History and Name

Juggan Jilani is my first cousin. But the way we both know each other, he is my younger brother. His real name is Mustafain Jilani and his ass has been on fire ever since he started existing. Therefore, after thoughtful consideration and resembling his ass with that of a firefly, his family named him ‘Jugno’. Later, after stepping into the cyber world, he promoted himself to Juggan Jilani and cooled his ass. The reason for choosing ‘Juggan’ are manifold. The most obvious one might be his love for Juggan Kazim, but I’m not fully sure of it – It can be anything when ‘it’ is about him.

The Reason

The current scenario — encompassing his daily routine, behavior and interests — says that he has wisely chosen me as his role model or something like that. Now imagine ME being a role model. *Shrugs* Anyway, I respect a few of his decisions so its kinda OK with me. To be me, Juggan swiftly keeps adopting my interests and also tries to copy my allotropic personality to some extent. And there are several things among both of us that are extremely alike.

The Fuck He Does All Day Long

He spends nearly 7 hours each day with me when I just spend half an hour each day with him – and it’s when I talk and listen to him. About the rest of 6 and a half hours, I keep engaging myself into different activities for the sake of killing time and Juggan just stays with me to ensure himself that he spends most of his time with me.

Sometimes, he’s busy with his iPod, sometimes with text messaging, and sometimes he just joins me even if I’m silent, if I’m watching TV or just watching the clock tick by. Whatever I do, he does the same. He wants peace. He probably assumes it as some material thing. However, peace is just a thought. Think it, and its there.

His Age Compared With Mine

Juggan’s age is almost seeing the same stuff that I had seen when I was his age. That, actually, brings us together in the same picture. I can understand his things which he is unable to even know of. Others do not understand him like they understand themselves, but I understand his problems just like I feel like understanding mine. Therefore, he asks questions all the time with a firm belief that only I have the best answers, as if I have learnt by heart the lately added Encarta Encyclopedia or some-book-of-deep-thoughts.

He acts like the complication and I become its details and I bear with him easily. But of course, it is very irritating when a guy who resembles your childhood, guns you with whole lotta weird questions about human behavior, personal development, feelings, nature, writing, internet, trance, dance and techno along with several indirect questions regarding love and relationships. Doing so, he sometimes becomes a pain, and I quit whenever I’m pained. He wants to know about love! Come on! When I was his age, I was capable of writing a whole book on love and relationships – probably because I have witnessed most of the tragedies when I was a kid. And Love was most of them. His childhood has yet to see a lot more delicate stuff.

Things That Shout Him Out Loud

Questions, my friends, are his symbol. I’m sure when Juggan gets his ID Card, it would define his Symbol of Identity as: A guy having a mouth wide opened with an urge to inhale a change, and a face where life has brutally pasted a bundle of weird questions. I hope they also mention the spark of dreams in his eyes – he is also so damn full of life But he whines, like I once whined. He has missed spending a phase of 7 months where Salaina Haroon and Haroon stay together; and also being unpaid 7 thousand bucks. Had he been living both these, he would have been busy pouring meanings to his life, and shaking it upside down along with the time because, at present, life hasn’t employed him on permanent basis.

I hate to even say it but sometimes, he commits self-pity for he has no siblings, and blames his loneliness for several psychological complexities, which do not even exist. I advise him to stay alive. Sorry, I meant to say, ‘STAY ALIVE’. But it almost goes in vain; Juggan listens to me only when he is with me. Loneliness makes him forget things and he forgets staying alive, which makes me believe that I’m just a fuckin’ battery to his full-of-life versions.

What Makes Him Positive: Reliability

Earlier, I used to kick him away or kick myself out of wherever he was with me – the reason was smoke, ashes and some love stories. I feared to share secrets with him because he had that image of a Mama’s Boy, who tells everything to his mom even before completely entering his house, but now I think I should be ashamed of taking him so negatively. He isn’t a Mama’s Boy. It revealed one day, when I discussed this issue with him and made him understand that there are things that only last as long as the company does: Boys’ Talk; secrets are ought not to crawl to the crowd. But to my surprise, he said he already understands it, and he showed a warm response which assured me of his cooperation. I made sure that he stays reliable by assuring him that we are brothers and very good friends and smoked in front of him. That day, we became close friends.

Before we became good friends, I feared because I did not want to spoil him. He was a kid, positive; I was mature, negative. And I was afraid that I might attract him as I was supposed to attract him positively. Therefore, I wisely brainwashed him against the negative things that make me be who I really am. One needs to have smart brains to be a bad man, but it’s not necessary to have brains if one wants to be a smoker. That’s why I especially pointed out the harms of smoking, saying how miserable and tired I had become after smoking, which of course, was lame. But he believed me and he is safe.

Educational Back on a Flat Ground

Laughs. He sucks at education. Besides, he sucks big time when it comes to mathematics. Evaluation confuses him; and elevation excites his highness. Therefore, he needs special-educational-attention. The easiest solution I advised him was that he should perceive mathematics the way I did in my schooling – I took it as a brain sharpener and I was best at it. However, I didn’t know much about evaluating, focusing, applying principles or formulae; I just played with it. Later, I fell in love once, twice and thrice. So, ermmmm, now I’m more into Personal Psychotherapy kinda things, not Math.

Prohibited Careers

• Anything that comes with a responsibility. He’s a free soul; and he hates boundries. Self employement would be better for him.

Skills for Cooking Dreams and Desires

So far, he is unable to discover his dreams, but he knows that they are there somewhere and he is just required to remember them. Besides, he is not comfortable in adjusting himself to the spot where he currently exists, which means he wants to move, higher. And that explains the presence of dreams. The day he compromises on life the way it is, he drops his dreams down the well. To him, a dream is not just a dream that you might see with your eyes deep shut; he says that it’s a vision you see with your wide opened eyes. And it brings a life to your life (He is very philosophical lol). Oh, he has some passions, which he practices, discreetly. Discreetly, because he arts Abstraction, and people fail to understand or appreciate it.

Modes of Expression: Words, Pictures and Dreams

Juggan writes and he is a very brilliant photographer. His story plots are like dynamites and his pictures are bombs. He writes about moments and is skilled to find feelings behind the lens of his stupid cell phone’s camera. He keeps saving different kind of dialogues said by unknown characters of the stories he never intends to write or have plots for (true writer). Sometimes, he drags creativity into the flow of his life and writes very deep and meaningful poems, which cannot ever be written by me. Of course, his poems needs more practice and style but he is better than me at poems.

