We Are A Crowd.

A child dies every minute, we remain silent, we stare on. A democratic system comes to power, it is corrupt and fraudulent, and we remain silent and stare on. A women is beaten and burnt, a crime is committed around us every other second, we remain voiceless and look on.

With each step towards advancement, conflict and violence is growing, but we go about the daily business of our lives without caring, not wanting to know until trouble knocks on our own doors. Even then, words of protests are mumbled, not shouted; sounds of anger are muffled, not loud; voices are hushed, not raised. We watch, wait and we look on. We are not a mob, not a demonstration, not a march, just a crowd. Silent… staring!

The blood path in Palestine continues, we issue statements of regret and condemnation and yet we continue to pay to the enterprises of Jews. Foreign trademarks are so cool! Aren’t they, eh? We are a crowd – silent, heartless and staring.

The massacre in Kashmir continues, we show films and documentaries on TV, take out a procession or two after Friday prayers and then sit down comfortably at night to watch Indian movies and shows. Real heroes, away from families and friends, in freezing weather are ready to sacrifice their lives for their country and its people, while we get high on New Years Eve and complain about the traffic jams caused by military movements. We are a crowd, silent, uncompassionate and staring.

War in Iraq and Afghanistan. Bloodshed, innocent kids running for their lives.. fires, screams! There are blasts that cause a fire so intense that it leaves the outline of the victim on the ground as souvenirs for the powerful victor. The whole family sleeps in the same room so that they survive together or die together. They are our Muslim brothers but we are unmoved. We stare on silently as a crowd.

The Shia Genocide and the sectarian violence in Karachi. The genocide and complete abolition of Balochis and their brutal murders and disappearance. The plight of minorities in radical Punjab and the sufferings of people in KPK who went through the traumatic destruction of breath taking northern areas along with rivers of blood. Yes, we all have felt every inch of their agony. Yet we’re all unable to reach out for maximum audience and our social stigmas and responsibilities don’t allow us to contribute practically. We are a crowd who just stares on silently. There was Qarbala where Hassan (R) and Hussain (R) were killed. Today there's Pakistan, Gaza and Afghanistan and yet we aren't united to fight the aggressors, only divided along communal lines. I mourn the death of our Prophet's (S) beloved grandsons and you don't have to be from a particular sect of Islam, or be a Muslim at all really. Just like I don't have to be a Palestinian to be rattled by their loss. What made us so inhumane, so oblivious to the pain all around us? How long are we going to ignore the carnage just because we’re not members of the targeted communities?

Judges suspended, independence of judiciary is at stake, no security of one’s life and rights, lawlessness… We disapprove of it but we still stare on speechlessly as a crowd. If there are protest rallies, we kick up a fuss at the roads being blocked and the ‘inconvenience’ caused.

No true leader rises amongst us, anyone who does, it’s not for the people but for his owl personal gains. If a man of integrity does come to lead, others pull him down and ensure his downfall. Nothing moves us, nothing makes us feel except for money; its charm, its magic. We try to get it by any means possible. We will work for it, steal, beg, lie, and sacrifice for it, for only that stirs our spirits. For everything else, we are silent and staring.

Bomb blasts in mosques, rallies, trains and markets… We stare on! Consequences of operations in Swat; a dozen people crammed together in a single tent for shelter, who have to sleep on the ground. While, we rest in our luxurious bedrooms with air conditioners switched on thinking about parties, food, outfits, fashion, latest DVD’s or the recent gizmo that we aren’t ‘blessed’ enough to have. There are kids who wait helplessly, knowing something bad will happen, they are confused because they don’t know what they did wrong. We remain a silent, indifferent crowd.

Imagine YOUR brother screaming from the agony for a severed limb but you can’t do anything to ease the pain. What if you were one of them; wandering in streets hungry and alone while people watch as a silent, staring crowd?

Muslims are being labeled as terrorists, Islam is being misinterpreted internationally The west is working for its own benefit and blaming us for everything. Western hold on the media is so strong that even protecting our rights is thought to be ‘terrorism’ now. If I stand before the court, demanding my rights while the legal system slowly churns out my privileges, you will all be there, silent and staring, always a crowd.

If I get hit by a car being driven by alcoholics and die, you will all be there. Silent and staring. A crowd! If I stand here, take out a gun, point it in your direction and pull the trigger. You will STILL be there, silent and staring. You’ll be a crowd, a dead crowd! And then on your funeral we’ll all be a crowd, silent and staring! Whichever angle, whichever thought, whichever view you are perceived from; you, me and we all are nothing else but a crowd.

The Lonely Soul.

There he was, leaning against a wall, his dark black shirt contrasted with the pale wall he had his back on.

