The Divine Intervention

He opened his eyes to a new world. There was no need for an alarm. Warm sunshine and the cool morning breeze conspired with the curtains at his window to brush the trance of sleep off him. This was Utopia.

The world revolved around the sun so he could experience daylight and the dark; the beauty of light and serenity of the night. The world rotated on its axis to accommodate his yearning for the warmth of summer, the falling leaves of autumn , the chill of winter and the freshness of spring – he wanted to touch all the colours of life, and to feel alive. Everyday, as the sunshine woke him up, his royal breakfast awaited him as he took a long steaming shower. After feasting, he changed into his perfectly ironed, creaseless dressing gown, only to find a well-oiled vehicle ready to take him to places. Nobody dared stop him at the entrance of the gardens of knowledge, for he possessed the golden ticket. His trips to these gardens were all sponsored ‘til it was time to fruition and time to fare forth. As he stepped on to the big stage, ready to take on the world, it was easy to notice that he had an unfair advantage on the battlefield. Fate always seemed to favour him. The dice always rolled the odds in his favour. His cards were all aces. At every turn, there were just uneven, unfair advantages that propelled him to success. He was destined to succeed – he was the “Sun”. It wasn’t what he initially thought. “Son”. NOW he got it right.

His mother’s sweet voice echoed – “It is time to wake up, my world.” He didn’t want to wake up from this dream, failing to realize that reality was more beautiful.

This is just an attempt to pay tributes to the parents; our sunshine and our world, our golden tickets and trump cards, our north star and good fortunes. Heaven is real. It is your mother’s perfection, your father’s sacrifice; they move the world so that we can sleep at night, live by day. No words can do justice to these unsung superheroes in our lives. No action reciprocates their selflessness.

But we can try. We owe it to them and to ourselves.

Death to Love

He seemed distant. Cold. Unworldly. She looked at him for hours but never saw him blink for once. Nor did she, all that time. Something was off. He was different. How could the world not see him? Why was it so difficult for her to notice anything else when he was around? She had never felt this way before. Relentless in her pursuit of self-actualization, she had no time for anybody or anyone. Yet, on the most ordinary of days, she finds herself gazing upon this simple man who did not so much as have a wiff of an aura. He was like a shadow; no identity, no presence and certainly no substance. Despite all of this, she knew deep down that there was more to him that met the eye. Afterall, the shadow proves the sunshine. During all this episode, she concentrated every ounce of her attention on him, dedicated all her thoughts to him and wished for the Law of Reciprocity to come into play.

With all his power, he exercised restrained. What was wrong with him? Why did it feel so unnatural? He had done this since the beginning of time. It was his purpose. It gave him an identity, a meaning to his existence. This was just another name in the list, yet something was off. She was different. Why couldn’t he bring about himself to face her? Relentless in his pursuit of obligation, he had no time to study his subjects. Yet, on this day, he couldn’t fail but notice this light that demanded attention. For once, he felt life. What it was like for the living. He knew the world wouldn’t miss her if she were gone. She may end up being someone’s after-thought and fade away from the realms of time. Yet he was finding it hard to bring about himself to finish the job. But it was not his call. To question the plans of God. And hence, he, for the first time and the last, looked into her eyes and blinked.

That day, Love met Death.


Inspired by:

Blinding Light and Illuminating Darkness

Blink… Blink… Blink… No flashes. Nada interruption. Nothing registered. The sun could scorch her deep blue eyes for eternity, but she would be unfazed. She could glare back at the light because she didn’t have any; in her eyes. She was blind.

Meanwhile, just around the corner, light could not guide him home. A glint on the windscreen, a blink of the stone-cold eyes and car whorls into the valley of darkness. Angels wept that day but the rain did not pour. It was a clear sunny day. It did not matter for her, but it meant the world, or rather, the after-world for him.

And so, the sun sets down after a yet another purposeful day without failing to flinch for a moment. Finally giving way to darkness. To doubt. With the darkness, comes the demons. To haunt a man who is deprived. Son of the mayor, having no identity of his own. Born with the golden spoon but taste buds developed to the extent that the grandest of feasts didn’t fascinate him anymore. Bored off extravagance. He lacked motive. He had questions that even the money could not buy answers for. He yearned for a cause that was larger than life. Meanwhile, just around the corner, a girl, who was irrelevant to the entire scheme of affairs, wanted to change the world. Money was the answer to all her questions. She must act fast as time is merciless to those who can’t afford it. She had transcended beyond reason in her battle to provide a purpose to the children of the street; she was a lost cause and yet a cause for the lost. Even the devils went Hallelujah on God's mysterious ways, as he drove towards the night club in search of peace while she slept soundly on the footpath dreaming of tomorrow. The sun shall rise again...

