On Mothers.

The amount of sheer love most mothers hold for their kids is so much that it scares me how someone can be so selfless. It's so palpable in every wrinkle that our dress sometimes withholds because we pressed it for ourselves and we know if it was for her, she would never have allowed it to stay on. The food she makes while preparing roti on the side has taste of her hurried concern that her children don't have to bear another hunger pang. The acceptance in her disapproving sighs and the love hidden in desperate plea for not picking up her incessant calls tell tales of her protectiveness.The redness of her eyes and pain of her feet every night bear witness to irreplaceable capacity to work every minute for sake of her children. When I see most mothers around me, their life is all about their children.

I belong to a generation who thinks it might not be a good idea devoting our whole-selves to nurture the next generation (doesn't mean I consider it wrong. Self-love is important) and I think it's partly because we are extremely afraid of the idea and example of selflessness set by generation of own mothers. Of course, fathers have their own set of struggles but the kind of love mothers have doesn't seem to be something that belong to this harsh, stony cold world. It's terrifyingly beautiful.

The Last Mughal

Two months in and I was finally able to come out of depressing and miserable existential crisis that final prof left on me as an aftermath. The book that helped me come out of my worse readers block was not this, it was "Eat, Pray, Love" (yes, the famous healing memoir) but I have yet to complete it and once I was in form, I hurriedly switched to a book I had aspired to read for a long time. It's about last Mughal emperor and his dynasty crumbling to the grounds after war of 1857 that left Delhi in ruins and utter chaos. The amazing thing about this book is its readability. Its 10/10.
Anyone who has read history books would agree that history books have a tendency to become boring very quickly. I've read excellent historians who are terrible writers but William Darlymple knows how to write a gripping story. He practically builds Delhi in your imagination and then set it on fire the way rebels and British did back in 1857. He vividly narrates smallest details of mutiny, war and its chaos. So vividly that often you forget you are reading history, not an imaginative fiction. This aspect stirred the skeptic inside me and made me doubt its accuracy at some points but when it comes to history, you can seldom find absolute truth.
The second most amazing thing about this book is writer's empathetic yet unbiased tone. William makes an effort not to offend readers from subcontinent, in fact he gives them lots of things to relate to. From Ghalib's love of mangoes to mushairaas held in Red fort until late night, a reader from sub continent does not take it as a commentary by a foreigner but a friend narrating those experiences. This is probably because the book's sources were heavily taken from Indian national archives and was emphatically written from an Indian perspective.
Last and my favorite point, writer stays empathetic but doesn't flinch while delivering facts. He didn't flinch while talking about christian missionaries and their insensitive and sometimes relentless effort to convert Muslims and Hindus to Christianity. Nor he hesitated to point out the fact that after Muslims and Hindus rebelled against East India company together (as a consequence of British attacking their religious sensitivities) imam of Jamia Masjid Delhi issued a fatwa about extending same jihad against Hindus which lead to utter chaos along with so many other factors that contributed towards this rebellion becoming a failure.
In short, its a must read for a beginner interested in Mughal history.

On october and its weather

Book: The ministry of utmost happiness 

October is one the most beautiful times around the world. The weather is gorgeous, neither too hot nor too cold. This shift in the mood of weather is palpable in plants which like a loyal lover obey this change and alter their colors too. They let go of old grieves and prepare to welcome snow. Winds add a tinge of dopamine to this love affair and take away pale aged leaves. In short, its fall and everyone is out, uplifted and happy. However, there are some people who are actually falling this time of the year, as quietly as those poor leaves and they are not even part of a love story. They are medical students. For them, October is all about staying indoor surrounded by their books and drowning in a sea of anxiety. For past five years, I happen to be a part of this marginalized community and I can empathize with those abandoned leaves. However, five years of practice teach you some detoxing tricks. I’m sure everyone has his own therapies developed over the years to add a bit of dopamine to this time. I have developed a love-hate relationship with this part of my year because although my social life ceases to exist, my sleep cycle gets a mid-life crisis and I whine like no end, there are things that I enjoy doing. Oh, those silver linings!

