Ahmed Waqar Aziz

I wonder if I haven't accepted it yet or maybe, just maybe, I've become a better person and am now unselfish enough to just be happy for him. He was always laughing. He even went that way... laughing. When you heard his name, instantly his mischievous smile, his unique laughter, his warm and gentle personality and his x-raying eyes, from which you were unable to hide any emotion, came in mind. I always thought of him as a clown - painting a smile on his face to make others smile and be happy even if beneath that paint he was sad himself. He was so very sensitive. Sensitive for everyone. Sometimes you would be forced to think that he had some sort of sensors to know where his help was needed. Whenever you felt like crying, there he was staring into your eyes, declaring the presence of thousands of factories of tears and laughing his hilarious laughter which had the ability to lighten the darkest mood. He was the person who could put a genuine smile on the face of the saddest person on earth. He was incredible... And the best thing - he wasn't afraid. Of anything - except ALLAH SUBHANATALLAH...

 He was the sort of person who could make changes, do magic with what was going on... and even with everything that he had going on, he was always modest. You wouldn't hear of his achievements until someone else brought it up. And he did so much. At 18 he was doing his best to support his parents, juggling all sorts of responsibilities along with being there for Every single person who needed him. He was his parent's best friend, taking care of them at a whole new level. Anyone who talked about him couldn't help feeling proud to be related to him. and the kids.. The kids all loved him, and he loved all of them even more. Just seeing him would put a huge grin on the face of the grumpiest toddler. They swarmed around him like bees with honey. and he never rebuked any of them. Never was his temper short. He would talk to them all day, his deep voice lulling them in a sense of safeness. Even in his own childhood, he had all of these traits, the forgiveness, the empathy, the caring personality... If he saw anything unfair happening, he would step in and stand for the oppressed.

I remember when we first moved to Karachi, I was 8 and the only girl in our age group. My acceptance in the group was only due to him. He was the life and soul of the family, of our little group, of anything he was part of. We were the Fantastic Four and of course he was "the Thing". Underneath all that hard rocky exterior was that sensitive little soul, so pure and innocent. Never will we be able to forget his laughter, so unique, so hilarious, you couldn't help laughing along just at the sound of it. He listened. And he cared. He remembered. And he would always, always observe. This blog started at his insistence, he had seen, in fact read my essays before. There would always be a twinkle in his eye, and he seemed to be fueled with energy all the time. Ever ready to have fun, be it sitting on the tank on the roof in pouring rain and shouting random stuff or jumping up and down the neighbor's walls to get balls without them noticing. There are countless memories... Driving mini-bikes, rooftop football, cleaning the water tank, crank-calling KESC, dumb charades, drawing room cricket, table tennis tournaments, late night movies, cape mount, the list is never ending... 

Never has any one seen him sit still. Even in his sleep, he would not lie straight. Even when he didn't have a ball, his hand would keep mimicking the motions of bowling. He was Athlete of the year and the list of his sport activities was never ending. He was the kind of person who, if he put his mind to it, could do anything... and still be modest. He had a genuine attachment with every person, it was amazing how much space he had in his heart for the love he gave to so many people. Seeing how all of us love him so much, we can only imagine how much ALLAH SUBHANATALLAH loved him. "Inna lillahi wa inna ilaehi raajioon". To Him we belong and to Him we will return." We can only think of it this way: When we have something that is very precious, we only share it with our loved ones. ALLAH SUBHANATALLAH shared him with us for 18 years and we are incredibly lucky for that. Of course all of us mourn, "we could have saved him if we were there," and our own mourning, "Kitna bulaya tha Karachi"... I can only say everything is directed by ALLAH SUBHANATALLAH. It is recorded that once at a companion's death, the Holy Prophet (Peace be upon Him) said: "If only he had passed away in some other country" The companions inquired why so the Holy Prophet (Peace be upon Him) replied: "From where a person is born, to where a person dies, the distance between these two places is the place allocated to that Momin in Heaven."

