Tag Archives: human condition

Strawberry Fields

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ImageAnd in that void, I swayed. To the beauty of the moment that embraced me. The breeze of silent whispers that softly hit my drums like a soft love song sung behind closed doors and thick walls. And as I closed my eyes, and breathed stronger till my nose converged within itself, I let my worries out through a whiff of air that escaped my mouth. And I was there..

I walked through the garden, sunlit green. Rose kissed trees smiling at me, reaching out for an embrace.

‘Can you walk here to me?’, I asked.

And they swayed their head in melancholy. How unfair life is, isn’t it? To build a desire you simply can not please? Their roots held them back, so I could see. Like most of you, and I, him and she. So I walked to her, so tall and pink and green. And as I melted into the bark of the tree, her twiggy arms encircled me. And as I let go, all dusty and pink, she gave me a strawberry which made me think..

I wonder how she knew I wanted one, so juicy and sweet?

As I treaded on the infinite stone path that didn’t seem to end, I held the strawberry in my hand. And pondered if I hadn’t walked to the tree, if my desire to have one would be in vain? That would’ve been a shame..

So I looked at the vultures that orbited me, and I gulped down the berry before they could see.

My berry, my berry, all mine” was all I could think..

And as the berry struggled through my pipe, and bounced inside me, my vision became clearer and I could finally see. Did the sun just become brighter, or is it just me? I thought to myself..

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The sun indeed was livelier, the veins of the flowers pursed like a lady’s lips to kiss her beloved, the grass became younger than I last remembered..

It was a breakthrough, that much I could see. Closed doors opened, visions got clearer, things started to unravel.. And did life suddenly make more sense that it ever did to me?

And as I stared at the gold butterfly that sat on my nose, and flapped its wings to synchronize with my lashes, the voices called out to me.

Wake up, wake up, have you fallen asleep?’.

I felt a tug on my arm, though I could not see. And I reached out to the branch of the tree, to save me. The pull became stronger, and as I let out a scream.. The butterfly turned to dust, the tree fell apart, the sun deceased. The darkness sucked me in through a straw I didn’t fit in to, but such is darkness, and such it has always been..


 

Inspiration:

 

Vertigo

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Come here.

Sit.

 

How did we get here? When we stopped looking for monsters underneath our beds, and started looking for them within and around?

Don’t make a sound. They’re listening.

 

Did you check for the ones hidden beneath the sheets of your bed? The ones that hold you close on a winter’s night, warm their bodies, until summer arrives? Did you hunt them down?

 

How did we get here? When dreams stretched longer than a night, and reality came a bit too soon..but still too late?

Open your eyes.

 

Do you want me to pinch you now, so you know what is true and that which is not? But didn’t you ask for that pinch when nothing seemed real? I believe you felt the pinch too late, my dear. Wait..

How did we get here?

 

Are you out of colors, yet again? The black, the blue, the green, the grey.

Prick your finger with a needle sharp, and paint your wall with blood so dark..

Wrap it with a chain and lock, not a door this time..

Remember the last knock?

 

Nothing is true, did I tell you not? Not the words spoken, or the purple rock.  God died in all the battles that were fought, the devil crawled out of him, I kid you not..

 

A sweet demise this shall be one, a revival, a reform? Or maybe none..

A cliff you’re standing on, yes, right there..

 

Wait..

How did we get here?

 


 

Inspiration:

 

Utopia

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Astronomica

 

Faith.

Ever had that feeling, when you’re lying on the hospital bed, and you just know who you want to see when you wake up; That one person who’d make it all better? Have you ever had that moment when you’re treading but you can’t stop yourself from turning around expecting to lay your eyes on something other than your shadow? Have you ever hoped to feel a warm embrace when you’re sitting alone crying?

 

Ever looked into someone’s eyes, wanting to see love? And have you ever led yourself to think that it’s there? Ever come across an episode when you see the knife, but you let your back turn anyway? And have you pretended like your loved one didn’t tear your spine with it? Ever been in a state when you can’t embrace the truth because it’s too harsh? And have you ever knowingly let go of the truth, and embraced the lies because they give you a reason to smile?

