Now stop this blood shed
On the street beside pure lake
Wine's already red
Encountering EmancipationEncountering Emancipation
The cage was opened but she didnt fly. A bird forgets to fly if she is kept in a cage for years. My daughter read the last sentence of the book, the book got closed and she was upset. In the living room, her eyes fixed on the drawer of the TV trolley, she was trying to find something. Focused in even small things, she would never compromise on putting her best in anything she does. She is my girl but completely unlike me.
What are you trying to find? I have just cleaned that drawer yesterday.
Who uses it in our house that you will find it?
I will find it myself. You dont worry. You just see this.
I am sitting on a long sofa and trying to relax while she is busy in her treasure hunt for the correction pen. Tasneem passed me a photograph. Photographs bring memories back and you feel like you are back in that old time, living all those moments again. It was her childhood photograph
The Invisible ManI was sitting there like an invisible man. It was by my own choice. A lady came to the street where ATM stood tall. I was waiting since so long. I robbed her. The ladies who who saw me are now dead. The street was not a busy one. There were only four females, one got robbed and three got killed. Why did I leave the one whom I robbed? The answer is simple. I love hiding, like an invisible man. The hide and seek game was listed as an achievement in my resume of life. Secondly, I only rob a person once. There were only two choices either rob or shoot. I chose money and I am still the invisible man. Police is still trying to find me but they wouldn't be able to find me because I am an invisible man.
I was sitting there like an invisible man and dreaming such non-sense.
SMILESmile does it for everyone. Just a smile. Have you ever received a smile from stranger? It is so selfless that it just gets into deepest chord of your heart. You know it is not fake. You can feel the warmth and the joy. Even fake smiles work. It has a fair chance to make you happy but more than that it does make other people feel special. Still try to put a heartfelt smile rather than a fake one. Smile to everyone, even if that person is a stranger. Who knows that smile can change that person life forever. Who knows that smile can vanish some anxiety/worry which had a strong potential to make a huge lost afterwards. Who knows that smile can give him/her a zeal to live.
Pass it on with a smile
Thank you - Mom - you rockA mother love is everybody's first love.
So is mine, and will always remain.
Maa, Thanks for always being there.
For being my best buddy.
For doing every possible thing to make me happy.
For all the time, support and moments we share.
For shaping my personality.
For encouraging me every time.
For seeing dreams from me.
And all the unconditional love.
Now its my time.
I wish and pray I can do the same.
Wish me luck.
Love ya Mom.
Love of a full year, one day of recognition
Love of a lifetime.
And you my dear God, you are great. Life is indeed a blessing in so many ways and its only you who could make such special creations.
My MomMother - a feminine manifestation of love. Love that is name of sacrifice for her when she doesn't eat something so her child (no longer a teen) can enjoy eating it. Love, which shapes up as hope when she wants her son to be best and succeed. Love molds into her pride when her darling walks up to the rostrum and gets an award. Love which turns into aggression so she can fight for his son's survival, fetching for him his well-deserved recognition. Love becomes support and guidance, ever ready to be given whether he wants it or not. Her love can be illustrated as a hug, as a pat on her back, or may it be a compliment or simply, magical and soothing "Love".
My mom – a part of me, she is part of my life – most appropriately – she is my life. She is so very important I live through her breaths. I am her reflection, ambition, hope and faith and she is my mirror. Her love is unconditional, priceless and precious. Thank you my dear God for giving her to me as a blessing of yours.
Haunting Deja VuHaunting Déjà vu
It was Friday the 13th. The fairy angel was walking aimlessly whole night. The night, which was under the magical spell of full moon, betrayed the fairy by taking away all her magical powers. Though she still had her wings intact but now they were just reduced to ornamental prominence. She could no longer fly in the wind. The wind danced to the howling of the wolves and snatched the red roses out of the mother tree's hands. If fairies had blood in their bodies, she would have surely bled out completely from such treachery but her wings were red due to the color that roses shed to share sorrow with her. The bed of roses crushing under the angel's feet led to a grave. She was so engrossed in her spirit's hollowness that she didn't know she was in a graveyard. On reaching close, the sight and the mind started to converse with one another. Her consciousness took the message that her senses were trying to convey; it was her worldly name on the grave. But the fact sti
Before the dawnI
Ahmed was deeply engulfed in a book. He was enjoying the first printed edition of a vintage book. He loved to collect antiques and then sell them so other people can have the pleasure equally. Old is Gold, and they truly believed its preciousness. Similarly there is nothing like first love.
Sara entered the antique shop. He went to the entrance to receive her.
"A donut for you."
"Like always, thanks"
Antique furniture and there conversations were a routine. Ahmed excitedly showed Sara the new addition to hBedis collection.
"I got this book for just $10. They were throwing this valuable piece into trash. A 50s original. See! This is a first edition print. It is a personally signed copy."
"Very interesting. Great addition to be exact."
"So how was the day at the shop?"
"The usual plain donuts, sugarcoated people."
"That isn't that boring!"
"Just stand there for some hours and you'll know"
"Did you make any new sketches?"
"The ones which are for the university projects."
