World's oldest Story!

She was a damsel in distress. He was the darling of the crowd. Period!

Fallacy!

      Sometimes you feel like you could really use a friend right at that moment. After all, that is what friends are for. Right? Or maybe not! People say while our bloodline is only a matter of fate, we are at least at a liberty to choose friends of our own liking. Well, if you have good friends then maybe this philosophy is for you. Otherwise, you are in for a rebellion. I can frequently be found quoting that life has no hard and fast rules, hence generalizing a philosophy may be attributed to a fallacy on our part, in fact in my humble opinion, a lack of creativity. We are so used to of believing what people have said or done in the past that raising an objection or a contradictory opinion on a primitive thought is considered to be an action as repulsive as violation of some invisible boundaries. The hollowness of this primitive philosophy of being the 'chief selector' of your most cheered allies lies in the very fact that no-one wishes to bring unto him an uninvited set of problems, and a gang of uncomplimentary chums can be, well quite a nuisance, to say the least. So, how many times will you continue to make 'bad' choices? Or lets just say 'inappropriate'? For how long will man continue to worship his own inadequate faculties before accepting the supremacy of nature? For how long will we continue fooling ourselves in thinking that we are the master of our own fate? Why, one of chief requirements of human psychology is the feeling of being powerful? We can still dig deep, achieve our dreams and most of all, be happy without feeding our hunger of power! 
       You can either fret for staying in power with the ticking of the clock for the rest of your life or just let the river run its course and surprise you (no guarantee for the surprises to be good or bad :D); there is always a choice!

To the Reality!

         We spend a lifetime in brooding over that perfect dress we couldn't buy, the perfect career we couldn't acquire or the perfect life that we couldn't live; yet never in the midst of this lamenting course do we ever realize how much blessed we are! Yeah, yeah, all that cliched stuff pertaining to some basic facts of life. Something on the lines of , if you have all your body parts functional, have adequate clothes on your body, enough food in your stomach and a roof over your head; you are one blessed individual. And if you don't suffer from a disease, you are even much more blessed.  Sounds familiar? Such assurances, at a time of crisis, seem to be mere desperate attempts of your well-wisher to cheer you up. These cliches, as a matter of fact, are outdated, stale and sold-out yet a reality! My intention in no way is to profess for a simple living because in all honesty, I myself am a backer of this fantasy-laden larger-than-life-style, yet time and again I have been reminded of the amateurishness of my outlandish fantasies for I have seen myriad of old feeble men battling against the cold winds or sweltering weather, on the signals of Lahore, in their pursuit to save their honor while carrying a bunch of things of everyday use to sell . It takes no degree-holder mathematician to hypothesize that even if they manage to sell all of their goods that very night, it would still not be enough to buy a decent meal for themselves and their families. The memory of many such old men, women and children is etched on my mind. And no I am no Hatham Tai nor even an ordinary philanthropist, hence everywhere I go, I am chaperoned by a heart that has given way to guilt and dissatisfied conscience on my own failings to become a better being. I am very ordinary in terms of my mental faculty; all that glitters may not be gold but all that glitters attract me. To adorn myself  from head to toe, I have enough! However, while spending on the poor, I am down-and-out myself! I wish to help those downtrodden beings who carry as much right to live as we do. What is worth of a degree and a social-status that is devoid of a guilt-less conscience? To the world, I confess of my materialistic side. I concede the fact that some of my afflictions in the past have merely been shallow in nature yet their impacts were deep enough. My afflictions had nothing to do with money or poverty yet today I find them to be as superficial as money. But to err is human and I am only in the learning phase. And corresponding to a mind that weaves bizarre, wild fantasies; there is a tender-heart that is receptive to the delicacy of reality, ready to foster a change!

Start Over New!

I've found out the motivation for me
To push against the walls and break free,
A reason to start over New
A reason to do that I always wanted to!

(A Play on Hoobastank's 'The Reason')

Somewhere I belong!

In the touch of soft breeze, in the charm of fluttering hair, in the brightness of slight but meaningful smile, in the pounding of harmonized heartbeat, in the calmness of soothing symphonies, in the moment of whispering words, in the pleasure of long walks, in the fluidity of fantasies, in the instant of spontaneous laughters, in the passion of intense human emotions, in the reliability of a trusted friend, in the lingering moments of mesmerizing silence, in the strength of faith, in the beautiful realization of being understood, in the running stream of words, in the materialization of dreams, in the fits of that 'high'-feeling, in the decency of sensibility, in the mischief of the funnier side, in the stillness of smiling pictures and in the anticipation of sweet serendipity ; THAT is where I have always lived and where I belong . Never did I belong to this world! And never will I give up on my pursuit of finding ‘that’ world, because that is where my strings are attached, where I’ll be an instant fit and where not half, but the whole of my heart will be in absolute harmony !  

A Mosaic of Thoughts!

         Reality never has a smooth landing; it always comes crashing into you. C-R-A-S-H! To your chagrin; you come clattering down and explode. Once the flames diffuse, your life becomes sheathed by a meaningless, blinding, thick black smoke which scraps, out of your system, even the last few specks of life which had sought refuge in your body and squashes every last joule of energy bubbling in the compartments of your heart. And the visions of each time it had happened before; flash before your eyes. The thing with these crashing chapters is that you   can never get immune to them, NEVER. No matter how much ‘strong’ life may seem to engineer you through its afflictions and suffering; the truth is, that soft organ buried underneath your chest, which keeps drumming to the symphonies of the sullen and sombre, will break each time you come crashing down. With each fresh wound, the pain will intensify. And even with all your money, you’ll be the feeble grieving old man out on the street on the eve of bone-chilling winter.  

 They say if you can accept rejection and reject acceptance, then there is nothing you cannot do. Given that I have had been at both ends, this really puts me in a good place. However, rules were never made for life. They are made for us, the remorseful victims of time and all that lies within, to keep us hooked under the false illusion that a series of regimented and ceremonial words has the smashing ability to sketch the portrait of THE life on the canvas of time that we all have been painting in our minds.

     Winning feels good, it makes you feel like flying even with no wings attached. It instigates you to fall in love, with yourself and with those around you because winning paints such a pretty picture of life that its ugliness silently slips and goes on to wait in a dark, quiet corner. And then you win and win and keep wining, until it becomes a habit. The thoughts that previously dangled between ‘Can I?’ or ‘Will ever I?’ then switch to more domineering ones, ‘How can I not?’ and ‘Why won’t I? It takes you farther from being natural, stealing your asset of humility. And then even wining loses its ability to charm you and you venture out in the pursuit of something new in life.

Failures don’t feel good, at least in the beginning. Then you make peace with them until the monsters of your ordinary-ness come back to haunt you. It is a kind of peace that is achieved after wars; settling with whatever that is left and in whatever condition it is.

          And this is how life continues!

Richly Blessed!

I read this somewhere and found it worth remembering and sharing. Here it is!

• I asked God for strength that I might achieve, I was made weak that I might learn to obey.
• I asked for health that I might do great things; I was given infirmity that I might do better things.
• I asked for riches that I might be happy; I was given poverty that I might be wise.
• I asked for power when I was young that I might have the praise of men; I was given weakness that I might feel the need for God.
• I asked for all things that I might enjoy life; I was given life that I might enjoy all things.
• Almost despite myself, my unspoken prayers were answered. I am, among all people, most richly blessed.