"...but that was the thing about reality. It didn't need to make sense."
- Mira Grant, Blackout

(+92) - My Identity

I have been born and raised in those times when people really cared about Pakistan. When popular and respected figures wrote about Pakistan in their autographs. I can never forget Shaheed Hakim Muhammad Saeed's trademark 'Pakistan se muhabbat karo, Pakistan ki taa'meer karo' autograph. We hardly have such people any more. Who put Pakistan as their priority. Who portray Pakistan as their pride. Our generation has a lost sense of patriotism. We think wearing the green jersey and cheering team Pakistan in a cricket match is what patriotism is all about. We only celebrate Pakistan when in crowd (match-screenings etc), we only show concern for Pakistan on occasions (national level crisis or some jalsa demanding change). At collective level, we are considerate enough to give SOME of our time from daily lives to Pakistan. This won't do the job. Pakistan needs more. Pakistan is in a terrible state. Corrupted to its roots. Mafias everywhere (from hawkers at the street to the public transport, from police to public). Everyone has been selfish lately. Concerned about their trivial individual daily matters, least caring about Pakistan. When a nation is at such a stage, the only saviour can be 'ME'. Be the change that I want to see. We all have a responsibility to this state, no matter how much we ignore it. It is time to redeem and respond to the call! We all must do more than we expect of ourselves. That is the only way towards positive change. We've gone numb by all the wrongdoings our entire life that we don't expect much. We'd break the traffic rules because we won't be reprimanded, we'll trash our homeland because we don't consider it our home any more. Make yourself exceed your own expectations. Prioritize Pakistan. Put Pakistan as a major factor in your decision-making. Only then you are patriotic. Only then you are a Pakistani.

There's a tide in the affairs of men,

Which, taken at the flood,

Leads on to fortune,

But ommitted, and the voyage of their life is bound in shallows and miseries,

On such a full sea are we now afloat,

And we must take the current when it serves,

Or lose the ventures before us.

This post is dedicated to the person who made me realize I had not yet truly taken Pakistan into account in any of my decisions throughout my life.

Football Is Life

I had learnt what it means to play football. It's not just about the sports. It's a metaphor for life, not only the most watched sports in the world; it's the most exalting and heartbreaking and potentially tragic. It poses every conceivable element to the player, and more; disappointment, adrenaline, unspeakably bad luck, unthinkable beauty, unmatchable elation, hopelessness, helplessness, and above all a great, deep self-questioning. During our lives we're faced with so many different elements as well, we experience so many setbacks, and fight such a hand-to-hand battle with failure, head down in the rain, just trying to stay upright and to have a little hope. Football is not just a sport, not at all! It is a test. It tests you physically, it tests you mentally, and it even tests you morally. (excerpt taken and edited from It's Not About The Bike - My Journey Back to Life by Lance Armstrong)
In football, as in life; you've got a goal to achieve and you've got companions who share the same dream. In football, as in life; you'll meet resistance in the face of opponents who are determined to not let you succeed. In football, as in life; you'd sometimes need a moment of individual brilliance. Other times, you'd have your companions who'd help you win. In football, as in life; there'll be moments that take your breath away! In football, as in life; when you achieve your purpose, you are complete and you have your companions to celebrate with you. In football, as in life; you've individuals by your side who will always be willing to go the extra mile with you, to throw their bodies on the line for you. In football, as in life; you'd need assists and you'd need to assist others. In football, as in life; you'd have the moment of glory and you'd have your days of gloom. If there's a defining characteristic of football as opposed to life, maybe it's that football makes sense.

That letter 'f' in life stands for football. Without it, life remains just a lie.

Mere Mortals

Mortality is such a blessing. Time flies, death urges, knells call, heaven invites, hell threatens. Being mortal gives meaning to our existence. What we do while we are here is of value. Every action has an impact. Imagine never dying- you can continue to make mistakes, continue your ways of living, no consequences, no regret or guilt because we will be without direction and at ease, existing forever and ever, our doings without any accountability because we can never die; never dying is never living! Fear of death or harm makes us 'human', immortality is 'inhuman'. No purpose of existence, just being there and doing things. Thank God that we are limited! Eyes that can not see everything, ears designed to hear within a range, mind that functions up to a certain limit; our limits make us the most superior creation of God. We are limited so that what we do has a value, so that we are important, so that we may have a chance to show compassion to the weak, rise against tyranny, let ourselves be count! We are limited so that we can make our mark.

Seek not, my soul, the life of the immortals; but enjoy to the full the resources that are within thy reach.
- Pindar

Deserving Education

I had the opportunity to visit a revamped government school in a backward are few days back. The school used to be a dumpster and a place for drugsters. Now it's home to many young aspiring girls having dreams and hopes clearly glimmered in their eyes. The classes were small but enthusiasm high. The room was crowded but students were not complaining as each bench was shared by 3 to 4 students. The students were divided into groups of threes and fours in the playground but organized in classrooms as they innocently answered the raised questions in one voice. The classes were really vibrant and full of energy. Students were not 'pushed' to learn rather they were 'pulled' towards it as was evident from their excitement in the classrooms. They wanted to learn more and do more. They corrected the teacher that there were 8 maths questions given as homework as opposed to 5. They asked why they were to practice ONLY 10 questions in class and not more. They were eager to get their practice answers checked by the teacher and get approval and appreciation. Such students deserve scholarships, sponsorships and support. Such students deserve opportunities and platform. Such students deserve education and not just literacy. Such students deserve a bright future.

“The aim of education should be to teach us rather how to think, than what to think—rather to improve our minds, so as to enable us to think for ourselves, than to load the memory with the thoughts of other men.” 

- John Dewey