He reads Haroon Jilani, Paulo Coelho, Sidney, James Hadley, Mohsin Hamid and a few others and he likes Paulo the most. But I’m sure that I’m his favorite writer because his favorites and mine because they are same.

I advise him to do something worthy in life that really pays you back. And whenever I say it, his ears get deaf; some pitchy scream starts roaring his head and he gets creepy feelings inside his nails till I finish my lecture. I’m not sure whether or not his ears bleed. He just hates advises that focus his future.

I also keep messegin him the lines that come to my mind (Jab aamad hoti hai). The reason is that my phone has a tiny memory. Besides, I send him so to make him have the idea of the structure of my themed-lines around which I built stories. So he is learning the need of a whole story just to express a tiny thing.

Love Life

I don’t much know about his concepts about Love but I know that his love is always one-sided, unsaid. Once, I had seen him going wild and impatient for a teen-girl who hosted a TV show on Geo. The show was hell boring, and his love was hell blind. He always watched it till the end. Later, he started developing some delicate feelings for Katrina Kaif.

This is how she drove him crazy

He stayed under her spell for quite long and finally gave up on her one day when he came across VJ Mahira – a bone of contention between brothers like us. Then, his life was all about Mahira. He ate, breathed, and drank all the things that have Mahira written over. He also downloaded her wallpapers to his cell phone, which he watched carefully before going to sleep every night. But like always, his love died. This time, it died after hearing that Mahira is already married.

This explains why!

It banged his life up, broke his dreams to pieces and his spirits just evaporated out of his soul. It was a tough time for him, of course; and he had gone far away from a normal-social life.

He thought love is a relationship. But he didn’t know that love is more than just a relationship. Due to this deadly ignorance, he started wasting his life. Like all the losers, he too was about to indulge himself in vodka, wine, bitches and weed but then, fortunately, he met Sara Zara on his TV screen. She has won some singing competition somewhere and he just lost his heart right there – love at first sight. Now, his phone has a good collection of Sara’s beautiful voice.

Things He Avoids

• Making Sense
• School
• Rocking Saturday Nights
• Shaking his booty
• Shaking legs and beating soles to the floor when we both are face to face with techno, dance and uplifting psychedelic trance sessions
• Winking as well as whistling at hot chicks on Fashion TV (Paris)
• Sleeping till 4pm
• Keeping a lighter – He believes that the fire looks better when it is in your heart rather than you pockets
• Replacing a pack stuffed with 20 Cigs every two days
• Getting high or HIGH
• Trying ecstasies and risks
• Sharing and Generosity
• Avoiding edibles when he is not hungry
• Singing in his heavy voice with an ‘Aaaan” factor because it sounds like his vocal cords are located somewhere in his nosy(Lol. I too sound alike btw. So, dude, don’t take it on your heart)
• Expressing his feelings wildly or naturally
• Replying late to texts messages and missed calls
• Telling his Mom that he loves her the most
• Saying that he wants me to be his best friend
• Etc. (Yeah, the list has length

The Way He is Treated by This Cruel World

I don’t want to say anything about others because I’m bad at others. But I must confess that I have not been nice to him most of the times. I feel sorry for not answering most of his weird questions; for taking out my frustration on him by taunting, passing angered gestures which made him feel that he has made a mistake; for ignoring him at times when I wanted to spend time alone; and for not loving him as much as he loves me. I used to criticize him a lot, which might have damaged some of his natural traits, and I feel sorry if that’s the case. But he knows me and bears with me because he knows that I love him too. Anyway, he is good. But he ain’t better than me. And I’m better because he follows me. The day he starts following himself, we two might compete.

PS:

Come on, dude! You know that I’m your best friend and a brother. Remember this, and fuck every single problem of yours – try trusting my friendship. Godspeed!

He finally finds a way and says, “Do you know why people shake hands when they meet?”

“Because, it erases boundaries. And it is more like a religious trait, right?” She answers politely.

He half agrees. “Yes, but its strange that we never shake hands whenever we meet. Although, I try to, but I don’t know why…. I avoid it, deliberately!”

She knows the reason. “So, what’s the reason?”

“Don’t you know?” He smiles.

She hides her smile. “Why do you want to shake hands when we meet, hun? There are no boundaries between us that could be erased”

He softly takes her hand and holds it in his right, gripping it firmly. “There must be some reason we are asked to shake hands every time we humans meet. May be, like they say, ‘when we shake hands, we exchange our feelings; we hand over what we feel.’ I am not aware of human anatomy, but I think that our right hands are somehow connected with our hearts. It is like, ermmm…. With out hands, we unite the spirits that we actually are! We shake hands, and we transmit our feelings to each other; and with two spirits being one, we send peace to each other. I just wanted to see what you feel, and you to know what I feel. I came to know about all this today, you know? And I want to know how does it feel to shake hands with ‘you’ when I know why people shake hands”.

She’s inspired and believes him. He stands up; she stays. He offers her his hand and his eyes make a requests . “I don’t know how to dance, but will you take my hand tonight? Let’s dance”.

She smiles widely and holds his hand, which is warm. Warmer now. He holds her hand softly but very firmly. She stands up and his shoulder gently borrows her empty hand. And they dance.

“Did I tell you that I like your name? It is beautiful” he discreetly says.

She blushes. “Yes, you have said that a thousand times.”

“But I don’t remember saying that saying your name sounds like I’m pronouncing love itself. I did, eh?”

“May be, but there’s nothing wrong if you say it all over again. I like it when you say. Her heart beats. Faster.

He smilingly frowns. His fingers touch the tips of her fingers and allow her to move around – she moves around and they keep dancing.

“Do you like ‘my’ name?” His tone is suspicious, but wrapped with expectations.

She knows that he knows and she understands why he asked it.  “I do, but I don’t know how to express my feelings like you do. Words are not friends with me and you already know me more; like I know you more. So many ‘knows’ and you still don’t know! She acts as if she is angry.

He laughs spontaneously. “Okay! Hmmmmm” He stops and stares silently into her eyes. She is uncomfortably happy feeling his gaze. Hearts beat together; the Moon glows brighter; and the waves start breathing. “I’m afraid that I’m madly in love with you and I’m too scared to lose you.”

“Hmmm.” She does not know what to say. Silence. Just a sound of waves crashing into the rocks and foam dying on the sand.

“Can I borrow you from your parents for a lifetime? Let’s change your last name tonight.”

She smiles watching him. “Just a lifetime? What about an eternity?”

