About Me

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

What are you ?

So, I was reading this story and it took me so deep into it then I totally forgot about the KEBABS that I'd left in the pan over the stove!!!!
And here I am having those "burned KEBABS" and posting the same story to you all, so that you, too, could get the valuable message in it.

CAUTION: CHECK THE IF THE BURNERS ARE TURNED OFF! IN CASE YOUR KITCHEN RUNS INTO A FIRE DO NOT BLAME ME!

WHAT ARE YOU ?
‎"A young woman went to her mother and told her about her life and how things were so hard for her. She did not know how she was going to make it and wanted to give up. She was tired of fighting and struggling.

It seemed that, as one problem was solved, a new one arose. Her mother took her to the kitchen. She filled three pots with water and placed each on a high fire. Soon the pots came to a boil. In the first, she placed carrots, in the second she placed eggs, and in the last she placed ground coffee beans.

She let them sit and boil, without saying a word. In about twenty minutes, she turned off the burners. She fished the carrots out and placed them in a bowl. She pulled the eggs out and placed them in a bowl. Then she ladled the coffee out and placed it in a bowl. Turning to her daughter, she asked, "Tell me, what do you see?"

"Carrots, eggs, and coffee," the young woman replied. The mother brought her closer and asked her to feel the carrots. She did and noted that they were soft. She then asked her to take an egg and break it. After pulling off the shell, she observed the hard-boiled egg. Finally, she asked her to sip the coffee. The daughter smiled as she tasted its rich aroma. The daughter then asked, "What does it mean, mother?"

Her mother explained that each of these objects had faced the same adversity - boiling water - but each reacted differently. The carrot went in strong, hard and unrelenting. However, after being subjected to the boiling water, it softened and became weak.

The egg had been fragile. Its thin outer shell had protected its liquid interior. But, after sitting through the boiling water, its inside became hardened! The ground coffee beans were unique, however. After they were in the boiling water, they had changed the water.

"Which are you?" the mother asked her daughter. "When adversity knocks on your door, how do you respond? Are you a carrot, an egg, or a coffee bean?" Think of this: Which am I? Am I the carrot that seems strong but, with pain and adversity, do I wilt and become soft and lose my strength? Am I the egg that starts with a malleable heart, but changes with the heat? Did I have a fluid spirit but, after a death or a financial hardship, does my shell look the same, but on the inside am I bitter and tough with a stiff spirit and a hardened heart? Or am I like the coffee bean? The bean actually changes the hot water, the very circumstance that brings the pain. When the water gets hot, it releases the fragrance and flavour.

If you are like the bean, when things are at their worst, you get better and change the situation around you. When the hours are the darkest and trials are their greatest, do you elevate to another level? How do you handle adversity? Are you a carrot, an egg, or a coffee bean?"

 [Author Unknown]

Friday, October 14, 2011

JUST ONE !


JUST ONE

One song can spark a moment,
One flower can wake the dream,

One tree can start a forest,
One bird can herald spring.

One smile begins a friendship,
One handclasp lifts a soul.
One star can guide a ship at sea,
One word can frame the goal

One vote can change a nation,
One sunbeam lights a room
One candle wipes out darkness,
One laugh will conquer gloom.

One step must start each journey.
One word must start each prayer.
One hope will raise our spirits,
One touch can show you care.

One voice can speak with wisdom,
One heart can know what's true,

One life can make a difference,
You see, it's up to you!





Source unknown.

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Dada, a lovely grandfather !