1) These days make me eat more and better. Being an underweight person, I have a very dysfunctional relationship with food. My satiety threshold can be compared to an ant's and my motivation to make myself something to eat is even lesser than a panda's motivation to procreate. But these days help me push limits effortlessly because first, cooking serves as a nice escape from the study and second, it’s an amazing therapy. A nice meal is a powerful mood lighter for me. Since I'm mostly too broke to have a personal stash of chocolates; it’s a cheap and convenient way to find some happiness in my otherwise miserable state of life!

2) It helps me plan my life. As silly as it sounds the hours I spend daydreaming during exam preps are incredibly productive in a long run. I plan my career, travel destinations, ways to save money for future endeavors (money that will come after I pass those exams though), bucket list I'm going to follow, before 30 goals, blah blah; the list is endlessly unrealistic! Don’t think It’s all happy and nice. These thoughts soon get darker and fill my head with the sadness of closures I never had, the guilts I couldn’t let go and embarrassments I had to endure in past life. This is where I go back to point no. 1 and make myself a sandwich! Anyway, although they are daydreams, they help me narrow down a few realistic goals that I put down in my notepad and follow afterward.

3) They make me write more because somehow, these are most creative days. It has something to do with the alertness of brain or perhaps the introvert-ness that comes with these days. In any case, I sit down to think and ideas come rushing! Even right now, all I sat down to write was a caption for a photograph of breakfast that I made myself (and It wasn’t even a very nice picture) but I've written a huge essay effortlessly. I love it though so, I realize my real passion is writing now. So, reality checks, way to go!

4) They increase my productivity in every way. Although I sleep A LOT to cope up with the stress and also generally I'm a sleepy person (Another way I believe I can compete with pandas) these days are comparatively more productive even in a non-study sense. The main reason is the realization of time I spend on social media. Every minute I spend on social media gives me a guilt trip so, I try to do something productive in that time. When I don't feel like studying (which is a lot, to be honest), I read a book or watch something fun. So, that consistent useless scrolling of Facebook and Instagram is replaced by new things I discover!

5) These days tend to give a significant level of self-awareness. You observe how your body reacts to stress and how your mind deals with various situations. These self-realizations, disappointing most of the times though, help you trace your future strategies and life choices. Because let's not kid ourselves, life is going to get harder and blind optimism serves no good in long run. These days bring us closer to reality and help us take a more pragmatic approach. Since this is my last year, I have gotten a fair idea about the career path that will suit me in life which is a major decision in most of the doctors’ lives. See, it's not all terrible!

So, somehow if I don’t fall in love with October due to its weather, I love it for a strange kind of discipline it brings in my life. I experience it in peace and silence of final hours of the night that most people miss out. This is the part where you might be expecting me to say I will miss these days next year. Well, the truth is that I won’t! Because no matter how amazing a love-hate relationship sounds, It’s always a good riddance when it ends!

On misplaced egos and broken friendships.

I have met very few people in my life with tandency to stay objective in a situation that had transpired because of their own flaws. Most of the times, we resort to blame game and choose to see perspective that validates our beliefs about our inner goodness or at least the will to be good intentioned. Then our brain looks for little things that could validate our version of story. It seeks out anything that could fill in spaces. It filters anything that could corroborate our narrative while subtly ignoring the opposite account.  People choose to be biased or emotional because its hardwired and doesn't take any effort that is usually involved in being objective or in accepting that they could be wrong. Perhaps it's easy to live with sense of being a victim of someone else's actions than to be perpetrator following his inner darkness. In fact, it's a defense mechanism we use to alleviate guilt that could splurge every now and then, and make us miserable. Its how we sleep at night satisfied that whatever damage had happened, wasn't our doing. It was because of other people, circumstances, life phases, age issues or anything that could fill the puzzle for us. Anything that could dim the red light of responsibility. It's true these thing have their own roles to play but a lot of times mistakes of individuals cannot be hidden under these tags. When we say to err is human, at the same time we need to accept that to realize is human too. In fact, realization is the first step to wash away mistakes without even leaving scars.  Realization is important because only those who have guts to even consider for once that they might be on flaw and reflect on their own wrong doings can grow in life. Those who choose to sideline their subjectivity,  negate their ego and see everything through window of different perspectives can become persons who are better than what they were yesterday.  If that could happen more frquently, there would be lesser ruined relationships, broken friendships and dysfunctional families.

On passing time.