But even after all these facts and basic characteristics of Junaid Farooqui, we cannot say that he is a bad guy. There are two obvious stories that explain why. First, he never ever succeeded in actually becoming what he wants to be: a playboy. Second, when I went to Hawk’s Bay for a picnic with Junaid and other office members, I found him alone in the water, trying to splash the waves back and looking for something beyond the limits of the sea that was visible to us. And his facial expressions were pretty serious. Lol. Now imagine serious expressions on Junaid’s face! Obviously, they sound funny and surprising. It was the same what I felt that day: I found it surprisingly funny. It forced me to go to Junaid in an attempt to pursue and kill his grief.

I went to him; and there, with the sounds of waves and warmth of bright Sun, he told me about a girl he was really serious about. And it was probably the first time he had ever been serious about a girl. She studied with him in his seventh or eighth grade – He committed love when he was innocent.  Now, sometimes, he thinks about the times he spent with her and wonders if she got married or improved her taste, because these two possibilities put an end to all those possibilities that can get these two kids together for a happy life ever after. So, he is a man of feelings. He just tries to be notorious. But at heart, he is an innocently mad Romeo.

Okay, that was his basic introduction. Let’s move to a few things that make Junaid Farooqui be who he really is. He is a skilled Web Designer and he is totally professional when it comes to work. We used to work in the same team and there had been so many times when he helped me out in several things that were not his job. He is very co-operative and has quality skills in leadership. He makes decision quickly and very thoughtfully. A few times, he brought my attention to some very delicate content mistakes in one of our mutual project, which made me believe that he has a pair of eagle’s eyes behind his spectacles on his bookish-professor-kind-of face. In his spare time, he keeps checking different websites for new ideas, tips and of course, chicks; his designs are terrific and chicks are pathetic as I already told you. But if appearance were the only thing that matter for a website, Junaid’s sites would be notoriously hot! A lot of affection with women makes him design some extremely hot templates, which can uplift any business. (Damn! So many lies in a day might affect my moral health)

In terms of his nature, Junaid is utterly natural. I mean, being an observer, I never had even a single chance to have thought that this is not what Junaid really said or conveyed. He has always been true even if he had mistakes or whatever. A spontaneous guy who lives life to its fullest. On the other hand, I have some friends (Fasten up your asses, brothers, I’ll write about you soon), who act something else, do something else, mean something else, and fuckin’ feel something else. And their expressions are funny – fake smiles, fake smart-ass attitude and a fucked up brotherhood. I don’t usually ask them to stop bullshitting, but I’m sure they understand my feelings and mean expressions with my zoomed focus. One should be an honest jack rather than being just a jackass. Junaid is an honest ass; a jack as well.

He gives me a hope that there are still chances for applying be-yourself theory. I mean, if Junaid has no regrets being who he really is, it is possible for all others to do the same. And he reminds me of my hyperactive moods. He is so full of life, always looking for trying and leading something new. The life of a party kind of buddy he is! And he makes all of us laugh a lot. If you are friends with Junaid Farooqui and have a problem, it means you are left with half of the problem; he shares it and is there for you when a ‘friend’ is needed. I remember one day I was out of money and my ATM was fucked up. I asked a friend to transfer some amount in Junaid’s bank account. I told Junaid and he skipped his office van, which drops him back at home – a home that is located at a distance of nearly two hours. He stayed there for me because I had no other way. It was a tiny favor but I am a man who remembers everything. There are several other things that can be written to testify Junaid’s friendly and helpful nature, but they might drive him nuts. Admiration, after all, is very deadly when you have never ever been admired before. Anyway, next time whenever you feel bad or buy a problem, make sure you have friends like Junaid Farooqui, Rabeel Arwin Dennis and many more that I’m going to use for an autopsy on this blog.

PS: All the playboy thingy mentioned above is truly an art of fiction, but true to some extent. He designs well anyway and if you want your sites to dress up and look hot, you can check his profile on Facebook.

Catch up the bad guy http://www.facebook.com/junaid.farooqui

I work with a lot of colleagues and most of the times, I’ve been found listening to their stories and silently observing everything that goes around. That, at some point, gives one a lot of benefits because here too, it is all about a seat, a position – politics is same everywhere anyway. I’m not looking for a position here, as the available one does not suit my ass. Here, I’m talking about an ass as well as an ace when it comes to politics: Rabeel Arwin Dennis.

Rabeel is a Christian, but we have the same God; and we are friends. He is a senior to me in my office so, ermmm, obviously he did more time. But it does not seem to have left a deeper impact on him because he still looks the same. He wears spectacles, which fail to make him look like a nerd, of course. And he smokes a lot, which makes me feel like quitting cigarettes once and for all. I know smokers pant pathetically, but Rabeel… let’s not talk about that; talking about it offends him and that is one sensible thing he does smartly.

He doesn’t have an athlete’s body. In fact, he has a big ass and the same size of tummy. Okay! That was true, of course, but it was a joke. He looks sober! And after they have promoted him as a team lead, he comes to office properly dressed, wearing a sober look that certainly justifies his nature. On this note, I would like to make a request to my senior officials – only if any of them happens to read this, which I hope does not happen – that they should keep promoting Rabeel to enhance his looks and style. (I too would love to improve my sense of styling by the way)

He works as a SMO in the same company where I work as a writer, and he is very good at designing social media strategies, internet marketing and several other things that are necessary for being friends with Google. Learning new things and enhancing the level oh his existence are his qualities, which I, sometimes, envy for my lazy routine and Facebook addiction. Oh, Facebook reminds me of his simplicity because even after possessing all such qualities that are necessary for helping a person/ website / blog breathe on the Web as well as for developing a strong business network, his personal Facebook account sucks big time. The reason for committing such crimes is his dedication; like me, I hope, he is also suffering from Obsessive Compulsive disorder – he is a crazy workaholic who spends hours in fixing and polishing the borderlines of his work, which sound to him like a hindrance between his efforts and his expectations. Fortunately, he is a smart guy – talking about his brains only – and he gets good results. Otherwise, compulsive workers have neither a very promising career nor a life as long as they work for someone else. He makes a difference, which leaves me wondering if he has been copying me or something.

He comes to visits my place at times, and we both keep talking about different stuff for hours. I hate the first two hours of our bullshit discussion. We talk about our office and the way things are going down there for the first two hours every time we meet. Later, we would eat at some dhaba nearby, and wandering around we would talk about our lives, which are almost the same and this is why I think we have become close friends. I can talk to him about anything I want to, understanding that he will understand it the way I do. He does the same, I think. He talks a lot. And I always have had a good time with him.

