Choices

In real, nobody wants to the most evil person like "Mojo Jojo" and "Him" from the powerpuffgirls. Nobody thinks they are wrong. The villains, thieves and other people who we are made to believe are evil, aren't. Sure, the deed we do might be wrong but we think we are just being fair and reasonable. Our motives and intentions are pure. Even Voldemort has (technically had, he is dead haha) his true-blood mania which is why he kills people. But the thing is, we ARE wrong. We might think we are doing the right thing but we are NOT. So the problem is here and its that we have given up thinking. We CAN distinguish between the right and the wrong and we DO have choices. And yes, sometimes the right choice is hard and far-away, but we do have it and its OUR choice to choose the easy way. And so in the end its all on each and everyone of us: on what WE think and what WE choose.

Reason To Smile

Its around 3 AM on the clock and I am on my way to the airport. I am on the backseat with another person and alot of luggage. I am sleepy and tired. I hear the person sitting next to me call my name. I turn my head  to look at the person. The person says "thank you for it. I loved it" and hugs me. I am not tired or sleepy anymore. I am smiling now. I nod and tell the person that it was no problem. I feel happy now. I feel sort of proud.
The day before, I threw the person a surprise birthday party. It was a success, the person got surprised and everything was perfect. I had worked hard all day to get the whole thing right. Five minutes before the surprise was supposed to take place, I was so disappointed. I thought it was ruined. But it wasn't and everything turned out to be fine in the end. The next day, the person had to catch a flight and leave the country.

And so, at 3 AM, I am in the car to see off the person. I was tired but I feel glad now and the tiredness feels worth it. And it makes me think that sometimes making someone else happy makes you even happier than them. And all the problem you went in, for them, feels valued. Once in a while you should stop thinking about what you want and what makes you happy and try to find out what others want and what makes them happy. And sometimes, that alone can give you the joy you never thought of.

You Deserve It

I close my eyes and block out all the voices around me until they are nothing more than vague whispers and I ask God for what I want. "Please please please" I say silently and I wait for the miracle to happen. And when it does, it gives you happiness that is indefinable.
But once in a while you dont get what you want. And once in a while "the" thing is something you really really want. And thats when you get disappointed. Maybe you can hide it with your usual laugh, but its there and you ask God "why?".
You know, in your heart, the answer to the "why". You know you can't expect miracles to always be miracles. And you know that sometimes you've got to just accept what you deserve even if it might be the last thing you want. And sometimes you just have to be thankful for all the things that you DID get instead of crying over the things you didnt.

Its Twelve

Its strange how I longed for growing up. I would wait impatiently and count the minutes for the clock to strike twelve. The twelve of my birthday. My wait would end to start an amazing day when I would have a perfect day at school, when I would get home to get kisses and hugs from my family and finally a perfect cake to cut with my perfect family around me, clapping and singing. And I couldn't wait for another amazing year.

But year by year the definition of amazing just wasn't the same as it was the year before. Yes, there were more people wishing me a happy birthday but I think it was like something that you HAD to do just because Facebook said it was my birthday. And people who hadnt talked to me in ages would wish me. It had no meaning. The expectations that I had been led into having from all the amazing years now led to disappointments. And the growing-up that I had been longing for now made me wish I was a kid again so I could feel special atleast on the day that was supposed to be mine. And then finally the twelve was start of just another day. Tic. tic. tic.

Escape

I was panicking. Running away from what I had done, I couldnt stop even for a while to catch my breath(This time I had murdered my sister :| ). I ran and ran until it came into view : A big, beautiful, white house with royal blue windows that stood alone on the sandy shore of a sea. In my mind, I knew it was my house. I stood on a flat hill that overlooked the scene. A cold wind blew in my face and I wrapped my arms around myself. The scene was breathtaking. I felt relaxed and calm. I felt saved.

One more time I had this dream. Yes, I am a dreamer. But unlike most of my dreams, this one was clear. My escape for the mistakes I have made is always my home. Not that I dream of murdering my sister or doing it and running to my house but for every mistake I make, I have a home where I can go to and I have people in it (with or without my sister ;) ) who are ready to help me out. Home is where I can be myself and still be accepted. My home is my escape.

