Diary Entry: Dreams

Dear diary,
Dreams SUCK!
I should know, I’m a sucker for dreams. The daydreams. Not the ones seen with closed eyes. And my dream institute sucks big time as well. Not exactly the institute, but some parts of it. Major portions!
For example, my university’s hostel and management. Garrison University held a such charm in my naive mind, before I was officially a part of it. Now I know, it was made for one purpose and one purpose alone; Business!
Yes, I’m ashamed to say, that they have turned such a sacred task of transfer of knowledge into merchandise. The more students advance through their grades, the more expensive the degrees become and with hectic routines in which one can’t even do a part time job to earn, sadly enough, we; those who wish to get higher education, are breaking our parents’ backbone by taking so much money.
As if that’s not enough, mess charges are increased, whenever the management wishes to do so, without prior notice or consent. For the sake of their advertisement, they have mentioned on their website that the hostel is fully furnished(yeah, I put my stuff in an invisible cupboard everyday, and sleep on an invisible bed. How charming! )
On one side, this place has helped me in my personal growth and on the other, its the reason of a constant disappointment, rage, depression, frustration and all other such
ugly emotions- you name it!
I’m tired of this city, I’m tired of this place. Islamabad was heaven compared to this hellhole here! I wanna go back, so badly!
Waiting for any such miracle!
I must go. I’m so exhausted :/
As for these relentless people- will see you guys in front of Allah! He will see to your injustice there and then.
May Allah help save us all from such hypocritical lot, that comprises my university management.

P.S: Dear Islamabad, I miss you so badly and I would try my level best to come back soon ❤

Diary Entry:Rising Sun Institute for Special Children

Dear diary,
CMH placement is over (Thank Goodness!!!) only case submission and viva left. And by this time, I’m kinda tired of reading and re-reading and re-re-reading the cases for editing. I just wanna get over with them.
Today was our orientation day for our Child Psychopathology placement in a special education Institute called Rising Sun.

Before the time of officially entering the Rising Sun Institute for Special Children, I saw a child being helped out of his car into a wheel chair, outside the gate of the institution, a child, without motor control. The moment I entered the gate, I heard a child crying, looking out of the window. Unsure and a little rattled, I entered the impressively big building along with my class mates.
Orientation and a detailed tour of the building followed. The tour started from 4th floor, with a gradual descend towards the basement. Each floor of the building houses different categories of students, the most impressive being the children with trainable skills. Seeing the vocational training section of the building on 4th floor, I was spellbound. One coherent sentence that my mind could think of was “these special children are living up to their name.” From learning beautiful handy work on a piece of cloth, hand-loom cloth production to cutting, sewing and producing the institution’s uniforms, to making use of recyclable stuff to make useful stuff, the use of beads, sequins and Italian dough to make stunning jewelry; the work of the children was impressive, made us proud and put us to shame.
4th floor comprised of 2 sections. One section was for visually challenged students and the other, vocational training section.
Each floor consisted of a self-care unit, a speech therapy room, a computer lab and various classes for children of different ages.
The ground floor consisted of junior section and the basement was divided into 3 main sections. One section was for “Autistic” children. Another section was for “Cerebral Palsy.” The third section was for Physiotherapy. It consisted of “Sensory Integration therapy, Hydrotherapy and Occupational therapy.”
Here, we got to learn the difference between a “Profession” and an “Occupation.”
Putting “Occupation,” in simple words, it is “any activity that occupies a child’s time.” It consisted of “Pre-writing training, hand-eye co-ordination and eye-feet co-ordination training.”
All in all, the experience was an eye-opener and left a permanent impression on mind. It would be an honor to be given an opportunity to learn more about the setup.
And it was a moment of gratitude towards Allah, first, for making us as normal as it gets and secondly because He chose us to try to help the less privileged ones amidst us.
The class I was to observe, was in Cerebral Palsy section. It consisted of 2 groups of children. The age ranges from 6.5 years to 7.5 years and 7.5 years to 8.5 years olds. Both groups of children were sitting around a semicircular table, with a teacher facing them. Each group had its own table and teacher. One group contained the students who, even though slow, could learn to read and write. The other group, of smaller kids, used activities to improve their movement and co-ordination.
The teachers were extremely patient, loving and down to earth. The children smiled when the teachers conversed with them.
A student, successfully achieved his goal of arranging boxes of different sizes so that the biggest box contained the small one. Small box contained yet another smaller one. So on and so forth.
A little girl learned the names of different colours. She completed a task by putting coloured beads onto a frame of their respective colours correctly. She got tired after her task completion so she was allowed to put her head down and close her eyes.
The group of students, who were capable of learning, learned their respective tasks and the teacher listened to them later. The teacher helped a child to memorize Urdu alphabets by putting them into pairs. Another child memorized the table of 6 successfully till 6×6.
The teachers were hard at work and the children were at ease with them. They worked with remarkable patience with each child.
The drawbacks I observed was that children who learned something previously but came after long holidays had forgotten what they had previously learned, taking the teacher back to square one. The parents’ support and co-operation was minimal which should have been more, for the sake of their own children.
Overall, it was a very unique experience to be able to observe the children closely and get an insight into the problems faced by the children and teachers in the process of learning.

