The Bravest Place on Earth

As his forehead touched the soft fabric of the Jan-e-maaz, he felt serenity. Peace. This was the only remedy he needed to sooth his jangling nerves. What a sight he must be, prostrated in the authenticity of God, a painting not even worthy of passing through Leonardo Da Vinci’s brush strokes. He straightened his tongue forever in the blissful movements of uttering God’s praises. His eyes, though on the usual look of an observer were speculated  on the prayer mat, were actually searching for Allah, His divine existence. The joy of surrendering oneself to His supremacy! People were daunted by the idea of giving presentations in front of their bosses and judges. They were missing the biggest presentation of all! The namaz. Sadly, pondered by some, missed by all.

Oh, only if the people took times from the idiosyncratic happenings of their world to take a peek into God’s world, what marvelous sights they would be seeing. What’s once seen cannot be unseen. And what’s never seen cannot ever make a path in anyone’s conscience.

Students, bartering their way through exams and tests and other horrendous worldly sadistic pleasures, what they are ignorant from is the exam taking place from the beginning of man’s existence. From the bite of an apple to the slither and hiss of the serpent, everyone is undergoing major scrutiny, an eye in a large telescope, the scribbling of parchment on either sides of the shoulder. Yet no one gives even a thought to this.

He raised his eyes and took a deep breath. The revelation, the epiphany only came to him in these times, when he bowed himself to Allah’s will. Folding up the Jan-e-maaz, he sat down on the floor and smiled grimly, oh what creatures of ignorance will find in this world if they cannot define the Hereafter. What were they running to and from when the day they die, all will be lost, all will be lost.

He inclined his hands towards Him and begin to pray.

My Person

There she was always, sitting under the shade of the money-plant, her golden brown fur glittering in the morning sun. She would look up at you, with those almond shaped green ayes and pad softly over to lend a loving purr or simply a shoulder to cry on. Her name was Kitty and she was 14 years old. She had been with us since her kitten days, my sister finding her behind an old dustbin behind our house. She was scared of us and was she tiny!
A few days later we found out that a tom cat had murdered and literally beheaded all her siblings and she was the only one who had survived. We cried when we came to know this horrible incident and vowed to give a home to our newest family member.

But I wasn't happy. Kitty quickly took to my mother in terms of the youngest sibling. Whenever I wanted to sit in Ammi's lap, she would roll over from wherever she would have been lolling around and would jump up into my mothers lap, glinting at me from behind those mischievous eyes. We hated each other.
My hatred grew so much that one day, while my mother and everyone in the house was sleeping, I took her out and threw her down from the balcony! The nerve of me! But she landed on her four paws much to my utter disappointment and had to bear harsh words from my family. How could you do such a thing? They all asked me. I could only shrug and mumble while Kitty gloated and purred in my mothers lap.

Then I turned eight and we shifted into another house. I was residing at my uncle's for a few days and came back hoping Kitty was lost somewhere in the past, but she turned up just the same, a scared ball of fur. I'm sorry to say I aggravated anxious behaviour just a bit more.
We had a series of small fights after our move. We despised each other so much. But the irony of it all is, Kitty always used to sleep with me. My sister said it was due to the fact that my small body covered only one half of the bed, leaving the other half free for Kitty to stretch and turn. Or maybe it was just a ploy to make me develop asthma. Thanks Kitty.
When I turned 12, my parents got divorced and there was no Ammi for Kitty. I don't know how but she quickly made spaces in our hearts for herself and my sister and I, helplessly feel in love with her. She used to stay in our room, sleeping with me. She was our baby, the center of our lives.
During all this time, many of our pets died. We had 12 cats! I always used to cry and it left me heart-broken. But my conscious at all times sought out Kitty. She was always there.
The winter of 2012, the blackest winter if I ever saw one. I was 19 and Kitty was 14. I noticed she wasn't breathing properly and her stomach made abnormal movement. We took her to the vet and came to know the shattering news: her liver and kidneys were failing and she was going into Congestive Cardiac Failure. We were both aghast. The reality was far too scary to even face. We were going to lose her.
But still, we took her for an X-Ray and blood test. She was so terrified and panic-stricken, I had to hold her down very gingerly. The tests were done easily but my sister and I both knew, they were useless.
That night, I cried a lot. Kitty was sitting under the bed and came out to console me. Her purrs made me go to to sleep right there on the floor beside her. It was the longest night of our lives. And the most dreadful.
Kitty was euthanized on 5th November, 2012. I can and will never forget her. She was my best friend who listened to me, who didn't judge me. She consoled me whenever I was sad and helpless. She was more than a cat. She was a part of our family and always will be. No matter how many cats I keep in the future now. Kitty will always be the one who was my equal. No cat can ever replace her. I love you Kitty.

Why Is It When?

Why is it whenever I sit down to pee, the telephone rings?
Why is it when I want something to happen very badly, it's chances of happening squirrel down to zero?
Why is it when I'm eating my favourite snack and suddenly guests arrive?
Why is it when I'm trying to sleep and my cat want's to be fed?
Why is it when I really wanna eat something, I develop a severe tummy ache?