Old people aren't like those useless furniture we put aside in some corner of the house, and they shouldn't be treated like so...We shouldn't even consider them like some lazy weak bones that rattle in the house 'cause they can't do anything at their own!
I have seen people whotreat their elders very badly-and I mean really very badly-and looking at the cruelty I ask myself : would I have done the same IF my grandparents were alive ? maybe its not in everyone's hands to go that wild and inhuman !
Our society must make it right and possible for old people not to fear the young or be deserted by them, for the test of a civilization is the way that it cares for its helpless members.
-Pearl  S. Buck
Somehow I do not intend to write about the old people just in this one blog, I can do that some other time maybe, but I only look forward to dedicate this post to that one particular man whose love has changed me, his love that I feel even after 18 years of his death...
My Dada (paternal grandfather) was some man I could never get to meet, and I consider myself very unfortunate because of that, he died 2 months after my birth...but I know he loved me...beyond the usual walls of love....loved me more than he had loved any other of his grandchildren or his children, well maybe anyone ! I could never really figure out the reason why he showed such admiration and concern towards me. Even till today, I ask myself the answer to what he really saw in me that could make him leave his routine works (as he was very punctual and responsible at everything) and just love me ? I don't know how I will get answers to these questions and many more such, as all these mysteries have been buried down in his grave with him-he liked keeping his belongings with him.Well, every man's deepest secrets are his true belongings that he'd never want to give away- Sometime just to give myself a temporary answer, I tell myself that he has left all these puzzles for me to  put together so that I may get to complete the whole picture -the picture of me, MY LIFE !

I've tried to gather all the information I could of my Dada just so that I could get a much clearer picture of him, besides the one loving, caring, peaceful, intelligent, simple and religious man, I know its not all that I have as there is A WHOLE LOT to know more...and I even know that I can not even try to comprehend even the 1%  of what he really was, but I'll still try to put down my feelings so that all those who have grandparents in their house realize what treasure they really posses when they pass through my post.
The day I was born, he was there at the hospital and when they gave me in his hands he became really happy...people often mention me the joy that struck him when he saw me, he then thanked God for sending me(here I'd like to add that communities/tribes/class like ours mostly give priority to sons, BUT my grandfather chose me to provide all his love with even though I had an elder brother and other male cousins who could have been the "prince" for him but he simple chose, what he calls, a princess) and then he went to my mother and told her in a very cheerful tone "waah ! what a beautiful daughter you've given birth to". A religious man like him would never let anything come between him and his religious obligations, but they tell me that he always came to my parents' room whether I was sleeping or awake or crying or whatsoever, and would kiss my forehead and only then head towards the mosque for his prayers...religious people don't change their route of the mosque just to show love to an infant child, he could have done that even after performing his prayers...
Today, I strongly feel his "can never be replaced" absence in my life, I can't stop imagining how great my life would have been having him alive and healthy...Every morning I would wake up early dazz down to his room and buzz in (just the carefree way I am) to greet him and start my day with a wonderful chat with him, have breakfast with him, then he'd come outside the house till the corner of the road just to wave me goodbye when I'd leave for my school/college/university/work, then come home and find him worrying cause I was mere 5 minutes late ! and to find that he hadn't eaten anything in lunch cause I was not there, then later in the evening he would help me regarding my studies/assignments/presentations etc. and before going to bed have a good and nice conversation with him, that would include all the religious,human behaviour, political and all such awesome topics that have some questions in my mind unanswered.AH ! how unfortunate I am that I have to eat my breakfast alone, find no one waiting for me for lunch, no one to help me in my stuff AND no one to clear my thoughts and misunderstanding so that I could go to sleep with an unconfused and non-perplexed mind.
Often I have dreams of him...dreams where he is with me, where he talks to me and helps me in all my queries, dreams that do not matter come whether I am sleep or awake.Somehow I have always felt his presence around me...I know he wont leave my side, after all he loved me unlike any other thing in the world. I have a picture of him in my wallet along with my daddy's picture(as he is second in my fav peoples list) and I take it wherever I go, I even have a picture of him just beside this computer on which I am typing all this story of him, but I hardly stop and look at it, not because of what a rush of things my life has become but because I do not want to start into tears and feel his absence yet presence in my life.

By profession he was a teacher, a very famous teacher in my village for his kindness towards kids and sincerity towards his work, AND that is the reason why I always have a strong respect towards any teacher today, according to him a teacher's job is not to just teach the course that he is obliged to complete in an academic year and take his salary BUT also to heal a student's soul and enlightened his heart and mind so that he could understand world here and hereafter and life a much much MUCH better life.


