Goodbyes...

That last gaze! For a fleeting second, time seems to halt. You’re looking at your loved ones leaving you again. Staring intently, as if you will never get to see them again. Taking in the scene. Wishing the time would stop. And then it comes to you, the little swelling at the bottom of your throat. Something wells up leaving you gasping for air. It hurts when you breathe though. And, no matter how hard you try that swelling keeps moving upwards and you pinch yourself hard, trying not to lose it. You have to be strong. Strong for your mother. But the pain wouldnt stop! It overwhelms you and that first tear escapes your eyes followed by an endless stream. Flowing down your cheeks, leaving your face blotched. You tried! And youre angry at yourself for not keeping it together once again. The security guard approves the ticket and your brother-after a last look- goes inside those departure gates. You look at your mum and she stares right back at you. Hes gone again. May Allah be with him.

BEAUTY

We are all a little broken inside, and if you can’t see the beauty in our imperfections, it will be sad. A newborn baby is perfect. In those initial few days out of the mothers womb, he/she is complete. But as we age, cracks form. Like the age old architecture and primitive buildings that gain their beauty and value with time, no matter how rusty they get; A human soul also gains its beauty in the imperfections that lead to our diversity.

‘Stereotypes kill'

She was murdered in cold blood. Volumes of scarlet liquid gushed out of its petite abode, nourishing the parched earth. The carmine snake sequined dress that draped her tender silhouette spoke of its late owner’s radiant splendor. The scars and bruises on her body screamed loudly of the torturous death that the victim had endured. Her only fault, she had always believed, was being a woman!

The kitchen knife slipped from his bloody grasp and fell on the floor with a loud clank. He was scared. Every tick of the passing second, seemed to be informing him of the impending doom. She had gashed his left cheek and it oozed steadily now. The loss of blood unsteadied him for a while, until he retained his balance. Before the realization of the intensity of his vice could dawn upon him, he swiftly dragged Tanya’s limp body across the yard to bury it.

His late wife had served him well, he thought!

Right after their wedding, Tanya had earnestly prayed for a boy. Her prayers had gone unanswered three times in a row. She had been blessed with three wonderful daughters. It was her fourth time expecting a child and Anwar’s haughty temperament told her that he was in no way ready to accept another girl. ‘Baitay baap ki izzat aur taqat hotay hain, aur baitian bezati aur kamzori’, he always said. (Boys are a source of respect and power for the father while girls bring disgrace and weakness). She didn’t think so. Aalya, Anaya and Anushay meant the world to her. However, she was extremely frightened of Anwar’s rage and resentment.

On the birth of their fourth daughter, he couldn’t take the ignominy anymore and so buried the baby alive! It was the first time since their wedding when Tanya had ever fought back.  She didn’t have to die, Anwar thought. ‘She had forced me to kill her by being so impudent. How dare she question my acts?’ Anyhow, he was a man and he had learnt from his forefathers that men had the right to do as they please with their women. He could always remarry. Not resenting a thing, he left his house sending one last glance towards the three tiny shadows hidden behind the door.

Tanya, like many others, had been a victim of the stereotypes and discrimination of the society. 

~Random Feelings

You know those dreamy nights, when everything seems surreal. The times when the boundary between reality and dreams becomes so hazy that the two seem as one. That is the time, when I get scared. Why? 

Because it seems that these delicate moments would slip away from my fingers, leaving my physical self in an everlasting torrent of screeches, heart breaks, agony and dejection! - As Shakespeare said,We are such stuffAs dreams are made on, and our little lifeIs rounded with a sleep…

Lets Dance, Shall We?

Lets Dance, Shall we?

For all those words that were said.

And all the moments that we spent.

Immersing ourselves in this hazy veil

pretending that our success is indeed at bay

For that is what stops us from going astray

Wandering off in search of the supposed abyss

Let us dance for the starry sky

for moments spent playing with our ever gay friends

To all those times when we fought and prayed

that we would never get to see each other again

Lets thank our Lord for never granting that wish

or we'd be living in solitude till today.

My Little Bundle Of Joy!