Real eyes Realize Real Lies
That reveal a ravenous reality
Which revels in rampant rampage
And reduces reason to rarity
These eyes that rebel against rationale
Resurrect reason to give reprieve
And rally to reassure the repenters
By resuscitating a revolution that
Reignites rancour against broken resolutions.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Affirmation Reflection
I’m not being attacked by perplexed minds
I’m not being subjugated to hatred and crime
I’m not being targeted to unwanted attention
I’m not being made in to a laughing stock
I have two legs, two arms and a pair of eyes to complete me
I have a heart, without any holes, and lungs to fill me
I have a brain, normal and detained within my own bubble
I have a voice to communicate and a will to retaliate
What have I not? I ask myself?
Do I not have it all? Wealth and health?!
But then why does my mind wander?
To intently have me ponder
On all that’s nice but just not perfect
Imperfection is what it’s bound to detect
I look at those around me, they just seem so perfect
I feel as if by being around them all I do is infect
I look at myself and see nothing but fault and defect
I look at myself in the mirror and I realize I’m incorrect
Looking at myself in the mirror, I say words that induce
Induce me to be confident, to turn away from self-abuse
And then again, all over again, I get to introduce
Myself to a reflection that says it’s time for a truce
I promise to throw away those lenses, to turn away from those eyes
That had shut the doors of positivity and grown used to despise,
I promise to look with a whole new perspective, in a way I’ve never before
And hope to bring some colour in this black and white minds core
But at the end of the day, it all becomes cloak and dagger again
Mysterious and unwanted thoughts, creep up to the mind again
Something happens which leaves me broken as my confidence crumbles
Something that only my eyes depict and miss a million others
I go back to that isolated corner, which I thought I’d never return to
Where reality hits me so hard, it’s impossible to even dream I tell you
But the cycle returns, and after much pondering and wandering
I realize the beacon of hope is still lit, if even really light
I look at the mirror which tries to repair the splintering
And then again I am reintroduced to a reflection which repeats:
“Don’t worry, everything will be alright”
I’m not being subjugated to hatred and crime
I’m not being targeted to unwanted attention
I’m not being made in to a laughing stock
I have two legs, two arms and a pair of eyes to complete me
I have a heart, without any holes, and lungs to fill me
I have a brain, normal and detained within my own bubble
I have a voice to communicate and a will to retaliate
What have I not? I ask myself?
Do I not have it all? Wealth and health?!
But then why does my mind wander?
To intently have me ponder
On all that’s nice but just not perfect
Imperfection is what it’s bound to detect
I look at those around me, they just seem so perfect
I feel as if by being around them all I do is infect
I look at myself and see nothing but fault and defect
I look at myself in the mirror and I realize I’m incorrect
Looking at myself in the mirror, I say words that induce
Induce me to be confident, to turn away from self-abuse
And then again, all over again, I get to introduce
Myself to a reflection that says it’s time for a truce
I promise to throw away those lenses, to turn away from those eyes
That had shut the doors of positivity and grown used to despise,
I promise to look with a whole new perspective, in a way I’ve never before
And hope to bring some colour in this black and white minds core
But at the end of the day, it all becomes cloak and dagger again
Mysterious and unwanted thoughts, creep up to the mind again
Something happens which leaves me broken as my confidence crumbles
Something that only my eyes depict and miss a million others
I go back to that isolated corner, which I thought I’d never return to
Where reality hits me so hard, it’s impossible to even dream I tell you
But the cycle returns, and after much pondering and wandering
I realize the beacon of hope is still lit, if even really light
I look at the mirror which tries to repair the splintering
And then again I am reintroduced to a reflection which repeats:
“Don’t worry, everything will be alright”
Sunday, August 29, 2010
A Glint Of Hope
The following story was written almost 9 months ago, 3 months after I moved to Canada for Deborah Ellis's new book, I have no idea if she's still working on it so I guess I'll just post it here.