As you grow up, the crowd around you shrinks. That care, love, and support you have been cherishing since your birth starts reducing slowly because the givers are not there anymore. Some die, some leave, some get too busy, some find other distractions but your inner child stays in denial for a long time, clinging on things too hard that the grip hurts your palms and blood oozes out. You hold so tight that it digs in your skin and leaves deep scars.  Every goodbye, every heartbreak inflicts a mark on your heart, like a diamond cutting through glass. You cry on some, scream on others and sob silently on most of them because you're forced to come out of your warm, comfortable cacoon and face the cold winds of emptiness. That's why adult life is so challenging psychologically. Oblivious to the cruelty of time, you get attached to faces popping up in that comfortable maze around you and get blown away when they fade or disappear soon. Time makes it happen, it makes people grow out of your maze and fly somewhere else. The circle goes on until every wrinkle on your body has a story to tell. A story of pain, a story of parting, a tale of laughing and forgetting, a tale of crying and loving again. Yes, loving again, growing fond of those bleeding wounds and chasing butterflies again because time may be cruel, it may take dear things from you, but it gives too. It leaves a beautiful souvenir of healing. That's why wrinkles are said to be full of wisdom because they have endurance hidden in them gifted by time.

Bliss of Solitude..

The best thing you can do to yourself is getting comfortable with your lonliness. Embracing it not as a liability but as a blessing, with open heart, because desire for companionship is like being tied to numerous invisible ropes, with their other ends attached to beings surrounding you. An insidious tug makes you fall at your face, bleeding from places it hurts the most. One little jerk in attempt to gain freedom can spread to the other side and come back to clench your own heart. But once you learn to be comfortable with being truly alone, you get rid of the repressed anger, broken expectations and insatiable need to depend on a friend, mentor, lover or anyone, everyone. You convert it into this magical, delightful bliss called solitude. It's not about building walls around you, protecting yourself or hiding from people. Its about eliminating the need for building walls altogether and coming out in the open fortress of love for your own soul. Because, once you roam that field of happiness, you truly achieve validation of existance and begin to look beyond it, persuing universe in all its glory, with steps that are unshakable and gait that reflects grace embedded in fierceness and strength.

Killing healthy dialogues!

What's with this opinion-shaming?  I've often seen people making fun of and mocking those who are vocal about their opinions for being "wanna-be experts" on the subject at hand. The trend of being vocal has upraised due to availability of social media. So, if there's any terrorist attack and public at social media discusses its causes- it's an attempt to become scholars on religion. If there's a shooting and people participate in discussing gun laws-it's an attempt to become political analyst. We saw it with wife beating fiasco and Hamza Ali Abbasi incident. The most recent is Brexit (UK exists EU, Big news!). Masses are merely expressing their respective views but there's a group who doesn't participate in anything productive. Instead it retorts to mocking others who consider it important enough to discuss. I can quote plenty of examples but I think it would suffice saying that some ignorant and lazy individuals with a notion of high intellect just sit behind their keyboards and judge others for raising a voice and think that they are making a difference. Like their own selfies, emotional rants and travel logs are only crucial things that world needs to know about. You say writing long Facebook posts won't help anyone? Let me teach you a thing or two about how power of masses works. Raising a voice is initiation of process that stirs a change and having a productive discussion is first step of staircase of betterment. But how will we ever know that? We are Pakistanis, remember?

It's a curse of totalitarian society where raising a question becomes an anomaly. People reach a level of self-loathing where Stockholm syndrome kicks in and everything looks like a rainbow. When flux of information is controlled by a certain fraction, ignorance seems like a strength. Does it ring a bell? You got it right! George Orwell's 1984 is still relevant.
Our society is immature and intolerant to its core because of same lack of dialogue. If you don't make it comfortable for people to say their hearts out, how will you learn being tolerant to others views? But we are not ready to learn this lesson yet. For now, we find it entertaining to humiliate people who try to indulge in dialogue by calling them attention-seekers and laughing at their desperateness to look cool. Anyone who dares broadcasting an opinion or holding a discussion is seen as an outcast striving to jump on a bandwagon. People call him madman! Maybe being sane in insane times is itself an insanity! But mark my words, this mockery is nothing but satisfaction of your fragile egos. It's just another way to validate your ignorance or lack of willingness to say something that world deems important. Anything that happens in the world can be discussed, should be discussed and there is no shame in it. Only shame is doing nothing and airing a sense of superiority in ignorance! 