Chota Sa Babu

My friends loved how everyone in my family was so close, how we celebrated literally everyone's birthday, and hung out so much. "You family is the coolest", "You have the best family in the world", "You family is awesome", "I simply LOVE your family" they would say. And everytime they did, I would light up with pride.

 Being the youngest in my family, I was always adored by my parents, grandparents and siblings. I was the 6th-born and the only male child. My eldest sister was 16 years older than me. To her, I was her brother but she always treated and loved me like her baby. She would play with me and do whatever i asked her todo and I have no memory of her ever yelling at me. My attachment to her never lessened. As time went by, she got married and left our house to live in USA. The first time she visited with her first baby, I was so jealous. I wanted the attention that she used to give me. During that visit, I missed her alot even though she was there, with me. I would spend time trying to get her attention. I would make up stories about myself just to make me seem more interesting to her. I wanted to be her baby like before.

 My other three sisters loved me just as much. They would help me out with my homework and tests. And as they grew older and got jobs, they would buy me almost everything I wanted and they would bake or make anything I asked them to. They would never let me down and always stood behind my back no matter how much I screwed up.

Youngest of the five was the sister I was closest to. She was two when I was in my mother's womb. And everyday, she would tickle my mother's tummy and ask her when the baby is going to come. As I grew up with her, we became good friends. We would scratch and hit and chase each other but when the other wasnt around, we would miss each other like hell.

Saudi Arab was the country where I was born. After living my first 3 years in Dahran, when I came to Karachi, I discovered that I had cousins too. The three of them were about the same age as me and my youngest sister. The five of us started spending time together and we became closer than ever. We would share our secrets and go crazy in public and we became best friends. We used to do everything together.
Next to my grandparent's house lived a famous squash player, Roshan Khan. This one day we found their phone number and we started making prank calls everyday. Until one day, someone from his house came to complain about us. Our parents scolded us so much.And we walked to our rooms sulkily to think about what he had done.

My birthdays were always amazing. They were planned days or even weeks before the actual day. All my relatives would come and I would get HUGE presents. I remember a birthday when I went to my mom and asked her what had she got me for my birthday. She said she hadnt got anything. She had, but everyone was to give their presents before I cut the cake and I would open them after I cut it. But I asked my mom to please give me the persent then and there. So she took out a big gift from her closet. I opened it and saw what it was. And then my mom carefully wrapped it up again. Now I would open it up again after I cut my birthday cake and no one would know. It was our little secret. My parents, although never accepted the fact, but would 'mostly' buy what my sisters wanted. With me, it was always.

I never got to see my paternal grandparents. They died before I was born. However, my maternal grandparents made sure that they loved me enough to make up for them too.They would look after me and love me like no one else could and what they said about me always mattered so much. I was proud of being one of my grandmother's favourites. And my grandfather didnt love me any less. One day, I remember, when I went to his house, he said "Oh boi, look at you, you are growing up to be more and more handsome everyday". I stood up on my toes and laughed with pride. They next day, I told all my friends that my Nana thought I was becoming handsome.

My aunts and uncle were amazing. I remember the day when my uncle told me that he would lock me up in a room if I didnt eat the chicken. I had never tasted chicken before that, but when I did (with his fear) I liked it and since then, chicken is what I survive on. And this one day my aunt made me eat mutton. It was also on my not-to-eat list. When I got to my mother, I cried and told her how she had tortured me with mutton. And although I didnt like mutton even after that, I cherish the memory they left me to smile on.

And now I realise why my friends were jealous. They envied the awesome people in my life.