On a fine Saturday morning I woke up and stretched my arms. I could hear the birds chirping and I looked around my room. ‘Wait…my room?’ I was confused. ‘Where am I?’ I asked myself. I got out of my bed and stood in the middle of an unfamiliar room. Confusion and bewilderment crossed my heavy-eyed face and then it hit me. I was in my new room. I was in Canada.
Three months ago my mom told me we were going to Canada soon. She was sure. A week after that she wasn’t sure, a week after that she was sure again. So the plan would change…once, twice, thrice…and would keep on changing. And through all that I would cry tears of dismay and sometimes tears of happiness.
I had finally accepted the truth that we were going to go, all my friends knew and all those who had been with me since 16 years. It was hard, very hard. Leaving my best friends, with whom I had such a strong bond, leaving my cousins with whom I had spent my whole life, leaving my school where everyone knew me, a place where everyone had voted for me to fulfill my dream of becoming the head girl of my school and accepting the fact I was going to a place where I knew absolutely no one.
My mom would make me understand that how family time is of more importance, the very reason we had to move to Canada to live with my brother and my dad. I absolutely agreed with her, but flipping someone’s life from one side to an extremely different side is torture. This reminds me of how in grade 1 I had a rabbit as my pet; I named her ‘Mushi’. My mom decided she had had enough with all the mess the rabbit made and we decided to give Mushi a new home. My school had a Rabbits cage, where so many rabbits would play around in that little world of theirs. We placed Mushi in that cage. And I could see the sadness and the feeling of loneliness in those brown eyes. It looked so different from all those huge red eyed rabbits. Every day I would pass by her and find her alone in an isolated corner. She hated that place. She wanted to go back to the home I had made for her. But she had no choice.
Just like that, I had no choice, and after so many farewells and goodbyes, gifts and tears, smiles and frowns, the day that I dreaded for long had arrived. I braced myself with a deep breath and entered the plane. Goodbye my friends and my well wishers. Farewell Pakistan. Take care.
For a person who loves the voyage in airplanes, this was one boring and dreary journey. But as I put my head down to walk through the lane of my memories again, just as I had been doing since the past few days, the next thing I knew I was in Canada.
I spent the first few weeks in my bed crying, I didn’t even feel like talking to my old friends. I was just too hurt. They reminded me of all the beautiful things I had left behind. I called it ‘The start of my new life’.
Finally High school started, I was scared. I had never been so scared in my whole life. I had learned a lot about high schools through movies, and they told that high schools are about mean girls, about bullying, about the nerds and about drugs etc. But out of all those my biggest fear was being alone. I had never been alone in my whole life, except for that very day. ‘Okay, maybe I was wrong.’ I thought to myself. People are not really mean. So far I have encountered no mean girls or bullies. Everyone is pretty nice in the classes I’ve been too. But once you’re out of class and if you pass them by and smile at them, they will ignore you. That seemed mean. But I could bear that. In the café I would sit alone, look at friends laughing out at their mates jokes, which reminded me of my own friends. Every step within that high school reminded me of my past. I just couldn’t do anything. It was hard, very hard. I remember going to the washroom and crying. But I gathered up some courage and thought I’ll be brave now.
A few days went by and I started facing some issues at home. My mom thought my tone of how I talk to her had changed. Maybe it was because I had started speaking a bit more English at home than I usually did. And in my first language there is a difference in words of how to address someone with respect even informally unlike in the language of English.
A week went by and I had made a few friends. That was quick, I realized I had to be more outspoken and confident so I worked more upon that and started to get to know more people.
It has been a month since I moved to Canada, I have made a lot of friends by now and school is getting really interesting, it keeps me busy with so many things but I like it. I volunteer to help in so many things, I am now a part of many school clubs and probably that’s how I was able to make so many friends within such a short time. I can’t say I’ve made true friends though. I had accepted that it was time to turn over a new leaf. I just needed some time to adjust. Life is struggle and mine still is like a battle. As things are getting harder for me still, every day or so an issue might rise in my home concerning me, or my parents worrying about me. I understand they will be concerned often. After all I am in a totally new place. But still, I can say one thing for sure that the worst has passed by and maybe I can look towards some better days, if not extremely good ones.
