New Year's Wish

The year is at end, and what did I gain;
A list of sorrows, too long to name

Followed my heart to the path of love;
Just to get it broken by a crafty dame

It took some time, but I changed my mind;
From the nightmares of past, to the dreams of fame

My thanks to those who stuck by me;
And helped see that life is just a game

And whether we go through thick or thin;
Our ties will be strong, all the same

May the next year bring us all that we wish;
May the friends stay strong, and the enemies, tame

10 Words - 1 Story (1) -- The Beginning

Words: Peculiarity, Restraint, Favouritism, Emotive, Disruption, Garb, Integration, Intercalation, Gallant, Laconic

"Sorry", she mumbled as she moved her foot from his, quickly moving her eyes away as she continued to walk in the other direction.

Long ago, Alfred had made it a habit to walk to work, and he still stuck to it. Consequently, incidents like this one happened a lot to him. Yet, it was somehow different this time. Call it favouritism, but he actually liked it this time, even though there was nothing special about the girl. She had a plain face with soft brown eyes, her garb was traditional work attire of pleated skirt and a white blouse. The only peculiarity was her red hairband that probably indicated a youthful nature. It was the integration of these common sights, however, that had caught Alfred's attention. He longed to go after her, but when he glanced at his watch, he realized that he was already getting late for work; the biggest restraint that has kept him from pursuing his dreams.

At that moment, however, he felt different. He could sense something (was it gallantry?) slowly creeping up inside him, intercalating itself between his confidence and his dreams, ousting his indifference and love for monotony.

Someone bumped into him, jostling him from his reverie. Looking around, he realized that he was standing idle in front of the ticket machine, disrupting the flow of commuters who were anxious to reach their workplaces, and consequently, were giving him angry stares. A few muttered obscenities as he hastily moved out of their way.

He had to find her, now. He had to see how she had changed him with a casual glance. He had to know her. So he skimmed the crowd till his eyes caught a glimpse of her red hairband, and to his amazement, his feet started moving towards her as if they knew how urgent it was to reach her. Gradually, he quickened his pace till he was practically running, and caught up with her just as she turned onto another street. He was breathless, panting due to lack of air in his lungs, and his legs screamed at their sudden overuse. Despite his disheveled state, he reached out and tapped her on the shoulder.

She turned around, quickly but gracefully, and abruptly, Alfred found himself face to face with her. She smiled with recognition, but as her eyes took in his state, her face became quite emotive: concern, pity, wonder and mirth written all over it. Suddenly, she understood it all had been for HER, and her eyes lit up with joy and longing. And Alfred, who had always been scared of rejection due to his laconic personality, felt his jaw relax as his face mirrored her smile, and at that moment, he had no doubt about how he was feeling: he was in love.

For Whom The Bells Toll

He was flying, but he couldn't see what was carrying him, making him soar upwards like an eagle. Most teenagers would have been terrified by just imagining this: the probability to plummet any second to his death. Only the unseen harness supported him, but he was used to believing in the unseen, for he was a Muslim. His faith was strong like a bar of steel. He knew he won't fall to his death, no matter what happened. However, he still found it surreal that he was dead, and the part of him flying was just his soul.

As he flew, he could clearly see the gaping holes in the social fabric of the country he hailed from. A nation with the conviction of madmen, and belief of angels; who could have grown to be the greatest nation, had its ego not created barriers amongst them, separating them, causing them to waste their energy on pointless grudges against each other. And that was the biggest irony: his people were the only ones on this planet who believed they're stronger when divided.

He could see his schoolmates being decimated like vermin; the attackers being as sympathetic as a lump of coal. He could hear the wails of his mother, clinging to his lifeless body and kissing his forehead like he was merely asleep, and not dead.

The attackers were all dead now, but they had done the damage they intended to do. He could see the politicians now, back with their hollow promises of justice. He remembered the same words from the time his uncle was killed in a drone strike. The officials had promised justice back then too, but that's all it had been: a promise. He and his friends had vowed to use their education for bringing a change when they grew up, but now, for the better or worse, they were all gone.

He was in the clouds now; the mortal world hidden from his view just as he was concealed from theirs. He could hear laughter above him, and he knew he was almost to his destination. Even then, he couldn't stop thinking about the ones he had left behind. He hoped his family would find courage to make it through without swelling the ranks of the miscreants who attracted followers by promising them vengeance. He hoped his people would unite and change the system of their country, bringing the luxuries like food, shelter and hopes for future to everyone, instead of restricting these for the rich. He hoped the media would not let the people forget the price he and his friends have paid to wake the nation up. He hoped they grow out of their short-term memories and keep remembring their goals. He hoped the religious scholars would finally stand up to draw a unanimous line between jihaad and terrorism. He hoped to see all of his people someday, at the place he was headed towards...

Hanging Out With My Hyde

"I don't do friendships anymore", he scoffed as he sat back and sipped his milkshake. I tried to hide my aversion as I asked him why.

"You know all about me, so I don't have to recount everything I've faced. In fact you've faced it too, but have been too coward to do anything about it. So I decided to act by taking over". Here came another sip of the milkshake, and suddenly my very own Mr. Hyde smiled at me, sending a shiver down my spine.