About time!

My eyes closed, my body awake

I felt softness touching me somewhere

Something running down my spine

Sweetness making its way into my body

Pleasure seeping into my mouth 

My breathe trapped through my lungs

Something thumping against my chest

In a brief moment of vivid consciousness 

I recognised the taste of your lips

My mind numbed with rhythm of your breathe

And body smiling with touch of your hand 

Soul cherishing your ethereal lips

And my hands caressing silk of your hair 

We housed heaven in our little world

And wrote our story in the book of memories

With the pen of our lips and hands and bodies

Intertwined with each other, singing songs of desire

Melodies of love enwrapped us in that moment

We found each other and lost ourselves 

Body stories

The bed sheet felt comfortable against her bare skin. She tightened the blanket against her torso to keep herself warm. It was a particular December evening outside. Forlorn, dark and cold, her favorite kind of weather. Her side table still had a pack of cigarettes and an ash tray. The ash tray bore witness to her companion who had now left but his half burned cigarette was still there. She made a mental note of getting rid of it but not just yet. Not so soon. First, she wanted to see these trophies of her rebellion for a little while longer. She partly thought it was an attempt to make herself believe that she had finally done it. She closed her eyes and thoughts came rushing. She remembered how she was tired of demons that lived inside her. The demons in the form of guilt, fear, insecurity and conditioning haunted her as long as she could remember. She used to think she was free, she had a choice and she was making it happily and willingly but no matter how much she repeated this mantra in her mind that her body belonged to herself, it was empty noise. It wasn't hers. Its pieces had their stings attached to someone's honor right from her birth to her death. It belonged to men in her life. Her brother, her father and when she finally gets handed over to her husband, it would be his to protect.  She was supposed to embrace it, swallow her pride and wrap her mind around it because that's what good girls do, that's what chastity demands.

Her desires were slowly choked and strangled in a tender age by women surrounding her. Right there, at time when her innocent mind couldn't register that little spark inside her, down there. She was taught to hate it, kill that itch or it would taint her honor. Their words, subtle and tightly woven, gnawed on her natural instincts, piercing them, shredding them into pieces until she became oblivious to their existence. She forgot her recognition. They never died but she starved them to a point that made her believe they don't exist anymore. They became faceless. Time and again, there came men who fed them just a little to make them purr again like a baby who wanted to grow. They wanted a share but she was taught to protect it for someone she didn't even know. So, she never let that happen. She never allowed them to swell because she believed if she lets them swell, they will eat her tortured soul. Twenty one years she did her duty diligently, fending off men politely and restraining herself forcefully. Those demons were hooked to her body, sucking her liberty, snatching  her right to blossom under someone's love. She was scared and tired of living a double life, running between her tortured pieces of body to a free soul. It was costing her sanity. But then, she met a man who taught her to gently probe her tattered soul and uncover her power. She learned to accept herself a little. She managed to believe that she had a right on her own flesh even if no one was ready to give it to her. She had to choose a side and the one she had been towards for the past twenty years gave her nothing and cost her liberty. So, she decided to rebel. She had finally done it. She stripped her demons layer by layer with every touch of him. It was like she sucked them out of her soul with every kiss. She was light as a feather. The sin tasted like heaven. That ash tray with burning ash and her bare shoulders still feeling his touch were witness to this treason. She bought her liberty at a risk of her life. It was tragic but life is unfair especially to women who seek liberty. It was a heavy cost to pay but what is the point of  living anyway without freedom? So, she smiled while lightening the last cigarette and and saw her demons puffing away in its smoke. Through the smoke she looked at the door he left partly opened behind him and decided to open it more often for him.

To the boy who roams in my dreams

Oh dear boy who roams in my dreams

Never you worry about my admirers 

They are no more than strangers in a crowd 

Faceless men 

Awed by my smug face, bold words and composed silhouette  

Oh sweetheart, they only see my shadow 

Upright and spotless

Not my wounds but the glittery scabs

Not my tattered soul but embellished patches holding it together 

Not my scars but the light coming from them

So, my dear beloved 

When you see them displaying their awe

Treating me like I've grabbed their hearts

Don't you compare yourself with them 

Not for even a slightest of a moment 

Because my soul longs for you only

My breaths escape my lips only to leap towards your ears

And my heart has your name etched on it 

Oh my dear beloved

I'm yours 

And they are just faceless men

Moving beside me in a crowd

Oblivious to chaos inside me..

