That was a dark night filled with the roars of the sky above

That was a dark night filled with the roars of the sky above. The bone chilling sounds of the thunderstorms were becoming more and more audible cuz of the particular silence of the night. The sound of the water drops hitting the window of her room and the specific petrichor that was going straight thorugh her nostrils and finally penetrating into her bones and veins forced her eyes to get opened wide. She rubbed her eyes, wore her slippers and ran towards the window of her room. She then moved the curtains away from the window that had become quite wet cuz of the heavy downpour. She, with a bright smile on her face, closed her eyes and inhaled the air to bless her lungs with the freshness of that night. She laughed at the fact that she was the only mental who could destroy her sleep during midnight just to see the rain outside her window. Ahhh.. the Pulviophile things! Suddenly the smile on her face turned into terror cuz of the frequent lightening and thuderstorms. That fear was not cuz of herself, that was cuz of the creatures outside her window. She started thinking about the last leaf striving not to get separated from its roots, the flowers getting parted from their parent flower pots and thrown away in the foreign lands, the dogs and cats running to find shelter, the birds...she remembered something from her school days... "Birds build their nests during spring to avoid unfavourable weather conditions" (The usual childhood cramming when we used to repeat the same sentence 100 times)...How smart. Isn't it? She then remembered something else that converted the expressions of admiration on her face to  realization.

 پرندے شجر کو سوکھتا دیکھ کر کہیں اور"

   آشیانہ بنا لیتے ہیں"

 (probably one of the lines her urdu teacher used to make her write in 'Ashaar ki tashreeh').

How innocent we were in our childood. Isn't it? Just cramming the things without realizing the depth of the meaning behind them. In the rememberance of her childhood, a sudden thought had blown her mind. She started naming the seasons one by one, Summer, Spring, Autumn, Winter. The four seasons. All these seasons belong to whom? She then started looking at the different branches of different trees, that were glittering cuz of mixed effect of rain and lightening, from her window. The same question arose in her mind. All these branches belong to whom? The answer was more vivid than anything in this whole world. All these things belong to the most Poweful, the Creator of this world and the world hereafter. "ALLAH". Just like birds we human beings change, our priorities change with the advancement of time, we are inclined towards the conditions more suitable for us. That's all natural. But wherever we go, the one who will always be with us is the Almighty. 

"ہر شجر، ہر موسم، سب حلات و واقعات، سب انسان ۔۔ ہر شے اللہ کی ہی ہے"۔ 

He is the only CONSTANT..! 

She covered the windows with the curtains and got back to her bed. She had learnt something new by the rainfall that night. That's why she had always loved the rain.

You are lucky enough when you find people making you happy unconditionally.

You are lucky enough when you find people making you happy unconditionally.

 Because in today's era, no one is that much sincere who can hold our pain for a moment when we need. Never lose those gems, they are your asset for happiness. We are going through a period where we think that our pain is bigger than everyone else.

 However, reality is beyond that. Some people share their worries and some just pretend to be happy and solve their problems at their own pace and will. When we genuinely see other people's pain, we will come to know that our pain is not that much bigger than others. We just need to see our blessings, we can't deny countless blessings just because of a tiny worry. That worry might not exist in reality, if we see it consciously. The ultimate purpose of our life is to make others happy regardless of any expectations. In fact, money cannot buy happiness, however, just to hold someone's pain is more precious than money. We human beings are living in the garden of emotions where we experience fragrance of happiness and also we face the attack by unwanted emotions. Thus, if we take care of others' pain and emotions, it will help us in planting the beautiful and aromatic feelings in our garden of emotions.