"For years, I watched on, while you brought us both hurt and disappointment. You trusted everyone, even when you knew deep inside that they'll betray you. You always kept you word even if it meant being on the losing end. When you cared, you gave all you had; when you loved, you failed to see their dark side; when you befriended, you refused to hear anything negative, even when you saw the proofs of their inner darkness. You, Master Aech, have overlooked the truths of life while you held fast to you juvenile belief that everything is either black or white, and with that, you ignored the acres of grey areas that lay in between, simply choosing to ignore them. Not everyone keeps others' best interests at heart, my boy, and since you haven't done anything about it, so I'll step in to show you how to do it". The wicked gleam in his eyes terrified me, but I managed to stammer: "Wh- what have you planned?"

"Oh, don't worry", he chuckled. "I have sentiments too. Things will be pretty much same with me in charge".

"Then what will change?", the question burst from my mouth before I could think it through. However, my Hyde just laughed. "Well, I told you I don't do friendships. We have been betrayed too many times to trust this sentiment. Granted, we have found some pretty cool friends on the way, but how can we believe that they won't hurt us eventually? No, its too big of a risk." Another long sip of milkshake before he resumed. "Alliances, are what I have in mind. They work like friendships mostly, but whenever we'll feel that things are looking down, we'll simply move on instead of sticking around to help. And..."

"That's horrible!", I yelled, not believing it was actually a part of me saying all this. "We can't be like that, no matter what anyone else does!"

"Nonsense, Jekyll. Its karma: we'll pay the world back in the same currency it has been dealing us all these years. We'll show them what it means to have your hope extinguished just when you need it the most. We'll start tomorrow, when you're up. Now go, and rest."

And with that, he got up and calmly strode off, leaving me to wonder what the future will be like...

Fading Away...

“Want some tea?”, he called from the kitchen.

“Duh, no! I just had coffee!”, she replied disdainfully from the den.

“Oh, but she never asked me if I wanted some. Well...”, he muttered as he walked up the stairs to the snug room. Their relationship had been falling apart for the last few months, but he had been doing his best to keep it together. Strangely, he didn’t even know the cause of this deterioration, as nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Shaking his head to clear it of the dark forebodings, he entered the living room, sat his cup down on the table and walked up to his guitar. Picking up the case, he started unzipping it, wanting to sing her a song, and not just any song, mind you. He had GnR’s “November Rain” in mind, the one he had always dreamed of singing to her. However, just a glance at her frowning face was enough to make him put it down. “Maybe later”, he thought as he closed the case again, sighing just audibly as he slouched past her and settled in his comfy chair.

“So sweetheart, how was your day?”, he asked tentatively. “Did Mr. ‘Perks’ treat you well?”

“Hahaha, of course dear! He has been very nice and accommodating since I organized that soft skills workshop! He appreciated the innovative idea very much, almost too much! And the audience was so supportive”, she gushed as she recalled Open Week, the most successful in- house event of STEM n’ ROOTS, a consultancy and career counselling company they both worked for.

It was his idea, of course. All brilliant ones were his. They had planned to conduct this ‘refresher’ workshop for their respective departments simultaneously. However, his department head was a bit reluctant towards approving the event. “We’ve never had this sort of an event, and I’m afraid the department members won’t be interested. Furthermore, it’s not our job to keep them on the track.”, was what his supervisor had told him. Rather than risk postponing Open Week in both departments, he had asked her to go ahead with it in her department. Although he claimed it would serve to demonstrate the workshop’s importance to his head, but in fact, it was due to his ever-present desire to see her on top of things, and organizing a successful event for the first time would certainly take her a long way.

She had gone ahead and organized the event, forming a team on the way, but keeping him updated throughout the procedure. It proved to be a smashing hit, with the company employees turning up in throngs to attend the event. Despite the fact that it was his idea, and it was he who motivated her to manage the event, he didn’t even get an invitation. It had stung him like hell, but she claimed that since their departments didn’t have anything in common, so it would be useless for him if she asked him to come. “However, you can come if you really want to.”, had been her response.

“It doesn’t matter if it would help me or not. I’d love to come if someone cares to invite me” had been his final attempt to make her realize how much he wanted to be with her, and how much her willingness mattered to her. However, it didn’t change anything. Weekend came and went, with him back at his place, sleeping the Open Week out. No one missed him at the event. And she became a star overnight.

Now, as he sat opposite to her, he didn’t know how to ask her for the post-event report. He needed it to convince his supervisor that not only was the event worthy of being organized at STEM n’ ROOTS, it had already been organized once with very encouraging results. Mustering up his courage, he leaned forward a bit and spoke: “Hey, have you people composed a post event report? That sort of thing is really necessary, especially after a successful event”

“Uh-oh”, she nodded, her eyes glued to her laptop screen.

“Can I have it for a couple of days? I need to show it to my supervisor, to prove that Open Week isn’t a waste of time. That old man still lives in the ‘60s”, he said with a nervous chuckle, uncertain how she will respond. But as she closed her laptop’s lid and took off her glasses, he knew he had her undivided attention. Nevertheless, nothing could have prepared him for what came next.