Love has it all? Think again.

One of my friends recently got engaged and he chose his fiance by himself. We got into a converstaion about this romantic setting and he shared a thought that love is overrated and compatibility and friendship are actually glueing factors in a marriage. That got me thinking on the subject and here's my two cents.

The prevailing model of marriage endorsed by our society, where parents set you up with a stranger (unless it's a cousin marriage), has been complied by majority (for the sake of it or because they have no other option) but it wreaks havoc on many. The element of uncertainty and risk is too great to accept for some. For that rare fraction, it seems like sometimes there is no way out, except damned celibacy because conforming to ideas and ideologies of a person who gets an instant ticket, out of nowhere, for controlling your life is upsetting at so many levels. Patriarchy gives considerable edge to male members of the society but it would be unfair to say they don't face this dilemma at all. Resultantly, many think love marriage can solve such problems because being head over heals in love with someone before getting into bondage of marriage makes it easier. While it's true that knowing a person long before marriage gives you a fair idea about what are you opting for, does love marriage has it all? Although it doesn't have fear of unknown, it is a marriage after all and there are some practical grounds where marriage differs from a love affair. To make the idea clearer, the point I'm trying to make is that love marriage doesn't have it all for us either and marriage is difficult, no matter arranged by your family or chosen by yourself. 

Besides complications of marriage, I've plenty of other reasons to doubt success of love marriage. Lack of compatibility for one. Now, one can argue how a love marriage can overlook factor of compatibility? But here it does and this is why:

First, Pakistan has a ridiculous dating system. Individuals are rarely open about their partners and most of them never get to sleep or even meet with each other much. This seldom helps individuals in making mature decisions because most of the times they have no idea of what they want or what options do they have. They stick to what they liked and found with some effort and try to make a marriage out of it. Same like Rahul did in "Kuch Kuch hota hai". 

Second, Our idea of love has been completely sabotaged by unrealistic romance as it's wholly based on that "kuch kuch" you feel (you'll find a lot of kuch kuch hota hai referances in the post because I've watched this bollywood romance for a million times). It's not surprising, considering the concept of love promoted by our media and literature but this dramatic approach leads to failure of love marriages. For instances, romance doesn't mean losing the sense of individuality but not many couples here subscribe to this belief. The minute they express affection and accept each other as partners other people, specially opposite gender, become a forbidden or at least disputed territory and this grey area is justified with possessiveness and romance. Is such romance any good? Does a relationship brimming with insecurities, lacking friendship and compatibility reap any fruit? No!

In my opinion marriage or partnership is a lot more than loving a person and filling their physical satisfactions. Its about financial stability, respecting personal boundaries, sharing and understanding the choices of your partner and striving together for a world both are happy in. It's about wrapping your mind around the idea of individualism that both man and woman tying a knot into a marital bond used to have their individual lives as well and this demands strong connection. A connection beyond romance. But in love marriages, I've seen couples losing that personal space. I've seen married people ditching their friend to appease  their counterparts. I've seen husbands pushing their wives into facing pointless antagonism from their side of the family for the sake of a stable marriage. Not that I think marriage shouldn't have an element of compromise or love in it, my only point is never get blindsided by your romantic attractions. Give yourself a reality check because marriage is something bigger than flowers and hearts. Couples face real life problems which idea of love alone cannot solve. It demands a bonding more than the kind of love Bollywood movies have been feeding us since long times. 

Yes, I always hated Rahul for choosing tina over Anjali! 

Think about it, does mantra of "love at first sight" makes much sense once you have signed a contract of sharing a room for whole life and raising offsprings together? It demands more than a romantic setting. It asks for sense of security, commitment, understanding and celebration of each other's individuality and a relationship devoid of compatibility can never provide that. So, if an arrange marriage can be scary, a hasty love marriage with scarce compatibility can be equally damaging. In a nutshell, introduce a bit of rationality while taking a relationship to marriage because it's not necessary to marry a person you are in love with but It's absolutely necessary to have a partner who understands your needs other than romance as well and strive to let you make a life you've wanted for yourself. Yes, that's the idea of compatibility. 

