Reds, Stars and Dreams

And it’s the same window that induces these feelings of love, hate, despise and pain. Right when you think everything will be all right, just as life slips away, something else hits you, breaks that barrier of stagnancy. Post-poem dejection, maybe? 

Reds, Stars and Dreams

The ink that bleeds tonight

The words that I pen, envisioned through these eyes I have

A little red splattered on that dusty canvas

Smudged and spread to create a Sun that’s setting

I pick a little hue and drab my nails red

Tonight; I feel

Tonight the nails shall be red.

The wind will blow from that ghastly kiln

Bringing the smoke, the bricks once smoked

And those freshly-baked bricks lying under the white Moon

A light from the skies, a wink from above

Tonight; I feel

Tonight, I shall look at the stars.

And those drumbeats resonating from afar

Someone ties the knot, and celebrations that are

I can hear them, in the night, the lonely night

With each beat, a dream starts to tingle

And search for a way to be

For a star I see, it wants to be

Tonight; I feel

Tonight, there shall be dreaming.

On the desolate surroundings of this place I stand on

Looking at stars, reaching out with red-nails of the hand

This is beauty, as dreams surrender to the night

In the moment, there’s a misgiving

And you’re distraught.

And tonight you live again,

Forgetting all the sorrow

That even wanted to push you back on ground

Tonight’s not the night.

Tonight; I feel.

(29th October, 2011)

Tales from Mumbai: Sightseeing and Shopping

I am back after a long hiatus, all thanks to University, tough schedules and my perpetual laziness.

Today is 24th October, 2011 where I live. If you have been reading the series regularly and know what all of this is about, you would know that today marks the first anniversary of Remembering Partition. Can you believe its been a whole year? Time passes by too quickly for its own good. It should let us see absorb the entirety of the situation and let us assess where we stand. But I cannot ramble on time being static or not. Lets begin.

I left you last time with out first day in Mumbai. The second day commenced with us trying to get up early and getting dressed.Well you see, not all of us are that punctual :P.

Our first destination that day was The Cathedral and John Connon School, with Ria(s), Shawn, Kunal, Niyati(s) :P, Noosheen, Shruti, and Geeta waiting for us. We were to attend their morning classes and get to see what the typical atmosphere in a Mumbai high school is. And like I mentioned in one of the previous posts, the strictness and discipline attributed with Cathedral is a thing to see. The gates of the school closed at 8. We were to reach before that, otherwise, we would have been kicked out. No, literally, that is what Ria and Shawn told us :D.

So there we were, reaching the gates just in time ;). Ria, Shawn and Kunal in their uniform and blazers, creating a vivid flashback for me, for when my brothers used to go to BVS. They hurried us in, and took us straight to the main courtyard, where the morning assembly was taking place. Seeing the neat lines of students standing according to height and all, quite a sight it was! Because we had been conditioned to a 'no-morning assembly school, relaxed timings, rule-breaking, discipline-questioning' environment in Roots. I am not saying we party at Roots all the time, but the discipline you saw at Roots and at Cathedral, had a stark difference, so to speak. 

Seeing the building and its colonial era architecture was a pleasure as well. Classrooms with proper desks and chairs, and blackboards. The students fidgeting and looking for their bags for forbidden stuff for there was a rumor about a bag check that morning. All seven of us Pakistanis were divided into different classrooms. I took Sociology first. Maam Tehreem was with me in the Sociology class. Niyati (Mahimtura) and Noosheen were sitting with me, and the class commenced. I caught up a lot of interesting things  during the class: the discussions and the atmosphere itself. The class was discussing religion. And it was interesting because here I was, a Pakistani Muslim, sitting in between a whole class of Indian students. I am assuming most of them would have been Hindus. But the discussion was such, that I actually cannot remember there being a rift of opinions or thoughts. Sociology being a subject I had never taken before in my life, I enjoyed the lecture, much to one of the Indian student's amazement, for he went 'How could you enjoy the Socio class?!' (cue bored to death student-syndrome). Haha :D.

Next we took Maths, and we joined Alizeh, Iqra and Hamza there. Shizza was busy taking the Physics lab, highly intrigued by that! :D. The atmosphere in all the classes we went was all so similar! All the people talking endlessly, the teachers scolding and trying to make them listen, excusing the teachers, trying to avoid work etc. I guess normal student to teacher relationship doesn't really differ much around the world then, does it? ;)

Done with the classes, we also took a round to the library, which was such a nice place. And ofcourse, we still managed to talk and take pictures there as well ^_^

Done with Cathedral, we went back to CCI and had some breakfast. Teeeeheee, we were running late in the morning, yo! :P

With Niyati's Mom with us as a guide, we started off right after breakfast for sightseeing. One of the places we visited was the Gateway to Mumbai gate, that is right infront of the famous Taj Mahal hotel. 