Karachi to Sharjah, a distance of around 1173 km. MASHALLAH. It's up to us now to fill up that space with beautiful gardens. "SubhanAllahi wa bihamdehi. SubhanAllahe azeem." We can give him so much now, more than we could ever give in this world. And INSHALLAH he is extremely happy, happier than he could ever be in this world. We can only imagine him sitting up there with nanna, laughing uproariously down at us "bechariiis" and "becharays". He always regretted the fact that he wasn't in Karachi when nanna passed away. Little did we know that he would have the honor of being the first one to meet her again. The Holy Prophet (Peace be upon Him) said: "If your loved one is taken away and you do 'sabar', there is nothing less than Heaven for you." Now our path is clear cut. We can include him in the littlest good deeds we do so that the 'ajr' we get goes to him too. So lets get to work, you know he's encouraging you from up there. "Inna lillahi wa inna ilaehi raajioon". To Him we belong and to Him we will return. Never can I write anything good enough to do justice to him. Hope you like this, becharay.

one of those days. when u cant do without the solitude on the roof. i try hard to be normal. I do really.

Beautiful day :)

It's the way a ray of light skips through a falling droplet of water throwing a kaleidoscope of hues your way. It's the way the soft breeze plays with your hair, caressing your cheek as it flows past. It's the way the cool raindrops patter down the bridge of your nose and wet your cheeks oh-ever-so-lightly. It's the way the trees sway to the beat of the drops hitting the ground. It's the way the clouds move serenely past, blushing pink and orange as they approach the sun. It's the freshening smell of moist earth that awakens your senses.
I nod my head to the beat of John Mayer's aptly named song, 3x5 and i cant help but wish for it to come back. I want nothing more right now, then to experience last week's weather all over again. But I guess I should be happy enough that I experienced it. One of my friends who was in Saudi Arabia and just came this week couldnt enjoy it... But she did catch a bit of a drizzle in the morning.. and i can think of more unfortunate people. (hint.hint.)
I remember at then end of grade 10 i wrote a song for my friends. It went something like this:

"The rain's fallin' again,
refreshing the world,
re-livening our senses
and now you're thinking back,
reliving those memories......
Those days, we played
and that tine we shared,
its all coming back to you,
now.
All of it's gone,
a darkness is spreading
no you cant find it now
oh you're hopelessly searching
you know you miss it too
how the world was so peaceful
but its too late
to bring it back
the cheerful laughter
the birds chirping
its all gone
all gone
The rain's fallin' again
reminding you of it
and now you want it back
but now i cant get it.."

I guess it was about how we dont really prize the good times until after they're gone. And then when something happens to make you feel all nostalgic, you can remember the good times and they do still put a smile on your face but then you feel like you have a hole in your chest. That is the longing. the longing for it to come back, to relive your joyful memories. Only that doesnt happen. no, it not that easy. And thats when you feel like this sort of metaphorical darkness - say, a gloom, overcomes you. And that's when you gotta understand that it wont ever happen. Only that times will come that will be as happy and nice as your previous memories. You cant long for the past. You're allowed to be hopeful for the future.

Soy un perdedor, Im a loser Baby, so why dont u kill me?

The above are the epic lyrics of Beck's shit-hot, super-awesome song, "Loser" which was released in 1994 (the epic year i was born in) (hello, that's the reason for it's epic-ness) and gave Beck the popularity he deserved. In the middle of the song he also asks in German, "schprechen sie deutches, baby" which just means, do you know German? (:D). He later admitted that he wrote the song about how he sucked at rapping (hey, this is so relatable!) (You cant write if you cant relate), after which he released the album "Stereopathetic Soulmanure" "STEREOPATHETIC SOUL MANURE". Could there BE any album title awesome-er than this one? No. Furthermore there is a song in the album titled "Dead wild cat" which I think might just be the inspiration for "smelly cat" by Pheobe Buffay (from Friends of course) and then the song "Loser" was covered by the Glee cast. So I have to ask, (Chandler style) Could this BE any awesome-er? :D 

Possessions

Possessions are the belongings of a person that may or may not be of great sentimental value. These possessions  define the owner's personality and his/her sense of individuality. A person who sees the world in its beauty, admiring the unique shapes and hues around him and capturing them in his mind may possess a lot of photos, paintings or even journals. It all goes to differentiate one person to another.

