Misery

 Written By: Rameeza Ahmad

I breathe but its hard to even go on.

You keep on appearing even though you were gone.

You left me alone, left me undone.

My heart in pieces, you decided to run.

My ego shattered, I’m so confused.

You promised me forever, just us two.

But now its broken, it can’t be changed.

I’m trying to move on and you’re to be blamed.

You keep playing, keep messing with my head.

I’ll never forget all the things that you said.

It still hurts when I think about you.

My eyes fill up even though were through.

You think its okay to make me believe.

But one day I’ll be gone and all you’ll have is misery.

Questions to the Answers

For a change, I am in a good mood, actually happy. I know this won't last long and that the next day, or maybe the next hour something will happen and can change my mood again.

Well, anyways.

--------------------

 

It was a pleasant morning and I was out for a walk on the beach, there was this old couple sitting on a bench talking to each other. It was such a lovely sight, just like some movie. (reminded me of The Notebook) I was adjusting my cellphone's camera when they saw me and smiled.

A Perfect Day

Passing by the world, mind full of thoughts. 

Thoughts of a perfect day. 

Wind blowing away the fears, smell of freedom to enlighten it up. 

Those words, the perfect lyrics to make it all better. 

Those are the times I keep remembering everytime. 

- Words by Rabiya

Unwanted

 Written By: Rameeza Ahmad

My happiness is marred with sad tears.

My life is scarred by selfish fears.

My love is covered with unwanted hate.

My life is nothing but ugly fate.

My smiles are built with uncertain thoughts.

My secrets are sealed by indigenous plots.

My heart is filled with remorse and regret.

My life feels like an unpaid debt.

My time is spent just gasping for breath.

My world is ruled by unwanted threat.

That Mysterious Girl

 Written By: Tehreem Jehangiri

In the meadows far away

I met a girl passing through the fields.

There was something about her that made me follow

Was it the way her blonde hair , entangled with the summer air

She went on like a walking poem .

And I found myself drowning in her deep Blue eyes .

Her beauty , it was unparralelled to any other.

She was a mystery .

Her smile ...

It Portrayed fear , her eyes spoke discontentment.

Little did I know ,her answers lay way beyond a man could possibly know.

She hid behind a Veil, all that was obvious was her Smile and the happiness she had painted upon herself

I followed her and the path down it lead down her eyes

I found sorrow hiding Deep down

I anxiously went on walking on that endless path

finding nothing but hurt words and bruises

I came to the end of the road which connected to a sea of tears.

I lost myself on my way back

She was bearing way too much.

It inspired me ...

The the way she was walking against the harsh wind, The way she dealt with it The way she pushed aside the sharp stalks of life

Can't we all be like that?

She beared it all , why can't we?

In the meadows far away

I met a girl passing through the fields ~

Forced Feeding and Fattening Tradition in Mauritania.

This may sound bizarre, but it is true that African men do love fat women. This may have a legacy implication. In Africa, being fat has only one nuance: wealth. And parents pass this indulgent down the generations. A culture in Cross River State of Nigeria, West Africa, demands that a young bride be kept in a native fattening facility to be fattened prior to her wedding day.

A similar tradition is in Mauritania where Young girls are traditionally force-fed and fattened for the sake of beauty and marriage. Heavier girls and women are viewed as beautiful, wealthy and socially-accepted while their slimmer counterparts are considered inferior and bring shame on their families in Mauritanian society.

Man and God

 Written By: Maryam Hasan

Man is flawed, man is weak,

Man knows not his place to be;

Man cries in pain, man hides his tears,

Man knows not whats meant to be;

He is weak to love, he is weak to emotions,

Man controls not how his heart is to beat.

Man is drawn to the blinding worldly lights,

like a moth to a flame,

Little does he know though,

this world can never quench his thirst with all the money and the fame.

His worldly, material love for things will never go away,

it shall keep on increasing by the day;

Until he kneels to the ground and says His name,

That’s when he knows he has found a way;

Placing his forehead on the ground, he changed his fate,

Yes, in Sujood, he found his peace.

The message is quite simple, though not easy to grasp,

Running after the world will only earn you His Wrath;

For it is nothing but exhaustion,

It is endlessly running round in circles,

Whereas His Love can take you breathtaking places;

He shows you His Light, He shows you His Mercy,

And He is the only One for Whom striving for is truly worthy.

