Back when I was a kid – in first grade. One fine evening, I was walking back to home in that strange infantile gait that I would prefer – with the gleaming joy hovering in my thoughts and a poem buzzing in the lips that our very nice ma’am Saffia taught that day. I would hum stuff then all the way from school to home habitually. It was a usual evening, kids were discontinuing their half-played-matches and leaving the park by our house, the Azaan-e-Maghrib was echoing all over the town, I reached home and dropped down my bag and waterbottle and handed my dad my report card, grinned widely like an almost stupid kid and stood before him with both hands in the pocket and a constant cute stare at him, a stare with some expectations, for I had a feeling of all that being a good omen. I didn’t know what it was all about; Dad the great and mom the great smiled back at me though their smiles were not like the usual ones, they were rather tensed and I could see that. They were really excited about that card like thing for some unknown reason I didn’t know back then. They were smiling and smiling one can say like “perpetually”. All at once, their smiles disappeared and my mom the great uttered something like, “uh-oh” and dad the great like, “this is not great!” And then they said 10^th! Yes, I stood 10^th in the very first examination of school I’d ever taken.

From that day on, I have a posture of that moment stilled back in a very special corner of my brain which I always recall when I study, for exams of course. After that very first examination, I’d always worked hard, and improved to the point that other kids’ parents would scold them and would tell them to be like me.

Yes. That boy was the same one that today, I saw in the mirror in the morning.

Except

I was a kid then.

Life was smooth then.

I was intelligent then.

I was confident then.

Blah.

Today, I recall it differently, because when I fell, Dad the great did not say “this is not great.” nor did my mom the great utter anything like, “uh-oh”. They were sad. That gesture. Period. Gesture is framed. So… blog, you know the rest of the story, right? … What? Aren’t you too smart to guess that?

I’m leaving you with this for an indefinite time period. Take care and be good to people. =) Allah Hafiz.

My hands are full at the moment and I don’t have much to do. I just don’t know who to listen to at this time. I have no routine, classes are off and we are free. I’m spending all my time cursing the malevolency of the books. The recent sabotage has scared me so gravely that I’ve started memorizing all the text written on the books. Yes, I’m an oddball and I’m happy with that, because I’m not the only one.

I always believed that I had no flair in what I’m studying and now as expected this thing is slipping out of the hands. The mere thought of the recent past gives me jim-jams. Umm… Frankly, this is not even a challenge for me for I know I can ace it swimmingly.

I don’t know why it happened to me in the first place. Okay, I confess, I screwed up things, but not to this point, I swear! …! Period. Time passed. No use to curse anything now.

Apart from all this, I’m improving a lot of things about me and trying to fit in the business-freaks-herd. While they walk, I will have to sprint up to where they have reached.

And… Everything is felicitous, life is worth it. No daze. No fog. No obscure-ness. No poetry. Even the winters are pleasurable. Almost two weeks ago, it seemed that everything was finished, but on the inside I knew it was the start. So, here I am. And it makes me laugh.

By the way, have I ever mentioned that I have the worlds’ most amazing friends? Most amazing Lord has given me a lot. But curse you mans’ ingratitude! I don’t get the time to even thank Him. Tsk Tsk. So… um that’s all. I have to watch some TV now.

With this, I bid you adieu.

P.S: This blogpost is the result of author’s horrible state of ennui and overdose of computer-related-theories.

P.S2: No hyphens? Cool.

P.S3: I’m going to get my NIC in a month! =D lol

I … failed.

I’m going to burst. For sure.

Dear God,

…

Yes,

I will not pray, no never.

Yes, God, I’m a complete rebel now.

D W Y W, I don’t care.

I T L D O M L

I quit.

Nothing worse can happen.

Than what you’ve been doing to me since the day I was born.

None knows the concept of uncontrollable tears.

Better.

I failed.

Unfair.

Very.

I don’t even need a bear hug.

Not even mom’s.

Say what you want to.

Hurt me.

For I failed…

I… quit.

Goodbye.

And if you ever see me laughing again.

Just don’t believe your eyes.

No more.

But no.

I am fighting.

