Mind took the edge away.
Eyes took the light away.
Steps took the breath away.
Then I took myself away.

Night screamed when I got a beam.
Wisdom screamed when I got prisoned.
Place screamed when I reached.
Then I took myself away.

He left when I sneaked in.
Voices left when I made a choice.
Spirits left when I ended.
Then I took myself away.

Past was recognized long ago.
Future was recognized the previous time.
Bliss was never recognized here.
Then I took myself away.

Time is nearer.
Place is decided.
Date is decided.
Then I took myself away.

Lost my mind too soon.
Lost my breath too soon.
Lost my path too soon.
Lost myself too soon.

( A satirical moment of my life
ended up writing this poetry
but took the restlessness


Big day April 26,2015

Hello! How are you people. I know you’ve been great all the time. And so I have been.
Today It’s been 17 years seeing this world with the same eyes with the same aspects.

Time chases you like a hungry dog chases his master for the meat he holds in his hand.
People chases you like a deep blue fish chases its prey.
Likewise this world has been chasing you since you have been in your mother’s tummy. So being a chaser depletes a big influence on this world and the people who are living in here.

A big day basically describes the inner thoughts that I almost felt the whole day. Yesterday was a birthday of an anonymous girl with an alternate “Fizza Batool/Bukhari.
She maybe the thoughts I thought of. Maybe the treasure of her room. She actually remind me of her living cage. Yes, the cage of her dreams and books. Laughters and tricks. Mistakes and faithfulness.
Wow, I utterly described myself being the most common defined person.

The day was as gentle as the breeze. My activities were no longer alive. The day took all of it. Sunday used to be one of the deadliest day of the whole life. As compared to yesterday It was bit confused. What to wear? Where to look? Where to sit? What to eat? Whom to respond first?
A messed big day.

The one previously competed relatively better than this one. Just because god gave me what I never wished for. I remember one of my favourite quotes here,
“You offered me what wasn’t even your’s”. – Charles Bukowski

The day wasn’t celebrated but contained a hangout with a surprise. Friends came along my house. They wanted to give a little before the time it was but couldn’t actually made it. Somewhat I liked it for being a guest by their own. At least someone cares about that.

Late night was preferably family zone. So smoked earlier to get rid of the nasty smoke from my body. And in order to do that, washed up myself just to make the reek forget me.

After getting dressed, people took me out. We dine in to eat the best steaks of Lahore. Gun smoke was the place to get ourselves fully entertain with food. To be very honest when I entered that place I quickly ordered because of not being hungry but to taste their new steak. Grilled beef steak woth some onions, carrot and a mushroom sauce served with french fries. It took 10 minutes to get it serve to our table. And the rest 15 minutes to clean up all the mess around our table.

Such a lovely time it was. Yeah! I still don’t believe that I almost spent those two hours with my family with the most enjoyable moments of my ever 17th part of life.

And I believe that time brings you a tour off your life, you just have to tighten your seat belt in order to prevent any damage to your life.

One day later.
3:25 PM

The unforgettable mistake.

I am sitting in the lounge with a lighted cigarette in my hand. Just thinking about the loss I went through. My eyes are still on the right side so that If anyone comes, I may hide my reeking otherwise it will be bad for me.
For not having in my life states that I should scratch myself excluding the sensitive parts of my body. A friend used to say that. But now I have lost that friend infact she was a bitch who came into my life and ruined everything up till now. She decided to ditch me before my special day or so called “Birthday”.

“Birthday” I haven’t heard that word in the previous 2 years of my life, it suddenly came into my friends mind. My friends once said, We don’t believe in birthday’s and neither I. But to make them believe that Zainab (Bitch) threw a party for me which was seemingly not organized properly like one should be. I actually don’t remember it accurately. It was in the summers, last maybe. The date was 16/05/2014 or so I remember. It wasn’t that horrible for all of us but one made it. I still remember the dialogues that I spoke to her. She fought with me on the silly reason I never agreed. It freaks me much whenever I think about it.
I never thought of such a present that would change our lives in such a way we haven’t thought ever.

