“Why?” She shouts.
He doesn’t answer and looks down.
Her eyes get blurry with tears.
“Why did you had to do this? Why?” She screams and looks at him desperately and questioningly.
He folds his lips inwards.
Her knees feel weak.
‘Dude, come on.’
Her pitch drops, ‘Answer me.’
He stares at the floor while she stares at him.
She places her bruised hand on his shoulder and holds his chin up.
He tries breaking free of her grip but it’s a weak effort.
She looks at him and checks his face.
Yes, she checks his face to see if there are any self abuse marks, dark circles, tears… anything that shows that he was in agony while he did the crime.
Her tender hand holding his face reminds him of his mother but wouldn’t it be wrong to go to her for comfort after killing her father?
He stands there while she hugs him.
There’s a dead body lying a few feet away from them.
There’s a pool of blood near them.
He relaxes while his sister continues hugging him. Looks like killing their abusive father wasn’t such a big deal after all. Maybe they’d live happily ever after.
She pushes something against his spine. He shivers and looks down at his sister with wide eyes.
She pulls the trigger and smiles like a psychopath.
His eyes go huge and she steps aside as he falls onto the cold floor.
Looking around the room, she hysterically laughs and presses the gun against her head.
Her dads soul silently watches the other two souls leave their respective bodies and as the sun sets down, all three of them make their way beyond the seven skies and hopefully live happily ever after.
“Why?” She shouts.
A closed door
Still has a way out.
A closed mind
The only thing that destroys a human is its mindset.
“Whether you think you can, or you think you can’t – you’re right”
“Waiting around for someone else to make you happy is the best way to make you sad”
This one is one of my favorites-
“Making one person smile change the world – maybe not the whole world but their world”
The amazing Wardah nominated me for the Liebstar Award and the Penable Award. I am, indeed, grateful for her! Wardah, for those of you who don’t her, is a really good poetess and her work would remind you of this 🥺🥺 emoticon. She’s super sweet and is really great at calligraphy. She has great content and I have a feeling that some of you might find her words quite relatable. She’s empathetic and when you get to meet her, you’d just wish the world was full of Wardahs… Just head over to her beautiful site and I’m sure it will be love at first sight – that’s at least what happened with me.
- Thank the blogger who nominated you.
- Answer the 11 questions the blogger asked you.
- Nominate 11 bloggers.
- Ask your nominees 11 questions.
- Notify your 11 nominees.
I was actually looking forward to answering these since some of them really made me think.
Do you like spoilers (for books/movies/shows)?
Depends on the book/movie/show.
What is your favorite color?
I don’t really have one particular favourite colour. I like Bright Orange, Dark Blue and Black.
What is the best element of nature?
Do you get scared easily?
I think, yes. I won’t really get nervous about paranormal stuff etc but if you’re going to hide behind the door to surprise me then yeah, chances are you will succeed. But wait, I’ll be surprised not scared. So…
What is your favorite movie genre?
Comedy Drama. Thriller movies too, I guess.
What font looks closest to your handwriting
Huh. This one actually used up a lot of my brain cells. My normal handwriting is between Indie Flower, Chilanka and Shadows into Light – but that is only for English. My Urdu/Arabic handwriting is quite different, hehe.
What is your favorite word?
I like some words either because of how they sound or because of their meaning. Some of my favorite words would be; babble, tenderness, efficiency and fragile.
I also like a few Islamic names because of their meaning like Zoobia which means ‘God granted’ and Shayan which apparently means ‘a person who is worthy and deserves good things in life.’
What do you love most about yourself?
I guess that if I find out I’m doing something wrong, I stop. There have been times when I had the knowledge of what is right and what isn’t, but during the action I won’t realize it. But when I do realize that I’m not being a good person (because I’m doing something I shouldn’t be doing) I genuinely stop. Like I really stop for long term not for just a few days. This is something that I really like about myself.
What book can you read over and over again?
This question was interesting. I can read any Urdu Novel by Umaira Ahmed again and again.
Would you rather want to know when you’re going to die or how?
I’d rather know how I’d die since I think that’s the scary part.
What does your typical outfit look like?
My typical outfit comprises of a short kurti and a dupatta with trouser pants or tracksuit pants. I’m not really into fashion. I just go with anything that looks nice and I’m comfortable in it.