This brings me back to the tale of my beloved rabbit, Mushi. Mushi had no choice but to stay in that cage and accept it as her new home. A few weeks after Mushi moved there I realized I couldn’t find Mushi. This worried me, I got so tense, my eyes searched for her in every isolated corner but I couldn’t find her! ‘Oh…wait…maybe that’s the problem, I’m just looking in isolated corners!’ I thought. ‘But then, where else could she be?’ I questioned myself. As I looked at the bunch of rabbits that originally lived in this cage before Mushi had arrived, I spotted a brown eyed rabbit amongst those red eyes rabbits, I could even see a glint of red in Mushi’s brown eyes. Maybe they had accepted her after all. Maybe Mushi was becoming like them. It could be either, but at least it gave her hope.
Hope is exactly what I’m left with, a hope to settle within this new place. Despite the countless struggles and perils I am facing, a hope to stay the old me and try not to change so that my parents don’t complain and a hope to still stay in touch with my old friends, which we so far are. Since I believe distances don’t matter. I just need to be strong and determined.
On a fine Saturday morning I woke up and stretched my arms. I could hear the birds chirping and I looked around my room. ‘Wait…my room?’ I was confused. ‘Where am I?’ I asked myself. I got out of my bed and stood in the middle of an unfamiliar room. Confusion and bewilderment crossed my heavy-eyed face and then it hit me. I was in my new room. I was in Canada.
Three months ago my mom told me we were going to Canada soon. She was sure. A week after that she wasn’t sure, a week after that she was sure again. So the plan would change…once, twice, thrice…and would keep on changing. And through all that I would cry tears of dismay and sometimes tears of happiness.
I had finally accepted the truth that we were going to go, all my friends knew and all those who had been with me since 16 years. It was hard, very hard. Leaving my best friends, with whom I had such a strong bond, leaving my cousins with whom I had spent my whole life, leaving my school where everyone knew me, a place where everyone had voted for me to fulfill my dream of becoming the head girl of my school and accepting the fact I was going to a place where I knew absolutely no one.
My mom would make me understand that how family time is of more importance, the very reason we had to move to Canada to live with my brother and my dad. I absolutely agreed with her, but flipping someone’s life from one side to an extremely different side is torture. This reminds me of how in grade 1 I had a rabbit as my pet; I named her ‘Mushi’. My mom decided she had had enough with all the mess the rabbit made and we decided to give Mushi a new home. My school had a Rabbits cage, where so many rabbits would play around in that little world of theirs. We placed Mushi in that cage. And I could see the sadness and the feeling of loneliness in those brown eyes. It looked so different from all those huge red eyed rabbits. Every day I would pass by her and find her alone in an isolated corner. She hated that place. She wanted to go back to the home I had made for her. But she had no choice.
Just like that, I had no choice, and after so many farewells and goodbyes, gifts and tears, smiles and frowns, the day that I dreaded for long had arrived. I braced myself with a deep breath and entered the plane. Goodbye my friends and my well wishers. Farewell Pakistan. Take care.
For a person who loves the voyage in airplanes, this was one boring and dreary journey. But as I put my head down to walk through the lane of my memories again, just as I had been doing since the past few days, the next thing I knew I was in Canada.
I spent the first few weeks in my bed crying, I didn’t even feel like talking to my old friends. I was just too hurt. They reminded me of all the beautiful things I had left behind. I called it ‘The start of my new life’.