My possessions similarly define my inner persona and signify the stages in my life that have made me who I am today. Being very protective of my belongings, I value all of them exceedingly but my three most treasured possessions are a pen, an iPod and a shawl. 

To any outsider, these things may seem insignificant or even useless. For me these things are linked to three superior aspects in my life. The pen was gifted to me by my grandfather and it was very special. An original Shakespeare antique, it made every word I wrote feel special and would inspire me to no end. I have never been a good orator and writing has been the ideal outlet for my emotions, ideas, thoughts, inspirations and the passion I felt for things. Holding a pen similar to that used by perhaps the greatest writer of all times and times to come, brought compassion to my compositions and a spark of originality. My grandfather who shared my love for reading and writing had given me something that would forever remain special to me. 

Next, my iPod, a common belonging of a teenager. For me, music is not only a muse but a sort of refuge, that forms a solid wall around me, blocking everything out and making me relax enough to rearrange my thoughts and solve my problems. Most of the time I'd like nothing more than to plug in my iPod and curl up with a good book. 

The shawl is perhaps my most prized of the three for it belonged to my late grandmother whom I loved the most. Her gentle character moved me and she had a motherly aura around her that filled me with warmth. Her death came as a shock to me and I struggled to keep myself going, like she would have wanted me to. Her white shawl, which she gave to me before her death emanates the same aura and brings back a flood of memories whenever I see it, instilling in me a desire to follow her example.
Therefore, the pen symbolizes my passion for writing, the iPod, my interest in music and the shawl, love for  

my family. These possessions are a part of me without which I would sure feel incomplete. 

What leadership means to me

"What is a warrior of light?"

"You already know that," she replied with a smile. “He is someone capable of understanding the miracle of life, of fighting to the last for something he believes in and of hearing the bells that the waves set ringing on the seabed”

He had never thought of himself as a warrior of light. The woman seemed to have read his mind.

“Everyone is capable of these things. And, though no one thinks of themselves as the warrior of light, we all are” - PAULO COELHO

 People say leadership is the ability to guide people, to show them the way, or to control them.  They say it’s an inborn talent, and so they classify those few people, leaving the others doomed to be nothing more than followers. Why can’t a quiet person be a leader?  A responsible leader is one who observes and learns, “Shallow waters run deep”. If a person is jovial, it shows an easy going attitude.  After all, if the strings of an instrument are always taut, they go out of tune.

So what are the qualities that crown a leader? I say, there are no such qualities.  The simple key towards this greatness is responsibility. “Responsibility walks hand in hand with capacity and power”. Indeed the latin roots of the word reveal its meanings, the capacity to respond and react. So for me, leadership means taking responsibility, the first step being personal responsibility. For until you have learned to control your own self and channelize your energy in to positive directions no one will want to follow you.  

Leadership requires attitude change.  A simple “I can” does not suffice, it must be, “I will!”  You must create the drive to turn aspiration into actuality and flip perceptions to believe in what must be done. In this journey, you realize who you are and treasure trust as your greatest gift.

I never thought of myself as a leader, for I lacked orator skills. I was bubbling with ideas but alas! I could only write. No one remembers the person who writes the speech. It is the person who makes it his own, who’s remembered. It was up to the leader to choose the idea. I was merely a supplier. And every time, my confidence would ebb to a new low.