What inspires me to write about Rabeel is his constancy and commitment with his profession, relationship and life. I mean, he always comes up with better and nicer plans for his life and there are no breaks, unlike me. He struggles and keeps it flowing. He might not be knowing it but God has gifted him with a lot of patience, stability and confidence. Almost everyday, he comes up to me; we go out for smoke; and there he tells me something that helps me weave some more ideas and plans. He does get disappointed at times but he keeps things moving. I would say that he is not a very reactive person. Proactive is a better word for him. The same is the story of his love story. He doesn’t seem to be interested in girls, probably because they have a better taste. That’s not true, really! Most possible reason would be love. This guy is madly in love with a girl and his relationship has seen several miracles over the past 8 years. Yes, brother, constancy is what I’m talking about. Eight years! Whoop! His relationship is virtual, but very much real. And both his girl and Rabeel are like souls and spirits of each other’s lives. Love is, basically, his power.

Besides, he has made exceptional friends over these years. What’s wrong in saying, eh? Lol. Okay, let’s not go there. Let’s go back to Rabeel, who also lives a bachelor’s life, making his days all alone, which is very much normal but he’s been doing it in a right and defined direction; and it is nice. Majority of people around are still fuckin their lives, doing the best they can, but in the wrong direction. And then, they blame God for all the choices they made themselves. Okay, let me rephrase it: The choices that they were compelled to make (Note: This line has been rephrased for all those losers who do not accept their faults). I don’t blame all those people who blame God. I don’t even blame them for living a miserable life. I do not because I too haven’t ever succeeded in making perfect decisions in my life. I’m a very lazy person and a very lucky one.

Unlike Rabeel, I’m not a proactive person; I’m very much reactive. I have moods, I have different phases of moods actually, and I have times. Times for killing the time itself watching movies; times for spending my whole weekends with friends and never coming back to my place; times for coming back to life all of a sudden and start working on all those things that make me be; times for doing fuckin’ nothing at all; and times for doing everything at any possible cost. I respect what I possess, as I have utilized these traits of mine in a very productive way, which certainly cuts down my social life and gives it a creepy name, but it is not very much appreciable to live this way even if it is leisurely productive.

It is like you have efforts pasted on one hand of yours and plans on the other, and you keep waiting for the right time to clap. You fail to clap but keep fantasizing the sound that it would have produced. In simple and user-friendly words, you happen to give time to different moods of yours and your plans can go fuck their own asses until you come back to your required set of mind. One should avoid this and stay committed and sober; this is what I learned from Rabeel.

Ps: Rabeel is much more than this. And the badass language used above was just to add a little spice to this post. It wasn’t truly meant to hurt anyone’s feelings. And I, Haroon Jilani, certifies that all the good traits mentioned in this article are true.

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 witness miracles on daily, or you can say, hourly basis. But a miracle is not magic. It is a change; and it can be anything, even a thought. But in every form, it is very much possible.

Most of us are not aware of the purpose and meanings of a prayer, in other words, they do not have the tools to let a miracle happen in their lives. There are thousands of reasons for performing a prayer, or even performing a single step in a prayer, and I welcome everyone to mention it, as I am not aware of all of the reasons. But here, I’m writing about one of the many reasons of prayers and the worth of yourself after offering a prayer. I hope you would see a big change in your prayers if you believe that you are reprogramming yourself… If you believe that you are reminding yourself… of Allah.

1. Takbeer – e – Tehreema —- The Very First Step of Namaz

Definition:
The very first step of namaz, when we take our hands near our ears and say Allah Ho Akbar to begin our prayer, is called Takbeer e Tehreema. Takbeer means Pukaarna – To Call. And Tehreem means Paak – Pure. Takbeer – e – Tehreema means the call which purifies you. Raise your hands to get purified, saying Allah ho Akbar (Allah is greatest). You need to have these meanings and concepts in your mind when you do this.
How To Do It? And Why Do We Do It The Way We Do It?
Raise your hands up to our ear lobes, or near our ears and ensure that your fingers are not packed. Open them up even if they are packed, and raise your hands in that way, with opened and straight hands which are right in the direction of Bait Ullah.

The tips of your fingers should be pointing upwards. This shows that you have come empty handed; you have nothing; and you seek mercy from Allah even when you are out of everything, including virtues. You cannot demand even a single favor in return for your virtues. His blessings are more than we can imagine and our virtues and good deeds certainly do not qualify to match the level.

So, feel it… Feel that you are dropping off all your possessions when you say Allah Ho Akbar – testifying that there is no-one, nothing as greatest as Him. What there is, is Him. And feel that you are going in front of Him after Takbeer – e – Tehreema. As it is meant to purify you, purify yourself. Come in front of God with nothing. Nothing at all, just your existence and your emptiness that needs His mercies and blessings… And EVERYTHING that He gives to you.

When you are performing Takbeer – e – Tehreema, clear your mind and clean your heart. So, there shall be no one at all, not even a single person nor your problems of life, ecstasies, miseries, joys and desires. Your mind should be free. For you are praying for Allah. Not for your problems… For your problem, it is understood that He is already there, and He knows. You are praying because He likes it when you pray. He likes it when you purify yourself, when you get rid of thousands of your problems and everyday matters just by a single testimonial of His greatness. He does like it. And you are praying because you LOVE Him. We like to do a lot of things for our beloved ones, right? Just like that… We pray not for rewards, but for gratifying ourselves, because bowing our head in front of Allah would add more value to our lives.

2. Qayyaam – What Makes It Special?

I’ve read some books on Mind Sciences, Mind Power, Visualization etc, which also includes one of the bestsellers, The Secret. What I’ve read is that one needs to practice his visual powers at least four to five times a day if the objective is to master our thoughts and visual powers. Books said that your body needs to be positioned in a particular manner to emit more of your thoughts when we visualize. The more focused thoughts bring better results. Besides, you have to be in a relaxed position, with vertebral column in a right angled position. Why? Because, there are certain parts in our bodies that are helpful for us to emit our thoughts – our entire vertebral column, abdominal area, palms of our hands, shoulders (including chest and collar bone section) and forehead are the most obvious ones. That is why we feel chills running up our spine when we have goosebumps, or when we shiver.

Sciences says, “It is necessary to practice your mind power four to five times a day”. But Allah has already assigned it as our duty – Qayyam explains it in a better way.

When you have performed Takbeer – e – Tehreema, you join your hands a little above your waist in such a way that your right hand comes on the back of your left one, gripping it from the wrist with the help of your right index finger and right thumb (Girls have a different way of performing a prayer). And you stand right-angled, which means your vertebral column is not bended; it should be straight. 

Next, you can close your eyes if you have some problems in concentrating, but it is recommended that you keep your eyes focused at the exact point where your forehead would kiss the ground in Sajda. Don’t raise your gaze, you are standing in front of Allah.

