Monday, April 20, 2009

Son of Adam Vs. God

I was sitting among the unbelievers. Unbelievers everywhere I looked. Their was a lot of show and drama going on. They were singing and called it WORSHIP but I knew what it actually meant to worship! I was still steadfast to my belief but the Devil kept whispering into my ear! He kept telling me to listen to him.

BUT...on my right ear I heard a voice of God Himself! The most sweet sound I have ever heard! The voice was enough to bring tears in my eyes and to make my faith stronger.

Oh Son of Adam, you asked me to tell you what is right! I told you what is wrong! See what is going around you and think what is wrong. I created you but would you turn away from them the way they did? I crafted you with my own hands which is more difficult than the way an artist makes a sculptor and I love you more than the way a mother loves her child after bearing him for nine months. I took care of you every moment since I made you. You asked me for a car and I gave you a job. You asked me for help and I gave you a friend. You asked me for satisfaction and I gave you family. You asked me for love and I gave you children. You asked me for better jobs and I gave you better education. You asked me for protection and I gave you mother. You asked me for blessings and I gave you a father. You asked me for strength against you renemies, I put you with strong enemies so that you may become stronger You asked for food and I gave you rain. You are fortunate and many are not. Thus, in this time of test will you forsake me? Will you deny the shadow of my hand over your head and start singing and crying like these ignorants who think I would like to be worshipped with music and songs. I only like to be worshipped from within your hearts and not from your mouth with a devil's tongue!

Saturday, April 11, 2009

Don't knock the door

I once read an Urdu novel with the title DASTAK NA DO (Don't knock the door) and it inspired me to write this story somewhere in 2006...I am just transfering it from page to technology and shortening it.

She was standing there. And I was far away. She was standing there at the bus stop with a swarm of people around her like a bee hive-unconcerned and busy. And I was standing here, far away with my rich friends around me who would give ther life for me. A distance existed between us, a social distance and a cultural distance. I never believed in love at first sight but it is ironic how a thief can turn into a priest and how a priest can turn into a thief. But it couldn't be love. It just couldn't be. Its just a fantastic concept over-exagerrated by stories, movies, poems and songs. How can someone like me be ever involved in a chidish thing called love. I just sat in my car and drove away.

I couldn't sleep anymore. What was it? Why was it? Why is love considered the most beautiful thing in the world yet it is so painful and torturous? My once satisfaction-filled dreams are stolen by a poor girl who I don't even know. She was ordinary looking yet so extraordinary! What was it about her that snatched me away from my carelesness and changed me in a moment. How can a rebel like me change so easily? That is how my nights were spent after that day, questions racing through my mind like eagles soaring towards the ground to catch its prey. I was disturbed and confused. I decide to find her. What a typical start of the love story! It was crazy i knew that well.

I find her at the same bus stop. I park my car far away. She was standing there and this time i was closer to her. I stand by her, she ignores. "Where does this bus go?" I ask. "To the city market." She replies. And then starts what a poet would call a true love story. I would meet her everyday and we would talk about everything. Yet I never expressed her my love nor did she see me in that sense. We were friends and I was more than content with her company. Everyday I would stand in front of the mirror and promise myself to tell her about my feelings but somewhere in my heart I was waiting for something-waiting for a sign from her. I was afraid that I may lose her forever, a dilemma faced by every lover. I decided never to knock the door. Stay quiet and be friends. There was still a distance I could never shorten. What else could one do who never used to believe in love?

Like every love story, there is always a twist that changed the whole direction of the story. She stopped showing up at the bus stop. I never knew her home! How could I be so stupid? I would wait thereeveryday yet she never showed up. What to do? Where to go? OH THE MADNESS AND THE PAIN! Everyday I would imagine her silky hair like a stream of water brushing against my cheek, her breath like spring breeze caressing my hair. I could not sleep, could not even dream about her. I picked the knife and did what I could do to get rid of my pain.

She had died in an accident after meeting me one day and departed from this world leaving behind a secret lover who killed himself. Indeed they met somewhere in the other world and would have blamed each other for never knocking the door!

Wednesday, April 1, 2009


I have played quite a few pranks over here with some American friends.

One of them was to write HAPPY BIRTHDAY all over Brooke's car and 'Food Wrapped' her whole car using a few rolls of clear food wrap. That was hilarious. The expressions were pricelss once she saw it! It took the elements of spying plus speed plus accuracy plus brains to pull this one off!

Another recent one was when Marcelo and I were going with Kent to an old lady's house to play some games and have dinner. Her name was Mary Spears. Now, the problem was that she had a very nosy neighbor (another old lady) who would spy on all of her neighbors all the time. Guess what we did to her! Me and marcelo walked up to her house and rang the bell. She opened the door and I said "ARE YOU THE ONE WHO ASKED FOR THE ESCORT SERVICE?" Escort is a more polite word for hooker (in this case, 2 handsome male hookers from Pakistan and Brazil). hearing this, she was shocked and said "NO NO I DIDN'T ASK FOR ANY!" At this Marcelo (my Brazilian brother) said, "AREN'T YOU MARY SPEARS?" And the old lady immediately says, "OH MARY SPEARS LIVES ACROSS THE STREET IN A GREEN HOUSE!" The only purpose of this was to test her NOSINESS and stimulate it further. In a matter of seconds, the news spread throughout the neighborhood old ladies that Mary Spears asked for two young, handsome male ESCORTS. Now, her curiousity could not keep her from calling Mary Spears and getting further details. So she calls and goes on, "WHY DID YOU ASK FOR YOUNG ESCORTS?" ANd Mary Spears replies, "OH BECAUSE THEY ARE CUTE!"

Well, we had to tell her that it was a prank. If I was Mary Spears, I would have never told her that it was a prank just to increase her curiosity and spying over the next few weeks!


How difficult it is to raise a child, how difficult it is to create a life, but how easy it is to take it all away! IN A SECOND!

Death has always fascinated me. As most of my fascination lies in mysteries. The brain, the universe and death are the three most mysterious phenomena.

"Death seems so fascinating.
You live miserably.
And then die peacefully."

Depressing? Garbage?

Someone told me that I only write depressing stuff in my blog! Well, I cannot help it. The olden golden days of pen and paper are gone when people would write even under the moonlight. I still cannot write unless I have a pen in my hand and a paper beneath it and thousands of thoughts running like a stream in my head. But when I sit down on the computer, my thoughts just vanish! I feel like an idiot with my hands on the keyboard. This frustration turns into anger and in turn the anger makes me write depressing stuff that further angers me! Moreover, I have lost my flow of writing since August... Where has my creativity gone? Where has my philosophically beautiful phrases vanished? I know where! In the dark realm of technology!

You see again I started writing rubbish! GARBAGE GARBAGE GARBAGE!

Those people who know me, they know that I am too lazy...Too lazy to even type my written stuff on computer. And some of those people even know that I do not like to share my written material. Its just that I prefer to keep my thoughts to myself! As half of the time they are completely absurd!

See, garbage again!