Saturday, September 28, 2013

the pleasures we so easily miss

As I was not feeling well , I decide to rest for a while. After a while my two daughters came and started playing besides me. I wanted to order them to just leave me alone. But I somehow resisted. I am glad I did. After a while, my three year old daughter came and asked me “what happened?” .I told her that  I was not feeling well. She said:’ You will get ok. Just hold my hand’.
She kept holding my hand gently but firmly while playing with the other hand.

Amidst all the yelling, shouting and ordering we miss all the little pleasures that God has sent for us. These are little gifts that forever remain unopened with our  impulse to yell at every small thing they do.

Thursday, August 29, 2013

Someone is looking up to you!

Can we even count how many times we utter these sentences to our child:
' I do not have time for this right now''
'Not now please...go and play!'
'Read the book yourself..I am sleepy '
'Why are you scared?there is nothing to be scared off..silly! go and get it yourself'
'Shhh..go.....I am watching T.V'

God made us a parent ...He made us  responsible for little ones..Why? Because they are  too small....they look up to us for their needs....and time will come when we would look up to them.
We owe our time to them.Read with them, play with them and most importantly listen to them.

Love them before they no longer they need it.
Listen to them before they find another listener.
Talk to them before they give up on you.

I would like to share this article with  so every parent realizes how special this time is.
No more oatmeal kisses by Erma Bombeck
A young mother writes: “I know you’ve written before about the empty-nest syndrome, that lonely period after the children are grown and gone. Right now I’m up to my eyeballs in laundry and muddy boots. The baby is teething; the boys are fighting. My husband just called and said to eat without him, and I fell off my diet. Lay it on me again, will you?”
OK. One of these days, you’ll shout, “Why don’t you kids grow up and act your age!” And they will. Or, “You guys get outside and find yourselves something to do . . . and don’t slam the door!” And they won’t.
You’ll straighten up the boys’ bedroom neat and tidy: bumper stickers discarded, bedspread tucked and smooth, toys displayed on the shelves. Hangers in the closet. Animals caged. And you’ll say out loud, “Now I want it to stay this way.” And it will.
You’ll prepare a perfect dinner with a salad that hasn’t been picked to death and a cake with no finger traces in the icing, and you’ll say, “Now, there’s a meal for company.” And you’ll eat it alone.
You’ll say, “I want complete privacy on the phone. No dancing around. No demolition crews. Silence! Do you hear?” And you’ll have it.
No more plastic tablecloths stained with spaghetti. No more bedspreads to protect the sofa from damp bottoms. No more gates to stumble over at the top of the basement steps. No more clothespins under the sofa. No more playpens to arrange a room around.
No more anxious nights under a vaporizer tent. No more sand on the sheets or Popeye movies in the bathroom. No more iron-on patches, rubber bands for ponytails, tight boots or wet knotted shoestrings.
Imagine. A lipstick with a point on it. No baby-sitter for New Year’s Eve. Washing only once a week. Seeing a steak that isn’t ground. Having your teeth cleaned without a baby on your lap.
No PTA meetings. No car pools. No blaring radios. No one washing her hair at 11 o’clock at night. Having your own roll of Scotch tape.
Think about it. No more Christmas presents out of toothpicks and library paste. No more sloppy oatmeal kisses. No more tooth fairy. No giggles in the dark. No knees to heal, no responsibility.
Only a voice crying, “Why don’t you grow up?” and the silence echoing, “I did.”

Saturday, July 27, 2013

Karachi: The city by the sea

  Blaring horns of over loaded buses , deadly traffic, ever crowded bazaars, beggars with their new trick every day, roads which can get flooded with just an hour of heavy rain..
all of this happens in Karachi. But when you close your eyes and think about can see and feel…
Heavy breeze which encapsulate you fully..and captures every essence of you..
shiny colorful buses whose conductors prefer to shout ‘double hai’..instead of tapping the bus two times to signal the clear way..
Sunday bazaars…zainab market..which have a charm of their own
the craze for roll paratha….
addiction to chaai
the city with the best biryani..
spicy chaat..
Aagha's juice..
Ami's pan...
the language of ‘abay yaar’..
the magnificent beach..
 The glittery silver sand which sticks with you for days..
the powerful waves which take away your sorrows..
If you have lived there can never ever disown Karachi.
Karachi has a magnetic gravity which pulls you towards itself with all its force!  And every time you leave just know that you have to come back...The city does not requests you to come knows you will!

