither am I dying but am not living too, am just surviving, just continuing what life has defined for me.

It is painful to just watch yourself go down the path you never saw yourself going, watching yourself falling down so bad and not being able to help your own self. It is the purest defeat you can get. I was there looking so helpless, at my own self just tearing down and not being able to support my own self, I couldn’t, the power of holding and speaking out was taken from me. I am heartbroken to just see so much of hatred and pain. I am not the one who is ready to just put down the sword so early but what should we do while battling our own self? Where every single scratch will be tearing you apart and every single stitch you’d stitch yourself, only you are your enemy and worst is you war and live in the same place; the same body. I am not to be blamed for this war am going through. It is not that I have never been at war with anyone, I have been and I have won mostly, at least I have felt like a winner, but this time it is me, against me and best or worst I know everything about my enemy but my hands are tied to just make any move against myself. I am not afraid to hurt myself, but I don’t trust myself to take the right sides. Besides when did I say I am sure of myself? I never was and never will be. Humans are too proud to even think that they possess even an ant like power to control even their own thinking.

Breathing the air but am just not able to inhale the sensations I need. Am missing out on so many things but maybe this thought solely is making me miss out things put in my plate. Problem was never the people or the things that were given to me, problem have always been resided in me, growing bigger and stronger right inside my own skin. Wouldn’t it be suicide if I peeled my skin off even to just get rid of this parasite. I am backing out on myself. Would you back out too? 

Paper boats

This world is an ocean, with waves quivering in anger and destruction, always ready to put us down, we are the boats, so tedious and lean, stumbling from one wave to another, trying to just find that stable zone/phase of the ocean where no force, no restriction is against us but this ocean was design to break us, to break the paper boats that we are, so we can sink in the water of mercy and find the One we have left far under the seas of our hearts; our lord. This world will never go against what it was designed for, we need to acknowledge that world is the smile with ulcer, always hurting once you have laughed. But with Allah your smile is always that starts from the heart and ends on the lips. This place is forever an ache and an everlasting zone, comforting stable state, we all are looking for, doesn’t exist. But the designer of the both worlds call out to us 5 times a day how do we respond? And how much? The Supreme lord awaits us to just ask one, just one time of His mercy and blessing and all our filth is cleaned and we are blessed with more than what we desire. That Allah has the everlasting happiness and success. Flee towards Him, lets flee towards Him before we hit the shore which has nothing but sand to offer.

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Hijab love

After these Eid-ul-azha vacations, my mind was purely dumb and i even tried to persuade myself to skip the university today, but i had this presentation so i had to go. I barely slept the last night, was blogging and working for  "Chaaon sab k liye". Well, i had a pretty rough day, i had people telling me i shouldn't wear what i wore ever, on my face. I screwed up the presentation for my group, we still got 3/4  *wink.
But this post made my day <3 i wonder if such people exist in real who really adore hijab on a women's head. Such an incredibly sweet statement to talk about ^_^
What do you think? Are you in the adore group or the other, let me know
Enjoy habibis and habibtis

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Beginnings

New beginnings are always hard, I always cling to old things, old people, old thoughts, old feelings; old me. Newness is difficult, acceptance takes time, but in the process of adopting novelty and new you, the “good old you” is lost. New version of you is not a problem because every different situation in your life demands a new you, a whole new set of rules you have to commute.  But problem is when you stop being what you are and start to live a life that is not yours, in your life, you start to adopt new things, new language, new rules, new company and a totally different you, thinking that the past mistakes that the old you have committed must be erased by erasing the whole version of old you. But at that time you need to ponder really well that even your new version will lack a bunch of things, even today you will make mistakes and cry over them but where there are your bad and sour shades there are your lovely and sweet shades as well. “No one in the world is a full villain we all are a mixture of Hero, villain, side hero, helper etc.” In fact we are not one character, we all are bunch of characters, playing our roles where we have to. Playing lead, playing villain, playing oppressor, playing innocent but in the end we are what situations put us in and we have to play the best suited role for us. Accepting new you with a blend of old you is growth, and becoming a new you with shunning the old one is oppression to your own self.