Questions for the chosen ones
- When did you start blogging?
- What is one extreme sport that you’d like to try?
- Where do you see yourself in 5 years?
- Something new you want to try?
- What is one fruit/vegetable which you certainly do not like?
- Who’s someone you look up to?
- What sport do you wish you were good at?
- What’s your favourite ice cream flavor?
- Would you rather be the protagonist or the antagonist in your favourite movie/book?
- What is one subject that you studied/are studying that you despise?
- What is your favourite sauce?
- Tag your post with the #penableaward.
- Display the Penable award logo (above) on your post and follow Penable if you haven’t already.
- Thank the person that nominated you.
- Tell us what your writing talent is.
- Answer three questions that you have been asked.
- Nominate three inspiring people for this award.
- Let them know of their nomination.
- Give them three new questions to answer!
I think my writing talent is writing realistic fiction.
I also took this quiz (confirmation bias to the rescue – hehe) and according to it my writing talent is as a novelist.
What is the best mythical creature?
Interesting one. I like quite a few mythical creatures like the Loch Ness monster, Yeti and Phoenix but the best is probably (no, not a unicorn) a Werewolf! Or maybe a Pegasus…
Do you like rollercoasters?
Nope. But I do like Rollercoaster rides taken using the VR headset. 😉😃
What’s the deepest thing you’ve ever said/heard?
“In the end it’s you against you fighting for yourself” – read this online. It makes perfect sense.
My questions for the nominees
- Share one of your favourite quotes.
- Describe yourself in three words.
- What is one advice you’d like to give to your younger self?
Before I end this post and say alvida to you all, I just want to share this quote I read on this blog-
This piece of fiction was written as a result of a Reedsy prompt. The prompt gave me so many ideas and I knew I had to come up with something. I hope you enjoy reading it. 🙂
“Can you keep a secret?” She comes out of nowhere and questions him.
He takes a moment and looks at her from head to toe. She’s wearing denim blue deck shoes instead of her old white sneakers. Her jeans are decorated with small gemstones near her ankles. Her top is just plain white. Her long black hair is in a high pony tail instead of her usual messy bun. Her face has less makeup than she has normally and she smells of her favorite perfume.
‘She looks… decent today,’ he thinks. ‘Different but simple.’ He thinks to himself, ‘Gosh, she’s pretty’ And meets her eyes with a smile. But her eyes are fixed on his eyes so she doesn’t notice his smile.
She’s waiting for an answer. He looks back at her questioningly, not knowing what to say. She opens her mouth and words flow out.
‘I killed a girl some years back.’
He raises his eyebrow.
‘She was only 12 but her presence made me uncomfortable. She was dumb and useless. I questioned her existence and… and I decided to shoot her’ She elaborates.
She waits for him to say something, but he’s lost in his own thoughts. He’s deep in his past, remembering 5 years back when his autistic sisters dead body was found. ‘She was only 12,’ he had thought the day when he and his parents went to pick up his sisters body, ‘what had her innocent soul done to deserve this?’ A 17-year-old female medical student was suspected. However, since there was no solid proof, the suspect was released. He snaps back into the present and looks at the girl in front of him.
She’s holding him by his shoulders and looks concerned ‘Could this be the one who had killed my sister?’ He thinks in his aching head. He stares blankly at her.
“You’ll keep it a secret, right?” She silently urges him to say yes.
“Whatever you say amazing, whatever you say,” He says after a while and hides his newborn hatred under a sweet smile.
He checks the time on the new wrist watch she had gifted him just last week. It’s almost 10 PM, meaning an hour and a half before the train leaves. He feels inside his jacket pocket. It feels warm. ‘Good,’ he thinks.
He begins to gaze ahead again hoping everything is fine for her. It’s crazy what he’s going to do with her just a couple of hours later from now, yet he still wishes she’s fine. ‘I’m only wishing for her safety so that my plan can work out. Nothing else’ But he’s never good at reassuring himself. He sighs and tries shaking her out of his mind.
No one is alone on this cold winter night at the train station. Well, no one but him. He gazes ahead hoping to spot her and feel the warmth of her smile, and then, there she is walking towards him, with her hair all messed up and her smile upside down.
