I Missed The Blogging Fam!!

When I made  my last post some time in 2017, I vowed to myself not to write on wordpress again until I had gotten a laptop. For those of you who didn’t know, I used to make blog posts using my tablet and that sure was one tedious task.

Since it’s pretty obvious, I finally got my hands on a lovely laptop Alhumdulillah. You can also appreciate my sense of commitment once I have made a vow or promise xD

But I haven’t also written ever since University started. I have safely landed into the second semester. That’s an update yeah, but I also want to write about all the impacts and effects university has had on me, in all this time. Better leave that reflection for another day. For now, it is to reinforce the fact that yesss university DOES RENDER ONE UNABLE TO BLOG REGULARLY OR EVEN ONCE IN SIX MONTHS, IT IS EXHAUSTING! However, now that i have gotten a hold  of the whole thing and somewhat adapted to its rigorous system, I think I am slowly coming back on track.

This time around, I come with a small new package. I have started a “short poetry” page on Instagram *insert drum-rolls*. The page is entirely dedicated to short poems of all types  (written by me of course) and no matter how cliched instagram poets may have become, it is still a lovely place to showcase one’s tiny wisps of uniqueness that may make their poems different from those of others. At the end of the day, we all write things similar in essence but different in appearance. You guys can find me on insta by the name of innosinned. All set for follow backs 😉

With that I am going to end this post. I planned on keeping it particularly terse, thanks to uni for finally teaching me the art of laconism (I have three assignments and two quizzes due). I would be catching up with the blogging fam, missed you guys a lot. Anyways, I am back for the while with no intentions of going back into a slumber.

HAPPY BLOGGING!

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Not Worth Reading

There are people who claim to love me. I dont mean always in a romantic way. But it’s okay. You love me? Cool. I love myself too. Then comes the getting to know you part. ‘Hey I wish I could get to know you better/ you are such a mysterious soul, God I need to find out more about you/ Why dont you tell me about yourself much/ Hey share your life with me!’ and similar crap. No like okay this could be a borderline rant but I dont mean to get rude. I just mean to be honest. And people literally do that. So manny of them.

So most of you know about my blog right? Of course you do otherwise how could you be reading this? Now if you have ever bothered to check the ‘about me’ page, I clearly mention there that my blog has everything about me, my experiences, inspirations, reflections. Makes sense? I think I have also mentioned numerous times that I suck at revealing too much. But at the same time I am good at expressing myself in words.

How much more simple do I make it for you?

See, I respect the love and care which you show towards me even if it is fake. I really do. That is one reason why I haven’t already blocked/sidelined/ignored/rebuked you. That is one reason why you still talk to me and never guess out the anger bubbling on the verge. I never show it. I am sweet. But I am putting it here. For all those who know about it and still wish to know about me.

Like if you really do care to know me, please make an effort. Show that you care to know. Otherwise I have some pretty awesome answers prepared for you people the next time you say ‘Is there any way to know what lies beyond those deep eyes?’ There definitely is one and you will not probably like to stare into them again once you find out.

Peace.

P.S:  You see why I titled this ‘Not worth reading’  because I am sure they would be most interested in reading this. Human psychology. XD

Got Carried Away

This is not going to start with apologies of how I was away for so long and completely abandoned this place which I once called my safe haven. Basically because it’s not my fault if life throws a shit load of lemons,wait no, basically dumps shit load of lemons on my head. However at the same time this is not going to be a monologue of all the miseries and sufferings that nestled into my heart and home for the past few months.

What we can safely conclude though is that I was pretty occupied the last few months. Still am. It has been a roller coaster ride so far and I want, whoever is reading this, to pray for my health. Thats one huge concern these days. Apart from that, yeah my gap year is finally coming to an end. Wish me luck. I wanted it to end in a better way really but no ungrateful rants. Needless to say I missed my blog but couldn’t have afford to write a new post. Zero mental strength.

I am still a bit exhausted in all honesty so I would be using this post more as an outlet to sort my mind out a bit. Those not interested can quit from here. I have not been able to respond to comments of all my lovely followers and readers, let alone read new posts from them. I understand that writing my mind out could maybe make me feel better but I am bad at revealing too much.

