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Something else

No its not writer's block Its something else Just wondering why am I not writing much these days!

Sunday, March 30, 2014

Fragility

There isn't much today on my mind as I wake up
Besides the long list of what to do and what not to do,
There is this emptiness prevailing
And this emptiness scares me,
I can pose to be so strong , yet my fragility is known only to a few.

Wednesday, March 26, 2014

Company

To be with someone .... matters.

 Matters when they bring out the best in You. When you don't have to pose , where you are ,who you are in reality, just like that. Where there are no fears, no hindrance, no feigning, no reservations. There is a  natural flow that leads its own way. That's because you are in the purest and most natural of your forms, it gives you a feeling of lightening, a sense of soothing, a natural contentment, which is other wise impossible in this world of hypocrisy.

I don't know if I am making any sense here. But the point is, being with someone matters. 

shadow

You may run away from your own reflection
But its your shadow that won't let you go


Monday, March 24, 2014

Echo

A moment out of a very busy schedule

a glimpse of once so familiar face

an echo of the most acquainted words

a sigh of relief




Friday, March 21, 2014

On her birth. 19.03.2014.

And when a new soul is being sent to this earth, it brings hope of light.

You are one such hope for me, my little angel.

Tuesday, March 18, 2014

Eyes

His eyes are so intense I want to look away . . . or never look away, I can’t decide.” 

― Kasie WestThe Distance Between Us

Thursday, March 13, 2014

Copy Rights

At times you meet up someone
get to know them more than you should know
only to find out later
they are copy rights protected!

Wapas ker do (An attempt at translation)

This song got on my nerves for some days. This is an attempt to translate the feelings in a different language.


Return back
................
You ask me 
to return back
your letters

lovely evenings
fragrance, memories
you ask me
to return back

Some dry petals
in my books
and a lovely face
in my dreams
a few gifts
and a few pictures
Thats all I have as
the companions of
my lonely moments
all these memories
you ask me
to return back

happy and sad times
All promises, all seasons
tears that we shed together 
glitters of the times
spent together
That is all I have as
the companion of 
my lonely moments
all these memories
you ask me
to return back.

.............
return back.

The song and its expressions are matchless.


https://soundcloud.com/misha-w-khan/junaid-jamshed-tum-kehti-ho




Wednesday, March 12, 2014

Being

One can stop speaking,  writing, expressing, telling, drawing, seeing, wishing or dreaming.

But how can one stop 'Feeling'
How can one stop 'Being'?

Tuesday, March 11, 2014

Tu de que vas ..... Just one dance.

Sitting at the bar counter he was listening to the fast changing tracks of dance music in the club. It was weekend in Madrid and Madrilenians were busy dancing and drinking.

"Hey You are still sitting here. No plans for dancing?" , He turned around on the revolving chair and saw her. She was half drunk. He refused her offer for the third time and gently removed her hand resting on his shoulder. He could see the disappointment in her eyes but he could not help it. He was not interested.


Sally was not Spanish. She was an Englishwoman. He met her once or twice before and tonight she was here with him at this club. He could not figure out why. Suddenly he did not want any company anymore. and surely not a woman's company.


He rotated the glass of red wine then. This glass reminded him of someone, someone he used to relate with wine and intoxication. He thought he needed alcohol to calm his nerves, but the glass in his hands was still full. Even alcohol was not the solution tonight. The solution was across thousands of miles. unreachable.


Not far from him was the dance floor where people were dancing madly. Sally was one of them too. He wondered why ever he brought her with him. Women were some crazy creatures and he didn't want them anymore.


Slowly he moved towards the full length glass window, now drenched with raindrops. October in Madrid always brought rain. This club was built on a hill in the suburbs of Madrid city, the view from the window was wet and steamy. Just like every other view. 


As the night was getting deeper the music scene was changing too. Now the DJ had tuned one of the mellow tracts. The hip hop dancing took a twist and moved into the waltz zone. He stood still for a while , it was one of his favorite songs and down the memory lane , he recalled he played this song for her too.



Tu de que vas (Do you even need to ask) 
If I had to make the choice again
I’d choose you without a doubt
cause there are no doubts to have


Franco De Vita was singing and materializing some special moments for him.

"I haven't danced with anyone in my life but if I ever wish to do waltz , will you be my partner Daniel?". He could still hear her crystal clear voice. They were on the deck of the boat on their return from Ibiza island where there was a lovely wind and some lovely music in the backdrop, when she asked him. The desire in her eyes was more than he could bear at that time. And now remembering that particular moment, he realized it was this desire in her eyes that he was missing the most.


Running a hand in his hair , he reached for his cell phone and checked every possible place she could have left a message for him. There was none. She was gone. There was no returning back.

The song continued to play, relieving and at the same time tormenting his nerves.

do you even need to ask?
if there's not even one minute of my time
in which you do not cross my mind
and still you question if I love you





Monday, March 10, 2014

Lady to be ..... Just one dance.

It wasn't easy for her to bear this, she knew it already. Seeing him with the woman he loved was supposed to be an emotional jolt for her. One of the moments when she felt like running away from Spain.

Just Thursday night when they all were having dinner together he announced that he wanted everyone and specially Bibi jaan to have a meeting with the woman he was looking forward to get married.

"Helen Martinez" , the only name that clicked her mind.

Why didn't it ever occur to Mawra suhail that during her stay in Madrid she may have to see the lady of honor too? The fork she was using to lift the bite of chicken steak could not reach her mouth. Suddenly she lost her appetite.

And then a midst the frenzied gossiping about the lady to be, everybody got so involved that nobody appeared to have feel the absent mindedness and quietness of Mawra. For her though, it was a blessing.