He rushes forward and helps her into their train cabin. He doesn’t utter a single word, and she appreciates him for that. They have known each other long enough to know when to speak and when not to.
Sitting down beside her, he takes her hand and tries reading her face. Tears start falling from her eyes as if they’re leaves turning brown and falling slowly on the ground, all thanks to gravity.
“It’s alright,” He tries reassuring her.
“No it’s not,” She sounds convinced.
“Believe me, it is,” He tries again.
“I wish I could,” She whispers back.
Some moments past by.
“How are your parents?” He questions her after a while.
“Dad’s locked up in the hospital. He has several wounds and bruises. Oh, it’s all awful…”
“What about your mother?”
“She can’t hold her tears back to see papa in such a state,” She sobs.
“And what about your brother… Eric?” He remembers her only sibling.
She looks down and wipes her nose with the sleeve of her favorite pink sweater.
“He ran away last night,” She says after a while.
“Excuse me?” He exclaims.
She doesn’t reply and looks down. He looks at her for a moment but doesn’t press her. He takes a deep breath. They sit in silence.
2 minutes pass by.
“I hope everything gets better,” He says with the hopes of a thank you in return.
“What’s the point in hoping when everything’s lost!” She wants to say but doesn’t.
“Thanks,” She mumbles and provides him with the thanks he needs.
The train zooms ahead in the darkness.
She lays her head on his shoulder and stares outside the windows in front of her. Tears roll down her cheeks but now she doesn’t care about hiding them. What’s the point in hiding them when the bravest guy she’s known has seen them?
He checks the time on his wrist watch again. ‘Everything must come to an end one day,’ He thinks. He looks up and mumbles a prayer, then he looks sideways at her tear streaked face. Her eyes are closed and she seems to be in a trance. He touches her cheek and smears a tear. He smiles.
He then silently takes out his trusted silencer gun and places it carefully just an inch away from her head.
A storm rises. There’s turmoil inside him. There’s turmoil inside her.
And then boom goes the cannon. And she’s dead. It was no biggie shooting her… right?
Her dead body falls on the passenger cars floor. She’s dead. He’s breathing fast. For 3 whole years he was keeping up with her nonsense and was just playing along till the perfect time for his revenge. She deserved the same death she had granted his sister… yet it hurts him to lose another someone.
As a kid I used to enjoy listening to ‘Rise and Shine’ from Sofia The First. But then this hadeeth changed everything:
But then listening to Music or specifically using and listening to Musical Instruments is halal or not is a debatable topic. Some people believe something while others something else. It is also said that if you doubt if something is acceptable or not, it is then better to leave it.
I’ve listened to different nasheed artists. As a kid I use to enjoy Dawud Wharnsby, Yusuf Islam and Zain Bhika. Then came a time when I used to enjoy nasheeds by Merciful Servant. I liked a few nasheeds by Mishari Al Afasy. Now, I enjoy Illyas Mao, Nadeem Muhammad and Siedd. I’ve listened to Omer Esa, Muslim Belal and Essam Muhammad as well but none of them really appeal me.
Siedd’s Guide Me Back is the remixed version of Shawn Mendes song – There’s Nothing Holdin’ Me Back.
Some people say that even remixed nasheeds aren’t allowed 🤔
It actually took a lot of brain power to choose which ones to add here and which not to…
|La Ilaha Illa Ant – Siedd/vocals only|
|Feel Bad – Nadeem Muhammad/vocals only|
|In my blood – Siedd/vocals only|
|Allah Knows – Zain Bhika|
|Be Happy – Merciful Servant|
|HasbunAllah – Zain Bhika|
|Dunya – Omer Esa|
|In My Feelings x No Guidance – Siedd|
|Rise up – Illyas Mao|
|Seasons and Blessed – Illyas Mao|
|Without you – Nadeem Muhmmad|
I try and stick to accapellas and vocals only. It’s common for me to listening to some nasheed and reading a book. There have been so many times that I’m doing something and a nasheed is playing in the background. Now, listening to a certain nasheed reminds me of a certain book I used to read while listening to it or a certain someone I used to talk to while listening to it. I actually got a bit nostalgic while writing this post since I was remembering and listening to some nasheeds that I used to listen as a kid.
