The Versatile Blogger Award


Hi everyone, I have been trying to stick to writing more than usual and blogging more frequently even though the test date only draws nearer; hmm maybe this is a counter-stress mechanism developed by my brain. Any of the ways, it’s good to be putting ticks on my planned posts and here comes another one of them: The versatile blogger award. I took long enough with my first nomination that I received two more and so I got confused between doing 7 or 21 separate facts but that would be revealing too much of myself so I decided on a decent 10 altogether (no please don’t give me that look😰😮🙈)

Awright so getting all set, I was nominated by these three ammazing bloggers: Thepakistanisgirlsguide (zee and em)Farees and Sara Ahmed. Thank you so much guys, now that you may be aware of my passion for these awards [never mind how long I took to post, things weren’t just going my way 😞(okay I know that’s not an excuse😒) but still..😟😟] I am only so much happy and excited to do these. On a side note, please do check these three blogs out because the funny thing is each one of them is as diverse as Earth’s poles. One blessing with Virginia Woolf’s stream of consciousness writing style; the other full of sensitive sensible advices and anecdotes of two relatable lives and the third full of reviews and short freestyle write-ups.


-Thank the person that nominated you and include a link to their blog.
-Nominate at least 15 blogs of your choice.
-Link your nominees and let them know of your nomination.
-Share 7 facts about yourself!

So here are some facts about me:

1. I am a Scorpio (zodiac sign)
2. My personality type is advocate-infj.
3. I am usually unable to understand myself.
4. I secretly wish to have Rumi or Shams of Tabraiz in my life.
5. I love shooting stars.
6. I have an undying desire (since childhood) to visit all the houses in my neighborhood and study the interiors.
7. I easily fall in love with broken people.
8. I am a coffee person but still find myself making tea in the kitchen because Farees romanticizes about it so much.
9. People think my hands are adorable and children often hold and squeeze them (for me they are just too small)
10. I love Allah.

So this is it^-^ I hope this helped giving you guys another peek into my chaotic self. I hope lol xD I will try to nominate some of the new blogs I have discovered over time. I may not be able to nominate a total of 15!!

Vidisha kaushik
Hannah Garner
Geeky Muslimah
Doni W
Zubiya Rauf
Farees (lol even if you won’t do it again xD)


You Were One Of a Kind


It has been hurting, it has been hurting for a while now. It has been hurting since last Wednesday when the PIA plane crashed on its way to Islamabad. It has been hurting for all those 47 unknowing souls which lifted up without last goodbyes and kisses; which lifted up as their bodies rolled down under the scorching debris of the burning plane. But most of all, it has been hurting for you.

Not that the other 47 souls were unimportant or their deaths not important enough but that a mass death has this thunder effect of reverberating through the hearts and rattling through the bones of whoever heard it yet effecting those the most who were standing beside the tree which severed due to the lightning bolt. Every death is a lightning bolt and those surrounding trees, the loved ones. And although I am not a loved one, I stand in the vicinity of those, who loved you. Admired you, idealized you.

And there’s so much I want to write but there is so less of what I can express. Express though reminds me of those few broken verses which I wrote when I learned of your departure from this world; when tears adamantly refused to flow out of those defiant eyes which only blinked in astonishment and incredulity. Probably I should put them up because, perhaps, I may not feel a clenched heart in my chest when I look up to the 7th December of 2017 and feel like I did nothing. At least I’d be able to tell myself that I wrote for you, even if you never will know it now. Would I even live up to the December of 2017? Can’t say, but here’s to be on the safe side:

And I shall drink
All the pain that
Pleads to flood out
Through my eyes
For oceans of Salt
water will not do
Justice, to the agony of
This aggrieved heart

Since it’s not your leaving
That leaves me Distraught
But to know that
You left this
Tavern so early
When it was still so
Vile, bleak,
and filthy, To depart

And as this severance
Marks an end to the
Servant role to thy Lord
I feel even smaller
Among a handful of
Too weary, too tired
To do my part.

You were one of a kind, Sir Junaid Jumshed. And I say that with the hope that you may be able to hear these words, see these words, feel these words as they travel through space from one satellite to another in form of eery digits and shapes once I press the ‘publish’ button. You didn’t just transform from a popular lead singer (whose band was considered Pink floyd of Pakistan) in your search of truth; to a humane scholar, but you transformed many behind you. Many.