Finally High school started, I was scared. I had never been so scared in my whole life. I had learned a lot about high schools through movies, and they told that high schools are about mean girls, about bullying, about the nerds and about drugs etc. But out of all those my biggest fear was being alone. I had never been alone in my whole life, except for that very day. ‘Okay, maybe I was wrong.’ I thought to myself. People are not really mean. So far I have encountered no mean girls or bullies. Everyone is pretty nice in the classes I’ve been too. But once you’re out of class and if you pass them by and smile at them, they will ignore you. That seemed mean. But I could bear that. In the café I would sit alone, look at friends laughing out at their mates jokes, which reminded me of my own friends. Every step within that high school reminded me of my past. I just couldn’t do anything. It was hard, very hard. I remember going to the washroom and crying. But I gathered up some courage and thought I’ll be brave now.
A few days went by and I started facing some issues at home. My mom thought my tone of how I talk to her had changed. Maybe it was because I had started speaking a bit more English at home than I usually did. And in my first language there is a difference in words of how to address someone with respect even informally unlike in the language of English.
A week went by and I had made a few friends. That was quick, I realized I had to be more outspoken and confident so I worked more upon that and started to get to know more people.
It has been a month since I moved to Canada, I have made a lot of friends by now and school is getting really interesting, it keeps me busy with so many things but I like it. I volunteer to help in so many things, I am now a part of many school clubs and probably that’s how I was able to make so many friends within such a short time. I can’t say I’ve made true friends though. I had accepted that it was time to turn over a new leaf. I just needed some time to adjust. Life is struggle and mine still is like a battle. As things are getting harder for me still, every day or so an issue might rise in my home concerning me, or my parents worrying about me. I understand they will be concerned often. After all I am in a totally new place. But still, I can say one thing for sure that the worst has passed by and maybe I can look towards some better days, if not extremely good ones.
This brings me back to the tale of my beloved rabbit, Mushi. Mushi had no choice but to stay in that cage and accept it as her new home. A few weeks after Mushi moved there I realized I couldn’t find Mushi. This worried me, I got so tense, my eyes searched for her in every isolated corner but I couldn’t find her! ‘Oh…wait…maybe that’s the problem, I’m just looking in isolated corners!’ I thought. ‘But then, where else could she be?’ I questioned myself. As I looked at the bunch of rabbits that originally lived in this cage before Mushi had arrived, I spotted a brown eyed rabbit amongst those red eyes rabbits, I could even see a glint of red in Mushi’s brown eyes. Maybe they had accepted her after all. Maybe Mushi was becoming like them. It could be either, but at least it gave her hope.
Hope is exactly what I’m left with, a hope to settle within this new place. Despite the countless struggles and perils I am facing, a hope to stay the old me and try not to change so that my parents don’t complain and a hope to still stay in touch with my old friends, which we so far are. Since I believe distances don’t matter. I just need to be strong and determined.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Believe in Yourself
I have a new dream. These days I've been struggling with something as self belief. Though I do realize time and time again that nobody can make me feel inferior without my consent. Maybe it is time that I start believing in me. Let not what others say effect me. Buts its very hard, because sooner or later, no matter how much other people try to make you happy. Something somewhere goes wrong, something that only your eyes depict. And that self assurance not only obscures but shatters right there and then. My hope is to now rebuild that reassurance and believe in myself, and one day through making movies or short films, transfer this ray of light and hope on to other people who desperately need the same sort of hope to help them from drowning in this black pool of self doubt and disbelief.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Envy is a Waste of Time
As much as I try to stop myself, jealousy is hard to control. As bad as I think it is, it is something beyond my power. Sometimes when I see people my age, even younger, prosper in the world and watching my dreams being fulfilled in their form, or even worse someone I know heading towards that goal way faster than I am able to, at the moment, I am hit by this pang of jealousy and its soars, oh its sores far and deep into me.