But then I realize what ever happens, there’s a betterment ofcourse. We lived our lives according to that. Now the point is will she be ever seen in the here after live here. I am screwed up. I ended myself doing nothing.

According to a poet, “A life spent making mistakes is not only more honourable but more useful than a life spent doing nothing”. So in accordance to that I am happy with my life. I have soo much around me. I don’t want someone to get around by to take care of myself.
It’s not the person that take cares of you, It’s the payback he gives which was given to him by you.

“Friends” somewhat like “Shifa” , she who is comparatively small. But thinks a big and helps me to take everything slightly slowly. She who has a flat tummy(which everyone needs) with big eyes, relatively no butt and a shiny white face more like a vampire. I used to say that to her. She still hangouts whenever I asked her to. She’s still safer with me.
Next comes, Zainab who was once happy and tricked by us everytime we wish to. Relatively have same appearance like the previous one had. A big changes occurred after 2 years of our friendship. As person changes with time. She left getting a title “Bitch” in her life. Forget it.
Thirdly comes, Amna well she too had similar appearance as the other two had. They almost looked the same heighted minions approximately 5’1 inch. I always thought that I was the odd one in all of them just because I had a big length approx 5’7 inch. but unfortunately the egg broke on the wrong side and appeared that the bitch ditched us. Will I ever forget that? Well there is nothing to remember about too.

I have regrets but none opens on the right format. Every regret requires the correct pathway. And sadly I don’t have one. If coding is the easy way to do, I will remain silent in that case. Because It makes me mad when I start doing it. I am computer softec with no rue.

Summarizing the above title ” The unforgettable mistake” , I learned something new from my live. And forgot that learning something makes the previous information grow older or fresh.



Dreamt of flying on the starry sky
With the wings and the eyes on the grid
Looking for an absolution that would never come
Strive to get far away
Put the heads off the knees
Where there is a big difference between a man and an animal
To seek and to find
The disparity would last forever

The more you go up in the air
the less you think about the world
straighten the tied toes with the rocks
more you would feel to live again

Time passes you to the edge of tomorrow.
Press the trigger to make that stop
No matter how force it takes
Better to make that that work

Bird keeps on flying in the air
Until they are stopped by an external force
As the world doesn’t cares much
Stop being bothering anyone

Pressure is least expected
Fly over and over again
because these bastards care much
Fly till the predator catch you

Breathe before giving up
See around before closing those eyes
Spit on the world
Fly over and over again.

I, The stupid common person.

This place is no more present to live a happy life due to some circumstances that have been following us in every aspect of life. If I am not wrong who on earth wants to die rather having a pleasant life. I basically is the one person who seemingly wants to agree to this point in accordance to the present world health.

The blog didn’t took a start but a preface to the brief life of mine. I am a person with different possibilities. Like everyone have. I look for the dull side first rather than jumping to the brighter side. I am a painless person. To look on the dull side means to acknowledge the life of those human beings who have been living in that phase for the previous centuries. The people who can’t even get out of that messy track. Their track has been so muddy that he have been drowned down to some extinct. Some are barefoot or some are shod. Some have shaved ankles or some have rough fingers. Some have skinny skin or some have flawed skin. Some have dull complexion or some have brighter. Some have ironic look while some have innocent. Some desire to live as long without enough contamination while some praise to get the better lives than other. Some migrate in the belief of their prophets while some lives and eat whatever they are provided with without any thanks prayer. Some opt for the salvation while some go for the transgression.   Some people live their lives to get fetched or some gets fetched to live.