For The Hearts Which Have Forgotten To Break


So you hate-talk? You execrate that unfaithful heart which betrayed you. You hurl accusations in groups of old friends and homies, at the heart which turned into a stone; seeking for solace in their hushes and on their shoulders, which would be so hard- no-impossible! Impossible to achieve for the many days, perhaps many weeks or many months to come ahead. And a few weeks later when you have rowed half-way through this cumbersome ocean of what people fancy calling ‘moving-on’; you suddenly come across one of their pictures/voice notes or whatever trigger-to-past-memories and you feel this pang in the stomach as if someone just punched you straight in the chest!

That smile on the sinner’s face sets the rowing boat on an automatic backward mode, giving wet eyes and a bout of mauldin self-pity. Miserable! Isn’t it? The intensity of dislike for someone you liked so much one day, ’cause where there was once love, now there’s only hate! I know; I understand; they are really the sourest lemons life has thrown at you. It is the worst phase you have had in your 20 years long of a life.

But what if, just what if- this is not the worst case, what if there’s a case worse than this worst case? No wait, what if you listen to that old song they had sent you but you don’t get a flashback? What if you don’t feel that pang, you had been so well accustomed to, when you see yet another click of their cheesy grin and sparky eyes? What if the person who passed by leaves a faint trail of similar scent that once gave you butterflies and later gave you a bitter-sweet taste on the tongue but now doesn’t even make you shift your nose, let alone producing that uncanny tingle at the bottom of your gut? In fact, what if you actually crash into them in some departmental store, like you had when you first met, but your eyes-not even for once- blink away with that hint of sorrowful grief? What if you suddenly stop relating to all those sad songs? What if getting high on marijuana doesn’t feel like a necessity to get through the day anymore? What if reading their old chats doesn’t make you ruefully smile anymore? What if you sit on the bathroom floor, once again, but this time even after recalling every ounce of pain you have felt, tears never well out of your eyes? What if the moisture doesn’t even brim them? What if you stare at the ceiling fan with insomniac eyes, waiting upon the memories to flood in-in the dark but all what floods in is a huge gush of void and nothingness??

Do you know what’s the worst case?

It’s cold hands on humid nights. It’s a buzzing sheet of emptiness wrapped around your brain, not allowing you to think what trifling task you had to do next after completing this one. Its getting pricked by a thorn and only realizing you got pricked after the first tiny scarlet drops appear on the skin. It’s listening to their name accidentally slip out of one of the friends’ tongues and looking at them with empty hollow eyes as they exchange worried glances with each other. Its swiping through pictures, coming across their’s and swiping on to the next one without even producing a nose exhale from your lungs, which you still manage to do on the lamest of jokes! It’s having them in your dreams and waking up with a poker face. Its feeling the same with or without the marijuana dose of the day. It’s sitting with the pen and paper to spew all the hatred out for the person, as instructed by your counselor/psychologist, but being unable to write a single word. It’s being unable to feel secretly happy on their break-up and sorrowfully injured on their patch up. It’s sitting on the bathroom floor, struggling to cry and shout but becoming horrified by the unnatural stifling force from within. It’s laughing with only your mouth on all the jokes cracked in the group. It’s watching someone cry and move past him/her without a glint of compassion in the eyes!

Do you know what’s the worst case?

It’s a heart sans Sympathy. A heart sans Antipathy. A heart full of Apathy! That’s the worst case. When you are unable to feel hate. Unable to feel love. Unable to feel pain. Unable to feel joy.

When you are unable to Feel! Yeah that’s what happens when you are dead. Already. You don’t even have the suicidal urges anymore!

And I wrote this 800 words long piece of nothing, because I wanted to, I had to. I write this without the fear of whether you’ll read it till the end or leave it mid-way because I honestly do not care if you understand, comprehend or relate with this. I know there are people who would! Even if they sit in the farthest of the corners of the world. They would! My words are not mere words. They are empathy to those who were once capable of feeling but now sit with a paralyzed heart and opaque eyes. I want to tell you guys that I am here and I understand that there’s a case worse than the worst case which this world pays overrated attention to. And I am praying for you that you start feeling again, even if its more of melancholia, hate and pain, I just hope you start feeling again! Ameen.