You know, it hurts. It hurts me really bad to not be able to full fill my dreams. It de-motivates me, and even though I’m just 17 years old right now, I feel like it’s just too late for my dreams to come true now. But being 17 isn’t so old you say? It isn’t supposed to be, however in today’s world it is. Kids, children, teenagers, they’ve done SO MUCH within just the 17 years that they have lived, but what have I done? Nothing. Have I changed someone’s life? Influenced them in any possible way? I don’t think so. To me the past 17 years seems like a waste, I should’ve used those years, maybe by now I would’ve been on the way to progress.
I guess the problem is that I’m too ambitious. I can’t see people go ahead of me as I just stand there and watch them go by. I need to walk beside them, keep up the pace, and somewhere along the walk even go ahead, because it’s all just a huge race. But maybe, just maybe, my dream is not the final dream of mine. Maybe I am yet to further shape it. Of course everyone has the same dream as mine. To be known, to be wanted, to be something or someone in this world. And of course out of a 100 teenagers (my age) only 1 is able to progress at such an age. I’m just like everyone else. Isn’t that a good thing? No, it’s not. Because that just makes me ordinary. But I guess that’s what I’ve always been, am and will be.
I shall not give up though. Hope still lingers within me. Because by the time I’m 50 I sure do not want to hear myself say: Should’ve, could’ve, would’ve.
You know, it hurts. It hurts me really bad to not be able to full fill my dreams. It de-motivates me, and even though I’m just 17 years old right now, I feel like it’s just too late for my dreams to come true now. But being 17 isn’t so old you say? It isn’t supposed to be, however in today’s world it is. Kids, children, teenagers, they’ve done SO MUCH within just the 17 years that they have lived, but what have I done? Nothing. Have I changed someone’s life? Influenced them in any possible way? I don’t think so. To me the past 17 years seems like a waste, I should’ve used those years, maybe by now I would’ve been on the way to progress.
I guess the problem is that I’m too ambitious. I can’t see people go ahead of me as I just stand there and watch them go by. I need to walk beside them, keep up the pace, and somewhere along the walk even go ahead, because it’s all just a huge race. But maybe, just maybe, my dream is not the final dream of mine. Maybe I am yet to further shape it. Of course everyone has the same dream as mine. To be known, to be wanted, to be something or someone in this world. And of course out of a 100 teenagers (my age) only 1 is able to progress at such an age. I’m just like everyone else. Isn’t that a good thing? No, it’s not. Because that just makes me ordinary. But I guess that’s what I’ve always been, am and will be.
I shall not give up though. Hope still lingers within me. Because by the time I’m 50 I sure do not want to hear myself say: Should’ve, could’ve, would’ve.
Friday, August 13, 2010
Wake Up Call!
Have you ever gotten a ‘Wake up call’ in your life? Not the typical alarm clock that wakes you up for school or work, but the kind of call that knocks you off your feet and you realize that you need to get back up, only this time as a different person.
Around 3 minutes ago my brother called me. He asked me a few questions and after hearing my answers he called me dumb. Stupid, dumb and unaware. And I completely agree with the last word. He told me that in a couple of years you are going to be 20, well of course I knew that already, and if you are going to be as unaware then as now, you’re career and your ambitions are going to go down the drain. I couldn’t agree more.
He told me I should read more, I told him I already do, I just read ‘The Notebook’ last night, and he said what I meant was read the newspaper. Get to learn about political affairs, about what’s going on in the world. 20 years from now what Lady Gaga did or Selena Gomez said about Miley Cyrus won’t even matter. Again, I couldn’t agree more.
He went on telling me that I should start writing, he said he knows that my mind is full of ideas, thoughts and feelings, and he remembered how a year ago I was addicted to writing, but then I just stopped. Why? Even I don’t know. He said I should resume that addiction of mine. It will do me good. I had to agree with him on that as well.
He went on giving me numerous examples of what I do in my daily life is a huge waste of time, some of them being Facebook, YouTube, Games such as Farmville, Hotel City, in other words games that involve no thinking skills but rather all it involves is clicking…clicking and clicking. He said if I keep this up, I will be nothing but a girl trapped in the social networks, without a job, one who lost all her creativity and all she cares about is her vanity. He thinks vanity should be outlawed. That scared me.
