Because Now I'm a 20

Dear Friend,
I'm sure you are worried about me because I haven't written since my 13th birthday and a lot of time has passed. Like a lot. I recently underwent my birthday. And this world appears so bleak.
Because now life feels like it has started. For real.
When I turned 10, I finally felt happy about entering a double-digit age. I remember I used to gloat around my friends who were still 9, forcing them to call me 'Bajy', not answering them when they didn't. Life was suddenly about being one major year older, having more responsibilities although I have yet to think what responsibilities befall a 10-year old. But, nevertheless I felt I had grown up and that extra errand didn't hurt the fact.
Years passed and I finally entered my teens. Nothing earth-shattering I guess. I was in that happy state of life where I was a teen forever, nothing could dissipate me from my Eden.
Time passed (again!) and at last I reached my 19th birthday. Now what? I asked myself, quite puzzled because the day I turned 13 seemed like just yesterday. So now my teenage years are just going to end? I'm going to be 20? The massive just-around-the-brink adulthood was almost here where parents were waiting to unload all that trashy adult-hood stuff I had yet to figure out. I admit I went into shock for a few minutes.
This is growing up I think. You change. I turn back and find a stupid, idealistic girl with no inspirations, no real targets, goals. And here I am, in my 20th year, being someone. I think much, ponder over the detailed intricacies which my mind had stubbornly decided to overlook. Adults may still see me as that pony-tailed, knee-bending girl with the silly know-nothing, seen-nothing grin but inside I know how much I've seen and heard. I can judge people better, I know what matters and what doesn't. 
But still, I'm not an adult.
You could say we people in our early Tweens, as I call it, are stuck in a limbo, a place where adults never take you seriously but there is always an exclamation mark after their never-ending sentence *You are growing up! Act properly* As if adults really act properly.
We're the misunderstood ones, the left-out, never quite fitting in the kids but not old enough for adult conversations(except those with your bestie)
We  have finally understood life, our role in it and but we are still confused about it. This might be the second puberty which hits a 20 year old by slow and obsolete osmosis. We undergo changes not really decipherable on the exterior and parents, not being able to read us well, term us as "being fine". Which could not be further from the truth.
At times escape throttles in our blood, urging us to to just pack and leave. Go anywhere. The mind does not think coherently. At times, we just wanna hide, in the privacy of our own room, not wanting to talk. The times when parents start smirking at each other with the notion hanging in the air *just 5 more years* and all you can keep from slitting your throat is to just sit and grit.
I can say hitting the 20's (Gawd!) was not fun. I was confused and irritated. Confused about what kind of person I was. Irritated because I didn't (don't!) want to grow up into those jerky adults everyone hates. When the clock struck 12 on 6th September, I was glad it was over.
Which might just be the sign that maybe, I've grown up. (Oh god NO!)

Everything KH

I read his book A Thousand Splendid Suns and I was hooked.
The use of simple language and the way he described the surroundings so that one is able to locate precisely what is happening, where it's occurring was beautifully implicated. There were no difficult words mind you and I didn't feel the need to read the book along with a dictionary as one is forced to do while skimming Atlas Shrugged. The story was rich without the use of laboriously rigid letters spun together.
The most admirable thing about this book was the use of Urdu words, giving not the least inhibiting influence to a non-Urdu speaker.The book spoke, as anyone who has read it would agree. It was alive. It didn't just have a story to tell, but it demanded the attention it needed riveted by it's reader.
Just this year, after much begging, I was awarded his recent best-seller And The Mountains Echoed by my best friend on my birthday. This story was much more complex, intricate relationships between the characters. But all the same, it kept me turning it's pages throughout the night. 
I couldn't agree more with the Washington Post: Send Hossaini up the bestseller again.

Procrastination? My Foot!

Yeah, I never really got around to writing it down. Still procrastinating.
Here's a picture of Harry Porker as a pig.

Why I'm Sad

I want to be happy. I really do. I feel happy when I study and I learn something useful. I'm happy when I can watch The Simpsons all day long. I'm happy when I'm eating my favourite things. But you can't remain happy for long. It's impossible. If a person tells you, he's happy, he's satisfied, life could never have been better, he's lying. This world sees to that. Imagine this. You're happy, eating a shawrma in your car and you spot a kid, a starved animal hunting for food, how would that make you feel? Happy? Satisfied? Life could never have been better right?
This is what life really is. A dance between happyness, sadness and the doubt between these two things. And all those things that you think when you're doubting make you the person that you are. Are you thinking about yourself? About that left-over pizza from yesterday? Or are you thinking of giving it to that emaciated crow in your yard? This is what Allah wants us to do. We are His people His army. Life is not about lying down in one place and dying in it the next. It's about giving. You have never really lived until someone cannot return the favour you bestowed upon them. So keep your eyes open and never hesitate to help someone. Pray for that person agonizing over their exams. Pray for the family sitting in a rictus during their loved one's operation. Give, in any way you can and when you cannot anymore, that is the time to die. In peace. Happiness.

Sleep Much?

The irrevocable feeling that tonight, sleep is not going to be my companion, the need to close my eyes for a nap and the monster or ghoul I see behind my closed lashes, the non-existent foot steps I hear on the stairs, expecting a claw on my shoulder, Freddy Kruger standing in my room, the metal hand glinting ominously in the sepulchral glow even though the movie's been played on my screen like three years ago and this character doesn't crop up until now, the realization that today is Friday the 13th, then I know it's Appy's night at the hospital tonight.
I dread it, this dance of my sister's between the hospital and her warm bed, occurring once every 4 days. When she returns after a night, I bask in the glow of being able to close my eyes and sleep soundly, not caring about any demon, dementor or banshee standing at the edge of my bed. I even turn off the light (something I'm not famous for!) and enjoy a marvelous rest.

But the day I realize I'm going to be all alone in the upper half of my house, is enough to keep me awake for the rest of the night. Which is a good thing as a couple of snatches of sleep are already out of my reach.
I wonder what I'm gonna do when I grow up eventually. Keeping a lot of cats so I can sleep if I live alone (which I'm actually gonna do!) or try to live with my parents (hell to the no).
I guess the first one is something to think about.
I just hope by the time I'm ready to live on my own, I have erased these irrational fears (read stupid) and can perfectly snooze off in any environment.
Or it could be just this that maybe I'm going to be so pooped out by working all day (or all night!) that I'm not gonna care about any supernatural thing lurking around in the background while I rest with my eyes completely closed....Post up a sign for the dementor buddy or the bogeyman; Give it a rest dude! I'm  ex-Hausted!!
Maybe that will be it. But I mustn't get my hopes high. Even now I have to glance back over my shoulders to investigate what that squishing sound was just now...Oh wait, it's just granny's wet slipper's...walking by itself? Oh no.....maybe I'm hallucinating from lack of serotonin in my blood.....