3. Sanaa (Admiration, Tareef)

Sanaa, which means admiration, is the very next step once you have perfectly positioned yourself in Qayyam. In Sanaa, you should focus on your position — You have just arrived in front of God leaving your entire world behind. So, accept it that you are, where you are – free and selfless – because of your own free will; because you wanted to be there; and accept that this was a profitable deal to leave everything behind and present yourself in front of The Creator. Therefore, to practically perform your free will, you have to admire the reason why you are there, just like lovers do. That’s when you read the holy verses: “Subhaanakallahumma Wa Bay Hamdika, Wa Tabaara Kasmuka, Wa Ta’aala Jaddoka, Wa Laa ilaaha Ghairuk.”

It’s translation is easy and you can learn it by heart it a few seconds. It is not necessary to remember word to word meanings in the beginning; in the beginning, you can just remember the theme of each line associated with a word, which is easy to remember. Therefore, I’m writing the theme of these verses here. I myself am not an expert in dealing with Arabic language.

So, by reciting,

1. SubhaanaKallaHumma

2. WaBay Hamdika

3. WaTabaaraKasmuka

4. WaTa’aala Jadduka

5. WaLaa ilaaha Ghairuk

you tell Allah,

1. “O Allah, You are Pure.”

Remember: Subhaan means Pure.

So,

SubhaanakALLAH, if broken into pieces, gives us two words: Subhaan, and Allah

2.” With your praise, I remember you.”

(Praise Belongs to Allah) – Remember: Hamd means Praise

3. “And blessed is your name”

(Tabarak – Barkat Wala) (Kasmuka has been derived from “Ism”, which means name)

So, remember this word, you will remember that it’s about His name. And you will remember how

blessed is his name.

4. “And high is your majesty”

Ta’Aala> Aala> Superior

Jadduka> Majesty

5.” And none is worthy of worship but you”

You can remember this line easily.

La ilaa ha, means no one but you

Ghairuk> Ghair> Someone else>

Subhaan means Pure. It has been used several times in Namaz i.e, In Rukoo: Subhana Rabbi Al Azeem; and in Sajda: Subhaana Rabbi Al Aalaa. So, it is easier for you to remember the word Subhaan, as it is used several times in a prayer; and it will help you in remembering the meanings of other verses as well.

If you consider the grammatical structure of these verses, you will come to know that these verses have been synthesized for the purpose of a direct conversation with Allah. It means that you are talking directly to Allah when you read these verses. Therefore, you should think about, and realize that you are having a conversation with Allah, who is EVERYTHING. Imagine yourself, and imagine the words you say are being heard by Allah, who created everything, even those words which have been designed for his praise. He makes it easier for us in many ways, most of which we are unable to realize. But here, we have to.

Imagine that you are saying it in the court of Allah. And act like you are standing in front of Him – be focused, attentive and true, because he knows it all. In matters of world, we act smart and are attentive when we are in the company of some supreme personality. We act properly – according the value of the person who is next to us. When be with Allah, be your best practices – considering His powers, His mercies, His Might, and everything else you can think of. It is indeed an honor for us to stand in His court even after having a tiny existence and shabby values.

Say It With Faith; Say It When You Feel

If you can, enhance the concepts and themes of Sanaa – and every part of Salaah – by peeking into deeper meanings of these verses.

When you say Allah is pure, try to locate a few of gazillion reasons that how is he pure? It gives you feelings; it gives you faith; and it strengthens your tone and you say it with even more delight, in an ecstatic way. So, it wipes away all such chances of getting bored in a prayer, or having several other thoughts when you read all these verses for the sake of reciting them. In short, it helps a lot.

So, you know God is pure, but how? Come up with some reasons, use your mind, and ponder upon this nature. There are several other definitions but I would like to say it short and simple: He does not need anything. What else I can say to define it? When you think about His Purity, you think about His powers. When you think about His powers, you think about His blessings…. And when you think about His blessings, you just keep thinking about them until He changes your mind. There would be a lot of things coming in your mind, all at once and together, but you have to keep all the pictures in your mind for some feelings-purpose. Whatever you say, each word you pronounce, you have to feel it. In fact, you don’t HAVE TO. You choose to.

It is one important factor that you should read it in a tone which your own ears are able to understand. Others are not a business of yours. But you should hear whatever you say. Adds more value to your feelings.

When you say, Praise is for You. You should forget all those people, all those things whom you praise on daily basis. You should even neglect your own worth if it is appreciable. All what is there, is there because of Him. Everything that is beautiful, is beautiful because He beautifies it. And so on… You have to forget your ego. If that thought is perfectly embedded in your mind that praise just belongs to Him, you will be able to avoid pride and rudeness. Because you would know that you are what you are just because He helped you be. What is there to be proud of when you know you do not worth a thing. It makes you humble. Reminds you of your origin.

Continued….

p.s: I’m not a religious scholar. Therefore, I would be obliged to have made any corrections in these posts.

Haroon Jilani

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

Because the things you say and the things you do surround me

While you were hanging yourself on someone else’s words

Dying to believe in what you heard

I was staring straight into the shining sun

Lost in thought and lost in time

While the seeds of life and the seeds of change were planted

Outside the rain fell dark and slow

While I pondered on this dangerous but irresistible pastime

I took a heavenly ride through our silence

I knew the moment had arrived For killing the past and coming back to life

I took a heavenly ride through our silence

I knew the waiting had begun And headed straight..into the shining sun

I agree with his philosophy of Shining Sun. Thank you, Ayesha, for giving me such a beautiful song. I loved it.

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 Mr. President and Yousuf Gillani obeys him when he is drunk. He is drunk 24/7 I think)

Kadi Saarwi Layi Rab Sohneya
Tere Shah Nal Ki Ki Kitiyan
Kithey Taaney Maare Patwari
Kithay Dhonse Police Sarkar

This stanza is very simple and it basically highlights our current politics, increasing rate of corruption; and a corrupt society. The context of these verses can be found in the complete poem of Faiz.

Menu Shaahi Nahi Chahi Di
Oh Rab Sohneya
Main Taa Izzat Da Tukkar Mangdaa Haan

These lines can be taken into different perspectives. In view to its context, it opposes the concept of freedom in Pakistan; and Faiz is pleading that he wants nothing, but a little respect. A bite of respect, he says. Who would want to be an emperor of freedom in such a kingdom where Zardari is Mr. President (I would again like to emphasize that I HATE him).

I liked the depth of Faiz’s concept: A King, made by King of Kings, pleading for a bite of respect. This is what it is with us – lets calls it reality, or misery for people who can’t swallow a pill as hard as reality.