I always forget about routes because i never focus on them i guess

راستوں کی خبر نہیں؟ 

تو کیا دیکھتے ہیں بار بار؟

I always forget about routes because i never focus on them i guess. I focus noticing every single detail coming to my route, whether that is a vendor or a kid playing in a park, coming to my route, or a person purchasing flowers from a flower shop except the route itself because i try to figure out hidden stories from every smiling face. Sometimes, some faces get my so much attention that i feel captivated and keep staring them like i know them from so long. I know it's weird but some faces give you glimpse of someone else and a whole story starts repeating itself in your mind. It feels like that face clicked our episodic memory saved in the mid brain. 

Sometimes i try to find people who've lost in the fast race of this life and sometimes those people whom I've lost years before but want to meet them again at least once in my life. 

Whenever i see a pretty face, i admire that face and just tell the person that how pretty that person is because i don't know either I'll see that face again or not.

May be one day, this habit will help me to meet the person I'm trying to find from ages🥀

آپ حالات سے خوش ہوں یا نہ ہوں آپ کو مصنوعی خوشی کا اظہار کرنا آنا چاہیے

آپ حالات سے خوش ہوں یا نہ ہوں آپ کو مصنوعی خوشی کا اظہار کرنا آنا چاہیے۔۔حالات و واقعات سے چاہے کتنی ہی بار آپ مات کیوں نہ کھا لیں مگر آپ کے چہرے پر مسکراہٹ لازمی احاطہ کیے رکھے چاہے وہ مسکراہٹ جھوٹی ہی کیوں نہ ہو۔مسکرانے کا ہنر سیکھیے۔آپ کی زندگی میں زیادہ تر مشکلات آپ کے ارد گرد موجود لوگوں کی پیدا کی ہوئی ہوتی ہیں۔ایسے لوگوں کے سامنے حالات کا رونا رونے کی بجاۓ ان کے ساتھ بیٹھ کر کھل کر ہنسیں،قہقہے لگائیں تاکہ وہ آپ کو مات دینے کی کوشش میں خود اپنی ہار محسوس کرنے لگیں۔رونے دھونے سے کچھ نہیں ہوگا۔مسکرانا سیکھیے۔۔پریٹینڈ کرنا سیکھئے۔۔۔

I was a mere book-on which you wrote what you wanted to

I was a mere book-on which you wrote what you wanted to. Drew imaginations and pictures your mind painted. And when you filled all the pages, with yourself, your heart and your mind, it was time to entitle the very first page. For which you chose 'anjan'. 

This book you never owned shall remain in it's place where you left. Or may be taken away by wind somewhere else in someone else's hands. But its pages filled with paintings, and scribbles, and drawings, and sketches-shall always be yours. I fear say the future of this book haunts me. The book written by someone else, read by some other, and thrown in winds of time as if it were mere pages and not a heart, a human heart.

Sometimes, when you're lonesome, you feel like meeting other people

Sometimes, when you're lonesome, you feel like meeting other people. But those are a lot harder to find than it seems because a person is not a person just because you've met. They are a shapEykne of one, an outline, a potential for something that could be. Only through prolonged interaction, a conversation that slowly dissipates the fog surrounding their form, does an actual person reveal itself. And then, who knows if they would even want your company.

We leave the world a more beautiful,

We leave the world a more beautiful, a more colorful and a more loving place when we sow kindness generously and freely.

Because every act of kindness plants a seed. 🌱

Do we have the same creater?

: Do we have the same creater?

If the answer is yes than why we oppose the sayings of others.

Let me explain it for you.

When we do some wrong like "zina","deceiving","backbiting" and most of all "making others to feel inferiority complex".And some beloved of us comes and say that Quran don't allow us to do so ,we the so called Muslims start to oppose him.We start to explain him that nah nah "meri intensions wo ni thi". 

But we believe in Allah is one, Muhammad pbuh is the last prophet,we know that we have to say goodbye to this immortal world,we have faith in kiraman qatibeen.

The problem is very clear here,we defend our sins and don't believe in ayaat and ahadith in accordance to  our sins.

We are double coated,and that's fine to say that we have lost our iman.

There is an ayah in Quran which tafseer stands that:

"Ap quran ka ik hisa le kr dosry se mna ni kr skty".

