Friday, October 29, 2010

Shattered Dreams


Her smile used to mesmerize me. Her eyes made the stars lose their brilliance. When the wind would blow, her golden locks would flow with it, merrily, in a harmonious motion. She was perfect. And I was in love with an angel.

Sarah was the reason why I lived; the reason why I smiled; the reason why life meant so much to me. Being an orphan, my life was a living nightmare...nothing more. I had no known blood relations- I was a stranger in this unfamiliar world. But when I entered high school, my life took a new turn.

Now it wasn't only me, it was 'us'. Sarah and I spent eight years together; laughing, smiling, crying, dancing- Living life in the true sense. Worries, tension, problems, failure- We had pushed these words out of our dictionary. Till we were together, life was perfect.

But one day, everything changed.

"Josh, I have to tell you something...I should have told you this before..."
I could sense that something was wrong. Her once sparkly eyes had lost their charm.
I looked into her troubled eyes.
"What? You didn't find that dress you wanted for Lauren's party?" I merrily asked her.
She smiled. It was a crooked smile. Something was definitely wrong.
"I want to end this relationship, Josh. I have to..."

Her voice faded. I had been struck badly. It seemed as if my mum had just told me that in reality I had been dropped by a stork from heaven.
It was unbelievable; I could sense my heart beat going slow. My hands went numb, and my vision blurred.

Sarah, why did you do this to me? You said we'd stay together. You said we'd get married. You said we'd live together, laugh together, cry together. We were half-way through- and you promised Sarah...you promised that we would die together...side by side...

I couldn't say this. I had no strength. Sarah was my strength. But my angel was no longer with me.

Three days later, the phone rings. I'm too weak to get up. My punctured hands can not move. I need it...I need the syringe, the phone can wait.

It keeps ringing. I give myself a doze of heroin. It feels so good. I feel so happy, just like I was when Sarah was with me. Look what you've done to me Sarah....
I pick up the phone.

"Josh? Stacy here. Erm...well, I am really sorry about Sarah..."
My heart skipped a beat.
"Sarah is no longer with me. We broke up. OK?" I shouted.
"Josh...Sarah passed away yesterday. It was last stage Leukemia. Didn't you know?"
I dropped the receiver. My lips were trembling. A tear trickled down my cheek and then slowly beads of tears covered my nose-bridge.

It was obvious she never intended to keep her promise. She knew she had less time. She knew she would die before me. She knew we couldn't die together, side by side.
My angel left me- this time forever.





Sunday, October 10, 2010

Paul Coelho - "Warrior of Light"

Those who appear in your life whether to help or to harm,are all sent by God. Meet all of them with a peaceful heart but with a warrior's spirit. You will fail many times but in failing you'll learn and in learning you'll find your way. Remember there are no mistakes in life but only lessons. And lessons will keep on repeating themselves until learned!

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Makes me wonder....



As every second passes by I become more and more insensitive. Bomb blasts, fights on petty petty issues in school , useless assumptions, apparent misunderstandings, bound-to-perish expectations...the conclusion of everything just accumulates as a huge lump in my blood and dissolves within no time. Every day I live a new life, forgetting everything that happened yesterday or day before yesterday. Hundreds of people die; I hear the cries of the helpless people, non-stop, on every TV channel; my heart aches- but the moment that sight vanishes, I'm back to normal.
Yes- this is the life of a typical Pakistani teenager.

It seems as if everything has value except for humans. The strip of 'Breaking News' seems to be permanently fixed on every news channel containing something or the other related to the the number of deaths. 25...54...63...these figures seem to be nothing more than just numbers. They portray absolutely nothing; not the number of families getting ruined, not the number of children becoming orphans, not the number of wives becoming helpless....they're just hollow numbers, nothing more.

We pity those who die, thank God that we're the lucky ones not involved in it, and sleep after praying hard that tomorrow too we end up alive...and not as one of those who are being mourned upon now. We become insensitive, because we can't feel their pain. It just reflects from the surface of our bodies, instead of penetrating into our hearts. And even if at times, the pain does penetrate inside and succeeds in melting our hearts, our brain remains unaffected and our actions unaltered. What can we do?
Cry? Protest?
Or move on; just like we have been doing since the past 63 years.

The fact is that now no-one cares. Why should they? they're alive. They're safe. And they have some hope that they will keep on surviving.
But who knows what nightmare tomorrow might bring with it...

You see nothing matters here...Nothing except your own life. We're programmed that way- to sit and watch with our hands folded. We want opportunities to appear all by themselves, we want success to follow us wherever we go, and we want to be happy without shedding even a single tear. We love remaining non-motile, stationary- just like non-living things. All we care for is our pain. Now, all of us can't be Mother Teresa! But what we can do is talk. And not the productive talking, mind you. We can discuss events temporarily, just to calm our conscience. We can put emotes on statuses, we can use 'big big' phrases to express our sorrow...and that is where our abilities come to an end. That's precisely how we get rid of our guilt. But our souls still have blood on them. Blood of those thousands of innocent people who lost their lives- in vain.

Whatever is happening will happen. I can't stop it. You can't stop it. Let's be selfish- We've always been selfish. Now why should we stop and ponder. We all have our very own escape- double nationalities?
People will die- 'They' (Apparently it's always the Talibans- That does make me wonder a LOT) will keep on killing them ruthlessly, mercilessly, inhumanly. We'll watch, remain mum, blog about it, put up statuses, expect a holiday the next day- and sleep. Our living nightmare would come to an end. And we'd then live in our dreams...trying to imagine a happily ever after.
We'll build castles in the air and the moment we'll open our eyes- a bomb blast would turn the mere foundations we had laid down for those castles into nothing but rubble.

I wish I could help those children. I wish I could help those mothers. I wish I could help my brothers and sisters. I wish I could help humanity. I wish I could help them all.
But I can only wish.
Do dreams really turn into reality?