My House is on Fire

Written By: Maham Shahbaz

My house is on fire; its burning away there is ash flying. Why can I not go in? I did all that you said I bowed down to your decisions I cried when I asked for something, I was on my knees. What more do you want? Why can I never be enough for you? I clean and sweep, I scrub away the patches of evil from my soul I try to get rid of what I was born with. I’m torn now, I’m torn in two. Which side of me should I pick? Which side of me should I betray? The irony of it, how I despise betrayal and you bring me to a situation where i must betray a part of me.

Fake

Written By: Rameeza Ahmad

 They don’t know, they don’t understand.

They can’t decipher my feelings, they can’t comprehend.

Feel so tired so upset about things.

No one knows about my feelings.

No friends, no foes, I stand alone.

I hide behind a mask, so forlorn.

My laughs are fake, my life a big mistake.

I feel wrought up, so dead inside.

My only source is my disguise.

You don’t know me so don’t claim it.

How can you know someone, who lives to fake it?

A friendly face means nothing at all.

In the end no one cares at all.

Sometimes I can’t pretend, I need a break.

These times just leave me alone, I need time off from being fake.

A Ride Down Memory Lane

Written By: Fatima Haroon

Sunday afternoon, during a rather windy day, walked a middle-aged woman down the pathway,
carrying with her what seems to weigh more than a hundred pounds inside her head. Her woolly cashmere coat, her thick leather boots, an opened letter from a loved one,  and her stupendous umbrella that she carried with her  just in case of a drizzle, seemed to weigh no more than an atom for her.

Hearing the heavens roaring, she tried to increase her pace by taking longer steps with her two-inch heels, but the much awaited drizzle prevented her from doing so. Therefore, she unstrapped her stupendous umbrella, which served her well for a few minutes, until the heavens unleashed umbrella-carrying winds upon that part of the city. Given the fact that her house was still a mile away, she clenched onto her feathery hat, safely placed the envelope she has been carrying in her hand into a deep pocket of her coat,  and tried to find a shade to sit out the storm in. The heavens then soon roared a thunder in an east direction that caused her to lay eyes on a secluded bench, under an old oak tree.

Pakistan and its Cricket Team

Written By: Fatima Faisal

Switching to the news channel on our televisions, the only BREAKING NEWS that shoots our adrenaline level to its highest altitude and brings a 240 volt bright smile to our (well, 'at most' to a cricket fan's) face is the news of  Pakistan Cricket Team winning.

Why is cricket the heartbeat of the people of Pakistan? Why is it largely followed than any other sport despite not having International cricket in the country since 2009, after the terrorist attack on the Sri Lankan Cricket Team in Gaddafi Stadium,Lahore? Yes, you spotted the phrase, didn't you? 'TERRORIST ATTACK'.

Roberta Mancino

Italy is famous for it's international films and modelling, many beautiful models who have ruled the industry belong to Italy. You can name several of them from Sophia Lauren to Isabella Rossellini and the list just goes on and on.

Roberta Mancino is one of the top upcoming International models from Italy and has already established herself in the modelling industry. But it isn't her beauty or modelling skills that has made her famous. She is a skydiver, BASE jumper, wingsuit flyer, international model, boxer and has recently taken an interest in scuba-diving with sharks.

Last Night of Allama Muhammad Iqbal

By: Justice Javed Iqbal (Son of Allama Muhammad Iqbal)

It was the night of 20th April 1938 when everyone, all his followers and friends were gathered around his bed in that curvy room.

I entered his room at around 9pm but he couldn't recognize me and asked who is it?

I replied, Javed.

He laughed and said: Be the actual Javed (Eternal).

Then he asked Chaudhry Muhammad Hussain to make me read that prayer ' Khitab ba Javed ' written at the end of Javed Nama.

Aunty Dauras brought Munira in the room, she sat on his bed and started talking to him. At around 10pm Aunty Dauras came to the room to take her as it was her sleeping time but she said she wanted to talk to father more.

Father smiled and told Aunty Dauras in English to let her stay, as she knows it might be her last night with me.

Munira slept in father's bed and Aunty Dauris carried her away later at night.

One Last Time

 Written By: Rameeza Ahmad

Lets laugh together one last time.

Lets dance together one last time.

Lets joke together one last time.

Lets have fun together one last time.

Lets sing together one last time.

Lets run together one last time.

Lets hug each other one last time.

Lets bid farewell to each other one last time.

Lets wave to each other one last time.

Lets look at each other one last time.

Friends Froever

I always tell myself that when you find someone worth knowing, just don’t let them go away. But to be honest I am not good at telling people how much they mean to me. Weird isn’t it? Judging by the speed at which I complement people.

You already know I don’t let people get close to me because it makes me vulnerable.

But you, yes you, it is really strange, to be honest I thought I will never get to talk to you. I resisted, then you talked and I told myself here is your chance, if you want her to be your friend, get to know her, and don’t mess up.

Oh and wasn’t I nervous. Every time we talked I was thinking what if she minds something? What if she stops replying? How will I make her talk? What if she got bored? All the strange thoughts skulked through.

You are really nice and caring; at least that is what I have learnt about you until now.

Don’t take it in a wrong way but you are the type of girl who attracts me. Like the type I actually feel like talking myself. The type who is complicated but deep down is so simple. The intimidating but fun type Moody and an artist and more importantly you are the type who is pretty but doesn’t really have the attitude problem.

And yes my heart skips a beat whenever I try and open your display pictures.

Just so that you know, I care for you, and as time will pass you will only become more important for me. As much as this thought scares me it makes me so happy too.