We took a ferry ride from the gate, and it was SUCH AN AWESOME EXPERIENCE :D. Farheen had never ever before seen the sea, and thus was excited as hell :D. It felt like Karachi to me, ofcourse ;). Seeing Mumbai from its own waters, talking, walking awkwardly on the moving ferry. Conversing with Niyati's Mom and discussing lots of different things from the Mumbai heat to the subjects they were teaching at Cathedral and our own Pakistani system of education.

After that, with a little titbits of Mumbai places thrown here and there, we finally ended up for shopping on the Colaba Causwayyyyyy :D. That is probably one of the best things about the trip for all of us, coming second ofcourse to the actual conference :P.

We shopped for clutches, clutches, clutches, clutches...Okay, I shall stop :P. We DID shop for a lot of clutches na :P Iqra must have bagged her yearly supply of clutch bags on that single day at Colaba O.o Haha. From shirts to sunglasses to souvenirs, it was an experience! The tight alley-type Causeway. Shoppers trying to get customers right, left and center. The noise and din created by the chattering and bantering between the everyday customers and shopkeepers. So homely. :)

We had a late lunch at the Leopold Cafe, that was also in Colaba. And (this is a moment for my sparky circle walay friends) I HAD BIRYANI :P. HAHAHHAHAHAHHA. Ahem. Moving on :P.

That was when the Baba Jee and Mountain Theory evolved, I am assuming. Since then the we have been through ups and downs over the mountains and hills and all XD. Haye. Such nice memories. I miss you all. :)

Fed, rested and Maam Tehreem falling ill back at the CCI, it had been a long day. The plan was to have dinner with our Indian friends at a restaurant named 'Koila'. With me and Hamza trying to find medicines for Maam Tehreem and Hamza calling his dad back in Pakistan, we were confused as to what to do. Then, we decided that some of us should go first and then if Maam Tehreem feels better the rest can come a little later. So, I went with Iqra, Shizza, and Alizeh to Koila. The place was a break from the usual. Truly befitting the word, and the atmosphere associated with koilas, some of us had sheesha, while some of us went over to the small deck over-looking the city and discussing Mumbai. I remember I was with Ria and Shizza on the deck that night and I was telling Ria how I was scared and totally freaked out because I felt I knew nothing at all for the conference. Ria comforted me and told me that its just a small debate and all. We discussed the details about the conference. And then FOOD :D.

Some of the Cathedral students joined in after dinner, in their uniforms and all. They had had an exhibition and got free this late. It was fun, finally socializing freely with everyone. Joking and fighting because we wanted to pay the bill but Ria wouldn't let us. 

With two days in Mumbai coming to an end, the tension was slightly building up. It would be safe to say, all six of us were freaked out inside because honestly speaking, our preparation until then was horrifying :P. More on that anxiety and stressing out later.

For now, Day 2 had ended. It was hectic and fun. Shopping and Sightseeing in Mumbai. Absolute love.

*

Apart from the normal account of events that I narrate in this series, I think it is pertinent to mention something more in this first anniversary post. About how much this means to me.

I don't think I would be able to encapsulate it all in words, ever. But this changed me. Gradually. I have still not been able to fully grasp the enormous amount of energy and subsistence this event and this experience provides me. When I came back from Mumbai, I had a permanent smile on my face the day I went to school after the trip. I wanted to hug everyone, I wanted to tell everyone that I was a happy, happy person. It maybe because it was a personal achievement of sorts. Being awarded the Best Speaker Award was something that I had NEVER expected. It made me stronger. It made me realize that I had a place in this world. It made me confident. And it made me resilient. And today, I want to thank some of my very, VERY closest friends for actually making me realize what a big and important achievement this was. All of you in your own ways. Some of you scolded me for my modesty, and forced me to speak about it with pride :P. Some of you just kept supporting me in your own ways. And yet some of you made me realize that as it was such an important achievement personally, it should fuel my energy. It should make me strong enough to take bold steps and be proactive. Make RP happen in Pakistan as well. For this, and a lot more, thank you. :) Maheen, Hamzah, Nimra, Anum, Bilal (*high-five* :D), Khadeeja, and Farrukh: You should all know where you guys come in :).

Lastly, I want to thank the originators of this brilliant idea. Ria, for her vision and her stellar achievement in bringing her idea to practicality and making it all happen, and the rest of you for helping and achieving. That is something I admire, beyond what words can explain right now.

