Let Me Hold Your Hand Tonight

They are sitting quite far from the beach crowd where several people are enjoying around a bonfire. The sea is quite calm and the distant music with a light moon is making it a very charismatic and young night. They are talking about life, nature, them and their friendship; and they have sacred feelings for each other – feelings like that of love, which are overpowering them, but both of them have never said that they love each other. He wants to say. She wants to listen.

Junaid Farooqui – Learn A Little About Wannabe Playboys

If I think about the wannabe-playboys in my office, Junaid Farooqui is the very first attractive name that strikes my brains. He indeed is categorized among the wannabe-playboys, but he sucks at it big time – that’s not what I say; you can check his Facebook profile where you are going to find hundreds of Pakistani chicks having some of the most pathetic profiles on the internet with several monograms like butterflies, insects, animals and music icons. But style does not matter for Junaid Farooqui; gender does. It’s enough for him that they are at least, ‘girls’ – A real Tharki!

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Reprogram Yourself With A Thought – Enhance Your Everyday Life With Miracles and Magics

I believe that offering prayers five times a day is a perfect process to re-program ourselves to our most perfect versions. With the passage of time and happening of incidents, our thoughts change, our belief get shattered and our perception for several things change. And they change drastically, I know. To get them fixed, to raise our morale, to believe that humans are equal, to boost our self confidence and our inner powers, and to realize the purpose of our existence, we should re-program ourselves, which is possible with Salaah (Namaz).

We all offer Salaah, do we not? Then, why do we not see any miracles happening in our lives? Why are we not cured when we pray a few nawafil for our health, or when we pray for the solution of several of others such problems. Even after the miraculous results being mentioned in old religious manuscript, we do not see any results. It sounds like miracles have just went to sleep for a long time, and a few people might scare you as they come to

Coming Back To Life – Pink Floyd

Where were you when I was burned and broken

While the days slipped by from my window watching

Where were you when I was hurt and helpless

Rabba Sachiya – Atif

Originally, it is Faiz Ahmed Faiz’s poetry; and Atif Aslam has just taken a few stanzas, which do not follow any sequences if we take into account the original manuscript written by Faiz. But even with this sequence, this song is awesome. It’s moving and it consumes a lot of mental, intellectual as well as spiritual energy to feel what Faiz would have felt. As I am neither an intellectual nor a spiritual intellectual, I can’t explain this song as it deserves. But this is my blog and I have some rights to be wrong here. So, I am writing what this poetry, music and the vocals of Atif make me feel.

Rabba Sachiya too tay Akhiya si
Ja Oye Bandiya Jug Da Shah hai Too

(Defining True God might make me write a lot more pages than I can actually write. Therefore, I’m not defining “Rabba Sachiya”. It needs no explanation, anyway. But it deserves expressions.)

God has given us freedom for everything, making us thoughtful and superior than all other creatures. And He has given us this world; and the freedom to own it. He even gave us the freedom to forget Him and drown in this world the way we want to, the way it allows us to. So, Faiz is probably trying to say that God has given us the authority to be in this world like we want, without forcefully doing anything (Reminds me of Seven Habits’ HAVE To and Choose to Theory), making us the King of this world. If not the whole world, we have all the rights to create and live in our own world and bless it or suppress it in our most beloved ways. And here, Faiz is talking about ‘the world of our own.’(Not the world where Zardari becomes

Mad No More

It was yet another day, going in vain for him; and he just watched it.  Silently sitting on white concrete stairs outside a big splendid building, he just kept watching all the things he couldn’t solve with his empty hands and a heart that was filled with desires. Unlike his past, he was observing so many things which he should have observed years ago.

Everyone came and left but he, unaware of all these things,

A Dreamer and A Believer

Both of them met after a very long time. Shaking hands, nodding each others eyes and silently sitting – that’s how they met. And they were best complicated friends that world wasn’t aware of. After all, it was a combination of a sensitive Dreamer, and a pessimist Believer – being alike and different from each other.

They knew about each others lives like they knew about their own lives – very deeply. They knew because they were living exactly the same lives – one was living it, and the other one was seeing it. And after having everything shared without feeling the need to say any words, they just relied on smoking. That’s how their company started – that’s how it always started – same brand, same mood and same thoughts.