People say that I should listen to Quran instead of these but wouldn’t it be disrespectful to have the Quran playing while reading some thriller novel?
Do you know some great nasheeds? Because I’d like to know them!
Assalamu Alaikum, dear readers!
Yep, I’m alive -Alhumdulillah.
My deepest apologies for disappearing and making my site private. I haven’t been really well lately and there’s a lot going on inside me. A lot of different emotions have been getting me and schools reopening haven’t been the best thing. Making my blog private and inaccessible to you all was a result of an overwhelming emotion I felt.
Now that I’ve managed to convinced myself into opening up this blog again, I’d like to mention a few things.
I’m a 14 year old ambivert who, not surprisingly, has turned out to be a maladaptive day dreamer. I’m studying Computer Science since it sort of runs in the family but moreover, I’ve been interested in it since a kid. I like to waste my time by inspecting a random page and messing around with the code. I’m not into one specific field of it. I enjoyed learning coding a lot last year. Before that I’d spend a lot of time learning to animate on Photoshop. This year, I got to know different things. Most of it was basically revision for me but there were some new techy things that I learnt. But in all honestly, Psychology, human body language and Mental health were my main interest.
Yep, this year I’ve been spending a lot of time studying psychology, mental illnesses, social science, body language and what Islam says about mental health. I also became eager to learn more about Islamic Psychology and I’d recommend The Productive Muslim which is a great site and you definitely need to visit it.
Another thing about me is that I like to research a lot. So give me any random topic and I’d be interested in it. I guess you shouldn’t be surprised if you told me about something and then you find me learning more about it later on but shh! I don’t really like to mention it.
Apart from reading a lot of fiction books, I like to read quotes and proverbs. Since Urdu is my first language, I enjoy reading Urdu mahawre. I’m in love with Urdu shayri and if you can’t understand the shayrs – dude, you’re missing out on a lot.
Poetry in English is still somewhat new to me. I enjoy all kinds of writings that make you feel something deep or are thought provoking. I read novels since they provide me enjoyment, not every book makes you… happy, yk.
If being okay is 0 then I’m at negative 3. Because I’m currently struggling mentally and I’m facing some mental challenges, my physical well being is obviously being affected too. I’m not good at staying hydrated and I have been lagging behind in nutrition which leads me to fatigue or weakness. I know I should look after myself but I guess I can’t. It’s just that when I see someone struggling, I just have this urge to go and help them and then at times, I don’t make boundaries and then I feel emotionally drained and exhausted. If I can’t make myself a priority and if I’m not being able to set boundaries, then I definitely do need some sessions with the counsellor.
Educational institutes have opened up like they were supposed to from 15th September. School and studies have made things harder for me. Monthly assessments have been giving me headaches and the school counsellor won’t be coming back to work for long.
During all this, I’ve convinced my family that I don’t need therapy or any sort of help from someone. The reason why I’m resisting is because I know the solution to all my problems, but I don’t have the motivation to get well. That’s kinda… dumb but it’s alright…
I’m veeeeery grateful for KIELA SKIE for writing this poem called ‘Alone’
As far as I know, I’m experiencing Identity crisis. As a Muslim, I know my ultimate goal in life should be to achieve Jannah which I can by worshipping Allah. But I don’t really know what my passion is. I don’t know what my qualities or weaknesses are. I don’t know what my talent is or even if I have one. I’ve always been told that I’m nice/sweet/respectful but I feel like I’m starting to grow immune to those words. It does always feel nice to hear them especially if they’re genuine compliments but being nice or caring isn’t really… much, right? I know it’s wrong of me to think that way…
Wikipedia explains Identity crisis really well. I’d appreciate if you hit Google and search about it since you ‘never have enough knowledge…’
I’ve being trying to see the religious aspects of these challenges and in all honesty, it’s a lot to deal with. Since a kid, I was always interested in reading the Quran. I guess as a I grew, I lost some interest. But slowly, I’m starting to understand the translation and to go deep in Quranic verses them once again. I’m also trying to spend more time revising the Surahs that I’ve learnt and to actually understand what they’re about. There are a lot of ayahs downloaded in my phone and I like to give myself hope reading them.