All About Steven Gerrard

Gerrard or Stevie G as he is called, is a natural central midfielder who can play in other positions with equal aplomb. He loves to make darting runs from the center of the park into the striking area and his long range passing and shooting, coupled with his tackling ability makes him a player every manager would love to have in their side.

Early Life.

Born in Whiston, Merseyside, Gerrard started out playing for hometown team Whiston Juniors, where he was noticed by Liverpool scouts. He later joined the Liverpool Academy at the age of nine. Gerrard then had trials with various clubs at fourteen, but his success wasn't immediate — Gerrard never made it into the England schoolboys' team. Gerrard's trials included Manchester United, which he claimed in his 2006 autobiography was "to pressure Liverpool into giving me a YTS contract." He signed his first professional contract with Liverpool on 5 November 1997.

How to Offer Namaz

Time to Move on from ' Former Greats '

This article was written for The Express Tribune, and the original post is here.

Most people will agree that Pakistan cricket has produced countless greats over the past 60 years; from Hanif Muhammad to Shahid Afridi (or Younis Khan, for those who will argue on Afridi), our history is filled with top class players.

Most people will also agree that cricket has changed a lot over the past 15 years, so much so that one fails to understand how something can change so rapidly. The sport has moved away from the dull and boring Test matches, which would end after five days (sometimes, without any definite win), and has become more exciting with the advent of One Day International (ODI) matches and three-hour-long Twenty20 (T20) matches that leave us at the edge of our seats, biting our nails in anxiety and exhilaration.

Pakistan cricket, too, is going through some interesting changes these days. A new selection committee has already been formed while people for key positions – such as head coach, batting and spin bowling consultants and fielding coach – are being searched.

Sacrifice

By Ha-Meem HUSSAIN, France.

This story is about a sacrifice.

About a sacrifice all migrants make. 

To loose their identity and get one fake*.

To uproot themselves, taking risk to get dry, 

Out of water and eventually die.

The sacrifice to loose their family contacts, 

To have no childhood friend left,

To settle abroad and cope with language barriers, 

Switch their profession to a menial one, 

Toil hard to meet ends of their months.

This story is about the hybrid status, 

Be ambinational, but part of none.

I feel nostalgic about my feasts, 

About the sound Urdu made, 

About the games we used to play, 

About my culture, about it's ways, 

About the azan that filled the atmosphere.

I am both,  and simultaneously one.   

All About Luis Suárez

On a street corner in the town of Salto in Uruguay, someone has gone to the considerable effort of finding a ladder, climbing up it and Sellotaping the name 'Luis' over the first word of the street name. It used to read Joaquin Suarez.  Now it pays homage to the most famous man to hail from Salto, the man who currently is the best footballer in the world.

Suarez was one of seven children born to his father Rodolfo, a porter, and his mother Sandra, a housewife. Perched on the banks of the River Uruguay on the border with Argentina, Salto is a town of cobbled streets and parks. The locals often sip — a herbal drink similar to tea — in little clusters in the street.

But when Suarez was just six, Rodolfo’s work took the family to the capital Montevideo. The move saw him start playing the game that would turn him into a millionaire, national hero and hate figure.

Journey to Friendship

Written By: Erum Ali

 In search of friends
Preparing the prelude
Stepped outside
Crushing the solitude

The journey seemed pretty
Destination Alluring
Expectations went grand
Curiosity kept rising

Driven ahead
Met my first friend-a so called friend.
Shared moments
Until the relationship was dead.

Determined to fresh start
kept on moving wholly
Tried a new path
Clashed a new ally.

The history repeated
Companions left
Deceited and cheated
I Cried and wept.

The journey drilled a lesson
Expect nothing but give
Being your own best friend
Would trigger you to live~

Edward Snowden, The Dark Prophet

To avoid surveillance, the first four Americans to visit Edward Snowden in Moscow carried no cell phones or laptops. They flew coach on Delta from Washington with tickets paid for by Dutch computer hackers. After checking into a preselected hotel not far from Red Square, they waited for a van to pick them up for dinner.

None could retrace the ride that followed, driven by anonymous Russian security men, nor could any place the side door of the building where the trip ended. They passed through two cavernous ballrooms, the second with a painted ceiling like the Sistine Chapel, and emerged into a smaller space with salmon-colored walls and oil paintings in golden frames—like Alice in Wonderland, remembers one of the group. There at the bottom of the rabbit hole, in rimless glasses, a black suit and blue shirt with two open buttons at the collar, stood the 30-year-old computer whiz who had just committed the most spectacular heist in the history of spycraft.

