I will always remember your smiles and your innocent dreams, promise

This day marks a whole year now, I don't know how survivors are coping, or families bearing. I am lost for words, for no phrase comes close to describing the pain, loss, and grief.
Let me share something personal with you:
I was away for two years, a kid who lived next door went to this school. He used to play outside his place each day. When I would pass by he would greet me, smiling and waving, his eyes a little squinted always twinkled from afar. Now, his framed picture hangs in his uniform at the same exact spot. I couldn't bear his absence when my feet traced the same path. The thought of him gone wrenches my heart, even though I never got to know his name. I can't even begin to imagine hundreds of more innocent little ones lost forever, I can't imagine what their parents are since then, going through.
It moved Peshawar, it moved the entire world. And I bet the heavens too cringed during those cursed hours.
I pray we all realize the pain behind each bullet that found a kid. I pray we all feel the vacuum that's left till the end of time. I pray that the realization guides us in putting their pain and sacrifice before everything else. 

Doesn't Feel Like Twenty Fifteen

To begin with I would turn the leaf and wind the clock backward to what happened in Paris a while back. A renowned magazine, based in Paris, took to targeting the sentimental Muslim population not only in Paris but across the globe. The recent Paris killings have spread a new wave of islamophobia and given an incentive to the Non-Muslims to target the Muslims. How 2015 doesn't qualify in making people understand that no religion promotes terrorism or taking someone's life, in fact, teaching completely otherwise, is rather hilarious. The notion being a religion to be highly individualistic. After this many years of evolution, the minds should at least begin to register that the happenings in the name of religion are baseless.

Anyway. Condemning the Paris killings, I extend my sympathies and prayers. We have been through it time and again, and understand their pain in these trying times. It's about time everyone lowers their discriminatory flags and agree to at least live and let live, peacefully; Without planning to mischievously bring certain groups down to be on top and have the underhand doings surface after it's done and dusted.

Coming Home, a Grand Pleasure

Somehow coming home each time is almost always a grand pleasure. Now others may not seem to be affected. But the secret longing finally being fulfilled has no give or take. U decide when your schedule will allow you to escape from heaven even, just to be home. And plan ahead of time. Witnessing every mood of the unwinding road, luxurious n crappy. Comfortable n life sucking. Adding voluminous clippings to the depth of one's soul. Travel. I tell you, travel as much, travel as far n wide as you can. 



A Unique Case of "Jalaibee"

The rich sugary warm low hanging scent is well known to all the pedestrians, the magical patterns that are are weaved renders it’s luring capabilities fully effective, making every mouth watery, and no head unturned.  With over a quarter of the population diabetic, Jalebis are never taught to be selective in alluring. the sugar filled rings entices everyone into grabbing a few bites, its claws blinding people with desire. this is where it gets really dense. when fingers crawl for another ring, the head gives a halt call, so people instead indulge into a battle between craving and turning away. it’s borderline genius how nobody gets to think of making it soggy and finally making those crispy juicy crazy patterns fall into a straight line. After all it’s inviting and delicious to the eyes and taste buds, who has the heart to look into the doings of something so innocently sweet and toothsome. i wouldn’t at least think of what’s it made of, what it does inside, and how’s it acquired. who would choose to delve into the tubes of its components instead of munching away with a conscience as clear as a crystal?

Incoherent attempts at Love

An unstoppable tear-shed, thinking of all the times i was abandoned and yet i wasn't, to think of all the times i cried alone and yet alone i wasn't,  to think of all the times my wishes were granted and my attempts succeeded, the loving strokes His breeze carried.. to the poetry birds sung to the beats the oceans rolled, and notes hearts jazzed to. The mountains and leaves and valleys and rivers portraying the poetry i would too have expressed much similarly  had i set forth to paint His praise. The patience He exhibited against my timeless sins. Of knowledge He bestowed when of ignorance i hid my face. Of countless secrets He kept, of His support and security, of His watchful gaze, of all the pains i was kept safe from. Of my burdens He carried the larger share of, of times He overlooked my faults. And above all He let me be exactly the way i was. I didn't have to change for Him. A relationship with no pretense. The rarity!

Thus i came to know God;

God, have you left?

I write this, hoping that it'd reach you,

I remember the times when you used to be a prayer, a call or a cry away. then there were times when people would gather and make a collective call. Even that used to work. But none of it, in fact nothing at all qualifies anymore. You've sort of turned away far beyond anybody's reach, and now i think that the last chord has been cast away too.
I remember stating my issues when i'd come across warnings in your scriptures every now and again. it breaks my focus i'd say, i feel scared i'd complain. It terrified me. But now i'm beginning to register why - so man would refrain.
Turn back God, have mercy, we'll behave, help us, guide us.

Gone to conquer the heavens

four a.m and i wake up
to the sound of a mother's wail
the pain never to hold him again
i gasp and hide my face turning away
thanks God i have no share;

Eternity's clock

But up till now, i had sworn myself to loneliness, that part of me fossilized in time when my eye rested upon you for eternity. A moment of soulful annihilation, the unimaginable peace amidst thunderstorms a promising wrap of petals around the fragrance, the dance of the drunken bee, flying within the perishable parameters, drunkenly low, with a buzz, symphonic.

Priceless Devotion

The devotion of leaves amused me, for they whirled like the dervishes. And as i looked more intently how they jumped from one lap of the wind to another, i noticed them carrying the blueprint of every stroke existent in the tree, tree, the leaf's truth. How they swirled happily away. Completely drunk on the idea that they had fulfilled their purpose. As if they now contained the divine script encoded. Fancy that...