 

Ever lived in a time when humanity perished and greed prevailed? Have you ever been a part of the system, even though you hated it? Ever become the person you dreaded the most? Have you ever reaped your soul to have a little power? And have you ever sadistically liked being superior, while crushing your fellows beneath your feet?

 

Ever come across a point in time when you think you’re special to god? Have you ever had the faith to nullify the fact that he’d let you get hurt? Have you ever told yourself that it’s going to be okay, when you know it isn’t? Have you ever lied about how you’re grateful to god, when you really aren’t? Have you ever fashioned a facade, believing that god will give you the answer, when you can’t find it? And have you almost always known that that isn’t going to happen?

 

Faith is a funny thing. A state of intoxication, an eternal beauty where reason has drowned and lies have succumbed. A beautiful denial; A beautiful lie; A beautiful utopia. Faith is what all of us need. A reason to decline, a reason to believe in good when there isn’t any, a reason to smile when there is none. Faith, like utopia, is not wanting to know the truth because the lies are better.

 

 

To a Teacher’s quest, Nobody Protests!

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To a Teacher’s quest, Nobody Protests!

 

 

Teacher introduces and implements a ‘five percent of the total grade’ assignment for a course in Islamic Studies that is compulsory for everybody in class. The whole class has to offer prayers at the college mosque. There are people from various sects and religions in the course. Nobody protests.

Teacher states that the military is the only institution that can  lead economic development, in terms of GDP growth, in Pakistan. In her first lecture on Macro Economics, nobody even tries to counter argue, since the teacher has an amazing reputation in the economics department. Nobody protests.

Communication skills instructor details in a half an hour long diatribe that students must watch Zakir Naik if they want the real truth in life. teacher goes ballistic on sole student who tries to question the logic behind that revelation. Student humiliated, and ostracized. Class moves on to further lecture on piety. Nobody protests.

Teachers questions why the Shia’s can’t even dare to challenge the writ of the state by protesting against the mass killing sprees all over the country. In the backdrop of the Alamdar road incident where the families did not bury their dead for four days, A professor claims that the shias should listen to the majority as the majority rules in a democracy. And yet again, nobody dares to stand up, its all about securing your grade and remaining in the good books.

Teacher feels up girls in class and calls his methodology “a spiritual reawakening of the student population”. Later he lambastes a girl for wearing a hijab who giggles and takes it in her stride. Teacher is woken up by his female teaching assistant everyday and escorted to class by girls who have to do it out of duty. Nepotism reigns supreme. Nobody protests.

Teacher mails students six hours before a mid term exam that 80 per cent marks are a prerequisite for students being able to qualify for their thesis in the final semester. Like lambs, led to slaughter, students appear in the exam next day, nobody protests.

 

“I am not an Island!”

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It is a common phrase we hear, tucked in here and there to show that man is not self-dependent or independent, and in fact requires not only companionship but also strength in numbers in order to gain his sustenance.

If you come to think about it, even the natural order of things does not allow for me to be a complete loner. I was born as a sixth member of my family. Right when I was born I had two sets of grandparents, parents, fives uncles, an aunt, a dozen cousins and three (incredibly awesome) siblings.

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As we begin to grow up, we are institutionalized, by which I mean put into academic ones. From this point forth our life is just a race through one school to another, or to a college, and then to a university and then perhaps to another university. All these years you manage to gather another web of people you begin to depend upon. Whole categories worth of people; teachers, acquaintances, school friends, college friends, and university friends. If you are lucky, you get promoted to another institution after that which is called quite aptly; work. And there you have another set of people to forge through and pick as your own; boss, colleague, project manager, you name it.

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However, somewhere along the way we don’t just categorize the people according to how we know them, but also we begin to prioritize them. That uncle always gives me more Eidi on Eid so he’s the best. That school friend stole my eraser in kindergarten; she’s such a menace to society. That girl from university wear hideous clothes, does she not look at herself in the mirror before coming? I really don’t want to be seen with her.

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With this prioritization of the people in our life, we begin also to alienate the people in our life. Sometimes we do it to a single person out of some grudge we have or a bad past experience. But other times we do it as a group; someone who doesn’t fit our perception of a friend and hence cannot be included in our confidantes.

