Hope

Dig deep. Burrow deeper. Shovel every memory of your past to establish an empirical connection with your now. Picture: A multitude of echoes reverberate every stratum of your existence until you give in. A gigantic ocean consumes you into its grapples stripping off every ounce of energy off you. Crimson oozes drop by drop from wounds, unfathomable. An armada of bullets bury under your chest tearing your flesh apart. You lament. Dirge in the most excruciating of voices. Cries escape your lips against the atrocities you were at the receiving end of. In times of trial and tribulation, you vie for retribution against people who gave up on you when you needed them the most. Against the faction that imbibed every chunk of your ego like a leech suckling on  blood. But. But, you are way too weak to avenge. Too frail to set loose your wings and fly. You wait, instead. Observe in taciturn the pinnacle of indifference society can climb. Get immune to all the gibberish people can't live without shoving in your face. And evolve. Pick up all those sprawled smithereens of yourself and coalesce them with nothing but hope at the crux. Hope; an abstract connotation having the powers to stir your heart. To lift your spirit when it seems badly dampened. Hope; that mere inkling that still believes that there's good out there against all odds. Close your eyes to the world and feel the power of your presence. Gear up yourself so that peoples' intrusion in your life holds no significance. So linger onto hope until death does you part. Relive life. Breathe.

Maxim-I

Stumbled across this very wise maxim while watching the movie, 'Into the Wild.'

The sea's only gifts are harsh blows, and occasionally the chance to feel strong. Now I don't know much about the sea, but I do know that that's the way it is here. And I also know how important it is in life not necessarily to be strong but to feel strong. To measure yourself at least once. To find yourself at least once in the most ancient of human conditions. Facing the blind death stone alone, with nothing to help you but your hands and your own head. 

 I suggest you take some time out by shoveling aside all those hefty responsibilities you cater to and reflect upon the dire need to revolutionize your very own self. Each one of us has a world of its own, a raging sea within, howling at us, scaring us to smithereens but only to our advantage. If only we realize. 

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger?

What if I fail? Will I be looked down as a failure who achieved so much so far and then saw it go down the drain in a split of a second? Why do people expect a lot from me when I’m just like them? A human. To err is human I thought or so was taught from scratch. We all make mistakes. If it weren't for our falls how could we be expected to rise? Rise and fall are relative I believe. But ego. Will I be egoistically bruised if I fail to live up to my previous reputation? Time is a funny thing. The sole realization that it never stops and takes you inch by inch closer to death is painful. But then why do I want it to pace up? Is it the world that I don’t come in good terms with or the uncertainties I wish to unravel before me. Did I deserve K.E or had I been better off leaving my alma mater for AKU? Why God, why?

I’d sit in isolation and bring forth such musings from the far recesses of my brain that sent shivers down my spine. Punching in numbers on a calculator had become a routine. Anatomy MCQs, 27; subjective, 45, umm 40 maybe; internal assessment, 7? The calculator screen would herald a score marginally close to 400. Not bad. First division. But I deserve a whole lot better than this. Only I know what I’d been through in the past few months. Sleep deprived, head buried in books 24/7, some crying moments spent fuming the field I opted for myself in the name of helping alleviate humanity of the sufferings it endures. I would tell myself that there is something called repression in this world, that time is the best healer of wounds which dampen the spirit. Damning the consequences is never easy mind you. Uncertainty brings colors to life, however. Keeps us on our toes. Makes us nibble our nails at the predicaments that life so blatantly throws our way. But this is a part and parcel of God’s plan to strengthen our faith in Him, to make us seek His bounties and to never fail Him. Never moan. Only be grateful for Him. If only we could quell the inner inducing voice of guilt. If only we could remember Him in the highs and lows of our lives and not just when we find ourselves hapless.

Imagine the inkling when the result’s put up and you are walking your way with a heavy conscience to see it for yourself. I’d calm myself down. Time is the best healer of wounds. You've been through worse times, Raza. Verily, God is the best planner. 121306, 121307, 121308, pause. I’d peer at my name and later make use of my rectus lateralis reflexively for the word that was a matter of life and death for me. PASS. Score: 485. My calculator lied to me ever since. I am much more capable than I thought I was.

That day a few realizations dawned on me that I would like to share. Firstly, drudgery never goes unrewarded. All those nights spent burning midnight oil finally pays off one way or the other. God is never unjust. Secondly, there are few people you should pay obeisance to throughout your lives. Your parents. Your family. Hug them a little tighter today and tell them that you love them if you haven’t yet. Thirdly, never underestimate yourself. Tell you what- if there’s anything I hate the most in my life, it’s failure. You can take it down by trumping over your fears. Go elicit the passion in yourself and accomplish all those impending ambitions you've set yourself out for or plan to go after. And lastly, never part away from God. Pray every day for all that you have that others never had the privilege to even dream of.

Confiding my result with my mother was the best thing in the world. She broke into tears. Something that moved me into shedding a tear or two as well. Such moments don’t occur every day. Always remember how you make someone feel never gets forgotten. Never. Treasure such memories in life because there are only so many children who did their parents proud.  

Before I get any further emo, I would like to share what someone special said when he was battling against AIDS. Arthur Ashe, one of the best tennis players of his time, in response to a letter his fan wrote saying: "Why does God have to select you for such a bad disease?" said: “The world over--50,000,000 children start playing tennis, 5,000,000 learn to play tennis, 500,000 learn professional tennis, 50,000 come to the circuit, 5000 reach the grand slam, 50 reach the Wimbledon, 4 to semifinals, 2 to finals. When I was the one holding the cup, I never asked God ‘Why me?’And today in pain, I should not be asking GOD 'why me?'"

 

Guess I downplayed the idea of committing suicide at the right time and rightfully so. Cheers! 

Hola!

Even after I had mustered every iota of energy I could to work my fingers into writing something for this new found blog, a feeling of skepticism came creeping into me. Do I have enough time on me to feed this habit of mine? Would I be doing justice to every single word I pour with an instant stroke of a keyboard? As luck would have it, I ran into this article that was an outright killjoy. Little known the feelings of a poor soul like me whose first blog post Mr. XYZ so apathetically resents. I'll make sure that my dad likes my post too, cruel author.

Change. Something that I've been yearning for quite some time now. Not that I hate myself for being me but no denying the inkling of outdoing myself. Getting better, wiser. Only through writing do I believe I stand a chance of keeping track of personal life-long lessons I have a knack for forgetting. Catharsis, maybe.

Making choices, settling on for an array of temptations and growing up are a part of life. We evolve constantly. Even become ambivalent at times as life progresses. Things that used to strike our fancy say two years ago do not hold the same appeal for us anymore. It's about time I capture every minute happenings of my past. Etch them into my memory so that repression never gets the better of those little demure smiles life so blissfully hurled my way.

Past has seen me take furtive glances of what lies before me through the peephole. Through blogging, I long to get a much broader, refreshingly breathtaking view.


Adios amigos.