You know Allah says in Surah Baqarah that Fa inni Qareeb; I am near. This ayah makes me feel safe. It gives me… warmth and affection, I guess. And then it is said in Surah Shu’rah that ‘And when I am ill, it is He who cures me.’ And since illnesses can be mental illnesses, Allah(SWT) will cure my mental health issues, right? He’ll help me, right? As weird or odd as it sounds, but sometimes when I’m really upset, I recite the dua you’re supposed to recite when someone’s ill. I haven’t told that to anyone yet since I know people will tell me that the dua is for physical injuries…
If someone ever looked at my Pinterest account, I guess then they’d figure out how… messed up I am. I’m actually grateful that almost no one from my friends or family uses Pinterest.
This post was a confession post, I guess. I know this is probably the first post that I’ve published that’s like this.
You might have noticed some changes in my blog and especially the fact I’ve decided to mention my age and that I’ve changed ‘A.M’ which are my initials to ‘Alina.’ I won’t say whether it’s my actual name or just a pen name I’m using. All I know is that I like this name a lot. It kinda feels weird when people now call me Alina instead of ‘A’ but I’ll get used to it. I guess Alina feels… raw and makes me feel… vulnerable?
In the end, to sum it all up – I’ve changed and I’ve felt that change in me. Something inside me has picked up the courage to question things. Questioning people, my interests and a lot of other things have made me realize stuff which I don’t think I would have otherwise. This whole thing started at the beginning of this 6 month long lockdown. I remember having this realization about my friends just 2 or 3 days after the lockdown began. Since then I’ve been gradually getting more upset and frustrated to all this. There were times when I did felt better, mostly after talking to a close friend or someone. This last month, since I spent some time away from the laptop and I even read less amount of books than I normally would, it all grew more heavy for me – especially thanks to schools physically opening up. Someone told me it’s because I’m ‘growing up’ and I’m ‘getting mature’ and later in an effort to tease me in a friendly way, this all is happening since I’m ‘growing brains.’ Lol, sure.
This is definitely a post that would take me a lot of courage to publish but I’ll coax myself into doing it. And heyy, if you’re reading this right now then yayy, I’ve finally gotten to publish it.
Yup, I feel guilty,
And I feel distressed.
I know I shouldn’t have done it,
But I did it blindly anyway.
Things have gone wrong,
And I’m terribly sorry.
I should have been more careful,
And more caring + kind.
But I wasn’t,
And now everything’s messed up!
I’m anxious and living in tension
and completely dissatisfied.
I know what I did,
And I completely own my mistakes…
But will I get a second chance?
I’m kinda doubtful right now,
And kinda going crazy.
Would it even matter
If I maybe… cried?
And it’s not only one thing,
Its actually a lot.
Its easy to smile to strangers,
And don’t tell the sad parts.
But those who know that you’re feeling bad,
is it right for you to open up?
I don’t know…
Sadly, I don’t have the answers.
And how could I,
when I’m lost myself.
How could I answer your queries?
When I have a gazillion questions for you myself?
Its all been hectic,
And kinda weird.
I used to smile,
But now it’s changed.
I’ve lost my sleep and
I’ve resorted to writing it down
Rather than saying it one to one.
And I’m pretty desperate
for some help.
But I have some apologies to get done with,
I still have to clear things up.
Because the other person matters a lot too
Its not about me,
Its not about you,
Its about who’s wrong
And who’s not.
And I know I’m wrong
I shouldn’t have said it
Heyy, what am I even doing now,
crying over spilt milk?!
The best thing is to be more mild.
Stop worrying about everything
and get things straight.
Because I have a whole life to live ahead,
and I can’t let my conscience nudging me throughout it.
I wrote this almost 2 months back. It’s been in my drafts for quite some time. Whenever I read it, I get reminded of the day when I was out in my garden at 4 am in the morning, typing this away on the phone. After writing this, I felt better and then it had started drizzling. Everything’s different now. I’m a bit afraid of the future, of how it’d be and how many more things I’ll have to deal with. I’m afraid of how I’ll be and how my mental health would be in the coming years. I guess that’s all I have to say.
Keep smiling and make memories before its too late.
I feel scared.
I feel suffocated.
I want to get out.
But I’m too afraid to get off my bed.
I don’t want to let go the pillow.