It was raining outside, a heavy down-pour. Rain always made him sad. The sound of it echoed in the shadowy space where he was sitting, and it made him feel small and fragile, like a worthless loner left ignored on a moving day - mate-less and abandoned.

On a rainy gloomy day, when the sky was at its rainiest and gloomiest peak, the rain drops were less than those tears that were falling from his eyes. The sun was setting, a purple shade was surfacing in the sky, creating a shadow of the cigarette he had lit. The sky, an endless stretch of clouds, came across as intimidating to him. He kept looking at it but it seemed to keep moving farther and farther away. The birds were envied by him; their freedom to fly, their ability to move to places, it made him angry. Here he was - stuck, in misery and there they were, flying above him with no worries. He looked around him and saw a woman walking with her two children on both sides, holding her hands tightly and beaming - beaming because they had someone to hold onto, unlike him. He saw a girl with her lover, a friend laughing with her best-friend and a man with his son was closing his shop, looking forward to go to his home, to his family. When he saw these people, he realized that even though he liked being alone at this moment, he didn't fancy it. The sight of all these 'happy people' hit him in his heart like bullets. Those faces made him burn, how were they managing to live with such ease?

It was a sad world he was living in, smiling while others cry, living while others die.

His world had collapsed and yet nobody seemed to care about it. Here was he, with no place to go to, with nothing to look forward to. He covered his face with his hands as his tears streamed down. He shut his eyes, pretending that if he couldn't see the world, the world couldn't see him either. It seemed like everyone around him was doing okay, it was just him with whom life was playing these sick jokes. He was the only despondent person on the face of earth. He looked through his pockets and found his wallet, in it a picture of her, he took it out and stared at it for awhile. He was beginning to memorize her face, imprinting it in his memory forever.

He put it against his chest, wanting it be a part of him, wanting that face to be always in front of his eyes, wanting to get lost in those ebony black eyes, wanting to play with those golden long locks with his fingers, wanting to touch that beautiful face, to feel it.

After gazing at it for a long, long, while, he decided to leave it at the floor he had been sitting on and move away. Away from this reality he didn't want to embrace. Life had taken away that one person he had never imagined he'd have to live without.

The one person who completed his being, the one he had promised to spend the rest of his life with, the one who was his sole reason for breathing, the one who was able to get him through anything and everything in his life, someone who'd put a smile on his face on his worst day, the joy to his tears, his favorite work of art, the one who'd help him overcome his fears, his sunshine, the head to his shoulder, the love of his life, the one who meant the world to him, his companion, his everything.

Life couldn't get any crueler, could it?

It wasn't making any sense to him. It was not like her to leave the stage in the middle of the song. She was the last person he thought he'd lose. She had promised to stay by his side forever. He loved her to death, and she just died on him.

Had it not been for the promise he had made to her - to never lose hope, to keep going on with this life; to live and never give up, he would have left this world a second after she did. He would have died with her. She was gone forever and even the thought of it made him clench. It made him suffocate. He had lost the heart to live, was it possible to carry on with a hole now, once where his heart had been?

He was living, but the question is, what for?

Just live, dammit.

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"Take a step back.  Look at yourself. You are human. You are beautiful. You are so beautiful. And you can be anything. You can be everything. Do not hate everyone because someone broke your heart, or because your parents split up, or your best friend betrayed you, your father hit you, the kid down the street called you fat, ugly, stupid, worthless. Do not concern yourself with things you cannot control. Cry when you need to, then let go when it’s time. Don’t hang onto painful memories just because you’re afraid to forget. Let go of things that are in the past. Forget things that aren’t worth remembering. Stop taking things for granted. Live for something. Live for yourself. Fall in love. Fall out of love. Fall in love. Fall out of love. Do this over and over until you know what it really is to love someone. Question things. Tell people how you really feel. Sleep under the stars. Create. Imagine. Inspire. Share something wonderful. Meet new people. Make someone’s day. Follow your dreams. Live your life to it’s full potential. Just live, dammit. Let go of all of the horrible in your life and  live. And one day, when you’re old, look back with no regrets."

Just slow down a bit..

Let the pace life sets for you tick to its own stopwatch. In your frantic rush to get things done quickly, you’ll miss out on the smaller moments that often have the most profound impact. Take a minute or two to sit back and breathe. Let time stand still, don’t take the one second of free time in your day for granted.

Enjoy being alone, listening to the sounds of silence, feeling your heart beat steadily. You’ll never truly understand the positive calming effect that 5 minutes can have on the rest of your day until you allow yourself to soak it in. Later, when you’re racing the clock for a deadline at work or running errands in rush hour traffic, you’ll cherish that brief moment of serenity.