The truth is though that by prioritizing the people in our life, we begin to treat them like commodities. We label them; pervert, druggie, psycho, loser etc. And with these labels we begin to shed these labelled commodities from our lives, very much the same way we label our old clothes when cleaning out our closets as garbage, give away, hopelessly old etc and then continue to dump them.

What we need to realize is the difference between not being an island and reducing someone to an island. Where yes it is wise to have some level of prioritizing in the people you love and trust, there we must also be careful to not make someone feel excluded. So your group of friends does not like a person, it does not mean that you must dislike them as well. In fact, befriend them and show your friends what a great person that person really is; or at least try to be polite to them.

Reaching out to other people and accepting the fact that we are all not islands drifting in the sea is key to human existence. You are not alone if you are with the right persons and then you realize the sense in never letting anyone feel that way either.

And if you are among the few who have been made to feel lonely and commoditized, don’t be shy to say it aloud, “I’m not an island!”

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Epiphany

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“I still live, I still think: I still have to live, for I still have to think”
Friedrich Nietzsche

The Fractal House.

The Fractal House.

 

As I drown myself into the deep abyss of scrutiny, voices break my mind into a puzzle. This enigma, the mind, something hard to put back, speaks to me with perplexity. And as it does, it dismantles from the rest of me. But what is this rest that I speak of? Isn’t my mind me? Isn’t it what elucidates me? Or is it the heart that steals the strength I have, weakening me with every scarlet tear it sheds?What am I made of? Am I made of dreams? Of spirit? Or just bones? Is there something that dwells within me, which holds me together? Or is it just reality that holds me intact, telling me that I am existent. Can it be true that the world we live in, the steps we tread everyday don’t really exist? That the words I’m carving on the wrinkles of this paper are a dream? But a dream of what? And every time this thought assails my mind, I pinch myself to prove that I exist. But does the pain that screams within the wound that I gift myself justify my being?

 

As I narrow my eyes, fixated on the hand of the clock, ticking its way to it’s friends that await it, a notion tingles my mind. Is the hand of the clock forced to move away from one comrade to another? To say a goodbye so quickly for a speedy hello? Or is it that these friends aren’t really friends? The clock, like every being, is ordered by the norms of society to know another to make itself known in order to exist. But who orders us? Who sets these norms for us? Is it the dominant paradigm, or is it a spiritual entity? Who determines that the sun has to burn the earth knowing that some people may not conceal themselves? Who orders the dark to set, knowing that it might camouflage the beast within? Who decides the fact that the bee has to die after it stings its enemy? Who determines these gruesome specifics to a degree where they feel just fine?

 

In a world where every word is a prejudice, where man devours another, where the existence of truth is a lie; Is it wise to have faith in a being that hasn’t been acquainted to your iris? Or is it naïve to think that the pink veins of the flower gave birth to themselves without the help of a supreme individual? And I ask myself; Is man one of God’s blunder’s or is God one of man’s?
But as my hand scribbles its way to its last words, my mind still wandering in a maze of unattainable desires, I sigh as I watch the woman in the water staring back at me with more strength to breathe in the answers than I do

 

 

The Jungle Gym

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By Xenia Rasul

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Human vs Animal

It’s a big crowded playground, this world. You have to earn your way through to the top of the jungle gym, and how you earn it? It doesn’t matter. Funny thing this jungle gym. Like a labyrinth that swirls its way through acres of earth, not knowing where it starts, not knowing where it ends- if it does end. How victorious it might feel to get to the top? To step on toes, and pierce through backs, bite into flesh, and lose yourself?

It’s such a shame, this life. To be judged for a sin that’s different from anothers’. To be shunned for doing all the things that the one at the top did, only difference being you failed to climb to where they sit now. Funny how this works, isn’t it? To be hated for not spinning the knife enough, for not being malignant, vile and abhorrent enough.

But it’s not the Ha-Ha funny. It’s the funny that clowns feel at circuses. It’s the sort of funny that makes you want to paint your face into a smile, because you can’t smile otherwise.
It’s that funny.