Paradise

This one is inspired from a song that's stuck in my head, and makes me think of what a paradise would be like for someone. What the 'idea' of paradise would be. And it makes me wonder of the things we see around us, out of our windows. They are ever-present, should their meaning be taken for granted? Shouldn't our shades of imaginative thinking be selected from these little things? These little views from our windows looking out into the world, into the wild...

Paradise

As that reed stalk stood

Gazing at the million green stalks, questions on its sides

Up, she looked, she found a cerulean sky

Some clouds, dusky sky

Shading her fears, answers

And she looked at the grass

Far from her window

Sitting high up, above from the ground

Her eyes see the flying hopes

Smiling faces only

Shaded trees only.

Not the fears, the questions, the vindications

Autumn setting

That chilly October zephyr hitting her face

Flickering eyes, dreaming peace and happiness

Of days when the grass will look up and smile at her

Not from fear or reproach

But because it felt propitiously benign

That is was okay to smile

And to live as it is again, grass as grass

You as You.

For when you smile now

It is deception

I know

Those questions, fears resurface when I look away

Those butterflies that you chase for me, you chase death

I’ll dream of a paradise

When you catch a butterfly and smile

And bring it back to me with that look on your face

Of seemingly innocent gestures

When the grass bloom from within itself, flowers

Sprouting smiles and happiness

When the grass I speak off, is present in that paradise

And the butterflies flutter in its blades

Beating the wind, the wind simmering through its wings

Woven beautification, morose tingling

Dreams of childhood

Blinking innocent eyes, butterflies beating its vagrant wings around her

And she grew up

The grass around her, grew into a forest

She searched for an answer, she found questions

And today as she looks out from her window

Face blared up against everything

The smarting wind, millions of abuses

She will close her eyes, and dream of paradise.

(22^nd October, 2011)

Sounds of Faith

I wrote this while listening to an everyday sound we tend to ignore, something that unifies most of us. If only it would remain inspirational for most of the time. Renew our faith, rejuvenate. Compliance, and subservience. Peace.


Sounds of Faith

These sounds emanating from all the corners around me

Like watering the soul

Cleansing the dirt, collected from afar

Collected within, kept harbored deep within

This bears the mark of that faith

That faith that never clamors on the soul

The faith that seldom screams or shouts

Freed from the hands holding you

It’s there, it’s in me and it fills me, whole.

The restless movement of the grass blades

Swinging to the gushes of the early evening breeze

With the afternoon fast collapsing

Leaving with it a trace of sweet reminiscing

Of memories and people, deeply forgotten

And then the sounds whisper remembrance again

They speak of non-existent verification

A belief and a constant trudging against the walls of the mind

Behind these walls, they hide and deceive

They conspire and argue, evil designs

Marching zombies into the night

But the day breaks soon

The sun shines through, all is forgotten

If I were to name you, oh You

I would name you the Moon and the Rain

The Light and Smile

Contentment and Survival

Perseverance forever.

This is faith, these sounds

Hello back, here it reaches me again.

(21^st October, 2011)

Glory that is

I wrote about this with a very specific memory in mind. Its significance is not fully captured here, this has somehow managed to portray the semantics of the mind basking in that glory.


Glory that is

Seconds passing by, leaves falling over

The autumn has come, the fall has begun

Like a silent image being painted out of oblivion

Like a silent prayer said in whispers

Never seen, admired

Never heard, but inspired

For if I had let it strangle me

And leave me alone, forever alone

I would have seen red at the very fact

Very fact of my existence

Each ounce of life that I possess

This day seems unreal, when I lived, I dreamed

I dreamed of glory oft-spoken off

And I dreamed of lives ornamented with jewels

Like that enameled life,

And like those gleaming jewels

I halt and find little beams of joy

I stop and look, little shards of delight

This is my glory,

My eternal glory

I shone on my life, my secret life

I gloated about setting sunsets

Red, yellow and the blue merging

Melting into my soul, amalgamating into the whole aura

Making me a person, a being

A force.

A force precipitating on the edge of the existence

A smiling face, a worthy proposal

This is my domain, I smile

This glory that is.

(21^st October, 2011)

That murky peace

When you let the winds carry away your pain. Let go. Look at the pain leaving you silently. And when you find peace in the darkest corridors, the darkest hours... 

That murky peace

A small, gleam look over the hapless scene
A perfect crescendo, a triumphant voice
Calling out of the trash
The mirth; the laughter in those eyes
 

I strangle the vilification, the hurls of pain
And the connection
The peace, striving to survive
This deems harassment
And yet I forge on.
 