I am ending this post here as I do not like to cry thinking and talking about him, because he didn't want me to be a weak child and particularly because he would hate it most if I complain to God for his decisions and crying for him would mean so. He and I, both know that God chooses the best and He definitely has a very solid reason for taking him away from me.
:)


Beautiful young people are accidents of nature, But beautiful old people are works of art” 
-Eleanor Roosevelt

Saturday, October 8, 2011

love within the same gender is not always illegal, it sometimes is the depth of FRIENDSHIP

(a SILLY conversation with a much sillier friend, of the sillies one=me)
Me & Zeba:


I <3 you
aww
<3 you moree :P
no, i love you more
naaah :P
I love you more than I love chocolatess
i love you more than how much u love chocolates
haaaaaaha
I love you more than you love mee :P
i love you you alot more than how many times you would tell me that you love me
ufff behan
you loose !
2:31am
tum jeet gayeen per I lovee you
i love you too
end of story :P

Saturday, September 3, 2011

I rise

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own backyard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.




source: unknown

Monday, July 11, 2011

when people tell you how to talk, how to behave, how to act, what to wear, what to do, where to go,where not to be, when to laugh, when to shut up.....when?where?how?what?......to be precise JUST NEVER TO BE YOURSELF !
all that you feel is like a puppet whose ropes are in hands of others, a prisoner who can only do what his jailer commands, or perhaps a pet who does whatever his master tells him to.
but even the puppets' shows end, the prisoner gets freedom and even the pet can run, you just can't !!!!



"FREEDOM"




isn't it funny how non-living things and even animals can get it but you can't ???

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

my 18th !

what could be better than thanking ALLAH for blessing me with all these lovely 18 years ??? He is no doubt the greatest ! in all these years if there is something that I've really learnt then it is how to actually believe, trust and have faith in Him.


my 18th birthday and i am now an official "aurat" in the laws of the Islamic republic of Pakistan !

the beginning was awesome.thanks to my loveliest friend zobia who showed up right at 12:00 a.m with a cake-sort of a surprise party- and because of the awesome-est wish by my ever best friend baakh !
the day was fine.got over 100 birthday wishes. met my friend afifah.
the real lovely time was when me and my whole family had dinner together-something that is rare to happen now as everyone is busy in their lives and have a tight schedule to keep up to, watching everyone right in front of me was like a pleasure no other thing could bring me.
here 'd always like to thank my dad for all the "mehnat" he had to do to make my day the best.
i love you dad, i wish i get the strength to say that to you directly but i know i wont be able to and i also know that you dont need my words to know anything, you've been so perfect at understanding me, i just dont know how you do it, you know me more than i know myself.thank you for everything !

US = hum paanch !

okay so this post is solely dedicated to my loving family !!!!
mom, dad, rohail ( my elder brother ), gul ( my younger brother ) and me :DDD
thats why i call it a  "hum paanch" story !!!
we all are entirely different in looks, likes, opinions, decisions and what not ? but, still bonded to each other via heart !!!


DAD :
I'll start with my dad, not because he is the eldest, but because i love him the most....He is the most coolest, understanding and caring person I've known....i mean how many dads in this world listen to their wife's daily stories of their kids mis-behaving and still act totallaaaayyyyy chill about it ????? my dad does....He provides me with everything i want -so what if takes some time but still parents know the best when to give what to their kids- the only tiny problem is, he is not social :P but i know that does not effect my love for him....I really don't know if my brothers think the same about him, I mean I've seen my dad in so many phases....he doesn't speak to anyone much, but i don't think ears are needed to understand  someone's feeling or to see what they have in their minds. its mostly the ladies' habit to exaggerate, brag and talk everything out ! I have loved my dad for the personality he keeps.....and I try to be like him too, calm and cool.....I have so many childhood memories with my dad that i'd love to tell here....the best one is when i was in primary school. I was so ill but still I went to school -did I really love school at that time ? i don't know !- and unfortunately it started to rain so heavily and the temperature went really down, we were made to sit inside the classes and there i was watching the peons enter the class with a chit that had a student's name on it, it meant that his/her parents have arrived and want to take them home, and waiting and hoping someone would come to pick me up too but I had a feeling that nobody would because my parents have always taught us to fight the tough situations and make ourself strong enough according to the surroundings....but surprisingly my chit came, I stood from my place not knowing whether to scream in happiness or wait to hear teacher say "oopppss....its not yours, I read it wrong". I went out of my classroom all the way running down from those corridors just to see who had come....n there, what I saw will always be in my mind like a solid image that I would have just seen now, a big rush of people was there -all of them were parents of the kids, who had come to pick them- what surprised me more was that the administration had locked the gates and kept them out in the rain because they couldn't let such a big number of people enter the offices and scream "pehle humare bachay ko bula dain" I was so confused I didn't know what to do or where to go...I was scared and I wanted my dad and just then I saw a hand in that rush wave at me, it was my dad's.I ran as quickly as I could to him, he checked if I was okay and he asked me about my health, though I knew he was the one whose condition was not well, God knows how much time he had wasted there in that cold with those heavy drops of rain, and he did all that effort just to know if i was okay or not !!!!! :/
My dad loves me alot, i know that for sure, though he never tells me that but once again I must say that its not ears that are needed to know what lies in another person's heart !