There is no shadow of doubt that we are made from clay and we are mean to make mistakes,but doing sins intensionally and then don't have any repentance over it is just our disaster.

And there is another ayah:

"Allah loves those who regret and seek forgiveness".

Indeed a true repenter will find "sakoon" in this immortal world and hereafter.

کیا ضروری ہے کہ ہر بات کی تصدیق بھی ہو

وہ  جو  نزدیک  نظر  آتا  ہے  نزدیک  بھی ہو

تم  اگر  صاحبِ  رائے  ہو  تو  لازم  تو  نہیں! 

تم جسے  ٹھیک سمجھتے ہو وہ ٹھیک بھی ہو.

On the day I die a lot will happen. A lot will change

On the day I die a lot will happen.

A lot will change.

The world will be busy.

On the day I die, all the important appointments I made will be left unattended.

The many plans I had yet to complete will remain forever undone.

The calendar that ruled so many of my days will now be irrelevant to me.

All the material things I so chased and guarded and treasured will be left in the hands of others to care for or to discard.

The words of my critics which so burdened me will cease to sting or capture anymore. They will be unable to touch me.

The arguments I believed I'd won here will not serve me or bring me any satisfaction or solace.   

All my noisy incoming notifications and texts and calls will go unanswered. Their great urgency will be quieted.

My many nagging regrets will all be resigned to the past, where they should have always been anyway.

Every superficial worry about my body that I ever labored over; about my waistline or hairline or frown lines, will fade away.

My carefully crafted image, the one I worked so hard to shape for others here, will be left to them to complete anyway.

The sterling reputation I once struggled so greatly to maintain will be of little concern for me anymore.

All the small and large anxieties that stole sleep from me each night will be rendered powerless.

The deep and towering mysteries about life and death that so consumed my mind will finally be clarified in a way that they could never be before while I lived.

These things will certainly all be true on the day that I die.

Yet for as much as will happen on that day, one more thing that will happen.

On the day I die, the few people who really know and truly love me will grieve deeply.

They will feel a void.

They will feel cheated.

They will not feel ready.

They will feel as though a part of them has died as well.

And on that day, more than anything in the world they will want more time with me.

I know this from those I love and grieve over.

And so knowing this, while I am still alive I'll try to remember that my time with them is finite and fleeting and so very precious—and I'll do my best not to waste a second of it.

I'll try not to squander a priceless moment worrying about all the other things that will happen on the day I die, because many of those things are either not my concern or beyond my control.

Friends, those other things have an insidious way of keeping you from living even as you live; vying for your attention, competing for your affections.

They rob you of the joy of this unrepeatable, uncontainable, ever-evaporating Now with those who love you and want only to share it with you.

Don't miss the chance to dance with them while you can.

It's easy to waste so much daylight in the days before you die.

Don't let your life be stolen every day by all that you believe matters, because on the day you die, much of it simply won't.

Yes, you and I will die one day.

But before that day comes: let us live..

ایک منٹ سے دوسرے منٹ کے درمیان کتنا فاصلہ ہے ؟

ایک منٹ سے دوسرے منٹ کے درمیان کتنا فاصلہ ہے ؟

اور میں تمہیں بتادوں ساٹھ سیکنڈ نہیں ہے 

اور نہ ہی ایک گھنٹے سے دوسرے گھنٹے کا فاصلہ ساٹھ منٹ

تم جو سمجھتے ہو ایک ہفتے سے دوسرے ہفتے کا فاصلہ سات دن

سب غلط ہے۔۔۔

نہیں ہیں سال میں تین سو پینسٹھ دن

خوشی اور ٖغم میں وقت کی ترتیب ایک سی نہیں رہتی

ساٹھ سیکنڈ کی خوشی میں گُزرتا لمحہ 

غم کے قالب میں ڈھل جائے توصدیاں نگل جائے