In this “all” seems to be us but in real no one actually believes his/her mistakes. No one is pure. Nor this nation, nor their people nor the believers nor the sinners. Sometimes they actually think of god too. Is he a pure avatar? Doesn’t he have such flaws? Isn’t he payable to anyone?  Just because I do not accept the teachings of the devotaries does not mean I’ve discarded a belief in right and wrong.”
But the almighty determines what is right!
Must someone, some unseen thing, declare what is right for it to be right? I believe that my own morality -which answers only to my heart – is more sure and true than the morality of those who do right only because they fear retribution
From this I am confused to get them answered. Are these valid question? Well from my viewpoint they are. If we are payable to him in the heaven after then he would be one of us who would be owing someone there. It is when we think we can act like God, that all respect is lost, and I think this is the downfall of peace. We lie if we say we do not see color and culture and difference. We fool ourselves and cheat ourselves when we say that all of us are the same. We should not want to be the same as others and we should not want others to be the same as us. Rather, we ought to glory and shine in all of our differences, flaunting them fabulously for all to see! It is never a conformity that we need! We need not to conform! What we need is to burst out into all these beautiful colors!

But what I am related to is the self-eastern of myself. I felt warm hearted for everyone expect myself. I lean to learn everything I find interesting. I behaved like once I did. I take challenges for being a winner and a loser too. I don’t make a promise I cannot keep. I write because this is the only way I communicate to myself broadly.

I like to be myself. I once changes myself and maybe that was the biggest mistake of my life. I won’t repeat until I am asked to.  I do have some regrets but at some time I tie a stone to make those fall apart from the mountain I have built inside myself.

Other than I’m just a stupid common person wanting to clear away all my misdemeanour’s

April, 12, 2015
4:50 PM

Poetry A World’s Stage.

All The World’s A Stage All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely players; They have their exits and their entrances, And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse’s arms. Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school. And then the lover, Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad Made to his mistress’ eyebrow. Then a soldier, Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard, Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel, Seeking the bubble reputation Even in the cannon’s mouth. And then the justice, In fair round belly with good capon lined, With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws and modern instances; And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slippered pantaloon, With spectacles on nose and pouch on side; His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness and mere oblivion, Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything. -William Shakespeare.

The Icecream People

The lady has me temporarily off the bottle and now the pecker stands up better. however, things change overnight– instead of listening to Shostakovich and Mozart through a smeared haze of smoke the nights change, new complexities: we drive to Baskin-Robbins, 31 flavors: Rocky Road, Bubble Gum, Apricot Ice, Strawberry Cheesecake, Chocolate Mint… we park outside and look at icecream people a very healthy and satisfied people, nary a potential suicide in sight (they probably even vote) and I tell her “what if the boys saw me go in there? suppose they find out I’m going in for a walnut peach sundae?” “come on, chicken,” she laughs and we go in and stand with the icecream people. none of them are cursing or threatening the clerks. there seem to be no hangovers or grievances. I am alarmed at the placid and calm wave that flows about. I feel like a leper in a beauty contest. we finally get our sundaes and sit in the car and eat them. I must admit they are quite good. a curious new world. (all my friends tell me I am looking better. “you’re looking good, man, we thought you were going to die there for a while…”) –those 4,500 dark nights, the jails, the hospitals… and later that night there is use for the pecker, use for love, and it is glorious, long and true, and afterwards we speak of easy things; our heads by the open window with the moonlight looking through, we sleep in each other’s arms. the icecream people make me feel good, inside and out. – Charles Bukowski The Poor Ghost “Oh whence do you come, my dear friend, to me, With your golden hair all fallen below your knee, And your face as white as snowdrops on the lea, And your voice as hollow as the hollow sea?” “From the other world I come back to you, My locks are uncurled with dripping drenching dew. You know the old, whilst I know the new: But tomorrow you shall know this too.” “Oh not tomorrow into the dark, I pray; Oh not tomorrow, too soon to go away: Here I feel warm and well-content and gay: Give me another year, another day.” “Am I so changed in a day and a night That mine own only love shrinks from me with fright, Is fain to turn away to left or right And cover up his eyes from the sight?” “Indeed I loved you, my chosen friend, I loved you for life, but life has an end; Thro’ sickness I was ready to tend: But death mars all, which we cannot mend. “Indeed I loved you; I love you yet If you will stay where your bed is set, Where I have planted a violet Which the wind waves, which the dew makes wet.” “Life is gone, then love too is gone, It was a reed that I leant upon: Never doubt 1 will leave you alone And not wake you rattling bone with bone. “I go home alone to my bed, Dug deep at the foot and deep at the head, Roofed in with a load of lead, Warm enough for the forgotten dead. “But why did your tears soak thro’ the clay, And why did your sobs wake me where I lay? I was away, far enough away: Let me sleep now till the Judgement Day.” – Christina Rossetti
#Poetry #Mysticism