I Am There If You Need Me

I had the same dream again.
I am running and running in a place with nothing but sand. I can see a wall with a gate. I am trying to reach it, get near the wall. But no matter how much I run, I never seem to reach the gate. I am tired of running and I am out of breath, but I have to keep on running to reach it, to touch it, to open it and go on the other side. I cant stop even when I want to. I dont know whats on the other side. I am just running towards it because its the only way out. People I know are there too. My family and my friends. But they all seem like a blur as I run past them. They are all smiling, weirdly. And they all shout as I pass by them, "I am here for you, if you need me". I dont know why am I the only one running and why it is that only I want to reach the gate.
And everytime it ends the same way.
Running towards it, I fall and the dream is over.

In my subconscious mind, it made sense. In my conscious mind, I didnt. Why was I running towards something that I had no idea about. Why was I running away from my own people and Why was I running towards the gate when everyone was there for me to help me out. What was I running from. Nothing made sense. But then, it did.

In the back of mind, I heard what someone had said to me on the phone : "If you want any help, you can text me or call me or email me anytime you want, and I will be there", I visualised the mail that another person had sent me : "You have people who are there to help you out, and I am one of them", I recalled a message on a live-chat that said "You know that Mustafa, right? that you can come to me if you need help" and I remembered how someone had defended me from the fingers, that people pointed at me.

And I realized what I was running from. I was running from them. I was hiding for the the things I had lost. And I was running because I couldn't walk with my chin up. But they didnt judge me or think any less of me for what I had lost. So I smiled at what a fool I was, because I could walk with my chin up in front of them. They loved me, I realizred, the people I loved, loved me too.

And the realization of being surrounded by such beautiful people, erupted a calm of hallelujah and thus silencing the chaos of my thoughts.

Sound Of the Waves

A wind blew on my face as I stared blankly into the darkness. The moon, hidden behind clouds, gave faint outlines of the things before me. I couldnt make out what the things were and I wasnt even trying to, I was just staring blankly.

The watch on my wrist said it was 1:46 AM. It was a hot summer night but somehow the wind had given me shivers. It wasnt because I was afraid. Or maybe it was, I couldnt think. In the quietness of night, I could hear the waves of the sea, a block away from my house. The sound soothed me and a strange feeling of comfort made a tear roll down my cheeks. I could think again. So I thought about the things people had done to me, things I had done to people, good memories, bad memories and so much more. They made me smile and cry. I thought and I thought as the time tick-tocked away.

The call of Azan made me realize how much time I had spent. It amused me how my legs werent aching with pain because of standing on the same place for hours. I wasnt tired at all but I walked to my room and lay on my bed. And I closed my eyes, smiled and went into a deep, calm, comfortable sleep.

I woke up, a little late, in the morning. But when I did, no more did I want to cry over my past like everyday before.
 Maybe I had moved on or maybe I just grew up. Or maybe I just learned to live life.

Sunshine

People come and go. Bad things happen. You get hurt and you cry and for the rest of your life you just regret what happened.
But regretting why you trusted someone or why you did something or what you could have done doesnt really help. They are things that you cannot change. So instead of living with them, take out the best memories and the lessons learnt from it and throw the rest away. Live your life for NOW. Life is beautiful and every moment that you spent crying over what could happen is a waste.
Ofcourse there are things that haunt you forever and make you feel scared. But instead of hiding from it, face your fears. And when its over, the sun will be shine over your head again :)

Roses On A Grave

Human psychology is funny. People come and go, and you love and miss them. They affect you and whenever you think about them, they unknowingly put a smile on your face.

But sometimes, people you don't even know affect you. I realised it today when I went to give my grandmother's grave a visit. And although I've never met her and all I know about her is through my parents, I've always had this weird devotion for her. I loved and missed a person I barely even knew.

So I realised that we start believe things that are told to us, instead of actually knowing or searching about it.

Its the same with religion. We are born as Muslims, we are taught things about our religion by our parents and then the school and we start to believe what they tell us, without actually reading the Quran. We have love and respect for our religion and we are protective about it. We get angry when someone says something about it or burn its scripture, but we don't really know what it is and whats it says and when someone asks us to give proof for our claims, all we can do is stare.

My love for my grandmother is just an example to explain how blindly we follow our religion. Because it's much more than black veils, long beards and jihad.