The blogging fam has been awesome and of course I owe a thank you. I started with zero followers and reaching a 100 was a milestone. Thank you. Thanks to Allah for bringing me this far, if all goes well and I dont happen to be as inconsistent with this blog as I have been recently-Insha’Allah I aim to get a 100 more. Couldn’t have been possible without your support guys. Also Farees I love you.

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Funnily, this is not to announce that I am back. I am not sure if I am. I am just a bit lost and trying to find my ground. Maybe this wasn’t the right mental state to write a blog post in after all but this time, for the first time, I really want to use this as my safe haven. Somewhere I can write whatever I want to, whenever I want to. Even if it doesn’t make sense and even if it is pointless. It is my blog. And I love it.

Chirya.

One-liner # 11 She reblogged in hope of producing something similar some day.

Blasphemously Yours,

Ten sad one-liners.

  1. He stinks of old memories…or is that alcohol?
  2. He leaves first thing at dawn after he’s answered the call to Lust.
  3. She laughs at the mirror, in horror.
  4. Her eyes are as blue as the bruises around them.
  5. The maid looks at the acid with pity; she knows what it’s like to burn so much.
  6. Mother used to sing him to sleep, now the monster under his bed has devoured her.
  7. The glass shards of empty beer bottles break like his bones under strain.
  8. They are called many names; family is the worst one.
  9. Some people buy freedom from cages at the price of chains.
  10. His hand trembles when he holds the cane. 80 year old but childhood memories stay the same.

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Death will always hurt the same

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I do not know how to quiet my mind

I do not know how to hush my soul

They are speaking yet words are hard to find

Nothing can ever stitch it back to whole.

I will never know perhaps. The answer will always be too blur and my irrational thoughts will always be too vivid. Perhaps my irrational thoughts will always appear too rational to me. This is perhaps the third post I am making about death. First it was Amjad Sabri whom I was connected to through just some qawwalis he recited. Then it was Junaid Jamshed whom I was so much more connected to, because of his inspirational speeches, transformation and naats. Then it was my maternal grandmother’s (nani’s) turn (whom I did not post about). The first two were not related by blood. The third one was surviving through those extremely feeble days of age when one has accomplished most of the goals if not all. It was still bearable. I had no memories with the first two people I mention in the post except that they were public figures. With my nani, I had enough memories, more than I will probably ever recall in life.

But this death….it just hurts so much. Or perhaps it always hurts the same.

First it is the drowning. You get the news and seconds later it is all going down. Not like someone pushed you into the ocean but more like you dived in and are making no efforts to move your hands or legs. Calmly, yet unwillingly you are going down down down into the the depth and darkness. Few minutes later, you are okay; you are not crying…obviously because it hasn’t really sunken down. Too hard to believe. Too unusual to believe? Then the realization strikes that it has happened. You will never ever ever see that person again. They are gone. Forever. Your mind produces continuous images of them lying dead, sleeping peacefully, eyes closed..coffin? This is when a deep and strong heavy wind of grief encircles you and just stays there. You sit with it, stand with it, move with it. And along with the exasperation of this heavy air the feeling of helpessness starts to cave in on you. You cannot do anything. It is as it is. Everyone has to die. All are equal in the eyes of death. You have no excuse to complain. Complain to whom anyway? It is no one’s fault. But I feel so hurt. Perhaps it is the only hurt in the world which you cannot blame over anyone neither yourself. It is just a hurt one has to bear.

In my personal opinion, there are two types of deaths or let me say deaths of two categories of people which hurt the most. People we are dependent on: emotionally, financially, in every way. We are so extremely dependent that it almost feels like one or more tendons of the heart are invisibly attached to theirs. Honestly could be anyone, usually your parents, siblings but could be an internet friend, best friend, husband, wife, teacher. Anyone. Just someone very very close to one’s heart. And then the second category is those of children and adolescents. No matter who the child or teen is, his/her death claws on the heart in an eccentric way. Simply because they have been just too young too die? Specially the ones who have been so enthusiastic about their lives. Have had so many amazing goals and dreams in their eyes and on their minds. They have yet to experience the viles and ecstacies of this world: heartbreak, graduation, betrayals, marriage, job…life. they have yet to experience life but it ends.