MOM :
     eeeekkkkkkkk.....the toughest thing for me to do would be to describe my mom. she may seem strict, cruel, a perfectionist, punctual at almost everything type of lady but if you get closer to her heart you'll find her funny, adorable, extremely friendly and a full time tafree person BUT if you get really really REALLY closer to her heart you'll know how loving and caring and almost impossible to live without person she is !
hare are a few examples of her innocence:


1)
dad: main car repair karwane ja raha hoon.
mom: acha bike pe ja rahay ho ?




2)
(while having gosht)
me: mom there is a hair in my food
mom: baita bakray ka hoga !
me : o_0




3)
us: what's cooking mom ?
mom: dalya
us:what is a dalya ?
mom: daal ki behan !!!


and so many more stuff, like once she after recharging her cellphone she said "mera mobile bhari hogaya hai!" we were like "why ? what happened?" she answered "ziada load hogaya tha" :D
she is a bit superstitious as well, and thats what we enjoy the most about her.its fun telling her that nothing would go wrong if you pull someone's braid or if u go uunder a tree with open hair or if you take bath late at night :D or other such weird things...and i must add here that my mom is educated lady, you might not find such brains anywhere else.
i love it when she cares for me like once she knew i was hungry but still went to take bath first, she made me mangoshake and gaveit to me while i was inside and made drink all of it, and when i came out there was a lot of my favourate stuff that she had made ready for me
i am so lucky to have a mother like her, who taught me how to read and write and listen and behave and be honest and be loyal and so much more stuff that is needed to be a better daughter, sister, friend more precisely a human and a muslim !


MY TWO "IMOPSSIBLE TO LIVE WITH" BROTHERS :
I call them losers ( just to tease them ) my elder brother has been a real intelligent and hardworking sort of kid in the family, and a student who has always been awarded with the best outstanding shields every year in his school..my house is filled with his trophies and awards, while looking at them every time i promise him that one day i''' break all his records and go further than him -kinda hard- i am trying and i will till i do it !
my younger brother is much of a spoiled brat but i still love him for being so nice and helpful to me in everything ! he makes me happy when i am sad and can make me laugh hard no matter whatever has pissed me off ! that's his specialty !






enough with this post now!

Friday, January 7, 2011

me :D

I don't really know how to describe myself completely...you see, its not so easy for me to explain anything that i myself haven't understood yet !!!! but still i am gonna give it a try

  • Kinza --------->>>thats my official name, which was "selected" by my dad soon after my birth. it means "treasure" or as we say it "KHAZAANA" in Arabic !!! hmmmmmmmmm.....whats so "treasure-some" about me ???? dude, thats what i am still trying to figure out !
  • i was born on June 29th, 1993 - but my birth certificate says something else thanks to my dad to whom it didn't appear so important to put my ORIGINAL birth date in it !!! well, the brighter side is that i get a chance to celebrate my birthday twice a year !!!!
I am just me, half sane, half crazy, friendly, loving, kind, generous and some what stubborn too at times...
I know I am not a beauty queen but then again I am "me" whose simplicity is above all, i may not be the best one but i know for sure that there isn't anyone like me on this globe ! - now, do i sound obsessive ??? who cares !!!!!
i do whatever i like to do, and thats the reason that today even after making a zillion mistakes in my life i am still happy that i got to learn a countless things from them - oh ! that reminds me that i am determined too with whatever i do :P

That's all i could comprehend about me, you like me then let me know or else you'll find a "next blog" option on the top of this page, click it and move on I DON'T CARE !!!
thats the present me !