I fear as soon as my feet touches the floor,
A hand will come out from under the bed.
A white manly hand
with scars on the wrist,
and a skull tattoo.
It will pull me down
and I’ll fall flat on the floor.
I’ll be back on the ground,
back where it all started.
Back at square one.
I fear that hand, that’d haunt me
and remind me of the past.
I fear that hand,
that resides under my bed.
I fear it.
So I won’t get off my bed.
I’ll keep sitting where I am
and protect myself.
I want to run.
And I want to go.
And see the bright lights outside.
But I’m too afraid to go.
I’m afraid of the dark.
I’m afraid of the things
I can not see, but only sense…
It’s pitch black.
I feel as if I’m blind.
I’m unable to see anything.
I feel spooked.
I shiver and hug the pillow.
Tears start to fall
but I don’t wipe them.
I’m too busy hugging the pillow for comfort.
Because that’s all I can do.
I’m all alone
in this darkness,
with monsters under my bed.
And gloom around me.
Reminding me of death.
And how alone I’ll feel in the grave.
I’ll be buried and left.
Wrapped up in white
like an Egyptian mummy
and trapped in a box.
Everyone will slowly leave,
and it will just be me
and darkness again.
With the blackness suffocating me,
and I’ll fear the insects lurking around.
I’ll feel hopeless,
Just like now.
Just like now…
I feel forgotten,
All wrapped in a white blanket.
And with monsters from Monsters, inc
under my bed, slowly making their way out.
I feel forgotten.
Maybe I’ll feel forgotten in the grave as well…
I wrote this at like 4 in the morning. I guess I was upset about something that day. 🙂
Salaamzz and hi! My sibling bought these Mango ice lollies which we used to enjoy as kids. It brought back memories and its been quite some years since I had one. I’m enjoying Walls, Cornetto and of course the famous Raju/Rajjo ice cream here a lot lately that I forgot about these childhood favorites. I don’t know where my sibling found these, but I’m glad they did.
Right now, they’re in the freezer and I’ll enjoy them later during the day when I switch on the laptop. It seems like today will be a lazy Sunday.
Stay safe and keep shining.
Have a good day folks.
It’s been raining a lot these days and I’m happy about it. It feels nice to stand on the porch and watch it. If my younger brother spots me standing there, he drags me into the pouring rain. It can be pretty enjoyable, and with everything else going on, it’s good to grab whatever happiness you can and smile. It’s good to forget your woes and wounds for a while. May the rain wash away all our pains and miseries. And may we all become a better version of ourselves. Ameen.
Here are some pictures from my garden taken throughout this month.
The rain falls because
the sky can no longer
handle its heaviness.
Just like that, the tears
the heart can no longer handle the pain.
~ Dinesh Kumar
The clouds let go of what
is dumped inside them.
Maybe it’s time for us
to do the same.
Clouds come floating into my life,
No longer to carry rain or usher storm,
but to add colour to my sunset sky.
~ Rabindranath Tagore
For a long time, I was interested in writing six word stories. Making them up seemed fun and challenging. So I decided to give it a try. Below are some of my favourite six word stories. Most of them were found on Pinterest, while some of them are written by me.
- I doubted you and vice versa. And that is how it ended. //anonymous
- She’s a maze with no escape. //Perry poetry
- ‘It won’t be easy,’ she said. ‘It never was,’ and she sighed.
- You’re still someone I write about.
- I disappear sometimes. It’s my thing. //I.funny.co
- Time: The healer and the killer.
- ‘Who hurt you?’ ‘My own expectations.’ //some random person
- All we have is right now.
- What cannot be said will be wept. //Sappho
- I hope you end up happy. //anonymous
- Chaos is a friend of mine. //Bob Dylan
- Be stronger than what breaks you. //Saru Singhal
- She wore a smile like a loaded gun. //Atticus
- Make peace with your broken pieces. //r.h.sin
- I’ll never be that me again. //unnamed
- You are enough, a thousand times.
- Please let these feelings fade away. //Perry Poetry
- Let it hurt, then let it go. //r.h.sin
- Strangers. Friends. Family. Then strangers again.
- Wild spirit, soft heart, sweet soul. //butterflies rising
- I lost you and found myself.