Talking to Myself

I have just opened my eyes and it is raining outside, I can hear the rain drops striking my window and I feel like going out and enjoy the rain. Call it a coincidence but 'Rain Over Me' is playing on the iPod. Not a song that helps you enjoy the rain more but still fits the code. (Fits the code eh, so Dexter Morgan-ish)

There is so much to write about, so many exciting things that are happening in my life these days. But then I end up writing about the same things again and again.

Maybe I have written about all the things there are? I mean what is there in life to write about except a few specific typical topics? Friendship, love, trust, cricket, food. My daily routine. umm that's about it.

Strange mood it is, there is this urge to write about good happy things in a funny way, but the mood tells me to write about something serious, sharing my thoughts and talking to myself. YES. Talking to myself.

Okay now I realized how boring my life is.

Or wait .. no it is not boring. There is a lot happening but don't know why I don't want to share it. I want to keep my things to myself not for anyone or everyone to read. Wow that's strange too, I was never like this.

But I just don't want to.

This fear that if you'll share good things with people they'll get ruined. This fear that if you'll share the bad things that happen in your life, they'll get worse. Am I superstitious or what. Anyways I will not share them this time at least.

I want to change the world. I have been looking for that one breakthrough that'll help me achieve my aim in life. I have tried so many things until now. Charity work. Social work. WWF. Youth Movements. Helping and talking to poor little kids (which by the way gives me the most satisfaction and happiness) working for PTI, but that internal satisfaction is not there.

The one reason I find is that maybe I want things to happen too quickly, even when it doesn't work that way. There are so many problems, so many of them which take decades to be solved. Maybe I should tell myself that one day when something good will happen from something I was a part of, I'll be a satisfied person. For now I am not.

Maybe I should just try and do the minor things now. The good minor things? Making people smile, helping them, being there for them, helping a gardner while he is working, buying something for the old aunt that lives nearby all alone, playing with the kids more than I do.

Umm maybe I should start offering prayers and reciting the Holy Quran. Maybe that'll give me the internal satisfaction. (?)

Or maybe I should go to a nearby water fall and jump into the water? Maybe I should swim more, maybe I should paraglide. Just get rid of all the fears there are, if there are.

Maybe I should close my eyes and start a dream world of my own where everything is just perfect? You can edit the mistakes you make, start all over? But then I will open my eyes sometime.

I also just noticed, nothing in these above paragraphs include sharing my thoughts with someone else. Sometimes there is this feeling that I am better off with aliens instead of humans.

This is so senseless. But I just don't know, in any case me making sense to myself is a rare event.

One things is for sure, I am gonna go back to being myself. That helps actually, it really does.

What am I even writing? People may think I am a sad soul who has had several bad experiences (I haven't) .... wait? Should I care about what people think? I do think a lot about what people think. I should not. 

Hahah or maybe it is just that I think too much, observe too much. Maybe everything is fine? Maybe that is how life is for everyone, maybe I should just be a part of this world and the life everyone lives, let it take over me so I can spend the rest of my life as a robot.... Or maybe I should stop living an already robotic life? Idk. 

Alone

 

Written By: Rameeza Ahmad

Room full of people but you feel all alone.

Living in a place that doesn’t feel like home.

Staring at faces strangely familiar.

Hearing phrases all so similar.

Forgotten by who, to you meant the most.

Haunted by their presence like a ghost.

Cut off like you never meant anything.

Feeling like you are and were nothing.

Trying to live with brave resolve.

Nothing seems to work so why not just let life dissolve

Life of Ariel Sharon

Ariel Sharon was an Israeli military leader and politician who was elected prime minister of the country in 2001, serving until 2006.

Synopsis

Born on February 27, 1928, in Kfar Malal, Palestine (now Israel), Ariel Sharon was a key player in Israeli military operations for decades, inspiring debate over the ethics of his tactics. Founder of the Likud Party, Sharon served in Parliament and became minister of defense in 1981, later taking on other posts. He was elected prime minister in 2001 and served until 2006, upon suffering a stroke. After eight years in a coma, Sharon died on January 11, 2014 at the age of 85.

Forever is a Lie

You said I'll love you forever. I knew forever is too good to be true. I believed in you and in your words, I wish I didn't because now I am just living with the thought of you saying forever's a lie and I am the fool - Words by Rabiya.