Exposed

As I sit here on this weirdly comfortable desk-chair, staring at my laptop.. I cant help but realize the fakeness of what we have in our surroundings.. 02:17am. There’s this feeling of an unnatural isolation that lurks in the cool of the room. Even the room temperature is under my control.. the so-called “comforts” disgust me. Would that man was able to simply break away and experience what is natural. Would that the society would allow him to do so. Would that our societies were to acquire that natural element once more. Listening to ‘Downer’ by Shajie, I am reminded of my adventures with the very few I choose to call my friends.

What is one person to another but an instrument to be used at the time of need? Don’t we all live  by our own script? Do we not absorb and protect ourselves over others? What difference would one man make amongst such despicable beasts?

At Ease?

He stands still. A man in is mid twenties, thinking bout the years he has lived. The wind, calm. He brings his hands to his face and stares at them through his big brown eyes. “What would you say against me that Day?” he whispers to his hands. He takes a step forward to the edge. The cool wind whizzing past his large ears. Staring down to the ground he realizes the pointlessness of almost everything that he had done in his past. “Is this a wake-up call? Or am I submitting to the pressures around?”

Persuasive Feminism

As I read through “The Young Wife” by Zaib-un-Nissa Hamidullah published in She: June 2011,  I was much moved by the highly picturesque wordings of the article. True, we all are well aware of the much violated women’s rights here in Pakistan and while we choose to ignore them completely (some might even argue that no such violation exists), the situation only deteriorates thus giving way to acts of desperation.


After completing the two page article I was impressed by how moved I was regarding the story narrated therein. However, I noticed how the authoress had used powerful words throughout the article, only differing in terms of positive and negative. Negative words were of course used in connection to the male presence in the article to sympathize with the female characters. This technique of persuading a reader to take sides through words is generally termed as brainwashing. And that, no matter if used for good or evil, is considered wrong if viewed from the common eye. It would surely be affective in producing positive results however, such a method is sure to backfire at some point.

Ive been browsing through blogs here. 10 out of 10 that came up had scary babies staring out of the screen. What is wrong with the world?

Forced to Misread

On August the 11th – 2011, I published an article “What Does Allah Say about Christians?” and to much astonishment the amateur piece of writing attracted a great deal of traffic. 
 
However, what troubled me was the feedback I received which revolved much around abusive terms directed not even towards me, the author, but to the very words of Quran. I decided to simply ignore the remarks and just kept on deleting them. But man of course, is a fool. And women too pretty much.


So I decided to respond directly to these remarks in a polite manner which totally did not work and resulted in much more abuse than was previously done. 
 
Yet the conversations were not completely useless. I deduced that much of the references given were either copied from websites or were – to my surprise – MOVIES! Is this what constitutes criticism these days? Movies?
 
Well the article was finally classified as “Condescending to Christians” and I was asked to rewrite the whole piece.. which I did.

An Episode of Randomness

Troubled again 
 
It's okay
 
Is it? 
 
Yes
 
You don’t sound so convincing
 
I am
 
You're scared aren’t you? Be at peace
 
How?
 
Don't you know?
 
Yes I do 
 
Then do what you have to
 
I am chained
 
To what? 
 
This fUcking life
 
How?
 
Freedom of will, Independence
 
You have that. Don't lie. 
 
I'm NOT LYINGGGG!!!
 
Calm down
 
No. I want what I want.
 
What exactly do you want?
 
I don’t know   
 
Money?
 
No
 
What is your problem then?
 
You
 
Me? 
 
You just won't shut up
 
I'm here to help you
 
I don’t give a fuck, I don’t need help
 
Yes you do and you know it
 
Are you going to talk? Or just sit there and stare out the window? 
 
Fuck off
 
I'll see you tomorrow then? Will you not wish me goodbye? You'll have to talk someday you know.  
LISTEN TO ME! SAY SOMETHING!
 
Waits for him to respond, glaring with those hazel eyes… She walks out the room… slamming the door shut behind her, hammering her high heels against the floor. He catches a glimpse of her fiery curls as the door bangs shut. Puts his chin to his chest, closes his eyes. 
 
There's a knock on the door followed by the creaking of wood against nails layered with rust, as the door opens.
  
If you go on like this she'll stop coming!
 
I know
 
Listen, we all are trying to help you here, okay son? 
 
Leave me alone
 
Simon walks across the room to his chair and sits by his feet on the floor. What are you looking at?
 
A storm's coming
 
Is it getting dark out there? 
 
Simon sits up on his knees and stretches his neck to look outside… his grey hair; pale in the dimly lit room. He sits back and stares at him. I see nothing out there. 
There's nothing out there. Oh so you're a prophet now? 
 
Simon smirks at him eager to ease the tension. His pale-yellow teeth darkened by the dimly-lit room, highlighted by the blackened lips from excessive smoking. 
 
No
 
Then how?
 
There always is
 
You think you're so smart? You think you have it all figured out? 
 
Cross and impatient he stands up and walks to the window. The limp in his left leg, making a loud thump on the wooden floor. 
 
You outta go out for a while. Try to have some fun, boy. 
 
How can i
 
You could try?
 
Don’t want to
 
Don’t be stubborn now
 
I want you to leave
 
Would you at least walk on to the porch with me?
 
Leave Simon
 
Okay, okay sire. No need to be snappy now.
 
The door closes behind him softly. A smooth and silent draft of fresh air streams through his untidy, shoulder-length hair. The very air weighs down on him. He closes his eyes again. "I must not falter, I must not fail", he thinks to himself.

Echoes From The Past

After the much frustrated abandonment of my previous blog: "Insomniaaaacal Thoughts Goin Through My Mind" - or something weird like that, I decided to return in a somewhat "Standard" manner.