Rantings

I’ve been standing at a crossroad in this phase of my life for a very long time now. And I guess, I’ve procrastinated a little (okay, a lot). And it hasn’t helped. Neither has family for that matter.

When should parents back off from trying to control their child’s life? I feel as if I am still their puppet. I try to break free but they won’t keep their hands off of me, and I just trip over and fall each time I make a run for it.

Asian parents are more controlling than the average parent, and I guess one can’t really get them off their backs so easily. Especially Brown parents. Also, especially in a stupid society like Pakistan’s.

But when is enough enough? When do we finally say no? When do we take back our own lives? I want to be the grownup they’ve raised me to be. But HOW do I get this past the thick skulls of theirs? My parents are full of contradictions. On one hand, I am old enough to have 3 kids by now, a house and a husband of my own. But, yet, I am too naive to make my own decisions and too young to take control of my life.

When will parents let their kids finally grow up?

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I’m in Bali!

The last time I was here, it was 20 years ago when I was 5ish. I don’t remember much, but I do remember the sweet roasted corns and the street shops bustling with tourists, also that time at the safari when the giraffe poked his head in the window of our car and smiled at me. 😂😂

This is the twins’ first time here, though and we have new memories to make. ☺️

 

The Richest Poor Man

In Journalism class, many many moons ago, we were asked to select a living influential person, or a celebrity, and write an obituary on them. While my classmates preferred to write on actors and singers, I chose Mr. Edhi. I have always been inspired by him to be a better human. I hope I always am.

Around 2 weeks ago, we lost him. A very remarkable human being, arguably one of the biggest social worker, humanitarian and philanthropist of his era, left behind a whole nation in mourning. What a terrible, terrible blow for us.

The nation’s hero, in the truest sense. He was probably the only good thing (of a few) to come out of this place we call Pakistan. He gave up everything to help the poor, devoted his entire life for the destitute. I feel ashamed, for I am not even half as great, selfless and modest as he was. I hope I always would be encouraged to be more like him.

His passing away is a huge loss for humanity indeed, not just for Pakistan, but for the whole world. One thing I know for sure. Angels do walk on this earth amongst us.

Here is a link to his exceptional foundation that acts as a safety net for the poor, needy and helpless that he created basically out of nothing.

May he rest in peace. Amen. 💔❤️

 

Ali

Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee. His hands can’t hit what his eyes can’t see. 

Rest in peace, Muhammad Ali. May God grant you the highest place in paradise, Ameen. ❤️❤️❤️

I grew up watching your fights on tape, on repeat. Hundred times a day, my brother would rewind, forward and pause and rewind again, and make me and my sister watch all your fights and interviews and glorious moments continuously.

You were really handsome, and tbh, you have set the bar really high for me. I admit I developed a crush on you, from the moment I first saw you on TV. You were so sassy, and beautiful and confident, you stole my heart right there and then!

A couple of years ago, I set up a google alert on my email to get news about you, and I wasn’t prepared for this. It’s so heartbreaking. I was really dreading this day. The good are always the first to leave early. And surely the world is a lot gloomier now that you’re gone.

You will always be remembered by this tomboyish girl. I love you. ❤️❤️❤️

Why friend breakups hurt the most?

Maybe because making friends isn’t easy.

Breaking up with a lover means losing half of your heart, which you can more or less put back together in time. But breaking up with a friend results in losing half of your soul, and that never completely heals. You feel lost, useless and you’ll be afraid… Afraid to find a new friend. And that is devastating.

Losing a friend is just painful. Especially if they were really true friends. Then be prepared for your entire world to crumble up.

I have had a history of friendship breakups all my life. And this one hurt the most. Maybe because now I am older and making friends at this point in my life does not come easy.

Sigh. I’ll be eating icecream alone tonight.

The Wizarding School of my Dreams

What to do when your dream school rejects you?

I always knew Durham as Hogwarts, as parts of the Harry Potter films were shot there, such as this famous scene from the first movie.

harry_potter_philosophers_stone_58

However, it was my last year at college, and my Advanced English teacher, born and raised in UK, asked me about my majors for undergrad university. It was a routine check up for the whole class.

Since I was a shy student, she barely knew anything about me. I told her I wanted to study Creative Writing, and that I was passionate about it, and so, she asked to read my poems.

Later, she called me to the teacher’s room, and we talked for a long time. She was the first and only one to recommend Durham. It’s been almost 6 years since we had that talk, and however I don’t recall much, I do remember her exact words: Durham is Harvard for writers. 

And so, keeping in mind our conversation, I applied to Durham University last month for their Masters program. I was unsure, of course, because Durham is one of the best institutions in the UK.

I hadn’t received a word on the update of my application, and it had been over the usual 6-month period, so I emailed them today. I woke up to find their very bittersweet rejection.

Sure, I am not the best writer out there, but a part of me wasn’t expecting it… Sigh.

There could have been a hundred things they didn’t like about me and honestly, I would have preferred if they had disclosed the reason why I didn’t make the cut.

Was it my writing style, was it boring? Were my poems not professional enough? Dear God, I hope there weren’t any grammatical mistakes. Did my personal essay put them to sleep? Was it my IELTS score? Was my resume not up to point, or was it just me in general? The fact I am an international student and of Pakistani origin?

Any of these could be the reason I didn’t make the final decision, and I really wish they had disclosed what it was. Because these questions will definitely haunt me for a long, long time.