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Embarrassed on our way

Some days are just like that. You know those days when everywhere you turn something weird keeps happening? And I have this suspicion that any day which starts out weird is going to keep getting weirder. The worst part is you often lose something oh-so-important. Today in the morning I finally received this email I have been waiting for since the past I dont know how many days and here i am sitting comfortably about to read the email and my son clicks some button on my laptop and the email is permanently vanquished from the whole of my email account. No sign of it in the delete folder or spam or archive or anywhere else for that matter. Oh wait! The embarrassing part is yet to come! I have to email back to the person who took so long to reply anyway and give excuses just to get them to resend that email to me. Which is sooo embarrassing I could barely keep from hiding my face in my own dupatta. Here is a life lesson I learnt just today. Women with kids who are either too small or
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Again the blessing..

And when it finally rains on us The skies bright with light and flowing down torrents. We turn our faces towards those blues That are blue no longer but the grey of woe. And pray to that which is All. To grant us that which we don't deserve. And grant us all that we wish for us Grant us more. And grant us that which is Your wish Then grant us more. And supplicants though we might not be Yours Believe in You we do. And praiseworthy we might not be But that is who You are. So be with us when we know not we need. And be with us when we ask for help. And when the rain holds its fire, You stay with us like the shade without a shadow. And stay with us like all that You are.
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Belonging

With the wind in my hair, flowing through the chasm created by time between us, i think of you.  I think. Of when you would turn to me in sleep. I think of all those moments when our fingers touched, that gesture, unintentional and small but most unforgettable of moments.  I think. And remember that hug so tight when, held in ur arms, my world was, oh so small, but amazingly complete.  And i know that all i could want would be that time to return.  And all i want is to stand beside you with my head on your shoulder knowing that is where i belong. 
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Rain, rain, come again....

We are the nation that loves rain. Sometimes we question our own need to enjoy the rainy days because in some parts of the world people hate rain, but we are those who think of rain as lucky. We grow up with the belief that praying on a rainy day takes our prayers straight to Allah and brings us luck. We have rainy day foods and love indulging in them. Rain to Pakistanis means pakora party and jalebis with ice cream. Rain to us is the day we play cricket outside. We are probably the only nation that doesn't believe in keeping umbrellas for rainy days because "Hey!" we love rain. The question still remains, why is it that we love rain? It is after all pretty inconvenient. The traffic gets worse than normal. The roads are full of water. Drainage has never been a big concern of our government so we cant even blame them. Alas we still love rain and it is a carried forward love that we encourage our children to enjoy as well. The difference in Pakistanis and their feelings
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"What goes around comes around."

Why do we say ‘what goes around comes around’? Why do we question the workings of the world where our thinking alters to the extent that we are directing our energies towards the negative instead of the positive?  I don't mean questioning isn’t a good thing. It is not just good, it is essential. As human beings we can only progress, we can only move forward by questioning our own actions and deeds. When we question ourselves we look at what we are doing wrong. Only then do we develop the habit of learning from our own past.  The question though is why do we go around being angry at something someone did wrong to us and then just to console ourselves we say “I won’t do anything but well what goes around comes around. When you do something bad to someone it will come back on you.” It will or will not is a question of the future we cannot see, a time that might not even matter to us. Yes, hurt at that moment we are probably just venting out but do we even realize what ne
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Heart to Heart

Its like knives in your heart Its like you are breathing but not The world moves But you don’t You stand still in that one moment When it all crashed The infinite waves of sea, see you through the night But what of the day that remains behind? Alas, its a wish unfulfilled And solitude is its name Its not the happiness of alone Its the sorrow of loneliness That when you breathe deep Takes you to that interval That place where you were, but not That place where you were, but didn’t want to be Its a place of nothingness And solitude is its name.
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