Haram, Haraam! Suicide Haram!

I have been cranky and frustrated today but couldn't comprehend reason of it. I just figured it out. It's been too long I've written my heart out. Too much has happened in between but I'm exclusively sickened by a recent incident and reaction it has cultivated in medical community. A medical student from Agha khan committed suicide three days back and it has triggered a lot of reaction on social media. It's horrifying that suicide is on rise among medical students but what's outrageous is how most of the medical community reacts every time such incident happens. Now you assume that doctors would know better but you're strayed. Majority among them blames the victim, same like a layman does, in the name of religion. They condemn the way of ending life in such "haram" way. Apparently they raise awareness by propagating how victim should have kept belief in God. And many other "should have" and "would haves"  linger on social media, each propagating a whole new level of sickness. No one cares enough to point out distorted mental health that leads to suicide. No one bothers raising a question on system that puts this much pressure on students. No one gives a piece of mind to raise awareness about depression. All they do is to condemn a haram act. No wonder status of mental health is terrible in Pakistan. No wonder doctors lack empathy here. No wonder these people would become doctors not capable enough to feel the pain of a patient. You think I'm making gross generalizations? You feel I'm being a judgmental prick here? Do as it pleases you but I don't feel obliged to respect people who can't take a minute to empathize with a dead person just because his method of death lies in grey area of their beliefs. I don't feel obliged to respect people who have medical background yet they talk non-sense when it comes to mental health. I don't feel obliged to respect people who can't stretch their wit beyond what is  taught to them in the name of religion. A doctor should know better because he's going to handle such patients in future. A doctor should know better because he is trained to think differently than a layman. A doctor should know better because if he doesn't, public won't. But despite all this, if he does think like a layman, and blames a victim, he might be a good muslim but an abysmal professional. Period.  

We girls.

I'm a girl with big dreams. Dreams of conquering hearts. Dreams of witnessing this raw world with its beauty and ugliness. Dreams of leaving footprints on sand of time. Dreams of validation after I'm long gone. Dreams of individualism. Dreams of happiness, sadness, and dreams of being understood as a complete human.  I've put them in a basket and I am carrying them while wobbling in this world that tends to crush me so subtly. And I'm not alone, there many like me, steering themselves through a pack of wolves that wastes no chance to bully them, scare them, or gnaw their flesh with their pointed teeth to carve them in their own way. 

Sadism

Some people are special in your life. Hardcore special. That more you get closer to them, more you fear losing them. Your mind rushes to find a little glitch in a perfect situation. A small moment to feed insecurities overshadowing your brain. Negative thoughts and peer pressure pop up to ruin little moments of happiness. Sadness of good byes dominate beauty of togatherness. Why is it so convenient to fall prey to sadism? Is it our intrinsic nature or sorroundings shaping us that make us so prone to negative emotions? Why is it so hard to shed overwhelming feeling? 

Social indoctrination

It's so depressing how  desi parents indoctrinate their children so subtly for the sake of society. They expect them to act in a certain way, choose a certain career, and live a life that conforms to social standards no matter how annoyingly illogical they are. This obsession begins the day child is born. This cousin, that cousin. This neighbour kid, that neighbour kid. Looks, attitude, studies, marriage, every minor detail is compared with other children without giving a single thought to individualism. Those parents who show strength enough to let their kids prioritise and choose things for themselves are questioned by random people in name of "concern". Like their concerns would turn the tables. So much for person choices! Every girl of my age can relate one way or other, to what I'm gonna state here. We are forced to choose biology in matriculation. We are then pushed towards getting a doctorate degree and if you think it will stop there, you're mistaken. You need to choose gynaecology if you're a woman, like it's a religion you have to follow, otherwise you can discard that degree. Thankyou very   much. Yes I've actually heard my aunt (and she's a doctor's wife) saying "wo larki doctor hi kya jo gynaecologist na ho". I still can't get over this statement honestly. But wait, gynaecology isn't the final redemption. After six years of misery you're expected to forget about career and settle into an arrange marriage with a person you've no fringing idea about. No one thinks it's deviatory because how else things can happen? A love marriage? Tauba Tauaba. That settled once, don't bother to explore choices for job, they are not chosen according to your likes or dislikes, they are to be determined according to child who will be coming in this world in next few years because a life yet to start is more important than the one that has already started. And not having a baby? Don't even think about it. It's an alien concept here. Why would anyone even think about not having a baby? What's more to life? Yes, you will be diagnosed as crazy and selfish couple (who will be breaking up soon) by same people who moan about lack of freedom due to babies. Even if this baby comes, there are always people around to advise you on acting in a certain way. If you don't, you're not practical enough to understand a new life and your paternal instincts are dim which will only groom with descend of more babies whom you can mould in your own way. 

