‘The world becomes a dream, and dream becomes a reality…’

“What if you slept? And what if, in your sleep, you dreamed? And what if, in your dream, you went to heaven and there plucked a strange and beautiful flower? And what if, when you awake, you had the flower in your hand? Ah, what then?” (Samuel Coleridge) At the first reading, one might go ‘uhh…WHAT????!!!’ At least, that’s what I did. Samuel Coleridge was an English Romantic poet, one of the Romantics of the nineteenth century. This thingy quoted above might seem very, very weird to some people and a complete waste of time to everyone. But as is the case with every long and seemingly incomprehensible quote, if you think just a bit about it, with enough knowledge about the Romantics, it could actually make sense; it would seem to be the most beautiful thing ever quoted. What is this quote? Not some words spun out by some boring poet, but a simple illustration of the foremost characteristic of the Romantic poets. It gives us the ultimate view of the yearning for something distant and unattainable. They longed for by-gone eras, the distant cultures like the Orient with its mysticism, and were irrepressibly drawn towards night, twilight, old ruins, and the supernatural. But maybe what I find the most charming about these Romantics is their preoccupation with the darker side of life, the mystical, the uncanny, and the murky. I wonder if any of them were ever involved in the Dark arts? Anyways, most of the Romantics stopped all their talk about love and the dark side when they got older. Maybe it was only something for young people. Either they died at 29, or, if they lived beyond their thirties, they became typical middle-class people. And to be one of the Romantics meant that there was danger involved. When Goethe published his novel ‘The Sorrows of Young Werther’ the suicide rate went up, and the book was banned in Norway and Denmark for some time. It’s not a waste of time to learn about the Romantics, I feel as if I can read quotes like these and learn their meaning all day…all that I posted here is more or less in this book I’m reading. Believe me, “Sophie’s world” is not a thriller, nor is it particularly gripping, but the part about the Romantics…it’s my soul’s food in there, and I’m addicted to it. You know, it’s true that ‘you cannot step into the same river twice’. When you step in again, neither the river nor you are the same as before. I guess I’ll change one thousand and one times before I turn around to step into the river again. I’m that type of person, I change with every word I type, every poem I write, every blog post, very comment, every day, minute, hour, second, I’m a whole new person. My emotions may be written all over my face, but I don’t think that anyone can feel this; maybe only I and Allah could…anyways, I hope you’ve read uptil now (or did I lose you with that first quote?), so plz leave a comment for heaven’s sake and see how I’ll change this time. ;)

Hey, guess what! I hate my family! Guess what else? I loathe my family. And my innermost secret that I have never, ever revealed upto now… I despise, scorn, spurn, deride, am disdainful of, detest, can’t stand, can’t bear, abhor, abominate, am disgusted by, repulsed by my whole darned family!!!!!!!!!!!!! I don’t want them to die. Nor do I want myself to die. But I sure would love to get away from them somehow, somewhere, for a long long time… It’s been too much-I wish I lived in America where a girl could live all alone if she could support herself. Or at least get some privacy. I am constantly getting picked on, constantly ignored (when they aren’t in the mood to pick on me), and constantly repulsed by everyone in this thing one calls a family. And to top it all off, my mother says I’m a spoilt brat! Thank you so very much! I study hard all day so I can achieve respectable grades, almost never go out with friends, I don’t even have the computer in my own room, I wasn’t allowed to go on the trip to India, I clean up after my little sister, never bug anyone to go outside to eat…but I’m a spoilt brat! I am her middle child, and middle children are the ones most ignored, most misunderstood, and the most likely to go into depression from their teen to their old age. It’s time someone thought about it. The way they keep hankering after me to let them read my blog, one would think that they were the closest people to me on earth. But regretfully, they’re not. They’re the most anti-privacy, unfair, unreasonable people God has ever created! It’s them who make me feel so low; I never thought I’d write anything like this for my blog, but somehow, they’ve been at my case for so long…I really don’t give a hoot about anything.

Finally, I am back, and I must admit it can’t be too soon for me. I hate traveling in cars, as a rule; they’re much too cramped and you never get any peace. Plus, the ride is way too long. On top of that, the constant motion tires me and makes everyone else cranky too. So driving all the way to first Islamabad and then Murree with one grumpy older sister and one bratty younger sister, one nagging mother and an uptight father wasn’t exactly an experience to remember. One might say that I’m ungrateful, but I can’t help it. I mean, I never wanted to take the trip in the first place. I wanted to get my notes neat and my homework done, and I also wanted to start studying for the SAT test I have to give on may 7, and I wanted to RELAX, not to spend the holidays in some freezing hotel in Murree where the bathrooms are not so good, and you never get any decent fast food. What about fun? There was still some snow left, and we did some shopping, but it was definitely NOT worth all that tension and hassle of being stuck together for four days. I love solitude and peace, and that is exactly what I did not get these holidays. Maybe I could have seen some bright spots in my holiday, but my suffering state does not allow me to view this idiot time-waster as anything else but. I’ve got one of those irritating temperatures that leave you feeling exhausted but are just a mite above the 99 degrees point so if I miss school I’ll probably feel too guilty for making such a fuss-and it doesn’t impress anyone much, either. My complexion’s a mess from the extreme temperatures we had to endure, and the stupid fool of a doctor has prescribed several antibiotics for me for this li’l swelling I had in my eye(which is now perfectly all right, but the medicines have to continue). Anyways, maybe I’ll be updating regularly, maybe I won’t. Never make promises, because it always guarantees that you will break them(New motto thought up on the spot)

Off to the Northern areas....Murree, Abbottabad, Islamabad, God knows where else, and back on Saturday. i guess u don't have to be sad or bored to take a break from blogging. Until then--this is ATY, signing off.