A relatively broad concept, living for the moment is what you make of it.  The principle here is that the events that compromise a lifetime are fleeing and we may miss out on some of the beautiful life’s offerings, should we choose to ignore them. There is so much life to live outside of the office or the home. Clichés exist because more often than not, they hold a significant degree of truth and logic.
Life is in fact short, so why rush it?

LOVE, WANTS AND NOODLES.

 

You know how I’ve lived through the past years or how I’ve answered to the feeling I had whenever there was something I badly wanted? If it’s meant to be it’ll happen. But for how long am I supposed to wait? How long do I have to see all these pictures, all these words? I don’t know if its love, but it’s something. It’s this hunger to want, this need to have something. It’s something you just cannot fight. And the moment it hits you-the fact that you can’t have it, it burns. But that’s life, isn’t it? That we get caught on fire and we burn and burn till there’s nothing left. Love is a silly idea, I haven’t really seen it. Sometimes I think I see it but I’m not sure. I think love isn’t about being ready to do anything for a person, giving up everything for a person. But it’s about being ready to live your entire life with someone, and looking forward to each day, each dinner, each trip to the grocery store for their favorite noodles. Thats what love is to me. And you know what? I’m ready. I’m ready to do all that for this person. To look forward to tomorrow, to cook for him to be able to do things for him that will make him happy. I don’t know what this is, it’s a feeling that won’t go away. I need this person, I want this person. Just to talk for now, but I don’t know. Is it possible to be in “love” with someone who doesn’t even know you that well?

car·pe di·em/ˌkärpā ˈdēˌem/ : Used to urge someone to make the most of the present time and give little thought to the future.

“These times are hard, but they will pass”

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One day, you and I’ll be happy.

It isn’t as hard being happy as you’re making it.

I mean, I think we like to complicate things when they’re really simple. Find what it is and who it is that makes you happy and you’re set. Promise.

Well, there are good days and then there are bad days. But mind you, the good days WILL be there. May even outnumber the bad ones, but there will be good days.

What’s the worst that you’ve been through?

Think about it.

You survived that, didn’t you?

You made it through, right?

You’re alive, aren’t you?

Think about that the next time you’re going through a really hard time. You’ll pull through. You’re strong. Shit happens, life doesn’t always go the way we want it to. But always remember this: “Tough times don’t last, but tough people do.”

Learn to appreciate each and every moment, each and every second you breathe and the people you love. Believe it or not, life is unpredictable. Be happy, it’s all that matters.

You can never really know who you are or who anyone else is,  just try being happy. Like almost all the time.

Trust random people, laugh like a crazy person, dance in public, embarrass yourself and just LIVE your life.

Don’t wait for anyone to come around and change it, you are who you’re and who you’ll grow up to become but while you’re at it, at least have some fun.

Just forget the world, forget all the worries you’ve ever had, forget everything and just be happy. Remember all the sadness and frustration and let. it. go.

Smile, even if it’s the hardest thing to do on the planet. Remember happiness is not a destination, it’s a mood and if you want, you can be in that mood all the time, and if you could just take a second to realize that – you’d be happy more often.

No matter what kind of a day you had, or what sort of a situation you’re in .. just stop for a second and smile.

Darling, you could be happy, too, you know.

Let yourself be happy because you never know how fleeting that feeling might be.

“Geo, hasso, gayo, muskurayo. Kya pata, kal ho na ho?”

Brightside.

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You run out of reasons, and words to believe in and you look at yourself in disbelief.

You no longer had patience to wait any longer, so you screamed.

Memories started fading, and it never went the way you wanted it to be, you were mad.

You always reach when you look at the sky and it always seems to go farther away, you told life to stop playing the sick jokes.

You locked yourself in your room and cried for hours, how could God be so cruel?

You started to dream about how things should've been, could've been,

You dream once, you dream twice, but how long can you dream till reality pinches you?

You look around for things still worth living for...

Could it be that spark of hope in your mother’s eyes?

Could it be the fake laughs your blood puts on for you?

Could it be that sun that rises every morning?

Could it be the things you still got to do before you’re long gone?

When your world falls apart, you sit there, with your hands tied. And weep about how things don't go the way you want them to.

We run out of words to carry on, but we always have an essay to write about how things go wrong.

We only see what we want to see, they say it's a glass half empty or half full, how come you always look at the half empty?

How come you always think about the bad times?

It's not only you, it's her, it's him, it's her.

And it's true when they say everybody hurts, everybody cries.

How could you know how happy feels like if you’ve never cried?

How would you know about hellos, if you've never said a goodbye?

Life.

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Do you really think life will listen to you when it has failed countless other times? Do you think you are that important to be given a hear?