Honestly, what's with all this indoctronation? Does our society think we produce sheeps instead of humans? This is the only point where our nation takes evolution seriously: that onlydifference  between us and chimpenzes is that we have a thumb to hold things otherwise we can be treated like pets. Seriously, people need to stop poking their noses in other's business and work for their own miserable lives. That would help both parties. And children should be treated like individuals not robots that can be tuned in a certain way. I agree parents live their lives for their kids. They sacrifice more than one can imagine. They can die for their children's comfort and apparently they do all this for their benefit but in this process a child might get damaged. His fragile personality might get inflicted and his inner self might die a slow death. So, this obsession needs to stop right here because it's maddening. Don't let society dictate your children to put puzzles according to its perceptions.  Let them live a little on their own! 

New year or whatever!

Last time I sat down and wrote my heart out was in 2015. Now it's 2016 (its only 2nd day actually) and so much has happened in this coarse of days. I lost my mobile (yes my dear black i4 isn't with me anymore). We had memories :') 

I dropped it on a road, thanks to my recklessness. But I blame Shahbaz Sharif for it. His obsession with roads has taken away my phone when I was passing through a rough road. It just fell out of my hoody's pocket. Anyway, enough of moaning, I've a new one now and that's another story, which I'm in no mood of jotting down.

I want to scribble changes I've felt in me lately. And since I don't care enough to make an emotional and cheesy post about thanking 2015 and welcoming 2016 (like they were the reason, good and bad things happened to me) so I'm just going to include these as give-aways of 2015 to me. 

1. I've grown less annoying in matters of heart. My EQ has grown mature probably, out of blue incident that is. I had an intimate experience though. God, that was a good day. 

2. I've grown more sensitive towards my family. That incessantly carefree teenager is dying a slow death and I fear becoming a typical eastern daughter who just says yes to everything including an arrange marriage with a total stranger that she has no freaking idea about. (Although while writing this I've realised conditions are not this worst at my part yet, but you know murphy's law) 

3. Marriage story doesn't end here. I've grown more anti-marriage and although I want to have a partner, institution of marriage still has a big question mark on it. It's too much hard work for not-so-necessary reasons.

4. I've become more restless. Like a soul that has no idea which body to fit in. I'm struggling with deciding what to do about so much energy I've. I need a way to vent it out.

5. Fourth year is no good news because career decisions are coming near. Big days. 

6. I'm becoming morbid. My dopamine levels are exhausting slowly and happiness or excitement is getting distant. 

And a hope note for new year:  I don't care about 2016, its just a change of figures. I'm done with crappy cheesy new year stuff. Life has made me cynic and I don't even hate it. 

Three down, two to go!

Done with third year. Done with Pharma. Done with Forensic. Done with Microbiology and general Pathology.  Done with behavioural Sciences. Done with misery for another half year. Done with three years of medicine. I got what I worked for so thanks to me. Yes, me. And my family because they have been on my side all along through this. My mother who cooked for me in the oddest hours, bought me energy drinks, my favourite biscuits, chocolates for my midnight cravings, and chips for ny constant snacking. She made breakfast, lunch and dinner without me budging an inch from that sofa. My sister who has been my moral support, my cousin Saima who has been really caring this whole time, my brother for bringing me stuff from market, my father for saying encouraging words always because he believed in me. Usman for constant moral support, Unaiza for listening to me, Saad for being my motivator. These are the people I'm thankful to. These are the people who share credit for this year. So Thanks to them for standing by me and holding my hand through this. It was a tough year so It's relief, nothing but relief. Somehow, I've gotten immune to this intense phase which sorrounds me every year so no cloud nine feeling, no exhuberance, just relief and confidence that I can do this. I can do it with my own will power and effort!