I’ve always been a compulsive worrier, but no one would think it. See, I have a kinda expressionless face, which hardly shows any emotion at all…so even though I’m such an emotional person, the most my face would show is a slightly hurt expression, or a smile that seems forced most of the time. It doesn’t necessarily mean I don’t feel anything, but I do have a problem with coming to terms with my feelings. There are times in my life when I just can’t feel anything at all, even though something important had happened. I guess I don’t have much strength to actually feel something that cannot be defined. So where was I? Oh yeah, worrying. Why do I worry about such stuff that doesn’t worry others? I write a poem, I worry about whether it will ever be finished, I make a new friend, I worry that I’ll lose him/her due to some misunderstanding, I worry about not being able to update my blog frequently, I worry about losing my sole grandparent; I worry about my cat getting lost, for heaven’s sake! Right now, my main worry is about my batch mates all going to India. My parents didn’t allow me to go, so I won’t be there to take care of them (he he, I’m a mothering type who made sure her friends showered every day on our o level trip to Islamabad, made sure none of them got lost in the hotel we visited, and cleared the floor of any tiny object they might trip on while dancing). I’ve gotten over the depressed stage where I dwelled on the fact that I wasn’t going, so now I’m worrying for no reason at all. Well, technically there isn’t any reason, but I could make up a thousand and one life-threatening experiences they might have to go through. And I’ll have no contact with them, so my imagination might as well go berserk thinking of all the danger they might go through. Although if one thinks about it, it’s India that’s really in danger.;)

Does anyone really care if I cry, especially when it’s because of them? I don’t think so. Oh well…what can one do about it?

Even after three months of pretty regular blogging, I’m still confused as to what to put in my blog. I know the general idea is to post just about anything, but I can’t do that. Every feeling of mine turns out to be too personal to release, and yet that’s just not the problem. A long time ago, I was an extremely private person, but then I realized—life isn’t kind to people like that. People like that aren’t kind to themselves. Words were made to be said, mouths to speak, and just because you’re shy, it’s no reason to keep your trap shut about everything that’s bothering you. Problems won’t go away by shutting up, no matter how much time will heal, a private person always heals the last. And if someone hurts you, there’s no cause to remain silent, in smoldering anger or in despair. No one will ever get the message from silence. The days when people could rightly interpret silence are no longer here, if they were here at all. It’s a world of words…some useless, some sharp, some kind, some gentle, but they are words. I guess many of my friends would still classify me as a private person, but I know that I’m not, and haven’t been ever since I started talking to Allah. I dunno why just sitting on a prayer mat after prayers and just talking, talking, talking, into the empty space can make one feel as if every problem is in good hands. Sometimes His presence is so close, so endearing, that I hardly dare to believe it. And so now that I’ve opened up to Him, I’ve also been given the ability to open up to people…I’m not afraid anymore, I just can’t be.

IMPORTANT

Pakistan came into being in the name of Islam. After Madina Munawarrah it is the only state which came into existence with the vision of Islam.But,it is with deep regret we feel that Islam has been replaced with chaos and confusion. In Pakistan, presently, there is no law and order which an Islamic state should have. Foreign dependency has forced our leaders to take such steps in the disguise of ‘modern enlightenment’ which lead our future generation away from the values of Islam. The latest conspiracy against Islam is the change initiated by the Agha Khan Board in the curriculam of Pakistani schools.The Agha Khan Board wants to secularize the country’s education system and deviate the youth from Islamic traditions,ethics and morale. The syllabus for Islamiat in Matric has been drastically altered by the board by deleting ayats on jihad.The Agha Khan Board has been given the authority to change the curriculum by 10%.At this rate the board can change the syllabus by 100% in ten years! Where does the Agha Khan Board wants to lead our future generation is apparent from the ‘questionnaire’ compiled and circulated by the board under the title of ‘health survey’This questionnaire has been circulated amongst students of grade 9 and above.Some of the questions asked by this questionnaire are as follows · What do you think is the most dangerous cause of AIDS in Pakistan? · (1)Unsafe sex (2) Commercial sex workers (3) Homosexuality * How can you protect yourself from AIDS? (1)Restricted sex (2) Avoiding commercial sex workers (3) Through medicines. Have you ever had sex? (1) Yes (2) No. If yes at what age? (1) Less than 13 yrs (2) 13 yrs (3) 14 yrs (4) 16 yrs (5) 17 yrs or more,etc. Tick what you feel is correct (1) I have never had sexual relations.(2)I have sexual relationship with my girlfriend/boyfriend.(3) I am ashamed of my attitude towards sex (4) My friends are jealous of my sexual relationships. * Do you take drugs or other intoxicating things?If yes,how many times (1)Everyday (2)Once a week(3)Once a month ,etc. Why did you start drinking? (1)All my friends drink. (2)I want to look cool in front of my friends.(3) I was very disturbed. Do you think a boy and a girl in love should have sex before marriage? (1)It is ethically wrong. (2)It is not wrong.(3)I don’t know Tick what you think is correct (1)My friends indulge in sexual relationships as much as they like.(2)I would like to do as my friends do.(3)I think if a boy and a girl love each other it is alright to have sex before marriage. You can well imagine from these questions that it is all a conspiracy to introduce immoral values in our society.Try to visualize what effect these forms will have on boys and girls sitting in the same classroom.It is our social and religious responsibility to stop such organization from taking over our educational system if we want to save our future generations.