The restlessness prevailing. She along with Mariah planned the menu for the evening and remained hidden behind the cooking schedule. Daniel was out since long and it was about time they were to come home. Her heart skipped a beat when she heard the car brakes in the porch. She closed her eyes and wished that moment never came. She wasn't yet ready to face her.

The kitchen corner where she was apparently working was invisible from the living room. She could hear the voices very clearly though. Bibi jaan sounded super excited. It was the first time she was about to meet a gori-bahu.

Closing her eyes to regain her composure , she wished no one even remembers she was home too.

Mariah was surprisingly looking uninterested in joining the gathering. So was she.

But there wasn't much escape. Daniel was already in the kitchen and asking them both out to join everyone in the living room. He didn't even approve of Mawra's very casual dressing.

"You can go upstairs and change if you like amiga."

She denied politely. Seeing her reluctance he held her left wrist and brought her in the living room and introduced her to Helen Martinez as his best buddy.

For a moment Mawra could not say anything. She wasn't shy, never have been. but her feelings for Daniel had made this confrontation difficult. She moved forward and shook hands with Helen. And yes she had to admit, the lady was strikingly elegant.

Dressed in a red floral skirt and silk cream shirt, with her hair tied in a chignon at the nape of the neck, her creamy skin reflected vibrancy. But there was no warmth in her eyes for Mawra. She felt terrible about her own feelings for the man , she was not even related to. Guilty pangs jolted her. It wasn't  easy hiding her feelings appearing on surface, yet she had to fight.

Feelings could make such huge difference, she never knew. But she was learning gradually. Life and its lessons weren't easy to learn.

Daniel was looking genuinely happy. It was so obvious from his eyes how much he loved the woman. His smiles, gestures, moves and laughter, everything was apparent. There was no denying the fact that Helen Martinez was the love of his life.

For the first time in life, Mawra realized, people and feelings were different from attractions in the display shops. They were not for sale. They could nor be bought neither could be developed. They were either meant to be or not to be.

For her it was a lost battle, before even being fought.






Sunday, March 9, 2014

Marathon

On the marathon tract of life there comes a line where forgetfulness meets up remembrance.

Where one comes to a halt the other continues with the journey.

Saturday, March 8, 2014

Thursday, March 6, 2014

Unmatched ecstasy


The first glimpse, even for a fraction of a second.
The first few minutes of hearing the voice being passionately anticipated for.
The first exchange of unexpressed feelings.

Like the first drop of a rainfall,
the ecstasy of the first encounter
is matchless.


Wednesday, March 5, 2014

Mustansar Hussain Tarar . (A gesture of gratitude on 75th birthday)

I had to rush. Time was rushing too. It was a lovely February morning in Karachi, Pakistan. The smooth chilled breeze at the sea shore was refreshing to the core. The lush green lawn of this elegant hotel located by the sea was filled with people of diversification. I reached at the edge of the small flight of stairs that was leading to the vast expense of lawn. Sheema kirmani was performing on the stage and the echoes of the shadow were visible on the larger than life screen. I looked for him. But that was absurd. It was impossible to find anyone in this crowd. So I decided the next best thing. I moved towards the hall specified for his session. Room 007. There wasn't anyone there yet except for a cute couple (later found out to be his dedicated fans and my newly acquired friends). I selected the best seat with the best view of the stage. And silently, began waiting.

Slowly the crowd moved in and the hall was full in no time. My pulse ran higher and I began to have palpitations. I waited for this moment for almost an year. And there he was gracefully entering the hall moving towards the stage. The session began and so did the rain reflecting through the large glass windows. The one hour session ended in no time and suddenly people gathered around him and he was being led outside. The rain was falling heavily now and in my efforts to reach him, there were many hindrances, the rain, the crowd, the media people and many cameras. I still remember how assertively I asked him that I needed his time. One year of anticipation and waiting had brought me standing in front of him. I could not have missed this chance then.

This was my first meeting with Mustansar Hussain Tarar in 2013. The rest is a long story. March 2014 marked his 75th birthday. Fortunate are we as a nation to have him around. Someone who has truly made this country proud by representing its very positive aspects. A humble, gentle and very kind person. He denies gracefully that the love showers by his fans are more than he deserves. Just to let him know, he deserves much more. The bond that a reader binds with the writer of his favorite book is immense and indiscernible. Yet he is the author of countless such books. Here the bond itself is indiscernible in my opinion.

My prayers for him to remain around us for the years to come. May our children grow up reading his books, seeing him around and may he always be blessed with perfect health , happiness and love. Aameen.



Tuesday, March 4, 2014

Empty words

At time we say words and move on. But the resonance of emptiness inside those words tease for long, sometimes indefinitely.

They keep coming back somehow. harmless and worthless words like .... Goodbyes.

A Good-bye.

You say and you move on. Just like that. it doesn't take much. Yet a harmless and worthless word like a simple goodbye can extract all of the energy from you. It can make your limbs go lifeless and leaves your body into endless shivering. it can drench you in sweats and make you feverish. Words could be empty and yet could have heavy burden.

So you move on, thinking its all over. gone, done with. chapter closed , book thrown back into the shelf.

Ironically the pages and leaflets from the book through some tiny holes into your skin, crawling like baby snakes, bite you endlessly. When you try hard to realize yourself, you win, you actually lose. You fail to say goodbye to the bitter-sweet memories.

And then the next morning you wake up and promise again, to move on. Yes you do move on surely, but a part of you remains hanging somewhere in the lost track.

For complete resuming you have to wait. for how long, who knows?

one more day or one lifetime?

Do not wonder. Just move on!



Saturday, March 1, 2014

Toss and turn

Toss and turn
burn or yearn?

Sleepless-ness 
nothingness?

bitter-sweet
memories?

endless nights
insomniac?