I’ve come to a point where I no longer trust anybody. I don’t let anybody come close to me. Because trust for me is letting someone come close to you and opening yourself up to them. Exposing yourself to them, letting them see your weaknesses, relying on them, depending on them for your happiness and letting them into your heart. Because when they leave, it feels like they took a piece of you away with them, ripped out your heart, you feel exposed like being stripped naked in front of the whole world and the hollow space they leave where they once resided in your heart, aches and burns like it’s on fire and frankly it seems that way as well. And in the end, all you can do is watch them walk away, while you stand amongst the rubble and wreckage of what was once your soul.
Hairat hoti hai Karachi walon key sabr aur bardasht par,
Itna kuch sehtay hain, itney zulm jhailtey hain,
Lekin phir bhi, har subah phir jaag uthtey hain,
Ik nai umeed sey, ik nai justaju sey.
Tou phir maan lo, in key dilon meh jo aag jalti hai,
Iss ko bujhana na mumkin hai.
Aren’t you surprised at the patience and tolerance of the people of Karachi?
They endure so much cruelty, withstand injustice.
And yet, every morning, they rise again,
With a new hope, with a new quest.
And you have to admit, the fire that burns in their hearts,
Can not be extinguished.
Kis qadr sharm ka muqaam hai yeh, keh Musalman honey key bawujood, humey Khuda sey ziada logon ka khauf hai.
Translation: The height of embarrassment, that being a Muslim, we fear people more than we fear God.
Because, you are my drug and I’m addicted to you ❤
PS. That tumblr address at the corner is my tumblr blog 🙂
What is it with people? Is it their hobby or something? Their passion? Something they take pleasure in? A past time? Something that makes them feel alive?
People love to disappoint, don’t they? It’s just that when you start to get closer to somebody and you get to know them, you start to expect things out of them. At first its little things and then big ones. It all goes fine at first and you are high up in the sky on cloud 9. But then the person get’s a sudden urge to pull you down. They disappoint you, in the worst way possible. And it breaks your heart. Shatters it. You cry, you scream but nobody else knows because you keep it to yourself. Soon enough you realize that it was your fault after all. You are the one who expected something. You are the one who gave them the opportunity to break you. And after that, you wipe your tears, you get up and walk away carrying the memory of the pain you felt. You make it a habit never to expect anything out of anybody. You don’t let anybody get close to you. You put up a barrier against people, even the ones you love. You vow to protect yourself from that heartbreak.
But once in a while, a person comes around. A person who makes you want to lower the barrier and to give him a chance. And silly as you are you neglect the memory you carry with you. You forget the pain you felt, the agony you went through. And yet again, you give them the chance. You let them come close. You begin to expect things from them. And once again, you are disappointed. You are broken. You fall, you cry, you scream. You realize your mistake. You wipe your tears, you get up and walk away, this time carrying a new memory of pain with you.
A good book + Winter + Under the blankets + Coffee = Paradise.
I am so in love with books that if you were to trap me in a room with no communication with the world outside and good books all around me, I could last very long. It’s just that books fascinate me. The fact that someone somewhere who might even be dead knows you although you have never met them. Their words touch your heart in way actions can’t. Their words have the power to bring you to tears and make you smile and laugh.They are speaking clearly and directly to you. When I’ve finished a good book I feel a sense of being complete and a sadness that it’s over. Books are like best friends, and really good ones too. They never betray you or lie to you. They are there for you even after years of being neglected. To me reading a book is like living another life, on you can return to every now and then during the day. It’s a life you can love over and over again. And frankly speaking, I would choose that life over this one any day.
A few years back, my mom said something to me and that sentence still rings in my ear every time I’m about to do something wrong. She said, “Never do such an act that compels you to hide it from your mom.” See every one of has a different point of view about things. For example; for some coming home late is no big deal but for others it is considered a big issue. Our values are related to our surroundings. Our friends and family have the same school of thought. if you are doing something so shameful that you can’t even bother telling your mother or your friends about it then surely it is wrong. They are bound to disapprove of your actions because that is not who you are. Deep down, even you know that what you are doing is wrong which is the main reason why you prefer to keep it a secret. Never do something that contradicts your character. It’s wrong and you know it.
I recently had a couple of counseling sessions with the Co-ordinator of our section which was a result of me doing something that got me in trouble. Anyhow, those two session made me realize something about us. Most of us make descisions according to the people involved rather than our values. Our values are basically the our own personal laws. Often we make descision out of peer pressure or merely to do a favor or please somebody. Those descision usually disagree with our values. I myself have made descisions like those. Dares that I didn’t want to do but I completed them just for the sake of the people around me. We know that what we are doing is wrong yet we silence our conscience and continue to do the wrong because of people. But how important are people when you yourself aren’t important in your own eyes? When you don’t respect your values and yourself then nobody respects you. Because on people’s eyes you are only what you appear to be. True appearances don’t matter, but you don’t need to potray an image that disagrees with your personality delibrately.
By Amanda Wan, keeper of “at musing’s end”
I’m starting to think that I am becoming infected by this ‘disease.’ :@