12th march

i know u're hurting me, even if u say u're not trying...u lie, u decieve and even thought u know how u've just SLASHED my heart, u'll never apologize...why wud u? u dun feel the need to...i'm just here to love u, i'm not supposed to feel anything, am i? i post this thing here and it's gonna confuse everyone, and i can't care anymore. i'm not myself now. i've changed...not for the better nor for the worse...just changed. I have. Me. Me. Me. yes, i've changed, and i can't change back. but i still love... i hate this word 'I'...but it keeps croppping up. i'm starting my life over again...but left-over remains are sometimes useful too..so i don't think anyone will notce the change until it finally hits them...one day when they're long dead for me.

can't-think-of-anything-to post-so-i-dumped-this-in-my-poor-blog

Cry skin; weep along with the angels Blood is worth more than water with salt Eyes are of no relief anymore They’ve revealed too much Of some tattered soul There is no cause to weep with tears any longer The red will replace the clear Let the inner hurt be shown outside Displayed thus, As rubies are Love, Hate and Rejection, let them be written In place of being splashed on the floor O let them be engraved on the ever-screaming skin Let blood, holy blood, in my name Spell Pain

Laugh

Laugh and the world laughs at u. Cry and you cry alone. What do they mean by saying that, whoever said it? Does it mean that we all should become nothing but clowns, the inside so very different from what is shown on the outside? That we all should paint big red smiles over our drooping mouths and just cover up all the hurt, the pain, the care within us that makes us weep? Or does it mean that there’s really no one there to share your grief, and that there’s no real reason why nobody cares enough to cry with you, it’s just the way things are?? Looking at all those caring friends and family around me, I should think that this ‘universal truth’ doesn’t really apply to anyone-except me. Sure, I have friends and family, but there’s no one who would cry because I’m crying, there’s no shoulder to even cry upon, and there’s no one to hold me up. Maybe no one knows or no one even cares that I need some support. Or maybe Allah has decided that I’m strong enough to cope with not only my own problems, but provide a strong support for others myself…hmmm…maybe that’s it. Laugh and the world laughs with you. Cry and the world laughs at you, God laughs at you, the sky laughs at you, the wind, the sun, the stars, the clouds laugh at you, all your loved ones laugh at u…until, finally, somewhere in the deep, dark chambers of your mind something, and idea, a thought, starts to glow, and you finally learn to laugh at yourself

scaredy-cat

Sometimes the smallest, most trivial of things scare me, and at other times I don’t get scared at all. I’ll watch the scariest horror movie late into the night (alone) and then go to sleep quite peacefully. I’ve never been scared of the dark, not as far as I or anyone else can remember. The best parts of staying up late with cousins or with friends (on field trips) for me were the ghost stories we told each other. I’d get a real thrill out of them, but I’ve never been unable to sleep or go into a certain room for sheer fright, even if a lizard were in the room. But some little things simply terrify me, especially my thoughts. Sometimes I think such scary thoughts that I feel frightened of myself…but how can you run away from urself? I think about losing my right hand in an accident or something, and I immediately grab it and hold it close…God forbid I should lose that old, faithful thing…I’ll never write again! I also think the weirdest things about what would happen if I were insane and never knew it, that these thoughts I’m thinking were really the thoughts of a mad person. And my blog posts were just the ravings of a lunatic…. The strangest thing I was (all right, I AM!) afraid of are the spots on the rug on the floor of the TV lounge. The rug itself it green and brown, but there’s this flower on it which has a center of reddish-brown dots…and they look EXACTLY like dried blood! I can’t stand them, I simply can’t. They send these really weird shivers up my spine…and not the good kind either. The last time I was sitting on that rug, I’d forgotten abt them, and believe me- it’s a real shock to see something that looked like dried blood near your hand! Those red spots completely spoil the atmosphere of that room…if there had been more spots like that I’d have been convinced that a murder was committed on that rug…but they’re just the center of a flower, for heavens’ sakes! But until and unless they’re covered with a book or something I can’t feel at ease in my own lounge! I really should get a grip on myself…I’m very very weird… But right now all I feel is pity for this blog…my poor, poor blog…invaded by unknown (not!) creatures from outer space…*sniff*