Good bye to third year and Hello to fourth year because I'm all set for it 👠👜 

Whataboutism and Paris attack.

People are crying over selective humanity by west and all that "whataboutism" is going on like crazy. I agree Western media has converged more on Paris attack and Beruit has been ignored in all the outrage. And I agree Beruit tragedy is equally heart-wrenching and should be condemned with equal intensity. It's wrong if anyone thinks human lives lost in Paris are superior. I stand up for Beruit as I stand up for Paris. 

But what bugs me is that Syria has been on war for last four years and ISIS has been breaking hell loose there, but Muslim facebook warriors didn't talk about it. They didn't give a shit about knowing Syria conflict. They didn't bother raising a voice for refugees and their troubles unless Humans of New York (a western blog) started a campaign and people commented and shared those pics with some oohs and ahhs. No one boycotted arabic countries for turning cold eyes on Syrian Muslims. And now today, when people are standing up for tragedy in Paris, they have suddenly waken up about Iraq, Syria and Palestine. Europe has been a part of biggest peace rally against Iraq war in 2003, making it to Guinness book of world record. How many demonstration have we seen here for Syria, Iraq, Palestine and even Pakistan? How much solidarity people show to war crimes in these Muslim countries, that are reported daily? Majority prefers to enjoy their lives but when comes a time for standing up with something happening in western world, all of sudden everyone wakes up and starts moaning about why there is no dp filter for Muslim countries. So, yes it's not Muslim ummah you care for, it's hatred of west that provoke you for this. It's just a way to shame those who care enough to stand for a carnage happening in a world which is culturally and religiously different from us. Even Muslims don't care about Muslims. They only feel insecure about west getting sympathy. This is utter hypocrisy.

Good Bye to Third Prof, 2015

Another year has almost ended. Almost, because vivas are yet to come but I have dealt with major part and I definitely had my fair share of misery. I feel third year seems benign but it has a weird power of knocking you down on your knees and make you cry in helplessness. Nothing was as easy as it seemed, or at least as I had anticipated it because of my own denial and optimism (not that I regret it). 

Pharmacology was like a stubborn baby, everyone had warned you about. Frustrating, tiring and rot with no sense of ethics. So, I hired a nanny Raymon and learned to make my way through it. It wasn't easy (definitely not easy)  but not impossible either. Turned out, I had raised the stubborn child well at the end. Thanks to the nanny of course. 

Pathology was like "other woman" you had underestimated the whole year but that bitch knew where to hit hard. It caught me off the guard and threw me at the edge of my breaking point where I almost lost my sanity. No matter what, I won't be able to muster up a shred of compassion for Patho now or ever. 

Forensic: A friend zoned admirer, desperate for attention. Getting along with a shred of effort but you were always too busy to bother. How could that be different for me? I turned to it for occasional breaks only when other two drained my whole energy and it still hugged me. But you know people, they give up on you some day and so did Forensic. It took revenge in its own way and I had no idea what was I doing while attempting mcqs. Still, it was easier than rest of two. 

Behavioural sciences: a person added in your Facebook whom you never notice unless he dies or pretend like it. And I understood House religiously when he said: Everyone dies. 

So, here ends this year. It was tough. Yes, it was like surviving a hurricane but nothing worth having comes easy. These days are still the most powerful days of the year that make us push our limits and redefine them. They give us a sense of achievement and control on ourselves. And they leave memories of their own kind. Saying good bye  to yet another period of annual misery which will be back again in no time. And Leaving it in hope that it won't hit back.

Masks.

I see people complaining about others wearing masks and pretending all the time but what they fail to realise is that it's the world itself which forces everyone to wear that mask. Honesty isn't a sweet pill to swallow and it goes hand in hand with acceptance. One can't exist without other. But in here, being yourself completely and putting out raw, beautiful self which you truly are, is like going out in a blazing sun at peak of July. It's a constant battle of restraining yourself from breaking down, and melting in the face of a force that wants to either tone you down into its own pattern or crush you altogether. It brings you to a point where you're mocked, bullied and antagonized by same people who claim not to want a masked face. So, pretending is a survival strategy, a desperate attempt to escape those hostile circumstances, and it's justifiable because there is nothing wrong with craving for acceptance. And If people want others to be honest, they themselves need big hearts too, open enough to accept that darkness hidden inside each of us.