Tough,
you think you've got the stuff
You're telling me and anyone You're hard enough
You don't have to put up a fight
You don't have to always be right
Let me take some of the punches For you tonight
Listen to me now
I need to let you know
You don't have to go it alone
And it's you when I look in the mirror
And it's you when I don't pick up the phone
Sometimes you can't make it on your own
We fight
all the time
You and I...that's alright
We're the same soul
I don't need...I don't need to hear you say
That if we weren't so alike You'd like me a whole lot more
Listen to me now
I need to let you know
You don't have to go it alone
And it's you when I look in the mirror
And it's you when I don't pick up the phone
Sometimes you can't make it on your own
I know that we don't talk
I'm sick of it all
Can - you - hear - me - when - I - Sing,
you're the reason I sing
You're the reason why the opera is in me...
Where are we now?
I've still got to let you know
A house still doesn't make a home
Don't leave me here alone...
And it's you when I look in the mirror
And it's you that makes it hard to let go
Sometimes you can't make it on your own
Sometimes you can't make it
The best you can do is to fake it
Sometimes you can't make it on your own
Monday, February 23, 2009
Sunday, February 22, 2009
i cant sleep
It’s two a clock at night and the people in my house are deep in slumber while the speaker in my room vibrates with the sound of dido……I cant sleep today or at least I don’t want to…I feel like writing and contemplating… haven’t done that in a while. The previous week was such a waste, didn’t accomplish anything. Feel wasted. I feel that way a lot these days. I need a challenge and a break from my work.
But tonight I think about you and us. The postcard that you gave me before leaving is standing upright in my cupboard. The rose that you brought me has withered; its colour lost and smell faded. Yet I can’t trash it. Maybe I don’t want to. It’s the first thing that I see when I open my cupboard. I don’t know where you are right now, I am not sure if you’ve left for university or you’re still at home. I don’t know what time it is there, I don’t know what you’re doing there. I don’t even know whether you’re thinking about me now. But iam...Tonight I paused while working to think about you. It’s funny how you leave me with such intense memories that I hold on to till I can see you again...uppa tells me not to think about the past too much, he says it’s a waste of time, concentrate on your future. But the past is all I have with you sometimes.
People think were not a real couple. That makes me laugh because I like what you told me once, let them say what they want to. They don’t know us, they don’t share our small secrets, our inside jokes and the huge efforts we make to please each other.. Were not like others and we’ll never really be..
Inshallah I really can’t wait for us to be together…I love that white shirt that you wore to my dadis….i thought you looked very sharp in it. I cannot believe that I actually woke you at four in the morning to complain about a crank caller and later we both started talking bec none of us felt like sleeping.. no one consoles and makes me laugh like you do, ok maybe my mother does…but besides her, theres no one like you harry..
The future excites and scares me harry, I know that it does the same to you.. I know that we have different plans, their so different that I don’t know when they will converge. I don’t know how long I’ll be working here and you studying there. I would do anything or give anything to go along with you. Share an apartment and start what we’ve been envisioning for so long..
But tonight I think about you and us. The postcard that you gave me before leaving is standing upright in my cupboard. The rose that you brought me has withered; its colour lost and smell faded. Yet I can’t trash it. Maybe I don’t want to. It’s the first thing that I see when I open my cupboard. I don’t know where you are right now, I am not sure if you’ve left for university or you’re still at home. I don’t know what time it is there, I don’t know what you’re doing there. I don’t even know whether you’re thinking about me now. But iam...Tonight I paused while working to think about you. It’s funny how you leave me with such intense memories that I hold on to till I can see you again...uppa tells me not to think about the past too much, he says it’s a waste of time, concentrate on your future. But the past is all I have with you sometimes.
People think were not a real couple. That makes me laugh because I like what you told me once, let them say what they want to. They don’t know us, they don’t share our small secrets, our inside jokes and the huge efforts we make to please each other.. Were not like others and we’ll never really be..
Inshallah I really can’t wait for us to be together…I love that white shirt that you wore to my dadis….i thought you looked very sharp in it. I cannot believe that I actually woke you at four in the morning to complain about a crank caller and later we both started talking bec none of us felt like sleeping.. no one consoles and makes me laugh like you do, ok maybe my mother does…but besides her, theres no one like you harry..
The future excites and scares me harry, I know that it does the same to you.. I know that we have different plans, their so different that I don’t know when they will converge. I don’t know how long I’ll be working here and you studying there. I would do anything or give anything to go along with you. Share an apartment and start what we’ve been envisioning for so long..
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
some insights....
the roads that would lead to the village........
the children that would not be deprived of education.....
the warmth and creativity that reflects in their homes.......
