Author Archives: saramrana

About saramrana

The writer is a proud Lahori, who is studying Political Science at LSE. She is interested in social and gender related development and is striving to pursue a philanthropic career in the future. She hopes to be able to travel the world someday and see all the beauty there is to see.

News Package: Slum Life in Winters

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This is our News Package project for Online Journalism Course. Slum life for these nomads is even more difficult for in the harsh winters than usual. Already fighting with lack of food and provisions, winters wages an added battle with the cold. We entered into their world and to take a glimpse into their life.

Production Team:
Kashmala Amin Khan

Rabia Khawar

Fatima Ebadat

Sara Mahmood 

Asiya Shoaib

 

The Other Side of Lahore

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A pictorial assignment on various street vendors in Lahore.

Quite often, amidst our menial worries and small problems, we tend to forget that there are people in the world who have bigger problems than us. While our problems concentrate around finding the perfect outfit for a birthday party or getting an A grade, there exist those who don’t even know whether they’ll have food on the table the next day. These people have a whole family to support on a measly income that ranges from 3,000 to 5,000 a month.

This post is dedicated to the street vendors in Lahore and all over Pakistan, who work tirelessly to give us delicious street food and some wonderful products that we wouldn’t be able to spend a day without.

 

And She Knew No More

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Right to Ricochet

By Fatima Ebadat Khan

“Get up! You worthless woman! Get up now!” the drunken shouts of Tehmina’s husband mingled with her terrified, blood curling screams of last night echoed in her ears.
As her eyes snapped open, it took her a minute or two to take in her surroundings. She found herself lying on the cold marble floor, wearing what remained of her already tattered clothes, which were now in shreds.
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Tehmina tried to lift herself up but regretted this almost immediately as this slight movement made every nerve in her body twist and agonizing pain rippled through her body. Screams escaped her lips as she mustered the strength to lift herself from the floor. At once she collapsed onto the hard sofa. Tehmina peered at the blackish – blue bruises that her husband had inflicted upon her in his last night’s fit of rage. Carefully avoiding her face and…

View original post 450 more words

Attack of the Tyrannosaurus in the 21st Century

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Right to Ricochet

One of my biggest obsessions is the T-Rex. T-Rex tees, bottles, puppets, you name it I got it! It all started obviously with Jurassic Park, which is one of my most favourite movies ever. I saw that movie as a child when it first released in Pakistan a couple of years after its original release, even though I was only a few years old then. One of my fondest childhood memories was seeing the Jurassic Park poster plastered over all over the wall of a local cinema and watching cinema and watching all the three movies with my family whenever they made their way to Pakistan’s  movie theaters.  Image The coolest thing about the Tyrannosaurus is that besides being severely handicapped by its tiny arms it’s one of the greatest movie monsters ever. From the moment that you hear the slight thump and the rings in the glass of water you…

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The Ugly Duckling

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Right to Ricochet

So, this article is all about me and the way I look. That sounds narcissistic, but its really not. Just read a bit more and you’ll know exactly what I’m talking about. 

Appearances matter. Whoever says they don’t probably hasn’t set their eyes on the likes of Scarlet Johanson, Leonardo DiCaprio and Gerard Butler *drools*.  So when we’re talking about appearances, have you ever experienced the feeling of looking back at your old pictures and going, ‘Good God, what was I thinking?’.

I’ve experienced that countless times. Whether it was the bucket-load of foundation on my saari party that made me look like an Indian geisha, or the unevenly applied purple lipstick that stuck to my teeth in odd places or a uni-brow; I have managed to look particularly ugly and hideous on numerous occasions.

This post is dedicated to all the masculine and embarrassing stages of my life. And…

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The Sparrow Sings

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Right to Ricochet

A poem about the social evils and crimes against humanity, committed not only in Pakistan,  but in other developing nations with male dominated societies. The metaphor of the sparrow has been incorporated to indicate how the world rarely notices how brutal and painful these crimes really are.

Far away,
A place where no one dares to travel,
Somewhere along the empty trail,
A young girl loses her innocence,
She wails and screams ,
While the sparrow sings.

sexual-assault-symbol_0

In the neighborhood,
In a place called home,
A tattered and broken abode,
A wife, a mother, lies on the floor,
Abused and marred,
And the sparrow sings.