I try my best to not get too over taken by this phenomenon of death. Perhaps I am more disentangled when it comes to death. I realize it has to happen, I try to swallow the bitter tablet, perhaps with a little more ease. I am aware of the fact that, I could just die the next moment or tomorrow and I believe in the uncertainity of life. Of course it brings shivers down my spine to envisage someone else, someone very close to me..walking down that lonely aisle. But it is there and I try to accept it.

My cousin, 15 years old, student of 10th grade aspiring to become a doctor, one of the sweetest and competitive, patient girl I have known, Areesha, passed away. Medical problems? Sure she had them, ever since she was born. Those are the best excuse anyway. But she had improved, she was leading a healthy perfect life just like anyone of us, going to school and studying hard. She had to sit for her board exams this year and I am sure she would have aced it. But life..sorry, death happened. Six months ago, her health starts to go down, a kidney has failed and transplant is not possible. She’s bravely averaging three dialysis per week, nothing but astonished at the sudden course her life has taken just before the final exams. She insists to give her papers even though everyone knows her education cannot really continue anymore, at least not the normal way. But she was ambitious, she wanted to live, she wanted to live like everyone else, like she had been living for the past 14 years. Determined as she is, she buys four dresses for Eid. I am still moved by the level of conviction she had about living up until it came. She gives her Physics practical, upon returning home she calls her mother to bring along a gift from work because it is her friend’s birthday the other day. And she dies that evening on her way to hospital, the gift still sits on her side table.

Medically, she was having great difficulty breathing, they had the oxygen cylinder at home and she was still breathing from that cylinder in the car as her parents rushed to the hospital when she breathed her last. Actually, this was all the time she had to live in this world.

I do not have the emotional strength to talk about the beautiful memories I have with her.  How she always looked up to me as her elder sister. I cannot imagine to explain how she told me elaborate details of what subjects she wanted to choose in college or how she always appreciated me taking Psychology in A levels. All I can probably manage to type is that she had once said, ‘I want to be like you. You are my role model.’

Obviously enough the reason to write this is not exactly share the grief. How can it be shared after all? It is not to gain sympathies either of course, because hey she is gone. And although the real real most painful grief is what her parents are going through right now (her younger brother is too young to even understand I suppose) but it’s just awful. It hurts me. I need to write it out. I need to blatantly announce that once again I am left utterly hopelessly sad. Sad for her, sad for her parents-and grief stricken for her younger brother who was so close to her. I am wondering how would he sleep alone in the room now. And it is just more horrible becuase she was young. She was ambitious about living. She had dreams. Such deaths may not be a rarity in this world but it sure was the first such case in my family.

Can I say I feel so dreadful, with the thought of it could be anyone next. Anyone very close to me? That it could be me too? It doesn’t make me anxious or upset..but it just makes me so so rueful about the fakeness of this world and life.

May she rest in peace. May Allah grant her jannah. Ameen.

On Your Birthday: Farees

Somewhere in the cold lands
Of Toronto
Canada
3rd April 2017

My bed
In sweltering heat of Karachi
(When it’s still officially Spring)
Pakistan

Dear Farees,

Sending you an e-mail was a retarded idea but even if you keep my preferences aside, I would still need your e-mail address which I seem to have lost in the junk of inbox mails. That would have required time and motivation, both of which I did not have. Former unavailable since I sat down to type this just a little time ago (with April 3rd approaching fast). And latter not present because the idea simply appeared retarded.

So even though, I have tried to keep this letter as conventional-looking as possible, it looks like I have already written past the introductory para without the least sign of Hi’s and How are you’s which we were taught to fit in at school in ‘informal letter writing’. But I believe that is okay because by experience I have learnt that ‘How are you’ is the most uninteresting question which you always find pretty boring to answer on chat but still do so with ‘yeah fine’ because of the fear of breaking my heart. (No you have no right to burst my bubble of fantasy even if that’s not the case).

Right, so where was I? Sending this letter, yes. I understand that I am not really sending this to you but I have no other, preferable option and if you think openheartedly, blogging it is just as good because this is one of the very few things (perhaps the only other than texting) which keeps us connected. There are a few things which I would like to clear to you before I move on to… I don’t know what because I am clueless where would this go. Anyways, so why of all things am I sending you this? Now instead of answering this with my long list of emotional reasons, I’d rather do it the way you prefer things:

1. I couldn’t have sent you a present. It wasn’t just possible-financially, physically, mentally.

2. I had to send you something! E-card, e-mail, virtual cakes were just too lame for my taste (though this might be too lame for yours xD)

3. I WANTED TO DO THIS!!

So the question ‘how are you’ although very boring and clichéd (since we talk everyday) holds great importance to me, not because how are you but because how you are. And sadly perhaps, with all your notions of narcissism, you often seem to forget or otherwise doubt upon this greatly.

