It frightens me to know a place so well, a place where I shouldn’t go


It frightens me…


Old Friend

I called her tonight. For long she’s the one I shared all my words with, those random outbursts in the wee hours of the night. I would just type it all out on my phone and just flood her with a series of text messages. I didn’t always get a or a reaction from her everytime, not right away atleast, but sharing that with her always did the trick you know. Its just about knowing that she’ll read it, she’ll understand, there would be gleam in her eyes and a smile on her face. Its about knowing that she’ll understand.

I called her tonight to realize how much I miss those random outbursts, how much I missed her, how things don’t rhyme much anymore. How I miss writing just for the sake of rhyming. Its not that bad though. I’ve lived a life now, I have her, I have him, I have Shams.

While I talked to her it felt like being on a temporary but stationary shore, a comfortable sanctuary, you know that warehouse that you own, that familiar store room that you own, that comfortable spot in your balcony, that rock on that favorite beach, the place that you don’t particularly appreciate as much as you should but you feel comfortable there, that spot that is pivotal in your life without even trying, you know the place that you don’t visit too often and yet it doesn’t mean its not important. She’s my place where I return when the burden is too heavy and I’m ready to let go. She won’t come invading and I would go to her when I’m ready. Its comfortable.

Thank you M; Thank you for being there, always!



This was heavy. The usual spot, the comfortable sofas, restless faces, smell of coffee, unrelated familiarity with the walls and then the two people.

The two people because of whome, I am what I am now. The two people, most important, most treasured, beloved.

There was her in all her beauty, care and pain. She sat there spilling her magic of words. There she sat, the person that showed me love, the person I love. She was there comforting him like no bridges were ever burnt between them. She was there for him, the person that hated her until few days back, yet she was there for him with all her care. Maybe that’s why I love her so much, maybe that’s why her beauty is beyond my words.

And then there was he, the person that changed my life, the person that made me see myself, the person I owe my words, conversations and maybe even her. There he was in an un- categorical nakedness, bothered, shaken, disconnected. She always told me that me being there for him wasn’t doing much good to him, being available for him is maybe just a constant reminder of what it couldn’t be. But more than him I think its my need to be there for him. Him and myself, we share a weird connection. I don’t even want to describe it. There is one though.

There they both sat in naked emotions, while I watched them in helplessness. There they sat, close to each other. I could feel them despite all the issues bring open to each other. I saw the two most beautiful, most important people sitting and written, there sat my story. I wished I can just be for them, both of them, all three of us.



If I ever was to describe my life in one word it would be dilemma, and it would still not make me a confused personality.


From the very time the grey matter at the top had started to spark I have had questions and I have had alternate equally convincing yet contradicting responses.


As the time went on and the grey matter kept progressing the dilemmas kept getting more complicated yet convincing. During the days and the nights there always were some moments where stones were shacking upstairs.


I even realized that it required not just reason or proof for anything to be convincing, I realized that in battles as such you are not rational, justice is not done on convictions but there is a biasness of emotions and passions playing a pivotal role.


The concept of faith have always been here as a real intriguing one for me.


I am of those blessed kids who were borned in a family with regular following of religion, I was Alhamdulillah born in a home where Namaz and Quran were the part of the daily life.


But still we didn’t have that strict following, we followed on the religion not just as a compulsion but it was just eating or breathing. Just something that was to be done for that’s what life was for us.


I have been blessed to have received education from both good schools and masjid adjacent madrasas. So I was lucky enough to see the both perspectives of the world. Which I just realize might be one of the reasons of the dilemmas, or maybe not.


From the very beginning my parents had provided me with a lot of reading materials, with the exposure to a lot of quality books and good teachers I was literally more close to books and other things then fellow kids, at least before high school.


So this all made me a fundamentalist and an intellectualist at the same time. I take pride on being both.


Anyways it was faith that I sleeked to talk about this note, with an elaborate background check discovered let’s proceed to the topic.


Being an intellectualist I was thought to question every thing I believe in, everything had a process and an originating source which again was supposed to be material.


The world was physical and anything that can not be felt or touched may not very well exist.


But the same concept when viewed from the other part of perception may even be called blasphemy.


To be honest both perspectives are naive and in a race to prove better let go of sense and walk in the shoes of extremism instead.


What does this word faith actually refers to; to me it is the one word that keeps me going because I believe.


Faith is not just one belief; it is a choice that you make everyday. A choice to look ahead and accept things or to look back regretting what is no more.


My religion asks not just of prayers but it asks for submission, a submission that no intellect can question and no fundamentalist can deny.


Submitting to the way and the will of Allah, a believer looks ahead with hope, he works harder and with more zeal. He has faith in fate and continues to be positive for he now is a part of a greater will.


I always believed that if we have faith in the ways of God, our world would be a much better place to be at. Yesterday when we were mourning over loss, today with faith we accept it as fate and move forward.


A person who has even a tiniest bit of faith kindled within may be a sinner but would never be suicidal.


But an intellectualist might still not see things the same but it is only he submits because when he does his intellect is enlightened to a higher level.


Be an intellectualist or a fundemenllest they all are the art of One God.


Hi There

Hi there reader, I don’t expect you to be here. Really. For starters I’m not a writer, more than writing and sharing my words maybe I’m here for rather self-reflection. Let’s see how it goes.

If by any chance you HAVE stumbled here, I’d like you to stay. You can expect to hear my story here. A story that still baffles me, rejoices me, amazes me and most of all overwhelms me.