Monday, June 17, 2013

The PERFECT home…!

‘Feel  at home’. ‘Home sweet home’…’there is no place like home’
So what is so special and perfect about home? Spotlessly clean? Aesthetically  decorated? Perfect food right on time? Or on the contrary ..everything  is just fine as it is.
After forced conversation and strained smiles throughout the day...the moment you enter home you are free! Free to  throw your shoes where ever you want. Free to put your feet up, play loud music..sing on top of your voice or say nothing at all. You are free to toss that fork away…and eat anyway you like!
There is nothing more comfortable than kicking off the perfect and fashionable shoes that killed your feet all day or releasing yourself of that branded tie that felt like a rope around your neck at the end of the day. It is home where you do not have to be perfect!
So after all… may be  little imperfections are what  make the home so perfect!

Friday, May 10, 2013

Be counted

 "Fear less the label of 'crackpot' than the stigma of conformity. And on issues that seem important to you, stand up and be counted at any cost....!"(Thomas J. Watson Jr.)

Lets forget our differences and vote for people we find suitable!!..
Lets forget our difference and pray not for our leader..but a sincere leader for Pakistan..!

Lets not stick to our beliefs without pondering over..
Lets vote for Pakistan!
Lets hope for Pakistan! 
Lets pray for Pakistan!
We have suffered a lot .....we have to rise
Do not waste your vote...stand up and be counted at any cost!

(P.S.and if you do not bother about voting...kindly keep quiet for five years:)

Tuesday, April 2, 2013


Sometimes we are so out of touch with our loved ones ...that one day they remain no more.Right at that moment...memories from the past  rush into your mind...then comes the regrets of not taking out time .....
It is like ignoring the heroes throughout their lives and awarding them the day they die.
Why not cherish people when they are living?Why not tell them in their life that they are special.....Kind words and appreciation are better than any gift in the world.
Celebrate the people around you.

Tuesday, February 19, 2013

a letter to Pakistan

Dear Pakistan …
I miss you..! Do you remember I used to visit you every year? Every day I looked forward to the summer vacations …to the day I would fly to you. The word ‘fun’  was attached to you.
All the feeling and emotions would pop up the word ‘Pakistan!’ .
I had all the luxuries which you could expect in a foreign country  but the warmth of relations  was only felt when I stayed with you.
 Late night outings ,cricket matches ,crazy cousins ..all were part of the bubbly and memorable trips on your soil. The uncontrollable laughter magically captivated us. We loved you and wanted to be with you forever.
Today, I live with you  and yet I miss you.
I miss the good old ‘Pakistan’. I remember your ‘ city of lights.It was  my favorite. Its all dark and gloomy now. It smells of blood. All I can see is scared eyes .There are only two kinds of people left. Scared and barbaric.
Every news is heart breaking. Being optimistic is becoming difficult each day. Every day  a hope shatters.
Innocent lives are laid down . We promise ourselves that these sacrifices will not go to waste. But they do. Things do not change. Each day has a new horrific story to tell.
I miss the ‘botal wali coke’. We used to get our deposit back on returning the bottle. Time changed.The bottle started being used as a weapon in universities.
I remember the long list of visitors from morning to night. Today every visit and phone call alarms me. ’Is everything fine?’
A little delay in someone’s flight forces me to switch on the t.v. My heart starts to beat faster when I receive a phone call from my child’s school. I silently pray for her safety before picking up the phone.
As I am writing these lines, I have tears in my eyes. I terribly miss you Pakistan.! I wish to see you rise again.I want to see you beautiful again ….without  intolerance, without  hatred …without barbarism.
I miss the peaceful Karachi beach. Recalling the soothing wind there can work as a medicine for me even now. The sand stuck in your head for weeks, eating  biryani with a bottle of coke, sitting for hours in the cool sea . I close my eyes and think about you. I can smile now.
Pakistan! You will rise. You have to. You have given us so much. Please do not take it back. I want to be mesmerized by you once again.
Yours truly,