You forget that you are velvet brown chocolate, melting to touch, sweet with a tinge of bitterness in the after taste. What you only seem to remember is the ‘bitterness’. Please believe that you are the entire bar of chocolate, not just a fraction of its taste. You doubt that you write better than great poets or writers or even as good as them. But your words are ablaze with the fire which erupts from the center of your pupils (if someone dares to stare close and long enough) when you are defending an opinion. I hope you believe in that fire of your words some day. Since they burn a hole through sheets of darkness in one’s mind, seething, burning their way through to the very bottom. That’s the beauty of your words. They sink in (though in a fiery way). And trust me, that makes them better than those of any great writers because no matter what masterpieces they create, they are useless to someone who cannot understand them.

But sadly what you only seem to find on your blog and at the back of your chemistry journal, are angry rants and dashes of epiphanies sent to a chaotic mind. It’s okay if you like to describe your work in such humble undertones. But please believe that you write masterpieces, better than many great writers….and although this is not a sensible thing to say…they are worth the emotional trauma (anger) you have been through to write them. Of course I am not asking you to be proud of your pain; it’s almost blasphemous for me to say that but I am only asking you to see that glint of light in all that darkness. No, I am not asking you to appreciate your pain and anger after what it produces on blank papers but remember how Virginia was scared of shunning her demons away for the fear of losing her writing streak..Please do remember to shun away your demons but also believe in that glint of light.

Am I preaching? No. Let us leave that to the prestigious preachers and believe that there was no hint of irreverence there. You are perfectly clean, white like a starched cotton shirt. But that doesn’t mean you are not that blotch of murky brown aromatic tea which you are addicted to with less milk and more tea powder. It doesn’t mean that you are not that shimmering silver and royal emerald green of the Slytherin. And it doesn’t mean that while being all of those, you are not the fiery scarlet and bright orange and even icy blue of the fire. However just like naturally being all of those diverse entities together, you can probably also be an engineer, writer and poet at the same time. Only that it may require a little more acceptance.

Acceptance, however, reminds me that you are more of a rebel. Which is great. Greater. Greatest perhpas. I am aware of your preference towards superlatives which probably brings me back to where I started from. Your first encounter with love when you looked into the mirror. Your narcissism. And believe me when I say that I love you for the love you have for yourself. I almost try to imitate, though I fail. But please, try to practice some of that love when it needs you the most or shall I rather say, when you need it the most? When pain seems to come endlessly from all sides. When it seems like a never ending fall. When it starts to feel shaky in front of people you always avoid talking about in your blog posts. When all of it seems useless. Probably that is where a little bit of that love is needed.

And I’d rather end this on what you love to do the most. Since it is your day? So I would leave this on how you love to disagree. Which you may be doing right now, shaking your head to whatever I wrote up there. I do so in hope that this may leave space for a letter in response where you have skillfully confronted with all that I have said up there. But then, (and this makes me smile as I write it), I shall never forget to mention another thing which you always do besides disagreeing. And that is to understand where I am coming from! And perhaps this is what has kept us hooked together for many are just great at doing the former. So I am still hopeful that you are able to understand when it comes to this letter.

Though you should also know that this is the first time I am doing something like this and coming from a Scorpio, it sure as hell means that you are special (to me). I really just had to add that in the brackets cause then again, who knows, haughty narcissistic Aries. XD

Always loving thy loving self

Tehreem.

P.S: I went up to our very first chat to see how it all started and frickin got this far and it appeared that our very first chat was about zodiacs and you had been disagreeing about their validity (which you still do to date) and I was trying to tell you how they always turn true for me (which I still do to date) and we were disagreeing yet sending each other zodiac posts and laughing on them (which we still do to date) and I do not know if this does not expresses some of my bullshit mystic love towards you then what ever will!

For those who would like to see and and know Farees better, this is her blog address: https://fareesism.wordpress.com