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Finding Neverland Blog Archive

Tuesday, May 24, 2016

Burning Light

Burning Light

This is where she'll leave you now.
Breaking all her serene vows.
Forgive her for the pain to come.
She tried to stop the tragedy of love.
You were her lyrics.
She was your rose.
She had her thorns now exposed.
She had no choice but to dispose.
Now you know she was everything,
but not naive.
For she will, in that hour of night
Wilt herself to the burning light. 

                                  -Written By: Zainab Shah

Saturday, May 21, 2016

Timely Transformation


Times have changed, and I believe I am changing as well. It was long due, and once something runs their course, it is useless to stick around and try to make it work. New life has been good so far, well, most of the times new beginnings are good. It is once you totally get involved and explore everything about it, is when you get to decide if something is right or wrong.

I have started working at an office for the first time, and it feels different, hectic and exciting at the same time. I have always been afraid of working at a place with a room and desktop of my own, giving and taking orders. But it hasn’t been too bad. Everyone has been so helpful and friendly as most people are here in England.

It also keeps me busy! I have been trying to consume my time, and now I barely get any to write or social work. But the sad part is there won’t be any summer vacations for me.

The good, though, is that I will be going back to the United States for few weeks! It has been a long while since I have been in America. So kind of, sort of excited about it.

It is also my first time that I have been given the duty at dessert section at the restaurant I work. My God, it is so hard to resist all the delicious sweet dishes and ice creams. I never imagined I would say that because sugary stuff and I don’t have the best of relations.

If I had to choose one word from these three previous ones, it would be hectic because working two jobs at a time and managing your university is not as easy as it looks.

There are a few other things that I have noticed about myself. I have become peaceful and patient in the past few weeks. I can’t imagine saying that about myself before. I can easily let go when someone is saying something wrong. I can nicely tolerate when someone is saying something negative.

I always believed that everyone has the right to say or do things they want, and we are no one to stop them. Now I can implement that in my life. My psychology professor says it is a sign of me maturing, and I shall take her word for it.

Ramadan is coming near! I would have said I am excited but no, that is not the case here. But that’s okay? Everyone has to adapt. I will too, that’s how it is supposed to be.

One thing is for sure; I won’t be making anymore spelling mistakes and useless errors in my blog posts anymore. YES! Believe it or not. I won’t. Never have been good at proof reading. If I am honest, I have never had the time to proofread any article of mine. It is enough torture writing everything.

Enough torture then? Will be back soon with a few good news. Hopefully, they will pan out well by the time I will be writing my next post. 

The Story of Younis Khan (Part-2)

Younis Khan controversy

The next afternoon, a couple of days before Eid, Younis was at the studios of Geo TV on II Chundrigar Road, a central Karachi avenue on - and around - which reside the country's main business and media houses. Blue skies are great, but when the July clouds appear, as they had on this day, they bring out a truer sense of Karachi; older buildings, otherwise inconspicuous, stand accentuated; trees appear greener; roads stretch out confidently, as if breaking out from the tyranny the sun has kept them under. I trust Karachi under clouds; sunny days do not suit its disposition.

Younis was at the studios to record an interview with Yahya Hussaini. I had arranged to meet Younis there and we chatted during and around his interview. He told me that while washing his car that morning, he had considered turning up at my house unannounced and starting our interview there. But, he said, he had too much on and wasn't sure how I would react. I wasn't sure either.

Hussaini has the razor-sharp instincts of a tabloid journalist, especially expert at imagining smouldering but inconsequential tiffs into great-balls-of-fire disputes. He can smell an aggrieved player a mile away and turn him into the day's major news. Cricketers understand this; a player who complains to him is far likelier to be heard and noticed.

I sat down in the production room to watch the recording, thinking it would be in the mode of the previous evening's felicitations, part of a loosely organised PR whirl. I was with Saqib, who is well known to anyone who knows Younis as The Guy Who Always Knows Where Younis Is. He is impassive by nature and appearance, though you can't miss the almost permanent look of resignation on his face. He has a job, a surname and a life outside work, but I know nothing about those. I like him. He looks like someone who will not screw you over.