Heaven seen through those eyes
Heaved upon those ordeals
Onto the chariots of pain
 

Away they go, sliding by
Simply their senses, simply those eyes

And a new dawn, a new place to be
This is the way, it was ordained to be

Silence, a beautiful horizon
And a streaming chariot
Carrying my pain away
Far away, into the skies
Blackened out, darkness ensues

This is my peace,
This is my breath.

(21st October, 2011)

Fly Away

Inspiration:

...and a couple of thoughts collected from here and there.
(About the song)
M: It's the kind of music that makes everything a.l.r.i.g.h.t.

A: Goose-pumps and watery eyes, check.

M: And when you close your eyes, you could fly. 

Fly Away

And when you close your eyes, you could fly

And when you stretch out your hands, you could see the horizon

Seeing you standing there

Makes me believe

Strings, voices, sounds coming to me

Making me, hearing me

Healing me

You there and a fleeting sense of elation

I pass over my feelings

Feelings of hate, feelings of a crushing pit

Into the open

I close my eyes

The red sky

The blue water

The white wings, flailing little specks of hope

You, me, the water and the free

Free moments of glory

Success, rich bountiful hardened belief in the new you

In the new me

We reach out

And it’s a moment understood

Felt

We lose

We create

Simple harmony

Etched into the minds of the great

Redolent drawings in the mind

Mind now freshens, feeds on the rain falling from the sky

The sky widening its arms

Letting me embrace a state of mind

I achieve only once, this is my place to say it

This is the place I am in

I am a moment

And an eon

I am a drop

And an ocean

I feel you

And I feel your soul asking me for help

This is the day I understand you

This is the day I understand me

Heal

Heal

Heal

Time stops

I ask time

You are flowing past me like the river I watched

You are going too fast for your own sake

Slow down, slow down

See the beauty in those little moments you gave to us

See the little colours sprouting out of the meticulous stands you created

Stands of time, we stay enslaved to your existence

And this day, this moment

I feel my hands moving

Itching as if feeling freed from the hands of time

Emancipated from the ties that bind

This is the day

This is the moment

I am the moment

And I am the time I defeated

You are there standing

Close your eyes, and fly away

Like me

Heal 

Heal 

Heal

This is the day

This is the moment

Pray 

Pray 

Pray

And this shall never be the same again

It’s your call, it’s your say

I call you, close your eyes

You could fly away.

(13^th October, 2011)

Come winter, come thoughts unsaid...

With my new displaced existence and disoriented mind practically snatching for places and times to relax and contemplate, what follows is an amalgamation of thoughts and words I have scribbled here and there. I fear repetition and recurring thoughts, but that's just implying that I have been thinking about the same stuff over and over again. Forgive me for lackadaisical words and pretty mediocre attempts to put it all out there, but really, this new lifestyle is starting to take its toll on me. But I am sure of this: some random spurts of inspiration will always hit me, at times unexpected, and I will leave saying things I have wanted to say, deep down from my heart. Moments, will always come. For now, let winter approach, let these snippets suffice...

*

Written in total seclusion and peace. External peace of course. Resulting in internal rampage of subsided emotions:

The Paradox II

So, you tried to flash past me
You tried to avert your gaze
You harbored a secret
You paralyzed my fingers
Pointing towards you.
You tranquilized, numbed and devised a puzzle

To you! :)

A little something that pulled me out of a self-inflicted, and tormenting pit of depression:

- Kisi din when I define the term friend, I will describe you.
(One day, when I define the term friend, I will describe you)

- May Allah grant you with all you ever wish for and may you continue being the source of joy that I know you are.

- You've no idea how precious you are.

For the special someone who said this, thank you. :)

I am ever so grateful for knowing you. Feeling you. And knowing that you know me.
God bless you for this. Your words helped me move on. They did.

I know this is not the best kind of post to honor you, but just know this: such compliments, words make my day. They keep me going. And they transform me.

A little plea

Random musings. Little feelings...

A little plea

Ah, such a wonder you are
I feel you, splashing
Caressing your way
Through the smoke, through my eyes
Always you, that penetrates, that stays

Lingering labyrinths, pervasive agony
So many ways, so many days: wasted
Uselessness, and a rose that I hold up
For days, waiting for an answer
Nod of heads, or a peaceful crest-fallen face
Eyes searching here, and there; here again
Clashing hands, sounds that reach my ears
But never my mind.
For I stopped listening, seeing and feeling
I try to feel only you.

I need a getaway
For my soul's dripping away
Drop by drop
Little silent worlds of blood-red agony
Spheres of gold, dusted pains
Irrational soul?

Drink some feelings
Drown yourself in some remorse
You need that
You need that
You need that.

And, I win.

(1st October, 2011)