Going to yet further meaning of these versus, I see a simple guy, tagged with freedom, dreams, desires and superiority all over him; and around him. And he pleads, unaware of everything that goes around him; unaware of all the corruption, politics and materialism, he just pleads for a bite of respect. Here, the definition of ‘a bite of respect’ changes a little. It no longer means black money or bribe, neither anything else; it means a deed that can make him earn a little respect and love in front of God. The guy of my visions says that he doesn’t want ‘Shahi’ of this world, his world, his Nafs or anything else. He wants to rule no more. Just like we do in ‘Sajda’, unaware of al our possessions, materialistic thoughts and our strengths that can result in conceit in vanity, we surrender and we kneel. The guy is Atif – can’t do anything about my visions.

Kayi Sassiyan Thallan Vich Rulliyan
Kayi Raanjhey Jogi Hoye

These two lines, written just after the ‘Izzat Da Tukkar Mangda’ emphasize on the strength and power of the poet’s plead. Sassi and Jogi are well known for their intense love and affection. I don’t know much about both Sassi and Ranjha but what people say, they were at the extremes of love. So, Sassi wandered in the deserts for what she wanted and Ranjha became a Jogi for the intensity that his visible couldn’t contain. The same way, with the same craze, someone begs for a bite of respect in my visions when I play this song.

Besides, these lines may also refer to the women of Pakistan in today’s bad bad society. I will have to dig some more about Sassi; and what was the purpose of Sassi in this Poem. The transition of Ranjha from a Ranjha to a Jogi is an example of Ishq-e-haqeeqi. I can’t say exactly. Many women in Pakistan died longing for a free life; and to have a kingdom of their own but they were lost somewhere in this society, being just an example of misery and pain. Modern Ranjhas, if we not talk about the lover but dreamers, have somewhat stopped dreaming and desiring. They are tired of having even a hope of some dreams that come true. Many of them die earning bread and sacrificing their damn desires as well as dreams.

And the lover dudes… Let’s not talk about them.

Ohhhh Sawar De Joooo
Tere Nere Karde
Tere Nere Karde

Sawar means Jewelry; a derivation from Sawarna, perhaps. Here, it is important to notice the change in Atif’s tone – its calm but it is at its peak; like the guy singing it has lost everything and forgotten. All he requests is something that can beautify him enough to come closer to God. He asks for a jewel that is pure of everything; free from this world; away from negatives and positives of people; and different from this world and the desires that surround us. All what matters to the jewel is whether Allah likes it, or dislikes it. How many of us has desired for such a jewel? I am wondering about one right now. It’s been often seen that the jewels that are liked by Allah are disliked by this world. The world sees no beauty in it and it often confuses us that why aren’t we being admired. Admired, I said. What else is the purpose of jewel? Someone has beauty, someone has dreams but all of us, after realizing our jewels, want to be heard, be seen and be aware that someone sees the jewels we wear.

But here, we are talking about the jewel that gets us closer to Allah. It needs no definition and we cannot either limit it to certain adjectives. This jewel is what Allah likes; what Allah tells us that He likes.

Mere Hona De
Hore Vere Karde

‘Mere Hona Da Hore Vere Karde’, probably means that let the purpose of my existence be just you. I don’t know Punjabi. I think I will have to edit this post later. And if readers are welcome if they want to add some details or correct me.

Everyone came and left but he, unaware of all these things, remained there. He felt like a numb; and yet he was feeling everything. Sitting there on a lonely life station, he watched everything that wasn’t coming; wasn’t leaving either. Once again, an angel had collided with the aura of his dreams and got scattered in the air for its intense fragility; and for the strength of his dreams.

He felt that the time was slowing down – pausing, moving, coming to an abrupt stop; and taking him with it, suddenly running once again. He couldn’t see what his eyes focused; he saw himself instead – wondering how would he be looking to someone else’s eyes. Everything was quiet – quiet to him. He didn’t hear anything. No one made a noise; no one laughed; birds didn’t chuckle; horns weren’t bunked; and no one sang to him. In fact, no one even moved but the air; and it said, ” This guy, who looked a little or more mad, is going to stay mad no more. He isn’t hurt but someone else. Nothing has come but everything is going to go no more. He is going to live; going to die no more. He will stay but he is going to say no more.”

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, “Dude, why did she leave?”

Believer laughed, “She has just disappeared. She can’t leave you and be strong dude, you have a lot more than what she has. You have got yourself.”

“I know about all the positive philosophies of life but life itself looks like an unseasoned dish; like I’m having the most delicious foods that I would ever have. My life is fulfilling my appetite, but I just I cannot taste its taste without her. “Dreamer confessed.

Believer was trying to making Dreamer understand that he was wrong but he was finding it hard to say in straight words. “You are just obsessed because you are expecting her to be there for you. It happens, dude. When we expect and don’t get anything, it happens. So, quit expecting, quit worrying. That’s what I do.”

The Dreamer said, “Man, I’m making my way to the top; and I’m being appreciated. I’m living my life… But I just can’t feel it without her. Everyday, I wake up, I eat, I work, and I wander and fall asleep. Everything I do comes to an end but her thoughts… They stay. Saying that they can’t betray; but I do. I try to betray myself and do bad things, I live without her and I stay alive but that’s not what bothers me, what bothers me is would she be happy and all right? And I feel so imperfect for making her feel sad all the times, for hurting her and not being honest to her. I don’t want talks; just tell me: will she come back?”
Believer looked at Dreamer and said, “Yes.”

“When?” Asked Dreamer. He so much wanted to hear, “Soon.”

Believer looked into the air, took a last rough puff on his cigarette and blowing the smoke into Dreamer’s face, said, “The time will tell.”
Dreamer was expecting something else but that was a fair deal. At least, it was fair enough when it came from Believer. He was relived after knowing that the time will definitely tell about her arrival. So relieved and anxious, he asked, “What should I do now?”
Believer smiled. “Do what all of us do. Just stay alive and keep watching.”

It was good to hear but it was unexpected. Having Believer say, and say all that was very unnatural. It was always Dreamer who did the talking. Believer stayed quiet and he rarely talked; and he never talked about anything positive. It was different that day. So, Dreamer asked, “Dude, why are you so different today. Thanks for listening to me and saying all that. I wasn’t expecting this from you but I knew that you are the best person to tell. But why are you so helpfully positive today?”