By this, I don't mean to say that I should stop caring and  loving my grandmother, what I mean is that I should get to know her instead of just "loving" her. And probably, what I do find out about her will make me love her even more:)

Jumping In The Rain

Rain makes me feel so happy. I dont know why, but it does.

So today when its rained, I went on my balcony and jumped.. Haha yes i jumped in the rain... I jumped and jumped and then I slipped.. But I couldnt just stop having fun because i hurt my bums.. so I got up and jumped again and I sang songs as loud as I could. Good songs, old songs, cheap songs, fun songs *meray samne wali khirki mein, aik chand ka tukra rehta hai* *Do dil mil rahay hain, mugar chupkay chupkay* *Ajeeb dastan hai yeeeeh, kahan shuru kahan khatam*
I didnt care about the people ,passing by my house, staring at me as if I were mad. I stuck out my tounge at them and jumped again.

So what I am trying to say is that you shouldnt just not have fun because "people" will think you are mad or a kid. Just stop caring about what they think and you can make every moment special and worth-living :)

A Silly Smile

"She loves me, she loves me not, she loves me, she loves me not".. Not? So I searched all over me for maybe another petal. A small white petal on my lap, made my count an odd for the third time. This meant she loves me. 

A smile crept over me, a strange, huge smile.. that probably made the stranger sitting next to me wonder if I was crazy. To him, that petal was just a petal. To me, I kind of meant the whole world. So I wisphered back in the air, "I love you too"

And I thought how funny it was that even small silly idiotic things could give you so much happiness.

Unsent Letters

Cleaning isnt really my thing, I mean seriously, whats the point of cleaning when it'll get messy anyway! But with my mom shouting at me for maybe the 50th time, I finally decided to clean my cupboard's drawer.

So I emptied the drawer on my bed and decided to put what I "really need" in the drawer. A lot of junk had find its place in my room for maybe years. So I started to sort things out.

The first thing that I found was a "slam book" which had been filled up by my cousins and friends ages ago. It had funny questions with even hilarious answers. So I decided to keep it for blackmailing all those people. It couldnt be included in my really-needed list, but still..

Next what I found was some CRAZY stuff ;things that I had kept to remember special memories from my college and school days. An empty juice and chips packet, some cards, masks, paper conversations and more really random stuff from when me and my friends got really hyper like leafs, burst baloon remains, grass, etc (Yes, that random). Each having an amazing memory for me to recall and so I smiled.

Alot of junk like empty paint tubes and dried up markers went into the trash can.

I had to keep my coin collection, from back when I was 10.

More and more trash.

A bit more.

Then I found a box with alot (ALOT) of pictures. So I decided to keep the best ones and put the rest, secretly, in my mom's picture drawer (Shhssss). With all the pictures gone, I found a small paper bag at the bottom of the box which had more pictures.. Some pictures were of my friends and the rest were of one friend. But these were different; they were printouts that I had printed to put into my diary. I found them useless now.. I wont be writing about these people in my diary anymore. So into the trash can they went.

Then there were loads of letters and cards that I had made for people.. to give them on special occasions and moments.. some of those moments had passed by and for some, I was still waiting. I couldnt decide what todo.. I would put them into drawer and then take it out, put them into the drawer and take them out again. But then I decided that it was stupid. Some of these times might never come and maybe I wont meet those people, so I decided to throw them. They all had so much to say and so many honest feelings so I didnt want to get rid of them. But then I found the courage, tore them all into pieces and threw them away too.

As I listened to Dana Glover singing "Thinking over" on my radio, I took a deep breath and smiled at what I had accomplised. For my mom, it was a junk, But she didnt know how much courage did I had to have to clean this one drawer...

"I am different"

(This has been written by my sister, Sahar Syed. I love it and I think its sooo true so I am posting it on my blog:D )

How proudly we declare ourselves to be different from others. But actually we are made up of all those, we differentiate ourselves from.


Emotions, behavior , attitudes do not shape us. We are made up of people. People who have loved us, people we have loved and people we hate. Those are all part of us. They leave their marks on us. A particular word or phrase used by someone, a small gesture, facial expressions like biting our lips while in deep thinking , winking in jolly moods or sitting with a special posture. We adopt it consciously and most of the time unconsciously. It becomes our part.