A Dreamer and A Beleiver

Like always, Dreamer broke the silence,

Enrique’s Tired of Being Sorry – My Way With A Different Theme

I don’t know why

You want to follow me tonight

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Color Me With Your Words

“I think you need to read 7 habits of highly effective people. You need to know yourself. I would have explained all about the book to you but it is complicated and I don’t have time for it. But you need it, I don’t. I know I possess all kinds of effective habits. I just need to find them out. But what about you, eh? Read this book!” He emphasized with helplessness, considering the level of her carefree nature and her so-called wise decisions.

It sounded like she was the most effective personality walking this planet. She smiled and said, “I do not need to read any books to be effective; to know more of myself.”

He was an easy prey, and he fell in

I Got God On My Back

When you know that God stands by you, watches your back and is eager to support if you keep your heart clean, you don’t feel any fears at all. When you know fears no more, you play. And you play it hard when he is with you. Same are the things with me and with everyone else.

Often times, I fell like falling apart and letting things leave me, and letting me leave them but just when the failure is peeking at me around the corner, (I don’t know how) but He makes me think of Him; and it reveals upon me, very slowly, shaking my inside. When it happens, I feel the warm heat inside my hands, and a chill running up my spine. My brain stops working and heart beats faster -faster than it should. And I close

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Nothing About Mr. Nobody

There is nothing to narrate, no story to tell and no more excuses to betray anyone. There is nothing to write about Mr. Nobody except that he is alive and every night, his beliefs get broken. He feels sad and bad but he never gives up. He gathers his spirits, some shattered dreams and the broken pieces of his memories and dreams and holds them in his hands when he prays. He shows them to God, and God lets him feel their worth. He asks. God listens. He prays and God accepts. He begs and God forgives. And He mends him, with each of his broken dream and a spirit that’s about to die, reshaping them, and blessing them with a new life, giving them a new name, a new shape and of course, a new path to lead.

He prays like a beggar, with hands that beg for mercy and eyes that remain closed. Perhaps he deliberately shuts them. Shutting them down at least makes him feel more like a dreamer than a selfish and a mean zany, who is begging, kneeling and bowing before his Lord for some mercy… And some dreams.

But when he prays,

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The Lights Thats I See, The Beliefs That I Be

He sat in his darkened room, setting it alight as he puffed a cigarette with every move the night made that night. He had his usual unstylish getup and feet on the table, which met each other time by time – telling the room that he is thinking about his life, which was the most difficult thing he had to do everyday. It had been so long but he was still whirling around the same circle. Nothing had changed except the fact that he was now aware of the rounds he was taking and his momentum. Moreover, he had learned things, which made him feel good somehow. “But feeling good is not what I am here for! I gotta define my directions.” He thought. After many days, he was finally ale to spend sometime with himself and it was what he enjoyed the most. Why? Because he loved his own company and that is why he lived alone.

He remembered all the aches he suffered in the past, when the clock had ticked for a few trillion times. Everything had changed then, he too, which seemed to be the worst and sometimes the best deal he ever came across. Unknowingly, he had molded himself into something new, and he didn’t share it with anyone. It was another story that there was no one to be shared with. He had lost it all. Perhaps everyone. “It happens when you run out of time. Out of money as well.”

Magic In The Air

Sleep has gone

I miss your presence

And your hand in mine

I know you are a baby

Want some songs to sing?

A few of mine, a lot unknown.

In violins and silence,

We’ll be together

Saying poems, gratifying promises

Staring inside

Your beautiful eyes,

And Magic in the air

Wanna come here, my love?

Have no fears

I’ll stay

Let me wipe that tear

Make you smile

And hear that you love

Come here, be near

I Want to hear

Your beats and mine

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Be On Your Own, Sweets. Let Me Be On My Own

He sat near the seashore and watched how the waves and the sands interacted with each other. For several minutes, he stayed motionless with his hands arming his chin and cheeks; thinking about a few things and listening to the sound of the the air with the sand and the foams with the waves, which gradually descended every time it reached its peak.

“So it ends anyway…eh? Like every other thing?” He asked himself. Who is the grain and who is the sand, what is in the air and who really is the wave; all were too complicated to be considered. He moved his thoughts as well as the eyes and looked at everything.

The place was over crowded with his thoughts and millions of grains. The air had a music in itself, like every other thing that he found musical. Some of the grains, which were too weak to stay, flew with the wind and rested in his long hair. He stayed with them for a while, noticed them and when he saw that nothing is going to happen now, he jerked them back to the air and starred back. On his way back, he kept cutting