To Be, Or Not To Be, That Is The Question


I see a damaged soul instead of seeing myself in the mirror. I see that girl, whose eyes have this far-off look when she sings. As if, she’s in some other time, some other reality, some alternate universe. I see her past and her future. She’s a broken record, a torn piece of cloth, a silver chain that lost it’s shine, a ruined shrine: what’s common, is the damage. What happened?
She was forced to grow up. She was forced to take responsibility, to be mature. But who in the world must define maturity? Is it laughing on the face of adversity? Is it, ignoring the urge to slap a misbehaving child? Is it, not crying in front of anyone and soaking your pillow when alone? What is this maturity?
I see a girl for whom the blooming flowers don’t have any significance anymore because the spring didn’t reach her inside this time around. I see a tortured head, tired eyes, a fake smile on a gloomy face. I see misery that’s self-created, monsters waiting for the warrior to strike back and a warrior with wounded pride. I see darkness with a hint of light. Only a dot perhaps. I see the sky, meeting the ocean, but too far, on the horizon. I see opportunities, just a little beyond her reach. I see life draped in the cloak of death.
To be, or not to be? And what will be if when she ceases to be?
No, I won’t answer that. It’s, perhaps, more depressing than the post itself. When death comes, it comes. the fear isn’t of dying but of the process itself. The difficulty isn’t in living right now but in enjoying the luxuries with no or lesser effort.
I remember, once, not long ago, there was a girl I shared my room with, I called her my friend. She’s gone now. Only her memories remain. The hurt, the low moods and the occasional depressive thoughts…..
*sigh*
A hug from my mum would definitely make me feel better and there is a mother who can never hug her daughter again. So many people have bigger problems than I do.
I decide to be, as long as I can be. For this life, is a treasure and I, the keeper. So I decide to take life, over death. For difficulties come to make us realize that we are still alive. I’ll just have to go and find the warrior inside again. The sooner, the better.

Title: opening phrase of a dialogue Hamlet, Act III, Scene I.
By William Shakespeare

Diary Entry:In Memory of A lost Soul


Dear diary,
I lost my Pakistani roommate and friend to Poison on Tuesday, January 20,2015. What’s more shocking is that I left her the evening before, in hostel, so cheerful and positive. And what hurts is, that I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye properly because I was getting late for my bus to Rawalpindi. Regrets, regrets and more regrets…… with guilt splashed here and there. What’s even worse is that I haven’t been able to see her for the last time before her burial because of my exam that evening.
Parents and students are afraid, at least those who know about the matter. Curious people kept flooding to my room to investigate, pretending that they feel so bad about her death even though they don’t have a clue of who she was! (Yeah, that’s super-infuriating!!!)
Last time I think I complained about life being boring, and now the kind of excitement I have, I don’t want any piece of it.
One final and viva is left then I would be free from university again In sha Allah, for a couple of days. Then I will have to actually focus on packing my bags from AFIC Mess and shifting them back to my aunt’s place and then the internship itself. As if submitting cases to my university wasn’t enough, which by the way, we have to submit by Monday, we have to submit a case in AFIMH too, before it ends.
(As if, our life wasn’t bad enough!)
I haven’t been able to go back to my home for more than a month and it doesn’t seem like I will be able to, except for a weekend. I, sometimes wonder, if all this sacrifice is worth it…. Because I don’t know how much time I have got and how much time my beloveds have. A sudden death like that of my friend isn’t an uncommon thing. And honestly, I’m terrified of dying without any reason. I want my life as well as my death to have a purpose that helps someone at least. I know the worth of my life; I want my death to be worthy too!
Anyway, back to my old whiney and boring self now. Of course I have lots and lots of things to say but all those things would need my concentration and motivation to come out of the “mind-box” where I hoard them. And I’m not feeling particularly motivated to write any more. Plus I have to prepare for my exam :/ not something I like very much to do. But time is pretty crucial these days and I need to focus….

Till next time…
Hasta Lavista!!!

Diary entry 45


Dear diary,
Just had to listen to another big fight between my roommates. All the shouting has my head pounding now. Nobody was ready to calm down. The Pakistani roommate cries while the Kenyan roommate shouts. And I sit between them with my head throbbing and throat hurting after trying to make them see sense,which by the way, always goes down the drain!

Even the girls from the neighbouring rooms came to resolve the matter but had to go back with nothing but failure.

What works with them is that I let them speak their hearts out before saying anything. This helps a lot. When the extreme fire consumes the firewood, I’m there to tend to the burns. This is my job-yeah,I have the nursing duty. I tend to the scars in their minds.

(Well,no,I’m not a Saint.So what I basically do is,give them both a shut up call)
The sea is most peaceful after the storm. I love this silence(awkward though it is,but so precious all the same). Theres nothing more beauteous than the sunshine after a heavy downpour!

What just happened to me?
Where did all that come from?

Well, I guess this is all I want to write today. Back to “The Lucky One”
😉

Adios!