He started off giving me more examples thinking I wasn’t convinced enough and that maybe it was really hard to get something past this thick skull of mine. And I said ‘Okay, I get it! I’ve gotten the wake up call!’ and he said ‘I’ve given you the wake up call numerous of times Maheen, but you just go back to sleep every time.’ This time again, I knew he was right.
Out of 7000 million people around the world 500 million people use Facebook. If you take out a zero from the 7000 figure thinking that that accounts the countless kids and babies in this world who do not have a Facebook account yet since they barely don’t even know what Facebook is, and the old folks who are oblivious of the internet let alone Facebook. Or the uneducated people who are still struggling with learning how to use a computer. We are left with 700 million people. Taking out 200 million from that figure for all those poor people who don’t even have enough money to buy the basic necessities such as food and water to stay alive and happy, let alone own a laptop or a computer. We now end up with 500 million; the exact amount of Facebook users. I, being one of those million users, now beg to differ. Is this my way of being different? I realized I spend hours within a day upon Facebook, and how in the world has it ever helped me? Well, of course it has helped me keep in touch with my friends all over the world, but we all know how Facebook addiction is, you use it even when there is nothing to do on it.
I just got my wake up call, better get yours too before its too late.
Around 3 minutes ago my brother called me. He asked me a few questions and after hearing my answers he called me dumb. Stupid, dumb and unaware. And I completely agree with the last word. He told me that in a couple of years you are going to be 20, well of course I knew that already, and if you are going to be as unaware then as now, you’re career and your ambitions are going to go down the drain. I couldn’t agree more.
He told me I should read more, I told him I already do, I just read ‘The Notebook’ last night, and he said what I meant was read the newspaper. Get to learn about political affairs, about what’s going on in the world. 20 years from now what Lady Gaga did or Selena Gomez said about Miley Cyrus won’t even matter. Again, I couldn’t agree more.
He went on telling me that I should start writing, he said he knows that my mind is full of ideas, thoughts and feelings, and he remembered how a year ago I was addicted to writing, but then I just stopped. Why? Even I don’t know. He said I should resume that addiction of mine. It will do me good. I had to agree with him on that as well.
He went on giving me numerous examples of what I do in my daily life is a huge waste of time, some of them being Facebook, YouTube, Games such as Farmville, Hotel City, in other words games that involve no thinking skills but rather all it involves is clicking…clicking and clicking. He said if I keep this up, I will be nothing but a girl trapped in the social networks, without a job, one who lost all her creativity and all she cares about is her vanity. He thinks vanity should be outlawed. That scared me.
He started off giving me more examples thinking I wasn’t convinced enough and that maybe it was really hard to get something past this thick skull of mine. And I said ‘Okay, I get it! I’ve gotten the wake up call!’ and he said ‘I’ve given you the wake up call numerous of times Maheen, but you just go back to sleep every time.’ This time again, I knew he was right.
Out of 7000 million people around the world 500 million people use Facebook. If you take out a zero from the 7000 figure thinking that that accounts the countless kids and babies in this world who do not have a Facebook account yet since they barely don’t even know what Facebook is, and the old folks who are oblivious of the internet let alone Facebook. Or the uneducated people who are still struggling with learning how to use a computer. We are left with 700 million people. Taking out 200 million from that figure for all those poor people who don’t even have enough money to buy the basic necessities such as food and water to stay alive and happy, let alone own a laptop or a computer. We now end up with 500 million; the exact amount of Facebook users. I, being one of those million users, now beg to differ. Is this my way of being different? I realized I spend hours within a day upon Facebook, and how in the world has it ever helped me? Well, of course it has helped me keep in touch with my friends all over the world, but we all know how Facebook addiction is, you use it even when there is nothing to do on it.
I just got my wake up call, better get yours too before its too late.
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