I will be there for you whenever you need me, whenever you are sad, whenever you want someone to talk to and whenever you need to take your frustration out on someone… I will be there.  I want to be there. I will consider myself lucky.

All I expect in return is that you be honest … if you hate me someday you can tell me, if you have any complains you should tell me, if you don’t like anything I do just let me know, if ever I cross a limit, stop me. I won’t mind anything, I never do.

The only time I get confused and mess up things is when someone holds back on their feelings about me good or bad, hides something because I may ‘mind’ or etc. When I know someone trusts me, when I know how much they expect from me, it brings the best out of me. Hope you got my point? I hope you did.

So well you can trust me in everything you want to, I will try my best not to let you down, just by the way, I know I can trust you. And just so you know the more you trust me the more I will trust you, the more you get consider me a close friend, the more close I’ll be. But please never change.

Okay wow, one page has completed, I had just two three paragraphs in my mind.

I don’t care if you are a terrorist, if you think I am an alien, if you think you do weird things, If you think I am Voldemort.. I really don’t.. I will always judge you on your good things.

If you do crazy things I will do all the crazy things with you, if you sleep talk I will act I sleep talk too, if you say weird things while you are sleepy, I’ll do the same. If you want to climb K2 someday I will be there with you.

I should stop now.

Stay the way you are and never change, because you are perfect this way.

Complete Story of Hillsborough Disaster

On 15 April 1989, 96 Liverpool fans were crushed to death and hundreds more injured on the steel-fenced terraces of Sheffield Wednesday's stadium, which was hosting that year's FA Cup semi-final.


About the Stadium.

Hillsborough is a football Stadium in Sheffield. It is the home of Sheffield Wednesday a football club and was selected by the FA as a neutral venue to host the 1988–89 FA Cup semi-final between Liverpool and Nottingham Forest football clubs. Kick-off was scheduled for 3:00 pm on 15 April, and fans were advised to take up positions fifteen minutes beforehand.

Little Free Libraries

 In the beginning—2009–Todd Bol of Hudson, Wisconsin, built a model of a one room schoolhouse as a tribute to his mother, a former school teacher who loved reading.  He filled it with books and put it on a post in his front yard. His neighbors and friends loved it.  He built several more and gave them away.  Each one had a sign that said FREE BOOKS.

Rick Brooks, of the University of Wisconsin-Madison,  saw Bol’s do-it-yourself project while they were discussing potential social enterprises. Together, the two saw opportunities to achieve a wide variety of  goals for the common good. Each brought different skills to the effort, Bol as a creative craftsman experienced with innovative enterprise models and Brooks as a youth and community development educator with a background in social marketing.

Gwadar Port, the Future of Pakistan

 Currently, Pakistan has two main operating international deep-sea ports: Karachi Port and Port Qasim. During the coming years, their capacity expansion programs are unlikely to keep pace with the expected growth in demand, resulting in a need for a third port to fill the gap.

In particular, Karachi Port has significant physical limitations and will not be able to grow at the same speed as the national growth in demand over the coming decades. These limitations result mainly from its location, which is within the city of Karachi itself, which has seen very rapid growth over the past years.

The Storm

Written By: Maryam Ahmed

“Can you hear that? ” Madeleine drew the curtain and looked at Aunt Anastasia.
“What ? I can hear nothing Maddy.”Aunt Anastasia muttered.
“There is something in the fiery wind, as if the storm coming noise.”

Aunt Anastasia didn’t look but said politely “Its not gonna come before winter dear and if it is we are going to leave the village.”

That answer wasn’t enough to satisfy her but she smiled, nodded her head and took her small step towards her room. She knew they have nowhere to go. At least her, she lived in this tiny village for generations. Such winter storm caused so many people to die, so did her mother. Last year the cruel vehement winter storm took her mother away. Nobody talked about it, nobody said anything about the people who are no longer found in the village. And its gonna come again, She knew it. She have seen the colors of cloud changing with every sun set. She heard blind Seth whispering the words every night in the church.

The Unseen

 

Written By: Bariyah Faisal

The sight that remained unseen

The feelings that remained unexpressed

The images in my mind are shattered

My thoughts are all jammed

My lungs clogged

My heart bleeds,

My pen rebels

I am an illusion

Not visible to anyone.   

Stand Still

I always thought, I got to go far. 

Far from my place, 

Out of my shades, 

Without this permanent security,

To the insecurity...

It could only open my eyes,

Sizle my opinion,

Shape my mind.

By meeting people, 

Sharing our visions, 

Confronting thoughts, 

Be part of a caravan. 

But in fact, 

You can stand still and progress. 

You can reach mountains' peaks 

Explore darkest oceans, 

Dare-you think !

It's a matter of responsibility,

Of senses,

Of realizing your position, 

And handling them as they should be. 

You don't need to go far. 

Oh no. 

Just stand still and realize. 

The most of unknown is hidden in you,

Explore you heart,

Explore your thoughts,

Confront what you shun,

Must you go at the antipodes to find answers?

Believe in Magic

She finds the world so beautiful, so pure, she's so naive. She's got that little heart that keeps on saying believe in magic. She's an angel that came from heaven never complaining always smiling. She's an angel. She's my angle - Rabiya

Finding Words

Written By: Rameeza Ahmad

Finding words, it’s getting so hard

.

Trying to remember without falling apart.

Things are the same, things are new.

Maybe it’s me or maybe it’s you.

Maybe it’s us or the what we want to be.

I don’t want to know, I don’t want to see.

Things are better, things are worse.

Life is a song and I’m singing a new verse.

Breathing is hard and pain hurts a lot.

Maybe I should have stayed, stayed and fought.