I am eternally grateful to the teacher who introduced me to the School of Leadership and led me to participate in the First Junior Leader’s Conference. At first, I thought it was a terrible mistake. I couldn’t express my feelings clearly to my friends, how would I guide strangers to a good cause? But once I got there, I broke through the barrier and gained enough confidence to hold my own. Once I’d gained faith, it was easy enough to gain trust.

 In the conference, they made teams, gave us separate squares to stand in and announced the beginning of a battle. Our weapons were hundreds of balls and our objective was to ensure that not a single ball was in our square by the ending time. Sure enough, as the battle began, everyone started pelting each other with balls. But no matter how hard or how far we threw them, they would always return. All of us had no chance to win and at the end of the battle everyone had lost. That was when our coordinator came and expressed his views. The only way to defeat our enemies was to take the weapons away from them and use them at the last moment. So he went back to the corner and started collecting the balls. He pitched a team of coordinators against all of us and began the battle again. At first we took advantage but soon all the weapons were in their hands. As the countdown hit 5 they let loose our artillery and by 1 all our squares were full. The battle had ended and they had won. And that was when i realized what the real thing was. Sure, there's always quick thinking and practicality involved. But the main thing, is to take responsibility, others will automatically trust you. And once you've earned that, your motive is to never let them down.

Fire - Friend or Enemy?

Fire, the horrendous fiend. When you think of fire, you feel white hot pain and you see the flames of Hell. Is this the backstabbing demon you would like as a friend? Fire is the weapon of the arsonists and the destroyer of homes, families and lives. Millions of burn victims all over the world have to undergo a life full of discrimination and agony after a match with this indestructible force. Fire has no empathy. It burns down acres of vegetation in forest fires, destroying in seconds what took million of years to form. Laying waste to the homes of many animals and the source of food for all.

Fire is always associated with Hell. In many religions, demons are represented by fire. Fear of harm from these demons led fire worshippers to sacrifice many innocent lives. Likewise the spark of a flame attracts the arsonist, using the adrenaline junkie inside him for its own evil purpose. Fire shows no mercy. Using the structure of a building as its ambush, innocent people as live bait, it lures the firemen in its trap to risk their lives in its devilish inferno. Fire should never be underestimated, rather treated with discipline and carbon dioxide.

Charred flesh and burnt wood are the smells on the scene of a building set on fire. It breathes and consumes and intelligently works to prevent its death. How the tiny spark of a matchstick grows into a consuming hell hole? How an innocent campfire can turn in to a raging forest fire, its twisted sense of irony turning a camper’s search for warmth to hopeless tries of escaping its wrath. As a symbol of Hell, destruction and evil, I chose fire as an enemy.

Hello World

Hello World! This is a fifteen- (hey! almost sixteen!)- year old girl starting her first blog! Now i don’t always like doing things the way they’re supposed to be done. So no introduction for you since everything about me is very evident when i write. Yes it is a passion of mine. Ever since I was able to pick up a pencil, I would scribble away, lost in the glory of the worlds I created everyday. When I had perfected my use of verbs, it was a breeze. Or rather an ocean of stories and poems toppling over each other like turbulent waves. No doll would keep me content, nor any other toy. All you had to do was put a book in my hand and watch me submerge. I still love reading books. It’s the way you can forget about everything thats wrong in your life and just sink in to the story. It’s the way it takes you through countless experiences, without actually getting battered by the roughness and leave you with experience, food for thought and the lust to read more. I’ve got my heart broken by the Diary of Anne Frank, experienced magic with Harry Potter
, flew the skies on backs of dragons with Eragon, gone on adventures with Lyra Silvertongue with the Golden Compass, Broken codes with the Digital Fortress and the Lost Symbol and so on. The list is never ending. And i’ve always wanted to write something that others can add to their respective lists. That’s one of my ambitions and I hope to see it come true. And I realize that this is actually the first step. Sure, you might get a “good” or an “excellent” from your teacher on your essays. But to put your work out there, to spread your word out and see how people react, the diverse crowd that they prove to be, that is the thing you’re going for. And I hope that you like this.