When I look at this water,

I think I see me.

Polluted, full of impurities;

pieces scattered

that either stay and taunt

or sink and go deep down

where no one can see.

Humans come and go,

and this water keeps flowing.

Never calm, never stagnant,

always relentlessly moving.


The benthic dwellers

difficult to schlep onto the top

of the gushing liquid.

When I look at it,

it’s no wonder I see resemblance.

I imagine my reflection

on it’s rough surface

and I imagine it’s reflection

inside me.

I visited the beach today after almost an year. That’s a looooong time for me. It was a good trip. Wrote this after coming back. Look after yourself, folks.

The tramp across the street

As you turn the corner, a passing stranger palms you a set of keys. ‘It’s the red house,’ they whisper. You slowly nod and silently put the keys in your coat pocket.

You look around to see if anyone has noticed anything. The tramp sitting on cardboard sheets across the street is looking at you.

He has seen everything.

Feeling sudden irritation, you walk over to him and quietly give some cash to the tramp to buy his silence. The tramp raises an eyebrow but smiles. The smile annoys you.

You turn around and wait for the traffic light to turn red. The tramp suddenly stands up which causes his body to brush against yours. You sense a smirk on his face but you comfort yourself that you must have imagined it. Hastily, you walk across the road.

As you reach the other side, you turn around and find it a little strange that the tramp and his possessions have so quickly disappeared. You reach inside your coat pocket but… it’s empty…

You feel angry towards the pickpocketing tramp for his deed. Moreover, you feel panicky.

In a small area a little further from the bustling city, a man in shabby winter clothes passes a string through a set of stolen keys and gives the toy to his starving son. As the tramp watches his son happily playing with his new toy, he prays to his Lord to forgive him for his act. The man then gets up to find some food for his starving baby with the cash he just got. The toy won’t distract him for long.

26 October 2020

I wonder if things will be normal in 2021. I certainly do not wish to experience another pandemic in my lifetime.

Most of my time this week and some of the last week was spent at home. I had a common cold, terrible fluctuating headaches and fever for a couple of days. I don’t usually get sick, but yes, I do need to strengthen my immunity system. Thanks to all this, I missed a Physics test and a very important session by the counsellor apart from a lot of classes. But despite all of that gloominess and sickness, I tried my best to keep my spirits up and hey, I finally saw the bright side of things.

So yayy.

I did a lot of stuff to keep myself occupied. I apologized to Duolingo for disappearing and started back with Spanish. I started learning Spanish some months back. I guess I always focus more on the listening and the vocabulary part then the speaking part. I also started with Scottish Gaelic. I guess learning Gaelic might seem strange but I find it interesting. Trust me, Gaelic isn’t that hard but the pronunciations are unexpected.

Apart from Coughing and sneezing, I played some cool games online. I’m not really into games but the novel I was reading was kinda boring (Anne Franks diary) so I searched up shooter games instead. I actually liked some of them.

I doodled a lot. I wrote more than I usually did. I came across some really epic novels. I, umm, tried studying but I didn’t made much progress since… I was having headaches, right? Lol. I’d rather do something and distract myself than sleep or rest just because I have a headache. But when you’re sick, you fall asleep anyway. Soo… 👀

Aight, gotta go.

I wrote this around 26 October. I basically freaked out some people by getting sick. Doubts of me being infected with ‘something serious’ somehow had crept their way in my mind. Lucky for me, all those negative thoughts were pushed at the back since I was getting constant updates of how much I was missing out in school. The good part was, the session I missed was recorded so it pretty much made up for everything (Yeah, I’m big on Counsellor sessions) andddddd it turned out that if I had taken that Physics test, It would have been easy for me. Congrats to me again. I got better in the next week or so. Nowadays, I occasionally do open up Duolingo and retake tests of the levels I’ve completed so far and even though this way I’m slow at learning new things, I’m happy with it. 🙂

I could sum up those two weeks with this: Foggy at first, but then came the windshield wiper. Lol. Being optimistic isn’t always easy, but at least I try.

Smile pleaseeee 🥺


The Sofa

Well, that was tiring.

I used to have this really comfy single sofa/couch in my room and most of my mornings were spent sitting cross-legged on it, with my orange ‘Wonderfuel’ cup filled with tea and looking out the window into the garden. Usually, after I read the Quran after Fair, I used to open up some pdf novel on my phone and start reading it then and there. It was on the corner of the room, and half of it was hidden behind a cupboard so, if someone entered my room, they weren’t able to spot me in the first place.

Now, I liked this sofa very much except for one thing – it’s bulkiness. It’s a wooden one and is bulky. Really bulky. I’m someone who prefers to have space in my room, and I’m always changing and moving the furniture in my room. It’s like every week I think, ‘what if I kept this here and moved that there?’ and boy, do my parents look at me blankly.
After almost 2 years of my room interior changing every month, they’ve given up on asking me why did I change it. I like to spice things up, you know. And the best part is, when no one bothers me about whatever I plan to do, I get to work and think in silence and without interferences and ‘suggestions.’ And since most of the things in my room are either light or have wheels, I don’t need to make my brother or dad suffer with some Manly work. I’m completely fine on my own.