Believer had already thought about it. Thinking was his business; doing was his hobby and winning was his passion, even if it was a conversation. He said, “Because, I felt what you are feeling right now. And I felt bad. You were true and I felt like believing you. It’s a different story that I can’t stay happy when you are sad. I need you alive for my survival. After all, we are spirits of the same soul, eh?“

Posted in Short Stories Tagged: A Dreamer and A Believer, A Fairy And A dreamer, Black and White, Conversation with myself, Fantasy, Fiction, Good and Bad versions, Hallucination, Haroon Jilani, Harun Jilani, he and she, life, My different Parts, Parts of Same Soul, Schizophrenia, Short Stories, Short Story, Spirits, Story, thoughts, Words, Writing

You want to follow me tonight

When in the rest of the World

With you whom I’ve crossed and I’ve quarreled

The guy is, as what he says, tired of being sorry. He doesn’t know anything; doesn’t care for anything; doesn’t hear nor sees anything. He just moves on with all the sorrows that are not known. Bearing with a burden he doesn’t know; and sacrificing for something that exists no more neither was it told nor revealed. With no options left, he gotta be himself.  He has to be patient and bear with all his pains which are not pains actually – just a blend of true and false assumptions.

She doesn’t want to be with him but her soul, her memories and each vision that he envisioned being with her, chases him, follows him and wants to follow him when he sings. He doesn’t know why she wants to follow him, but somewhere in the corner of his mind, he knows that he want her with all her memories to follow him wherever he goes, lives or dies. He repents for what he did; and what for what he couldn’t. But she follows him even after having him gone. He, with whom took place the quarrels; and with him everything came to an end.

Let’s me down so

For a thousand reasons that I know

To share forever the unrest

With all the demons I possess

Beneath the Silver Moon

He wants him to forget himself; wanting what he is to accept everything and took all the blames but he knows a thousands reasons, which are untold. The burden of all those things that weren’t told but still known is more than what he thinks would be justice. He knows that he would suffer forever – hiding what should have been shared inside him. And he would suffer like a daemon, awaking all the animals inside of him, when he would be beneath the silver moon. A silver moon maddens a werewolf when a werewolf is beneath it. Here, she is the silver moon- his passion and extreme that is found guilty of maddening for all the things that occurred. He loves the silver moon – his passions. But his passion becomes his madness as well as the cure. Nothing happens then except the awakening of his daemons.

Maybe you were right
But baby I was lonely
I don’t want to fight
I’m tired of being sorry

Like a daemon he acts and feels. And he screams beneath the silver moon that may be she was right. But he was helpless – he was lonely. It was mistake of no one. She was right. He was lonely…  Now he doesn’t want to fight anymore, to struggle anymore and to make mistakes anymore. He is just sorry for being a part of whatever happened.

8th and ocean drive
With all the vampires and their brides
We’re all bloodless and blind
And longing for a life
Beyond the Silver Moon

He is among all those who have lost their journey; who have become daemons and found the same for themselves; who have escaped; who quit and do nothing but regret. They are bloodless and blind. They don’t have the passion running within themselves anymore and they have stopped dreaming, struggling and seeing what needs to be seen. They are blind as they don’t know how to understand, feel and perceive their lives and the beauties. They can’t see anything… They just spend their lives busy with their own visions and imaginations of regrets. And all of them are dying for a life that can give a life to their lives, beyond the silver moon – something what is more precious and darling from their passions and madness. They are longing for their ecstasy and their dream, which comes forth the silver moon. They are asking for what they have lost. He is asking for her.

I’m standing in the street

Crying out for you

No one sees me

But the Silver Moon

So far away – so outer space

I’ve trashed myself – I’ve lost my way

I’ve got to get to you

(It’s is what I imagine here)

She is the silver moon and everywhere he goes, her light chases her, makes him feel her and maddens him. He is tired of being patient and for being sorry. He can’t resist anymore and he is crying in the streets. And he is crying through his life – abusing it and misusing it. No one knows that he cries but the madness and the feelings that are obsessed of him. Even though, he gets broken and breaks himself. But he still yearns for a cure. To get rid of this what he suffers and find the ultimate cure. And he doesn’t know what path he should take. He has lost his away and he is crying in the street with madness, regret and an urge for a cure. However, he hasn’t given up. He is just sorry… He knows what the cure is; and what is going to help the cure itself. He is standing there, awaiting guidance; and assuring himself that he will get her back. Got to get to you…Got to get to you.. When we have no one to assure us of the things that we want the most, we assure ourselves.

(I didn’t like its video that’s why didn’t put it here)

Posted in Songs Tagged: Blogging, Crying in the street, Cure to madness, Diary, Enrique iglesias, Fantasy, fear, he and she, life, Lost way, Lyrics Tired of being sorry, Madness, Silver Moon, thoughts, Tired of Being Sorry, What do we do when we have no one to assure us, What maddens a werewolf, Writing

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 love with her for one more time. But he pretended to be very stern and strong. Like he always did. “Well, why not? Do you think you are perfect? Let me tell you one thing: I’m not an honest person. Do not believe me when it comes to you. I know I can see no flaws in my dreams, but a dream must also have some effective habits. I want you to be admired. And feel at ease when I’m admiring you.’

She came closer to him; put her arms around his neck and blushingly said, ‘This is the best book I’ve ever read to know about myself. If you can love an imperfection as madly as you do, I’d love to stay imperfect. I would love to spend my life reading you; to be the most defective person of this world; to love you with all my bad habits and acquire all the habits of the most defective people. Will you still love me?’

He couldn’t tolerate her innocence and her sweetest words. Couldn’t control his smile as well. Looking right into the rainbows of her eyes and ignoring her question he asked, “How do you do this? Are you a magician?”
She laughed and felt the crazy style his eyes were gradually adopting. “Yes, I’m a magician but my magic only works on you. Poor you!”
Not taking his eyes off her, he politely asked, “Should I rhyme with your words and say Love you?”

“And you say that I am a magician? I’m in love with you.” She just stared. In fact, both stared into each others eyes and said nothing for a while.

“How do I say I love you, to make you believe that I’m true?” Knowing that he had been believed and trusted, felt as well, he still asked.

“Its not necessary to say love you, just feel it. I’ll know. And…. I believe in you. I’m loving you more than I ever did.” She exclaimed and inquired, ” What are you feeling now? And why aren’t you saying anything? You know I love it when you talk?”

“Yes, sweetheart. I know about everything. I don’t know what am I feeling right now. We were talking about the effective habits. See, you are against the intellect and the wisdom. Senses as well – you drive me crazy.”

“Really?” She pretended to be innocent. “And how do I make this crazy person a little more crazy?”