Why is it when I wanna listen to songs in the car and everyone becomes suddenly so chatty?
Why is it when I'm watching a movie and the electricity goes off?
Why is it when I try to tear off the grape skin and the whole grape bounces right across the room.
Why is it at the bank teller, there's not a single chair free when I badly want to sit down?
Why is it when I'm in a mood to write something and not a single inspiration comes to me?
Why is it when I'm searching out things in my head happening to me by Murphy's Law and can't find something really so relatable? Like now?

What Is Happiness?

Happiness is laughing so hard with your friends, you get a severe pain in your abdomen. Happiness is studying hard for a test and

come out passing with flying colours. Happiness is lots of cats. Happiness is reading your book of choice in your very own bed. Happiness is coming home and be greeted by your fur-baby. Happiness is understanding something in class. Happiness is finding out someone praised you behind your back. Happiness is talking to your best friend after 2 weeks. Happiness is finding out your crush liked your photo on facebook. Happiness is just standing and staring at your book collection, feeling over whelmed by your love for books. Happiness is eating your favorite cuisine. Happiness is opening the kitchen cabinet and finding that left-over packet of Cheetos. Happiness is petting that cute, feral kitten playing outside your house. Happiness could be anything. But the most important thing is, it should come from within you. 

The Day I Failed.

The Day I Failed. It sounds a bit synonymous to The Day The Earth Stood Still. Or the Rise of the Planet of the Apes. Or Failures. Well, the earth did stand still for a second or two for me when I realized that I had failed. Not just my exams but my parents, my family. The realization that I will have to crack open yet again the never-ending syllabus and study while all my other friends are out celebrating their good results. The epiphany of facing college (read Azkaban), the stares and the whispers and the none too quick to appear questions about my grades, the quizzical looks at me *Seriously, YOU got failed*, the never-ending litany of barrage directed towards me and yes, the Earth was completely still at that time but my legs just didn't co-operate. I got into bed and cried my heart out; for all the hard-work that I had put in, the expectations of my family, the happier days, the wishes I had so needlessly asked Him. I cried so much I was hiccuping badly, feeling desperately sorry for myself. And suddenly, I didn't want to cry anymore. I didn't feel sad or even ashamed. The truth was out and sooner or later I had to accept it. I had failed. And no amount of tears shed were going to change this fact.
I lay in bed, my will to get up had disappeared. Wanting to avoid a confrontation, I informed my aunt by text. Seemed like a harmless thing to do *Hey! You know about that exam I gave in January? Evidently, I did not pass. Sincerely, your daughter who tries too hard* I lost track of time after that.
She came up the stairs to my room, where I lay on my bed like unflushed piss "Janu kuch nai hota. Bhool jao isko (This doesn't matter. Forget about it). This isn't the end of the world." While she was saying this I searched her eyes for disappointment, chagrin, anything. But all I saw was disappointment for me. For all my hard work and drudgery and the battle that I was still fighting. When she went away, I cried for the last time. But not for the aftermath of my exams, but for the love and support I could always accept from my family. Always.Thus, swallowing the bitter pill, I must learn something from a 13-year old cover girl, Talia, who on being asked about living with cancer said when she was still alive;

                                 "Well, a little fish told me to just keep swimming."

Crushed.........Again!

     You are walking peacefully down the road one day, minding no one else's business but yours when you are hit by a ghasting force of beguine by none other than that sleazy looking grocers boy you see every day. Yup, you are crushed, spun around in that hypnotic web of infatuation with no means to get out. You're trapped. But as we know time is the healer of all wounds so there is nothing for you to do but wait in your heart-thumping cage. Isn't this situation a bit similar with people particularly teenagers? After the long-fated crush ends, you wonder how could you ever get a crush on that thing? *I must have been out of my mind!* But, for some not-so-fortunate ones, this flame of fire does not extinguish and they are fated to pine over their beloved.
     Where is this word derived from? In literal terms, when we say we have "fallen for somebody", it means we have fallen so hard and "crushed" ourselves OVER them. In our daily lives, we usually get crushed at least once a day. Let it be that suave and good looking news caster or that cute actor or even some long-distance cousin or that stupid class-mate. For some non-committal ones, this torch lights not so often. But when it does then BAM! Watch out for the explosion!
      Sometimes it happens that a crush does not go away. It remains there like a stubborn piece of left over cake. Sometimes you laugh secretly to yourself over your stupidity and complete agility over some nincompoop. And sometimes you sit singing in the private corners of your heart, thinking you have finally fallen into love. But, why am I going on and on like this over some hormone-based malpractice? Its not really a serious topic and neither is discussing about it going to do something for the world. So why do we discuss it? Possibly owing to the course of adrenaline that rushes through our body at the image of our crush? Or the fact that your friends are going to tease you now by the letter of his first name? (or her, boys too have crushes you know -_-).
It's all the bloody hormones that make you go crazy at times!
So whenever you feel crushed, take a deep breath and remind your self, there are people dying of hunger and being killed. Your issue isn't quite serious. Or is it?