They all form us; people who make us strong; who inspire us, who let us down, who make us laugh, who break us and tear us apart. Yes, they all mold us and yet we think we are different from all these people?

How an attitude, a joke, place or even a word remind us of someone we might have once met.

People change us . They become our part and they make us different!

Honestly : NOT the "best" policy

Oh yeah, it isnt. I mean seriously, people tell me that I dont open up and give out opinions. But the reason I stay quiet is that I dont really want to tell whats actually on my mind and I dont want to hurt anyone with whats-on-my-mind. But then its like "why mustafa why? Why dont you tell me the truth".. So I am like FINE, I think this and that and this and that blah blah blah. And then the tears comes down.. so then I do the same thing to myself : "Why mustafa why? why do you have to tell the truth" *Bang my head*. But its not entirely me, I mean if you know you cant handle it, try keeping your curosity to yourself, and do me the favour by not asking me.

Ofcourse, sometimes you definitely should tell the truth even if it hurts..actually a few.. but anyway if you want to stay out of the drama and the extra trouble, DONT BE HONEST. Make something up, anything at all. (Often lame stuff work too)...So just make up a story, and stay happy forever and ever :D

Heroin

I think this is how it always is.. people come and go.. You make friends, you hang out, you enjoy every moment, you text, you joke and every moment is worth living but then time passes by.. and either of you have to leave.. so now you wont meet them but you'll ''stay in touch".. so then its long internet conversations, all day long texting, hour long phone calls.. and then gradually it comes down to 5 minutes conversation, 2 or sometimes 3 texts and short calls.. and as the clock goes tick tick tick, you stop wanting to talk to them... I think this is how it always has been.. atleast with me.

Except this one person..so many months since we last met, so many hours that have gone ding dong dong but still.. everytime i talk to that person, i want to talk more.. and every moment that i dont talk, feels like a waste.. so what is it with this person that the rest of my 'friends' dont.. and why is it that i am addicted to this person.. Love? I think not.. i think its just that you are my pack of heroin:)

living life

*Rrinnnnnnggggg* the alarm goes off.. like everyday.. and its 9 o'clock.. I wake up, have breakfast, texting, read the news paper, watch tv, texting, computer, texting.. and the day goes on.. so yeah its a normal life..but what i am missing is some fun and excitment... I dont just want to just 'survive' life.. i want to LIVE it..

i want to go bungee jumping.. Not very good with water but i want to go scuba diving too.. i want to learn to fly a plane and how to ride a horse.. Ohhh and i want to climb a mountain, yeah.. and i sort of  want someone to do this with me.. i want to hold someone's hand when i jump off a plane for skydiving.. and i want to scream at the top of my lungs in the sky.. and when we finally come down, i want to laugh crazily at what we just accomplised..

I dont care if i dont have a lot of money.. and i am not on the highest post in my office.. I would rather live wild and happy.. with someone to share it with :)

And I just hope i find that someone very soon! :)

What Is Love?

Sure, I like romantic movies.. not obsessed with them, but they make me sort of happy..but that "thing" which makes me happy, I haven't quite figured it out yet .. and although i secretly like imagining stories about it and writing it down, i simply cant work out what this thing is.. the thing that i am talking about obviously is "love"..  love, a four lettered word that makes the whole world go crazy.. and if a mere word can hold so much power, its got to be something.. i dont know what.. but something..
with so many rules its got me confused.. haha.. i dont even know if i am in it ..like being stuck in a jungle, i cant decide which way to go.. good friends, bestfriends, just-friends.. everyone is different.. things that i should say, things that i have said, things that people are expecting me to say.. they all seem  to be so important..wierd, yes wierd.. and then trying to get what these people actually want.. confusing, yes very confusing
so what i make out of all this -about love- is :
Wierd - check
Confusing - check
Crazy - check
But makes you happy anyway - double check

lalala :)