Getting back to the sofa… even though I really liked having it in my room, it’s bulkiness wasn’t something I appreciated. It took up a lot of space and if I had to move it around or just change its direction, it took some strength.
Last month I had gotten rid of a lot of things in my room and I had asked my parents to arrange the sofa to be donated somewhere because I didn’t wanted anymore bulky and huge things in my room. It was a spur of the moment decision. After that, I had forgotten that this sofa wouldn’t be with me for long.

I used to enjoy my mornings (not that I often woke up before 9 or 10) there like I used to and it was the best spot to look outside from when it was raining. Which means the best pictures could be taken from there as well anddddddd it was also a great for using the laptop and the window and the lighting in that corner, gave it a cozy environment. You can also imagine me sitting there and doodling. But yeah, there was a huge chance of falling asleep if you were studying there or were a least bit tired or bored.

Anyways, I had forgotten about me giving it away… Until today. In the morning, Ammi (mom) told me the people she had contacted were coming to pick up some other furniture for donation, so if I wanted to give my sofa, I could take help and place it on the front porch. That made me think for a while. I had the decision of keeping it or giving it away for charity.

Hard choice.

Since I was a kid, I used to always give away what I had intended to give away. No matter how much useful it could be to me in the future, or if I later wanted to keep it, I’d fight my feelings and give that thing up. At times, I could be impulsive but then I’d stick to my decision if it seemed right. And later on, I won’t feel any regret for doing it. Someone out there needed this piece of furniture more than me. Somewhere out there probably deserved it more than me. It would always feel wrong and I’d feel guilty if I kept something that I had once planned to give it to someone else.

The answer was clear. I was now fine with the fact that it was bulky and would like to keep it… but that’s not what I did. We ended up moving it and we were able to place it on the front porch. Right now, it’s still outside since the van hasn’t came yet. I’ve switched my wooden desk with a black movable computer table and I have a footstool placed at the spot where my old friend used to be. I’m glad I didn’t keep it and I think I made the right decision. What do you think?

Written on 7 sept 2020/Monday

Wow, it’s a bit funny to see myself write all that for just a piece of furniture.
I didn’t know what to write about and after going through a number of drafts, I found this one interesting.

I recently hit 50+ followers on WordPress soooooo… thanks everyone 😀

I came across this image some time back. It makes perfect sense and it’s reassuring.

Aight, that’s all for now. Byeeee

The piano

With a sigh you walk into your lonely house looking gloomy like usual. You take off your black coat and drape it over the sofa in the longue. You head over to the corner of the huge family room, keep your brief case down on the floor by the big piano and silently pull out the stool. Being as quiet as you are, you sit on the bench and roll your sleeves back. You look up at the massive Victorian wall clock and check the the time – it’s 10 minutes to 9 pm.

You look down at the keyboard and take a deep breath. Your hands have already creeped up and positioned themselves on different keys. You open your mouth and after a while a hoarse sound comes out. You shut your mouth. You straighten up a bit and try again but your throat feels scratchy and seems like you need to drink some water. So that’s what you do.

You slowly turn around and scan the room. You sigh feeling nostalgic and feel guilty for not taking care of the house like your mother used to. Before you get teary eyed, you stand up and walk briskly to the fridge. The only thing in it is some tomatoes and a water bottle.

You take out a glass cup and after the saltwater is ready, you gargle. The sounds made by your mouth disturbs the serenity of the huge family room.

After feeling a bit better and sighing yet once again, you go back to the Piano bench without so much as a creak, sit down and roll your white sleeves back once again.

As you play the piano, you sing. You get lost in the whole piano and singing part that you don’t realize how long you’ve been at it. At precisely 10 o’clock, you stop. Even though you live alone, someone starts clapping for you.

The prompt – You live alone and have just finished playing at your piano. Someone starts clapping for you.


“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.
The End.

Liebstar and Penable Award 😃

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?

Hmm… Water?

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.

Indie Flower
Shadows into Light

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

  1. When did you start blogging?
  2. What is one extreme sport that you’d like to try?
  3. Where do you see yourself in 5 years?
  4. Something new you want to try?
  5. What is one fruit/vegetable which you certainly do not like?
  6. Who’s someone you look up to?
  7. What sport do you wish you were good at?
  8. What’s your favourite ice cream flavor?
  9. Would you rather be the protagonist or the antagonist in your favourite movie/book?
  10. What is one subject that you studied/are studying that you despise?
  11. What is your favourite sauce?


Thanks again to Wardah for nominating me and thanks to Phoenix for starting this!


  • 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!

Writing Talent

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

  1. Share one of your favourite quotes.
  2. Describe yourself in three words.
  3. 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-

What you seek is seeking you


“I killed a girl some years back”

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.

Nasheed addict

As a kid I used to enjoy listening to ‘Rise and Shine’ from Sofia The First. But then this hadeeth changed everything:

Narrated Abu ‘Amir or Abu Malik Al-Ash’ari that he heard the Prophet saying, “From among my followers there will be some people who will consider illegal sexual intercourse, the wearing of silk, the drinking of alcoholic drinks and the use of musical instruments, as lawful…

Sahih Bukhari – Book (drinks) – Hadeeth #494

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.

The Prophet Muhammad (S.A.W) said; “Leave that which makes you doubt for what that which does not make you doubt. The truth brings tranquility while falsehood sows doubt”

At-Tirmidhi – Hadeeth #2518

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 – Guide Me Back/Vocals only

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!

– Alina