Category Archives: Blog

Giving into failure…

Do you ever become so tired of fighting that you willingly give into failure? You stab yourself in the back so no one else would have the chance to do it. You fall to your knees, clench your teeth as tightly as you can and scream until your own voice gives up on you and then you give up on yourself.

It’s like you accept failure even before you try. You give into defeat even before you start the war. You lower your weapons and your guard and wait for that blow and when it hits, it knocks the breath out of you. You become so helpless that no matter how hard you try, you can’t seem to rise. It’s like the ground has wrapped its arms around you and is pulling you down (and in this case, it’s definitely not gravity).

Why do we do this? Why do we let doubt cloud our judgments? Why do we accept defeat when the outcomes are infinite? Maybe because the thought of losing is worse than the actual loss. Maybe because it’s better to be prepared for the worse; it hurts less. Maybe we’re actually scared of winning, scared of not knowing what will happen. Maybe it’s the unknown that hurts. If we knew and we were a hundred percent sure that we would lose, it wouldn’t cause too much damage. But not knowing and having that tiny glint of hope is what makes us ache at the end.

But the thing no one has ever told me is that fighting isn’t always about winning. It’s about falling, crashing, bleeding and then rising and reforming. The bravest warriors don’t come out of war wearing a crown and a silk cloak. They come out in pieces. In ruins. In wrecks with tears spilling down their cheeks. They come out with wounds as big as the sky and cuts as deep as the ocean.

They’re torn and broken, but they manage to keep themselves together. These warriors don’t always win every war, but they make every war count. They learn from their fall and pick themselves up no matter how badly injured they are. They strike and plunge. Hit and ache, but they don’t give up. They find new ways. New paths. New strategies. They learn from defeat and fight until they have no option than to rise.

This is how life is. You won’t always win. You won’t always get your way. You’ll fall, just as you will rise. You’ll drown but that’s the only way you’ll learn how to float. It’s hard. I know. But the next time life drags you down and threatens you with all of its pawns. Smile. Look it in the eye and say, “bring it on.”

Photo by Sharon McCutcheon from Pexels

Commitment

I have a phobia of elevators and of tight spaces. I’m also scared of animals and sometimes of thunder… and of being alone and the list goes on. But the one thing that makes me cage my heart behind thick metal bars is commitment. I’m even terrified of the word, like saying it out loud will bound me to some sort of spell. The word is like a curse, it’s tabooed.

I don’t want to break so I won’t join the pieces of me that are already broken. You can’t break something that’s not fixed. I’ll ignore things or avoid them, hoping they’ll get better on their own (they usually get worse). And I find myself drowning in the same ocean I was so desperately trying to escape.

In this whole process the broken pieces I’m trying to avoid, tend to prick me like thorns. I try to cover up my wounds with smiles as fake as unicorns. I will clench my teeth until they tear, but I won’t tell anyone what’s bothering me. I could be dying, but I won’t say a word. I’m wired all wrong, and I don’t know how to untangle myself.

I’m not scared of the action of commitment, more of the outcome. I guess I’m so scared of making the wrong choices that I’ve decided to not make a choice at all. I don’t want to get hurt, so I refuse to love. If I don’t love I won’t break. And if I don’t break, I’ll be strong. Easy Logic.

But no matter how hard I try, sometimes my feelings leak through me like a small crack in a dam, and I can’t hold it in anymore, and I explode and ache in all the wrong places.

To escape this cycle. I blame other people- my parents, siblings, friends, God, destiny, fate, my ancestors for not fighting off the British any sooner. Doesn’t make sense I know, but it makes sense in my mind.

The worst thing about all this is that in this whole process I tend to hurt those around me too. I break others in an attempt to heal. But in the end, all that’s left are just bruises that leave scars so deep no smiles can cover them up.

In my plea to avoid commitment I tend to avoid all the perks that come with it. Including the satisfaction of at least trying or the fruitful outcome or other open doors.

But I’m learning not to limit myself. I’m learning to let go. Learning to sew myself and create a quilt of soft memories. I’m learning to lean on commitment. To understand that bad things happen not because I’m bad, but because this is life and I am a human and humans tend to break, just as they tend to reform.

It’s hard though.

You’ll have to scratch yourself raw.

Crack yourself open, and you will cry.

You will bleed.

Ache.

But that’s how you’ll heal.

Patch up those holes, stitch your wounds, and mend your soul. You might do it wrong. You might miss a few steps. You might hurt yourself even more. But that’s how you learn. That’s how you grow. That’s how you rise.

So darling, stop over thinking.  Stop giving into “ifs” and “maybes”. Stop ruining your happiness because you’ve let your fears grow inside of you. Stop comparing yourself to other people: you have a light in you that people ache to touch. Stop listening to other voices because that voice in you has a melody no one can achieve.