See Yourself Through a Different Set of Eyes

The Daily Post

As bloggers, we’re constantly defining ourselves to our readers. Through our photos, our stories, our poetry, our recipes, or our podcasts, we tell the world who we are. Even those of us who share a great deal of our personal lives still only give snippets of ourselves. We create a public persona (even our choices of blog themes reflect the way we want to represent ourselves online). We choose what we want to share of ourselves, and our readers fill in the rest according to their own points of view. Every reader might have a slightly different idea of who you truly are.

I’ve been thinking about how this applies to my daily life. I have an unconscious habit of creating stories about people I see, but whom I only know in “snippets.” The barista at my local coffee shop, the surly bus driver who never smiles at me no…

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Dark new ages of the shade

I am the shade.
If you’re watching this, this means your soul is finally at rest. Driven underground, I must speak to the world from deep with the earth, exiled to this gloomy carven where the blood red waters collect into the lagoon that reflects no stars.
But this is my paradise…. the perfect womb of my fragile child.

Soon you will know what I have left behind. And yet even here. I sense the footfalls of the ignorant souls who pursue me.. willing to stop at nothing to thwart my actions.

Forgive them, you might say.for what they know not what they do. But there comes a moment in history when ignorance is no longer a forgiveable offense… a moment when only wisdom has the power to absolve.

With purity of conscience, I have bequeathed to you all the gift of hope, of salvation, of tomorrow.
And yet there are still those who hunt me like a dog, fueled by a self righteous belief that I am a mad lady. There is a silver haired beauty who dares call me a monster! Like the blind clerics who lobbied for death of Copernicus, She scorns me as a demon, Terrified that I have glimpsed the truth.
But I am not a prophet.
I am your salvation.
I am the shade.

Bipolar decrement theme

It is good to have someone around you maybe that consoles you a lot, Figuring different kinds of muddle. For that you’re just a piece of insanity that goes with the windy harbour. You fight with the different circumstances you fit into. That’s not what is likely to get handled off. You are nothing but a piece of meatloaf streaming through the blood strains all your body.
This needs to get shut down when you really don’t think what’s being around you. Does the surrounding of your’s matter? If it it does, then you’re the one to make it safe.
Now a days what people face is fascism, dictatorship, despotism, xenophobia etc. We try to dismiss such possibilities but can’t overcome such issues. The whole world faces the anxiety with a reluctant mind that  is soon going to burst out, ripped into piece with the leftovers.

I still can’t think where to start from, Well it has to be one thing getting start with, Why not delinquency. Yeah that’s more appropriate to get intro duct with. Highlighting the major aspects to this issue is that the criminal is either one who is a frustrated striver forced into delinquency by his acceptance of goals common to us all or one who is an innocent foreigner attempting to obey the rules of a society that is not in a position to make the law or define “evil” conduct. Rather he states the case that delinquents are often free of serious intimate attachments, aspirations, and moral beliefs that bind most people under the theory of social control. Does that shows humanity somewhere. I might be debating on that topic after some while before this domain ends. If I don’t make it count, or somewhat believe that I had died. No joke.

I have a freaked up mind, I sometimes know nothing about what I am writing, What I’m thinking. How am I gonna make it. NOTHING plain speaking. Further I want to make a toast for the elder generation. I love their teachings, It enhanced me to learn a bit more. Yes! A bit, not a way more. But a bit. That’s enough for me all the way. So a big congo to all those freak heads like me.