Grow|Love|Share

Baby bell 💕

Snow bell, my munchkin ^_^ my first priority. He is the one little missing piece that found me when i was in 9th grade. 
I always wanted to have a kitten but my mother was just like all the other "desi moms" she was afraid of cats and the same old moms' way of denial was that cats poo anywhere and it is not "pure". Well, i pretty much forgot about how much i needed a kitten when at last my kitten found me. it is not that it is a stray cat nor did it found me some where. the point i'm trying to make here is that Rumi said; whatever you want, wants you too. And infact it is better that what you want finds you 💕. One day my brother brought something small and moving in a small bag. I was so scared of my baby bell at first because we the Pakistani people,specially take newness as something harmful or dangerous. But in no time he became the reason of my smile, giggles and love. He is weirdly cute and smart, simple cat ^_^
and best part is not only i adore and love him but he does too 💕💕 His breed is Turkish angora, and this breed mixes up well with the whole family but only one person in the whole family is their priority. Bond that bell and i share is so adorable. Because of the grade i am in and amount of study i have to do, I usually have notepads, laptop and a silent place to study, mostly it is late at night and even though bells' life is all sleep, eat, poo and repeat, even then he leaves everyone, every facility and joins me wherever i am 💕💕.
 I want  all those cats and pets lovers to know that these creatures are more than a pet, they are our babies 💕 they will never say it but they show, so before it is too late, just love them through their soundless love 💕 and let them know how much they mean to you :'')

Its time we stop

Enough of your shrill scream

Enough of your crushed dream

No more pain, no more wounds

No more dying every day.

Enough of their oppressive weight

Enough of their suppressive hate

No more darkness, no more ache

No more dying every day.

Enough of waiting for that day

When you won’t die every day.

we should really look after the stray animals and look out for the real life monsters that are hurting/beating those poor, silent souls. we have to start speaking out. If you keep your mouth shut today, then tomorrow don't question; standing among those evil, heartless monsters. Lets create  a healthy life for creatures we live with :). STOP animal abuse.

Suspense coming your way

“Sophia! Have you seen moon? Have you seen its’ phases? Our life takes us from those predefined, pre-looped phases but doesn’t that mean even if hardships hit us, there is going to be a day of success, a day when we rise. We are the moon not the thunderstorm.” He said softly by grabbing her hand while looking right into her eyes. 
  

 ~These are the lines from a story i wrote for a certain competition. not only this post :P is to make you guys curious but to also grab your prayers and hopes for the competition as well :'')  wish me luck and keep reading & supporting.

Best human trait

Imporatncy, the factor of importancy and scale varies with your experiences, surroundings, your age, capability of thinking; all define the importancy of things to you. At the early age I was obsessed with dolls, things to eat and play, more of things to play. Then I grew my character was more important, self-respect and these things mattered and what people had to say mattered, then I came to the age when no longer these all mattered that significantly. With life our feelings, extent of feelings, goals; everything changes, it varies.  We lose, we get, we win and most importantly we are always learning. That is the most precious trait we could ever have.

PS; I have used, well invented a new word "importancy" there is no such word as "importancy" but to describe what i had to say, it was a need. plus a human made this language what if a human like me innovated it a bit *winks.

Just tired

But I am not going wrong I am just lost. How can I decide to be any one thing out of so many characters I know? I am puzzled and in dilemmatic situation to choose. What is good or bad, what people want or what they don’t, I care or I don’t. Trying so hard to be perfect yet still expected to be someone nicer. How do I choose? I am no smart person. I am dumb and I mean that, I learn slow, I know that, I have to struggle for things I don’t just get them. But what should I be? Whom should I be? I am torn, I am sick of choosing now. At the end am hurting others one way or the other and I am being sorry for all the ache I have given and the marks I can’t erase and then I question myself what good have I ever brought? Am I really a bad person?

Abuse

lets talk about abuse;

Abuse is such a big word that we just can't limit it by defining it. But then again to pin it all up lets say for the sake of discussion that it is un-permitted touch, action or even gaze. it is not even about the one who abuses, it is mainly about the one who is being abused. because abuser is not the one getting effected mentally or physically, the one being dragged into all this un-invitingly is the one being abused who is loosing at the end of the day. one of the main reasons of child abuses' continuously growing rate is that the abused doesn't speak out a word out of fear or trauma. we need to make these kind of issues an important topic of our discussions so that people may understand that these things are to be told so the people who really cares help you out of this and secure you from the monstrous being.

Humans & their shades

Some of my recent work for an initiative i am working with :)
#Chaaon_Sab_k_liye