For ages, I wondered why –
The spring doesn’t last
When in full bloom the flowers are,
Why does the time never pause
But then I wondered why –
You changed faster than the seasons;
We all move on someday, but,
I couldn’t fathom all the reasons
Tonight, I ask myself why –
I never played along with the Nature
When we are consumed by self-righteousness, we are somewhat blindfolded. Willingly blindfolded. We know the truth is out there, but we can’t seem to get hold of it, or don’t want to. We consider it our religious duty to construct our own version of the truth, or only believe in our side of the story. In other words, we simply love to mask the reality without ever realizing what we’re up to.
Get rid of that blindfold, old friend. Get rid of that bullshit.
Hey! I missed this place.
There’s something about writing that fills a void inside of me. Since I hardly get to express myself openly, this is the only place that has always been loyal to me as far as listening to my non-stop rants is in question. In good times and in bad, I can always depend on this trustworthy friend of mine (because WordPress has very good internet servers, I presume).
But there are times when you want your friend to speak back to you, understand you, and comfort you. This has not happened in a long time. It’s been a while since I truly felt I actually had a friend like that. The bad part is you can’t force someone to even listen to you, let alone talk. It is always their choice.
Some of us, when in teenage, try to get ahead of ourselves and get involved in things that we should be worrying about ten years later. Thankfully, I am well past that stage but the pain I gave myself still remains. The realization comes when you accept that none of what you ever dreamed of was realistically possible, but the pain that sticks around for an indefinite period is induced by the loss of a/some dear friend(s). I miss that friend, a lot, sometimes.
But for the extra stuff as mentioned in the opening sentence of this blogpost, you can always trust time as the best medicine. (Please, no transition-state affairs.) Trust me, it works better than food. It’s just very slow.
I’ll end it with a few words for the friend I lost…
I could say a thousand bad things about you like others do when people give up on them; perhaps it was the best decision to make. But I have and will always remember you as one of the best people I have known, no matter how little I have known you. You may not remember, but you taught me things that I will never forget. For that, I am eternally grateful to you. Have a great life ahead!
I’ve always found “3 in the morning” kind of statements very strange. If the sun has not risen yet, it’s not morning. It is like a ‘seeing is believing’ thing for me. Thank God I don’t apply that rule elsewhere.
Or do I?
For more than a year now, I’ve been trying to convince myself into believing that all red lights eventually turn into green. And even though I have seen this happen several times, this time it seems the queue was already miles’ length before I stopped here. I would travel back in time and try some other route but unfortunately, time travel has not been discovered yet and never will be. The light is so far away that it’s not within my sight, and there has been zero movement in any direction ever since I got here. It’s like being stuck on the road to Murree on the Independence Day.
I’ve utterly failed at convincing myself that there even is a light. I can’t reason with the heart, seeing is believing.
What is life when you don’t experiment with things at all? But experimenting with people’s emotions, now that’s something deplorable. Despite being reminded several times, both directly and indirectly, that the idea of ‘forever’ in teenage does not last long and ends up in hurting people, I felt I needed to find that out myself.
“Maybe,” I thought, “I am different.”
That teenage frenzy. I can handle complex situations. I can manage to keep my mind open at all times. I can handle a fast-running car. It’s okay, there’s plenty of time to do this. Yeah dad, don’t even worry about me. I’m your favourite son. I’ll live up to it, whatever you expect of me.
“115 km/h, whoa man! Slow down now,” I said to myself as I drove past the flyover on Thandi Sarak.
The car decelerated. The teenager didn’t. The bright young man who should have been doing what was expected of him – to stay in his right mind – perhaps did not realise that the expectation was still valid. It had not expired; it was never going to.
We often don’t pay attention to the things we say. Though trivial these things might appear to be, we don’t realize the impact they have on our surroundings, the tensions that they create in our society, and the mindsets they give birth to. Though clean our intentions may be, the listener doesn’t always interpret things exactly the way we see them.
A while ago, I finished praying Fajr. My sister pointed out that I was a bit (which was a few minutes only) ahead of schedule and that I had prayed according to Shia timings. I answered simply that they are Muslims too, and I think that was the most reasonable answer. The Azaan may be a bit different but it serves the same purpose. The method of praying may be different but it serves the same purpose. The interpretations of religion may be different but the Quran is exactly the same. We all fulfil the criteria to be called Muslims.
The other day, I was casually talking about how I wanted to marry an Irani girl. Dad said, “Well then she would be Shiite,” implying that she didn’t qualify to be called Muslim. I am a fairly conservative Muslim but hearing a person say (or imply) that Shias aren’t Muslims is as offensive to me as a westerner saying that Islam supports violence just because some maniac decided to blow up the Times Square.
When we create such mindsets and promote such beliefs, we only create more and more distance between us. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out why there’s no such thing as ‘Muslim Brotherhood’.