Secondly I am going to ventilate the ongoing affair on dominance and submission role playing practices.The four letters can be read in two ways: either as the initialism for Bondage, Dominance-games and Sadomasochism, or as being a condensed version of Bondage and Discipline + Dominance and Submission + Sadism and Masochism. This has been the worst part to discuss but we really need to get that. It’s not a dealing to get a dependent on self-identification shared experience but concludes much chunk with it like it’s existence, Use of a dominant or submission partner,  then the erotic manic phase, getting forwarded to the depression face and at last suggesting therapy. How many phases each can handle? I don’t think a common dooper can handle all those pieces in one hand. It’s hard to say. But what I really want to talk right now is that is there any antibiotic for such harnessed activities. If does, Get me a bunch. Who asked you to stay a Virgin Mary but at least can stay in the frontier with some called neutral powers.

I know I have been stretching that a way wise, That’s the best I can do. Do what you surely like. Have sex with different breeds, wear condoms if necessary. Nobody would be interfering unless there’s a black hole. We are what we stand with. We reach the eternities with the shit we carry with ourself. It’s time to flush away the horse shit before leaving. Trust me, You’ll feel lighter. At least that tummy would be getting something new to digest.

I speak much so for that I must be concluding this issue in the middle of the night. I appreciated that my note listened me first time. He didn’t ran away being doubtless. Stay grasped.
#Bipolar #Sentenced #Theoretical

3:54 AM
Tuesday, March,24.15

She ran towards her room with warm tears streaming down her glum face. She was tired. Tired of the arguments. Tired of being hurt. Tired of wanting to run away from home without a place to hide.

Then, as she glanced into the mirror she knew. It hit her, harshly, painfully, because she had ignored it for so long. It was evident, she was lost, and there was only One hope.

She’d lost herself along the way, losing herself in the process. It was easier to cope with her tests in the past, but now, as she had drifted away from Him, it had become harder not to shout. It was difficult not to fight back. It was tough not to storm out of the room stubbornly, rather than reason with them, because, maybe, just maybe it may penetrate their hearts.

She had lost hope.

Hardened. That is what she had become, her lack of care had infiltrated her soul. She didn’t bother to purify herself regularly as she had once done. Her prayers were empty. Her time was ill spent.

It was time to return, and she was certain He would guide her once again.

He’d find her, regardless of what she had become.

She walked away from her mirror and wiped away her tears. On the side of her bed she picked up her prayer mat and began to pray.

She found her Creator and realised He’d never left.

Girl of his imagination.

Before writing this i was in leaning behind you feeling  that when I look in the mirror, I know I’m looking at someone who isn’t sure she deserves to be loved at all.I’d learned that some things are best kept secret.There are moments when i wish i could roll back the clock and take all the sadness away, but i have a feeling that if i did, the joy would be gone as well. So i take the memories as they come, accepting them all, letting them guide me whenever i can. We’d met at a carefree time, a moment full of promise, in its place now were the harsh lessons of the real world. We shall deceive every possibility that has came in our way. No matter how big it is like wise,part of me aches at the thought of her being so close yet so untouchable, but her story and mine are different now. It wasn’t easy for me to accept this simple truth, because there was a time when our stories were the same, but that was six years and two lifetimes ago.
When He think of her and what they shared. He know it would be easy for others to dismiss our time together as simply a by-product of the days and nights we spent by the sea, a fling that, in the long run, would mean absolutely nothing. That’s why he don’t tell people about them. They wouldn’t understand, and he don’t feel the need to explain, simply because he know in my heart how real it was… how real this is. When he think of her,he cant help smiling, knowing that she completed him somehow. He loved her, not just for now, but for always, and He dream of the day that she will take him in her arms again.But…as bad as it was, He learned something about himself. That he could go through something like that and survive. he meant, he know it could have been worse–a lot worse– but for her, it was all he could have handled at the time. And he learned from it..Regrets about the journey, maybe, but not the destination.And when her lips met his, he knew that he could live to be a hundred and visit every country in the world, but nothing would ever compare to that single moment when he first kissed the girl of his dreams and knew that his love would last forever.