Hussaini's interview began promisingly. Younis recalled the February day in 2000 that confirmed his Pakistan selection - a side game against Sri Lanka at the UBL ground, a 45-minute drive away from the studio where we were sitting. The PCB XI was first bowled out for 48 on a damp pitch (from unexpected rain) and lost the 50-over match (Younis made 3). A 25-over exhibition game was hurriedly arranged in which Younis hit 68 off 58 balls. I expected more of this memoirish tone through the interview.

Hussaini did not. For him, the highlights of a 15-year career were simply too many for this show, so they would concentrate on some of the complaints and grievances of that career. First up, the palaver over the 2015 World Cup and Younis' place within it. Now in the big picture of Younis Khan, his awkward 50-over career and fade is hardly the headline. Yet less than five minutes in, this naked flame was coming hard at the fuel.

It's worth lingering on this because it documents the mood Younis was in at the time and the mood he has been in for some time. You could argue it is more than a mood - a trait, maybe, without which he would not be what he is.

Tuesday, May 17, 2016

Love and Lost.

Love and Lost

When I thought we could survive. 
The misery had paved its way inside.  
You kissed me good bye and ran away.
Left me looming, barren and stray.
I rushed back & forth to get out of this black hole. 
But my stars had turned ash, to the core.
I looked up at the sky hoping for a change to come.
But enough had I lost for this damn love.
                                       - Written By: Zainab Shah

Saturday, May 14, 2016

My Journey back to a Conflicted Homeland


Written By: Tami Sheikh (Huffington Post)

Coming back to Lahore (one of the main cities in Pakistan) after many years, was something that I was looking forward to and dreading also. I am born American, however coming from a conservative Pakistani family my parents wanted to raise us as three girls in Pakistan. I was 10 when I moved to Lahore and I was 19 when I moved back to California.

For more than a decade the horrific images of Pakistan that the media had been showing seemed so different from the place I grew up in. So when I visited Lahore after so many years, I wanted to soak in the beauty and the darkness of this place -- I decided to write a journal about my trip.


As I left the airport, everything seemed the same yet different. The people were the same mostly clad in the traditional outfit called "Shalwar Kameez" but then I could also see many in western clothes including jeans, shorts, t-shirts, tank tops and dresses. The roads were wider and more organized yet the same noise of motorbikes and people buzzed through my ears. The same smell of food and humidity filled the air giving it a yummy yet sticky sensation. My heart raced as I saw the roads I once traveled on, the stores I once shopped in and the food places I loved to go to. Some of those places looked new however others were torn down and looked like ruins. Coming back to the place I grew up in was just full of contradictions.

Kindness is the Language of Love.

A few days ago at Iftar (opening of the fast), I sat in the car outside a crowded shopping center in Lahore. As people closed the stores down to break their fast, a very old man (who was selling fruits on the side of the road ) tapped on my window and offered me his one and only khajoor (date) to open my fast. I told him I wasn't fasting and thanked him , he then went and brought his plate of rice and told me to share some of his food, when I kindly refused he said, "Beti you have to eat something, how can I eat my meal when I see you sitting here and not eating," and insisted that I take some rice. I graciously obeyed and we both smiled and our souls were connected through kindness and a smile.

Hope and gratitude are the Biggest Weapons against a Defeated Heart.

Today my mother carried out her monthly ritual of going to the hospital and giving money to patients who are in the worst financial condition possible. I accompanied her and as I entered the government-run hospital my heart sunk. It was a women's ward where patients suffering from tuberculosis were being treated, there were about 12 beds lying next to each other. Each bed had a woman on it, ages ranging from 16-80. As I passed by each bed and talked to them the thing that hit me the most was that they were in so much pain yet they tried hard to smile. Their eyes seemed empty and their souls were in pain. Some still had a ray of hope in their eyes while others looked like empty vessels. I left the hospital in tears and realized that hope and gratitude are the two biggest weapons against a defeated heart.

Memories are the Mirrors of Our Heart .

Yesterday I drove by a house I lived in when I was 11 years old. The house was the same - white walls, big yard, the black front gate, the empty road where we played for hundreds of hours, the smell of jasmine flowers, the mosque next door and the numerous mango trees. The house had stood there for so many years and given shelter to so many people after we left. The memories that came to me were so vivid and clear, and I never even realized that this house had lived in my heart for over 30 years. Seeing it was like embracing an old friend, we had shared so many secrets.