Clowns. They’re funny too, aren’t they? To take pleasure in the happiness that they instill in the hearts of those that surround them. Paint their faces from one end to another to make you crack a Ha..And 10 tricks later..a Ha again. But what are you laughing at? What do you take pleasure in? The gloom of a clown? The feebleness of a caged animal, while you point your finger towards it? And what good does that make you?

Most of the times, life will play a game of cards with you. And more often than not, you’ll have nothing to play with, just the jokers. But that doesn’t mean that you’ve lost the game. The game is only lost when you give up, and there’s no such thing as giving up. Because though you might have a joker in your hand, but what will your foe do with his kings and queens and hearts and diamonds, when you have all the smiles and happiness, laughter?

So go on. Give up. If you take pride in the throne, and the top of the jungle gym, and the jewels of the crown that they wear.. But toss in your joker, and laugh at them if you believe otherwise. Because it’s a big fat fucking joke this life…

And at times you don’t have to take it as seriously as they do.

Injustices towards men of the 21st century

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Injustice

Injustice

By Ahmad Akmal

Everyone knows about the troubles women have faced. But the largely ignored & in my opinion, the more important aspect is the hardships and absolute cruelty men face today.

Women in Pakistan always receive special treatment no matter what. People are likely to move aside and make way for you when you’re walking through a crowded shopping mall but us men have to force and squeeze our way through the hoard. People will gladly give up their seat for a woman if there are none available but men will have to stand and endure. Say, your car breaks down in the middle of the road or you get a flat tyre. It won’t take long for a stranger to come to the rescue and help out the lady in distress. What about poor guys like me who don’t know how to change a flat tyre? No stranger was nice enough to help me out. (Thank God my dad came to get me or I was stranded for good)

Personal experiences of my friends are testimony to what I’m trying to say here. A friend of mine once bought a product from an online shopping company, which provided some false information by mistake. Disgruntled by the lack of professionalism, she decided to vent in an e-mail and really let them know how disappointed she was.  Miraculously, the company replied the very next day. After that, they called her not once, but twice, to apologize once more. But wait, that’s not the end of it. They even offered her a free discount on the next product she purchases from them. I would’ve loved to receive such special treatment but unfortunately, that’s not how things work here.  I mean, I’ve never been able to get the people in Subway making your sandwich to put in more than 5 olives, ever.  But, I’ve seen a girl say “Olives zyada daalna please” and the guy literally threw in a fistful. Heck, they even agreed to deliver for free to an area where they don’t normally deliver to. Just imagine the kind of double standards at play here.

One thing that I never really understood is about how women get so angry when guys look at them. Okay, I understand that in Pakistan the staring has been taken to a whole new level but still, when a guy “checks out” a girl it means that they look nice and are attractive. I mean, I would be absolutely flattered if random women on the street were ogling over me and turning their heads to get one more glimpse of the incredibly attractive man their eyes are feasting upon. Talk about an ego boost. Instead, women get disgusted and complain about how men are so desperate and always staring. I just don’t get it. Although, I would love to see how women would react if one day, they show off themselves, as usual, and no one even bothers acknowledging their existence. Now that would be interesting. Ungrateful, that’s what women are.

Us poor men crumble under the burden of expectations and stereotypes of what a “real man” is supposed to be. Not all of us are tall and muscular, have plenty of chest hair and coarse voices and have a thick, carpetlike beard. It’s not our fault our DNA made us this way! There’s only so much you have control over. The majority thinks men need to be rough and tough and should not cry. But obviously, it’s okay for women to let the waterworks run. I’ve seen guys been made fun of for wearing pink shirts. Fine, I agree it’s a rather feminine colour but let the poor guy wear whatever he likes! Some guys get their eyebrows made and wax their arms and chests. Instead of calling them metro-sexuals, just let them be! They just want to look nice and pretty, like the ladies do. But no, women won’t be called names for doing the same.

Life is very hard for some men out there. Women just like to steal the spotlight with a bunch of made-up problems. All of this might be a part of a grand scheme, who knows. These women are evil & manipulative creatures. One can only imagine the kind of horror and injustice us poor men face everyday around the world.

To all the oppressed men around the world, stay strong. You’re not alone.