Do you really believe that you can change the past.. relive history and sort out all that went wrong?

Do you think that you can start a new life just like that?

Are you a victim of the false assertion that life is easy come, easy go?

Are you living in your own isolated world of happiness and joy?

Have you felt sorrow.. felt pain.. felt hurt?

Have you ever felt how it feels to be empty inside?

Do you know how it feels to wake up every single day, knowing that it will be as bad as the last?

Have you been exposed to the light of darkness, the truth of fallacy?

Have you ever seen how your dreams and desires blow away like the ashes of your cigarette?

Do you know how it feels to have something so close, yet so far?

Have you ever run out of words, not being able to say what you wanted to?

Have you felt the suffocation of loneliness and the freedom of solitude at the same time?

Do you know how it feels to not be able to speak your own mind?

Have you felt the eyes of people bearing upon you, judging every move you make, everything you do?

Have you ever been labeled?

Have you ever been called crazy .. a freak?

Have you felt how it feels to be alone, without hope?

Have you ever wished for tomorrow not to come, for today to be the last day of your life?

Have you ever been so frustrated that you wanted to scream, to break the silence, to hear someone, something?

Have you ever felt that no one deserves your attention? And your attention deserves no one?

Will you ever forget the past?

Will you?

Do you … ever?

Are you there listening?

Where are you?

Hello?

YOU KNOW YOU ARE A PAKISTANI -

 When you call all of your friend’s parents “aunty” and “uncle.” “Mr.” and “Mrs.” are a definite no-no.

When a match against India > anything in this world.

When your homepage would always be full of Humsafar posts.

When you cover anything and everything that is new in your house with plastic covers – be it the remote control or the VCR or the new living room couch.

When the woman’s laugh in Hasb-e-Haal will always annoy you.

When mendhi dance class is some serious shit.

When you’re happy and you know it, you do the bhangra.

When you support any other team playing against India in a cricket match.

When you’ve had a bowl haircut (commonly referred to as pyaala cut) at one point in your life. 

When seiviyaan on Eid is a must.

When you hate on your president to kill time. 

When you claim that you love your “ammi keh haath ka khana” and you daily argue with her, “yeh kya pakaaya hai?”

When the only reason they can’t make space for you in the car is because they don’t want you in the car.

When Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan is your Elvis.

When the traffic police is there just to piss you off.

When you crave for biryani 24/7.   

When you plan everything according to the “light-jab-ayegi/jayegi-” wala time.

When the only reason you agree to go to parties/weddings is for the muft ka khana.

When you celebrate Pakistan’s victory or any other victory by firing.

When an India-Pakistan cricket match brings the entire country together.

When a day without load-shedding is the happiest day of your life.

When your family arrives at a party an hour late, only to realize you're the first ones there.

When at weddings, you are approached by fifty bajillion aunties, uncles, your dad's brother's wife's cousin and other miscellaneous relatives that come and squeeze your cheeks and kiss you and ask if you remember them.

When regardless if you're a male or a female, you know how to cook.

When you’re a pro at making chai.

When your parents you get angry if you get anything less than a 95 or A on your report card.

If you're caught talking to an individual of the opposite gender, every aunty will gossip about you and tell their children that you're a "bad influence."

If you're 15+, your mom has already started pointing out good-looking, and sometimes not-so-good-looking, Paki boys for your rishta.

When you can walk over to any Paki family in your neighborhood asking for sugar, eggs, or any other grocery need. In fact, they'd give you a few pounds of chicken, and maybe throw in a cake as well and without expecting anything back.

When you attend as many Paki dinners as possible, which is easy because they occur once or twice a week.

When you consider saying ‘no’ to an aunty when she asks you if want more food as a “yolo” moment.

When you have been mistaken for an Indian before.

When you talk to your Paki friends in Urdu/Pashto/Punjabi/etc. whenever you want to bug the heck out of your non-desi friends.

If you're male, you know how to play cricket.

When you know that if you don't find the love of your life, your parents will be more than willing to arrange a marriage for you.

When you get to skip up to two days of school because of Eid.

When you’re either asked to be a doctor or an engineer by your parents.

When you have the tendency to rhyme actual words with words that don’t even exist – coke shoke, khaana shaana, chaye waye.. and so on.

When you tell your mother you feel sick and she asks you to take 2 panadols and then says, “Bus Allah peh chor dou”.

When making a late entry is not a habit, it’s a lifestyle.

When your relatives alone can populate a whole town.

When you sleep to no electricity and wake up to no electricity.

When you can wear skinny jeans when it’s 45 degrees outside.

… And when you’re just plain awesome!

So does being Pakistani sound interesting to you?