My Creepy Stalker

Experience has taught me to always, ALWAYS trust my instinct. To never ignore the alarm inside when it goes off.

My past has come to confront me, to try, to sting me. But I’m way tougher than I was. I made a decision and I stand by it til date!

Self-preservation is every human being’s first and foremost thought and priority and that is what I did too, a long time ago.  And I will be very honest and forthcoming today because I don’t care what others think of me at this point.

It’s not like me to post private chats on public forums, but today, I will make an exception. This stupidity has gone far enough, this matter has been left untouched for too long.

Okay, here’s the story.

My version.

Without nasty curses or foul language, which Allah knows how much I want to use and how easy it is, but I’m not going to stoop down to his level, no matter what!
Some years ago- I don’t remember if it was 3 or 4 years, ’cause, honestly, he isn’t important and the matter wasn’t either- there was this guy in my friend-list, who claimed he was in love with me, without seeing me and without knowing what I looked like. I told him I didn’t reciprocate and didn’t want to even in the future. Simply because I wasn’t interested. But some people make it a point to be annoyingly argumentative. He did that too. I kept saying no, in a polite manner and he kept coming stronger than ever. That annoyed me to my limit. So I discussed my predicament with an old friend. He replied; “I’m a guy and I know how love works for us. We don’t fall for mystery or brains, we fall for beauty. He hasn’t seen you so there is no chance that what he claims is true. There is only one simple solution. Block him and get over with it.”
And I blocked him, thinking, it would be the end of the story. But no! Life had something else in store for me. Here, I have to mention that guy asked me to unfriend and block him, if my answer was no and if it was final. If I do, he will get the answer. But when I do block him, I start getting messages from his friends and from his brother’s id. I blocked them too but that wasn’t enough for him! He, next, comes to my blog to comment here. I didn’t approve so he started writing a blog himself, which I never bothered to read-frankly. I didn’t want anything to do with him, but my mistake was, I didn’t say those words on his face. I wasn’t a bitch about it. Til date, that seems to be my biggest mistake that I tried to turn him down politely.

Anyway, I have no idea if he kept stalking me or not, after that. But some months ago, he came back, from a fake id, posing as a girl. While its a bit flattering that he would keep a grudge all these years, in actuality, its much more pathetic that he didn’t have anything better to do than that.

Honestly, how many polite ways do you think, are there to tell someone that you want nothing to do with them?!
Anyway, I tell that “girl” one day, subtly, that I don’t trust her and that my instinct says that she’s from my past, somehow. She denies- obviously. But my instinct proved to be right, because she was a “HE” from my past. That same creepy stalker who kept burning in his fire of vengeance for so long. Oh and he had the audacity to call me a monster and a bitch and then tell me it was “below his dignity to reply to me,” as if I was dying to hear from him….
*rolling my eyes*
And then he went on to tell me to “go, screw myself.”
A big LOL!!! I mean, seriously, if this kind of trash talking is how “Literate people”, and “people with dignity,” talk, I’m glad that I’m an “illiterate, inconsiderate, Bitch without a conscience!” and I’m actually proud of being myself! Because that seems to be more respectable than stooping “down,” or should I say “UP,” to your level!


Oh, and as for your hatred for me, I wouldn’t be caught giving a damn about it. You aren’t important for me. Never were! You called me a Bitch, well, you haven’t seen me being one yet, so don’t push your luck. There’s only so far that my patience runs 🙂

Before I go, I would say the only thing I want to convey.

“Get a life you Creep!”

Oh, and here’s a clue:“stay the hell out of my life from now on. You aren’t welcome here.”