For nothing again.

'Cause ...

Meager life, ample emotions –– and still it’s illicit. No, you can’t be happy for so long, no, you can’t be unhappy for so long. It’s illicit to live that way, you must fluctuate! You must fall, rise, lurch, dash, fall again and so on. And something known as “self-command” is a vague perception of nothingness, at least for me. I never felt it. Is it because I never wanted to be controlled by anyone even by me?

Karma, go to the blazes for all I care! Punishment is mine.

For I’m a fainéant being hence I must procrastinate it – again. I do not know what I am thinking, I do not know why I am thinking – whatever is – that I’m thinking, I do not know what I am doing and why I am doing and on a serious note, I do not want to know. Is it wrong? Whatever I’m thinking, for I can’t express it. Is it bad? ….. Is it normal? Or just forget it because you won’t understand.

Shillyshallying it again for I’m a fainéant being. Just give me the perfect cushion to fall for, I’m going to hell anyway.

***

Oftentimes, I really wish, life could be as easy as the table of 2. I remember when I was kid, how blithely I would sing, ‘two ones are two –, two twos are four’ and so on with a marvelous feeling that something on the face of the earth –– could be this much easy. But, it’s not the table of 2 –– it’s life.

Everyone face bruises, don’t you? [I want you to nod your approval here so that I might feel a bit sane] because I hear humans do. Martians do too, just look at me [=P].

Everyone build ‘castles-of-sand’ and only sometimes they don’t crumple.

I like how a lavender-crimson-red evening swirls away ––

Like that kite in folly –– eludes with the gale

Out of the reach – it floats – just as hope… so far

Like that only dainty pearl –– a whole star

As bumpy as a tarn, as prim as a skylark,

Sparking in the heavens as a solitary mark

I carved a heart in the wood – where I had come

And carved your name which shone like the sun

To my gratification, I ran my hands on it

Until night –– till the scar got imprinted

And now I behold the sky in evenfall,

It’s blurred…

I flapped my hand before the eyeball,

I rubbed…

But mayhap some stars in the whole sky––

Are too shallow for the reach of my sight…

–– B.H.

Smiling passively at the film of haunting past –– flashing in your mind before your eyes –– is the strangest thing in this world and yet it is the most beautiful. *smiles* as stunning as that illusive existence that erupts into reality right before your very eyes –– and flares an unendurable craving for a desire to be gratified. Only if we were not the two alike poles of a magnet –– in love but –– only to follow rites –– the universal law –– they repel each other.

Every time I feel at sea, I fall off…

Enough fallings off the edges... I should step back this time, step back and walk backwards towards the haunt and get overwhelmed with choler and grapple with the phantoms… claw their throats until they suffocate and burst into tears –– tears of painfulness and impuissance and finally batter them to death. I should walk backwards to make it to you…

Enough of our private theories… I’ve started thinking a lot. *smiles*

I give up before I even think about starting it. Such diffidence – I have not experienced.

There’s so much in grate to combust for –– that can lighten up the whole series of the darkest nights.

But still, there’s an invisible push –– the lethal weight pressing down on me like a rotten society’s slants that keeps one low –– low as a thrall, grasps one by one’s wings, plucks its feathers oftentimes and –– keeps one low, in the dwelling –– from flying.

The hands, –– as transparent as water, as mighty as a lion, as keen as an owl, as nimble as a deer, press me downwards in a hallow hole –– in an abyss so deep that it takes centuries to fall and once I fall painlessly, it presses down on me even more inside the shallow rubbles until I penetrate them and get swallowed up by the abyss and eventually forget –– everything I once remembered.

I’m done with hoping, I’m done with dreaming, I’m done with trying.

Let’s pretend now. “Look what I’ve found… A raw hope – a wingless bird!”

Let’s walk with it – till we part.

And because, it feels good… Somehow, it makes me want to walk. Somehow… someway, I like to walk, when I’m with you.

Such lonely lives in togetherness! Tsk! Tsk! Tsk!

And ultimately the push will say: “Cull the no-hopers from the herd!”

Help. Solace. Oh God. The push is mightier.

Aghast!