Breathe. And live.

Random facts about me…

I was born in Pakistan, and I came to the US when I was 4 years old. It’s been a back and forth journey ever since.

The fastest I’ve solved a Rubix cube is thirty seconds.

I’m learning how to play the guitar (and so far, I’ve mastered twinkle-twinkle little star).

I’m learning how to be ambidextrous. Yes, I can write with both hands… well kinda.

I usually don’t order food, because I like eating what other people order.

I have a bad habit of half-ing food. Meaning if I buy something I’ll only eat half, no matter how hungry I am.

I have claustrophobia and agoraphobia.

I dislike wearing makeup. I feel like I’m wearing a mask and hiding myself.

I hate wearing shoes. I like walking barefoot because I feel like I’m closer to Mother Earth.

I can daydream for hours and hours, and I would never get bored- that’s why I’m messed up in the head.

I love lying down on the grass and gazing up at the sky.

I love flowers, but I hate plucking them because I feel like they look beautiful when rooted to the ground.

I love the rain, even if it’s cold. I love the way the drops touch my skin and bounce off. (That’s why I never carry an umbrella and end up getting sick).

I’m scared of animals (and occasionally humans).

I love reading and writing. My phone is filled with unfinished novels, poems, and stories that I won’t ever publish.

I’m very passive aggressive. I could be dying, and I still won’t tell you why I’m mad.

I bite my lips and the insides of my cheeks when I’m nervous. If I’m scared, I’ll practically chew off my lips.

The thing I look in someone when I meet them for the first time is the way they smile.

I get cranky and mad if I don’t sleep well.

English is my least favorite subject. History and math are my most favorite subjects. I get excited when I have to solve algebraic equations.

I dislike seafood: I hate anything that’s not fish, including shrimp and crabs.

I love walking. I could walk all the way to California from NYC.

I’m not a morning person, nor am I a night person. I’m more of an evening person.

I like peeling lemons and eating them like oranges.

I love talking to myself. The voices in my head are more appealing than most people I know.

I don’t have a favorite color.

I’m a very sporty person. I love playing cricket, volleyball, badminton and now tennis.

I wear glasses, but you’ll barely see me wearing them.

I’m very sensitive to smell.

When I was young I had so many imaginary friends (I use them as my characters now).

mee

Here’s a random picture of me when I was young…

Feeling empty…

It’s just one of those days where you feel empty, almost hollow. Like a part of you is missing or is yanked out by the events taking place around you. You’re trying to make sense of everything, but you can’t seem to do that because everything is just mashed together in one big pile. If you try to sort things out that pile will crush you beneath its weight.

In between this mess you’ll only suffocate. So, you leave things as they are in hopes that miraculously things will get better. But they never ever do. And that pile, of all those things you’re trying to ignore, just expands like gas molecules and you’re left wondering where you went wrong. You find so many ‘loopholes’ ‘ifs’ and ‘maybes’ that your mind starts swirling and the road ahead starts to fade away, and you lose focus. You see nothing but emptiness in a future that was supposed to be as bright as the sun. You see a dead end in a road you fought so hard to take.

I hate having these moments because I always end up confusing myself even more, and I make irrational decisions just to get out of this phase. It temporarily works but I end up drowning myself even more.

I was so lost in my thoughts that today I waited twenty minutes for an elevator before realizing I hadn’t even pressed the buttons. I was so dozed out that I took the wrong train. I crossed a red light and took the wrong exit. Literally.

The feeling drains all the energy out of you. It makes you feel like a useless dried out battery.

Picture from Pexel

Faith in Humanity

Around a month ago there was a shooting in a Mosque in New Zealand, and today there was a bombing in a church, on Easter, in Sri Lanka.

I try not to look at the news it gets me overwhelmed. I don’t want to know how many people died or how many are injured. It makes me lose my faith in Humanity, and it makes me feel like a shitty person. Here I am living a comfortable life while there are people out there who are fighting just to survive. My heart goes out to all the people in Sri Lanka who’ve lost their lives or who’ve lost someone they love. This isn’t fair for them. Something like this shouldn’t have happened. Not today. Not any other day. Not to them. Not to anyone.

But it doesn’t make sense. Why would someone do such a thing? Is it the feeling of superiority? Is it mental illness? Is this a political game? Or is it someone’s desire just to see the world burn. Either way, no matter what the reason is, innocent people have lost their lives.

I still want to have faith. People still care. We’ll do whatever it takes to create a world where no one dies because of someone else’s hate or jealousy. Where we’re all accepting of one another. Where we don’t blame religion, ethnicity or color for someone’s actions, but their motives. Where the least we could do is believe that even with these stormy clouds lingering above our heads there is still hope for that ray of sunshine.

Photo by Min An from Pexels