He didn’t want to talk at that moment, but he knew her better than she knew herself. He had to say something to keep looking at her smile. “I don’t know who created such complicated questions! Sweetheart, I cannot explain craze in words. Not everything can be expressed. Just like you. But in simplest words, I forget how to speak when your craze takes me over. I.. I start cracking weird jokes; I say all the absurd things that are haunting my brains throughout the day; I feel like saying I love you after everything I say and I wish my words, my feelings and my love was something I could hand you over to let you have it forever. Something like an illuminated spirit, which you can hold in your hands, see with your eyes and feel with your heart. And… And a there are a lot of other things that I keep remembering and forgetting with the passage of every single second when I’m with you. See, I said it all. What more do you want?” And he complained, “Don’t make me admire you forcefully. I love everything to be natural. And I love you.”

She was blushing; her cheeks had turned red; her smile was forcing her to close her eyes and she, unaware of all these things, was falling in love with him – deeper than the depths she had ever known. She didn’t move nor did she wanted to. What she wanted was to see him and the way he saw her. She was finding it hard to say anything anymore but she briskly whispered, “Color me with your words. Will you? I need to feel loved.”

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 my eyes, trying to feel that He  is watching me right from my inside, from high above and deep beneath, and from everything I see, hear, feel and believe. And I believe whatever I feel.

The whole world suddenly unveils right in front of my eyes and I see myself following His signs, counting His blessing and longing to make Him be mine. I feel that He smiles to see what would a person do after knowing that his God, his Lord is with him and He will catch him before falling, crying and even dying if His mercy wants to.

Then, I feel ashamed. For a lot of things that I did in my life and unfortunately I still do. For not counting my blessings, and the rate they have been showered onto me; for straying; for not being grateful. But I never lose hope. And I love not losing hope. I keep telling all the people about this.. All of my friends about this feeling of mine, trying to make them feel the same. But it doesn’t seem like they do feel it like I do. I don’t know why.

I give everyone an example of a kid, who is learning how to walk. Someone is always helping him learn how to walk. At first, the kid doesn’t give walking a try. He is afraid to walk, afraid to try. But after sometimes, when his supporter helps him and makes him walk even without his will, he starts believing that there is someone on his back who would care. Who WILL catch him before the fall. He gradually starts developing this belief that someone is eager to help him and he doesn’t need to be afraid.

When he is full of these feelings, he forgets his fears and walks on with his head high, without any doubts. And he enjoys this whole adventure of going through a trial and having someone on your back. Safe side. No Harms. I love to walk on, with no fears but beliefs and a smile which is mine. And I love being protected, being loved and cared. And I love myself.

He created me and thinking about being created by the only perfect Artist, feeling like being an Art of God, being a perfect art. Man, I can’t explain. I love my creator and the way He created me. And I have Him on my back. Thanks, My Lord.

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, he thinks about what’s worth praying for and what’s worth denying. “Just mercy (for my trials) and some dreams! Is that what I’m looking for?  God, My Lord, is that what I should ask when I feel you, when I hear you and when I read what you say? What am I really going to do with it?  What should I really ask for? Shattered dreams and a way to heal?” he, sometimes, asks it out aloud.

And confused with all these thoughts, while he feels God, he asks for nothing, but Him. Who is the best companion? What comes after the dreams? What is your sadness and what are the extremes? Then, after realizing some truths, he teaches himself, “These shattered pieces of memories, courage, fear and the threats, along with some dared breaths; some lonely walks and a mended heart are there, to know Him; to feel Him; to ask for Him and to have Him.

After realizing that, he does nothing but cleans his heart saying that there is nothing, knowing that there is nothing, feeling that there is nothing, believing that there is nothing, but God.

Posted in Short Stories Tagged: Allah, Believing, Blogging, Bowing, Broken, Broken Dreams, dreams, extremes, fear, Feelings, God, Heart, Kneeling, Listening, Love of God, Mercy, Nothing but God, Prayer, Short Stroy, Spirits, Stories, Story, threat, Writing

“Something comes, something leaves, but it never goes in vain.” He remembered something that he had never read in any book. He just knew it, and believed. “One of my destinies is just a few years away.” He announced and laughed. “Years? Man, I’m gonna make them smaller.” he reassured himself and loved what he said. It empowered him, made him feel the warmth in his open palms, and fists that were clenched.

Things werent the way as he he had planned. It just revealed onto him. They, in fact, never are. But he found it extremely distasteful. He wasn’t looking for short itineraries and diminutive destinations, he wanted to cut short the distance that unveiled some big dreams that were big for him at that moment. He wanted a change and he badly wanted it. A big change he told himself. But he found it hard to treats others and be treated by others the way both were doing. That was what made him turn off the lights light a cigarette and rock his feet on the table.

He had been talking business with the struggles and the sunshine, enabling himself to see loads of other roads which if not led to his destinies did lead to a place that empowered some lives, other than his own. “Why do we always have to be ourselves? just if I had others’ rules to play….” He smiled at his own imagination blurred one, knowing that he was selfish and loyal at the same time, with everyone who played justice with him. And it was all he needed, just a fair deal enough for him to forget everything else. “But there are no fair deals.” He said it out aloud, knowing that he was wrong, he persisted that there were no fair deals. And he disliked it the most.

It had been years since the truth had been hiding from him and he had been desperately chasing it. But after years of a chase he was planing to gear up his life, and start living it instead of surviving. However, he had been doing it for the past six months, unknowingly living his life, developing new ideas making new assumptions, false ones, and trying to shift himself on better tracks. “Tracks?Ermmm.. there always are better ones. If they aren’t, we can make them better. Can’t we? Eh? He asked himself. “We can” He paused, and said, ” All it needs is a firm belief in God, and the God himself. Nothing stops you then.”

He again shifted his attentions to the paths that were promising enough to settle some bills and buy some luxuries. “That journey is fast and i would have to forget everything, even my dreams, if I pace my next step to hunt for luxuries. They will come, but I don’t want to miss several beautiful things of life; I want to enjoy it. I want to enjoy every part of my life even the ticks of clock that stood by me in my journey to nowhere, but somewhere. I love all these things, the tiny moments, joy of conquering and the fear to lose it all. And some lucks that pass me by without making me feel warm enough to avail them. I don’t want to miss anything. They make me feel all. They make me feel my existence.”

I made a deal and I represent myself. I should better think about it. Roads stay where they are, I gotta go. The lights that I see and the beliefs that I be, are enought to make me wait, yearn and pray for what God has really planned for me. What else I gotta be? An ordinary dude with a fragile dream?” He blew one last puff into the air, and the room darkened itself. Seeing nothing, knowing nothing and yet beleiving everything, he replied to his question, “Nope. I gotta be me. I gotta be me.”

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