Have you ever been in love with someone who wasn’t aware of, or at least pretended to be unaware of, how you felt towards them? Have you ever, dear reader, tried to have your actions speak of the inexplicable love you have for someone who wants to have nothing to do with you, except perhaps using your skills and connections for their own well- being? Have you, o handsome fellow, suffered the pangs of unrequited love, hoping the person in your dreams will come to realize how you feel and what you have for them is priceless, that they’ll be lucky to receive even half of that from any other human? If yes, then you might understand how our poor boy had been pushing on with his life, and what her response could’ve done to her.

As she straightened up, he looked into her eyes, hoping that, for once, she’ll acknowledge what he has done, rather, has been doing for past couple of years. He longed for a glimpse of acceptance, either in her words or her actions. However, he was stunned when she finally spoke, her every word cutting her like a knife: “Open Week was a private event of my department”.

To say that he was dumbstruck would be a gross understatement. He saw the whole world spinning before him, felt a constriction in his throat that had nothing to do with thirst. He remembered the times they had shared together, resulting in some of his fondest memories. His past two years flashed before his eyes: his attempts at expressing his feelings to her, the happiness he always experienced when he saw her, the times he had spent staring at her pictures, the thrill he used to experience whenever he heard her voice, all came crashing down in his lap, along with the elusive truth: she wanted to have nothing to do with him. He was a tool, a means of climbing the ladder of life. Maybe she really trusted him, even considered a friend, but she had never been there when he needed her. His assumptions were fading away, as were his dreams. The pedestal had crumbled, bringing the goddess he worshipped to the ground.

Wordlessly, he stood up and left. He didn’t want to, even now, but he knew it was for his own good. But he knew he would never be able to forget her; the girl who meant so much to him.

Back in the den, she looked up as she heard the front door open, and close. Her expression was unfathomable as she sighed and put the documents away. Suddenly, she spotted the cup of tea he had made earlier. Steam was still rising from it...

Is 'Naya' Pakistan Possible With 'Purana' Mindsets?

It was almost 1:30pm, and I was idling at the Seasons’ Chowk Lahore, waiting for the signal to turn green so that I could pick my mom up from P.U., when I noticed a transgender beggar asking the car driver in front of me for money. I started to look away, knowing this was a common sight on the roads of Pakistan, when I saw the driver snatch the beggar’s “dupatta”. Now that was something I’ve never seen before. However, before my mind could process it all, the driver got out, and in quick succession, slapped the beggar and delivered a hard kick to the groin. After that, all that happened is a blur, but I do remember being the only person who got out (or off) his vehicle to break the fight. The driver took off as soon as I freed the beggar’s hair from his fists, and left the poor victim to sink on the floor and sob while a crowd looked on.

If you were expecting something more dramatic, dear reader, then I’m sorry to have disappointed you, for I’m only hoping to shed some light on how apathetic we’ve become. We began as a nation which stuck to its roots, and now we’ve become a bunch of people who, in order to show our ‘modern’ spirit, and bent upon defying everything our culture and religion expects from us. We term our culture suffocating, but what has following others brought us besides a (now embedded) inferiority complex?

The dilemma, my fellow countrymen, is that on one hand, we scream for change. We highlight the irregularities in our governing bodies and vehemently demand a ‘naya Pakistan’, and on the other hand, we turn to zombies whenever we face the mirror of our conscience that demands we change ourselves first. We, my dear readers, have become the epitome of hypocrisy. Take me, for example. Here I am, preaching about the faults in our character, but come tomorrow, I’ll be out on the roads, violating traffic signals just to show my friends how cool I am.

“Why write this article then?”, some of you might ask. A fair question, but then again, the only thing we are good at these days, is raising questions. So while you’re at it, go ahead and ask yourself something too. Ask yourself if your life exists beyond your favourite food and shopping haunts. Ask yourself if your sympathies are aroused for anyone other than your immediate family or friends. Ask yourself if your money has ever found a way out of your pocket for any cause which had nothing to offer you in return (except maybe prayers). And when that familiar face in the mirror answers you in negative for all these queries, don’t despair. Do not try, in vain, to search your conscience amidst the debris you have accumulated inside yourself. Do not attempt to wipe the ego off your eyes, for the world beyond is very bleak. Do not pluck out the weeds of hatred and self-righteousness from your heart, for my dear reader, you are not alone. You are surrounded by a country full of people just like yourself. Accept your destiny, and let the country run. Follow the footsteps of that old man who stepped out of his car only when I had stopped his driver (presumably his son) from beating and abusing a defenceless transgender. Be like him: obnoxious and haughty, untouched by any worldly law as he drove away after that heinous deed. Be the same, because to be different is to be condemned by the society. But if you feel a stirring inside you, a hand of hope reaching for the light, don’t crush it. Nurture and guide it, for if we want this country to be a place worth living in, we have to be the change we want to see around us.

And this, my faithful reader, is where you laugh inwardly at my optimism and open your Facebook to plan the next holiday with your friends.