In a field,
A barren and hollow piece,
A man sets his blood on fire,
Simply because she chose to,
Fulfill her desires,
Still the sparrow sings.

Round the corner,
In a desolate village,
The epitome of purity and innocence,
A female infant,

View original post 55 more words

The Ugly Duckling

Standard

So, this article is all about me and the way I look. That sounds narcissistic, but its really not. Just read a bit more and you’ll know exactly what I’m talking about. 

 

 

Appearances matter. Whoever says they don’t probably hasn’t set their eyes on the likes of Scarlet Johanson, Leonardo DiCaprio and Gerard Butler *drools*.  So when we’re talking about appearances, have you ever experienced the feeling of looking back at your old pictures and going, ‘Good God, what was I thinking?’.

I’ve experienced that countless times. Whether it was the bucket-load of foundation on my saari party that made me look like an Indian geisha, or the unevenly applied purple lipstick that stuck to my teeth in odd places or a uni-brow; I have managed to look particularly ugly and hideous on numerous occasions.

This post is dedicated to all the masculine and embarrassing stages of my life. And what better way to flaunt my huge ass ears and thick upper lip growth, than through a series of passport photographs!

Actually, this one isn't that bad. Or maybe its too boy-ish for a girl.

Actually, this one isn’t that bad. Or maybe its too boy-ish for a girl.

If someone looked at this picture, and didn’t know a girl was staring back at them, they would probably think its a boy. Boy or not, this phase is actually an adorable one.

 

Words can't begin to describe everything that is horribly wrong here.

Words can’t begin to describe everything that is horribly wrong here.

The thick growth on the upper lips isn’t quite as obvious as it was in reality I’m sure. I was quite the hairy child. Developed a thick uni-brow in quite a few years after this picture was taken. Don’t even want to comment on the funky shirt and the lopsided bob cut.

 

Looking quite happy, for someone so...ugly.

Looking quite happy, for someone so…ugly.

The oily hair and the tired face says it all. This horrendous picture was taken on my way back to school with my mayl laden face and ganday baal. The difference between the sizes of the ear is something that gives me quite the laugh after all these years.

phase-4

The eyes say a thousand words, perhaps?

Well, this probably wasn’t a good day. I look super pissed. After seeing the recurring unevenly sized ears and the death stare, I not sure whether I want to laugh or cry. :p

 

phase-6

‘The I’m so emo I will slit my wrists’ phase.

Back in the day, most girls were mistaken that loading up the kajal would give them an instant makeover. I was no different. From the long black hair to the entirely black and grey get up, I took the emo dress up shit seriously. The smile, however, just doesn’t go. :/

 

One can come to a single conclusion, after looking at the past through the passport photographs:

The Ugly Duckling has now become a Beautiful Swan.

Refer to the picture below.

current-phase

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So much for not being narcissistic….

The Sparrow Sings

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A poem about the social evils and crimes against humanity, committed not only in Pakistan,  but in other developing nations with male dominated societies. The metaphor of the sparrow has been incorporated to indicate how the world rarely notices how brutal and painful these crimes really are.

Far away,
A place where no one dares to travel,
Somewhere along the empty trail,
A young girl loses her innocence,
She wails and screams,
While the sparrow sings.

sexual-assault-symbol_0

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the neighborhood,
In a place called home,
A tattered and broken abode,
A wife, a mother, lies on the floor,
Abused and marred,
And the sparrow sings.

In a field,
A barren and hollow piece,
A man sets his blood on fire,
Simply because she chose to,
Fulfill her desires,
Still the sparrow sings.

Round the corner,
In a desolate village,
The epitome of purity and innocence,
A female infant,
Meets her demise,
But the sparrow sings.

In front of me,
The people I know,
Disrespect and shoot down,
The ones who gave them life,
Yet the sparrow sings.

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Thousands cry,
While millions die,
Torment knows no bounds,
As everyone watches the world burn,
Havoc, unrest and anarchy,
Then why does the sparrow sing?