"I would love t
He's InsaneHe knows he was special, he always felt that uniqueness somewhere inside. He knows the fact that never in the history has been anyone exactly like him, nor will there be again. He also knows that every man was unique in his own way but he is among the lucky few people who realize it.
He is loud and full of life in the deepest details. He loves to talk but it was not the case when he was a child. He didn't speak for two years on this earth because of which his parents were quite worried. They consulted a doctor and after the checkup the result was out. "Whenever he'll speak, he'll speak to such an extent that it will be difficult for you to make him silent", predicted the doctor back then. The guess came true; he is a complete chatter box. Now he wants to be a motivational speaker. He wants to change the world and the minds by using this skill in his workshops where he can help people to improve and kindle a spark of hope in them. He believes small steps lead to a bigger change. People
The Chance The Chance
"What do you mean by saying we should give this relationship some more time?"
"Are you mad? I don't have any free time to spare, at least not for you"
"But Faiz… I can't even imagine my life without you."
"Do one thing, take some sleeping pills! It will help you to get some sleep, at least for tonight."
Faizan ended the call. He always used his left hand to do so, always. As soon as he pressed that button, his sight went to the watch that he was sporting on his wrist of the same hand.
The gold-plated watch compelled the memories to flow from his mind into his heart and continued its journey with the blood completing its uninterrupted cycles throughout the body. It was his twenty second birthday when he was gifted this watch by her girl friend Mayra.
"Thank you so much. I simply love it."
"After all our choices are so similar."
"..and I love you."
He could smell her aroma in his bedroom. Place where they shared some lovely moments, strangely not toget
Someone asked me what is love
is it good, is it bad
is it awesome, is it terrible
I honestly didnt know how to answer them.
I finally desided love is the most complicated of all emotions
Love is kind
love is harsh
love is wonderful
love is terrible
love is a cure
love is a sickness
love is LOVE
love is hate
love is meaningful
love is pointless
love shows the best in people
love shows the worse in people
love makes us speak truth
love makes us lie
love understands everything
love confuses everyone
love builds your life
love tears your heart down
love makes you smile
love makes you cry
love makes us cuddle
love makes us hit
love makes the world go round
love makes the world go crashing down
love makes things simple
love makes things impossible
love is always worth it
love is never worth it
love makes us smarter
love makes us stupid
love is enlightening!
love is BLIND
make love not war
make war out of love
love is peaceful
love creates fights
love is sooth
SuicideSuicide... they call it sin
They say it is a death in which no-one wins...
They encourage you not to do it, they say it is wrong...
But who is there to encourage you when you can't be strong.
You feel like you have no-one, not even a friend.
No shoulder to cry on, just one last letter to send.
tragedies - collab.you deserve all the cobweb dreams,
fairytale hopes, and explosive love
in the world, but i know that i
will never be the one
to give them to you.
you need notes that end with
'ps - you're brighter than
twenty-seven silver stars'.
i can't bring myself
to write them, though.
it's not like you'd read them,
i cut out paper hearts and
dreams and gave them to you, but
you only ripped them up and said
'these aren't good enough.'
when i painted you a picture
of golden skies and sunshine smiles,
you handed it back and told me
'next time, paint realistically.'
so i wrote you a story
filled of starless nights and
hopeless dreams. you said 'no,
i don't need this. you're
tragedy enough for me.'
by the time i was humming you
melancholy lullabies through the receiver,
you had already surrendered
to the sweet grasps of sleep.
'i'd rather nightmares than you,'
you said, hanging up the phone.
i kept singing anyway, hoping
that you would stop running
long enough for me to catch up.
but i forgot -
the speed addictthe speed addict knows if he stops moving,
he will die. so when inertia takes hold
his heart falters and his head slams against
a future, lit by the dashboard. he hears
his veins stuttering like gears grinding out
a staccato refrain, while the wheel spins and
goes numb. as his breath twists away from his grip,
rasps a hol
heart song.this is the song
to your heart.
why are you locked inside
a bathroom stall? no one
to hold you, tell you sweet
lies and say you are
beautiful, say you are
perfect? it's not the end of
the world, not yet. if it was,
wouldn't there be
your heart is not yet
dead; please do not
say it is. if it was dead,
it wouldn't hurt this
your heart is only sleeping.
when the only melody in your head
is a break up song, and the only thing
your heart seems capable of doing
is twisting itself into knots, and the only
thing you want to do is hide and escape
we are talking about finding
eternity in the things people
throw away. we are talking about
listening to the moments of silence
in between heart beats. we are talking
about distances shortening and
people realizing they can
we are talking about
one of the greatest tragedies
in life is that
DementiaThe old man sits with stooped back.
The room is cold, just like his hands.
Thoughts have wandered like small children.
He wonders if he will see home again.
Thoughts have wandered home again,
with stooped backs and cold hands.
The room sits with the old man.
Like small children, he wonders if he will see cold.
Back stooped with thoughts, he wanders.
Like a child the small room sits, wondering.
Home again is cold.
The old man will see with his hands.
Thoughts have wandered with stooped backs.
The cold hands sit with the old man.
He wonders if he will see like small children.
The room is home again.