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
three cups of tea
its been a while since i have written.....i dont know why i wasnt writing, sometimes you just dont feel like doing something..and that sometimes trangressed for quite a while.i blame myself and the pressures of life and college work.it can be so hectic and time consuming.
somethings been on my mind lately. the book three cups of tea i suppose. its beautiful. the role played by greg mortenson is just remarkable. seeing people like him can be extremely inspiring and over whelming, would love to meet him one day though.
for my dissertation, i visited a small village near lahore last year_thatta ghulamka deroka. and this story is so similar to that of the korphe village. the village that i visited occupied a small land but the people possessed large hearts. they were open minded about tourists and very hospitable. a german woman had been introduced to the village and she brought many chnages there. she made a school, educated the women about health and other hygiene basics. the village acquired electricity and roads were constructed. i thought to myself, why do we always rely on foreginers to improve our conditions. its not like we dont possess the skills or funds for these impoverished places. what we really lack is a kind heart and an immortal spirit. we dont feel pain when we see the children without shoes or food. we dont cry at their disparity. but they do. they who belong to even better living conditions feel the emtions better than their own people ever can. and what is even more frightening is that one day we'll be accountable for this. allah is watching and his angels writing. in our own artifitial lives we forget that we must return to him one day. the quran today made me realise that this world is temporary and the next is more significant. that is something i shud be more concerned about rather than trivial issues that i cry about everyday..........
somethings been on my mind lately. the book three cups of tea i suppose. its beautiful. the role played by greg mortenson is just remarkable. seeing people like him can be extremely inspiring and over whelming, would love to meet him one day though.
for my dissertation, i visited a small village near lahore last year_thatta ghulamka deroka. and this story is so similar to that of the korphe village. the village that i visited occupied a small land but the people possessed large hearts. they were open minded about tourists and very hospitable. a german woman had been introduced to the village and she brought many chnages there. she made a school, educated the women about health and other hygiene basics. the village acquired electricity and roads were constructed. i thought to myself, why do we always rely on foreginers to improve our conditions. its not like we dont possess the skills or funds for these impoverished places. what we really lack is a kind heart and an immortal spirit. we dont feel pain when we see the children without shoes or food. we dont cry at their disparity. but they do. they who belong to even better living conditions feel the emtions better than their own people ever can. and what is even more frightening is that one day we'll be accountable for this. allah is watching and his angels writing. in our own artifitial lives we forget that we must return to him one day. the quran today made me realise that this world is temporary and the next is more significant. that is something i shud be more concerned about rather than trivial issues that i cry about everyday..........
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
RULES
Remember the five simple rules to be happy:
1. Free your heart from hatred - Forgive.
2. Free your mind from worries - Most never happens.
3. Live simply and appreciate what you have.
4. Give more.
5. Expect less from people but more from God.
Monday, December 1, 2008
THINK DIFFERENT
I write without inhibitions is what sticky sweet told me. But mostly I write for myself. Words that cluster in my mind and run on paper. They are in a rush to escape my mind. They want to be let free.
This semester my English teacher inspired me to write. As much as I am impressed by him, I also followed his advice. He told me you don’t have to be brilliant to write. You can improve once you start. And his weekly classes persuaded me to mark my thoughts. He made us read interesting pieces by authors. Poems that went beyond my understanding. He showed us videos that are still embedded in my head. Why do capable teachers leave and the unworthy stay.
I feel I learnt a lot this semester. My assignments just weren’t assignments. They were thought provoking and insightful. Being an art student I try to find meaning in my work. I argue with a lot of people about the varying degrees they attach to it. My aunt thinks that art is to be admired and appreciated. It is nothing but a pretty piece to be put in her drawing room. I tell her that art has served other purposes and history proves that. Dating back to the Altimira caves of Africa, art was a way of communication. The uncivilized made huge pictures of animals to overcome their fear of them. The Greeks and Romans made beautiful statues and buildings to mark their fortune. They made monuments to symbolize their power and supremacy. The mughals made miniatures to portray their lifestyle. Modern artists made paintings to display wars and political unrest. Some exhibited their strong emotions.
My brother constantly ridicules me that I will be unemployed once I graduate. I am aware that in today’s time, creative designing is something that only the rich can afford. The affluent have the money to buy designer products.
I agree with this to a certain extent but I want to play a constructive role in society. I don’t want to become just another designer or teach art somewhere. I want to make a difference for the people I work for. Two months back, we worked for an NGO. They employed women from rural areas who do embroidery. We had to design products for them that would be sold easily in the market. This way the NGO would understand why their goods are not being sold. I loved that assignment. It taught me so much and for the first time in my art school I thought I was making a difference to someone.
Another class graduated this year. And out of twenty five there was just one who attained a distinction. I was trying to understand why out of so many only she was given the award. And after seeing her work, I was convinced. It was something I could not possibly imagine. Such people impress me who think out of the box. They use talent intelligently.
It is Allah who gives such talents and abilities. In the end, it is him who we must thank for giving us a chance to make our mark.
This semester my English teacher inspired me to write. As much as I am impressed by him, I also followed his advice. He told me you don’t have to be brilliant to write. You can improve once you start. And his weekly classes persuaded me to mark my thoughts. He made us read interesting pieces by authors. Poems that went beyond my understanding. He showed us videos that are still embedded in my head. Why do capable teachers leave and the unworthy stay.
I feel I learnt a lot this semester. My assignments just weren’t assignments. They were thought provoking and insightful. Being an art student I try to find meaning in my work. I argue with a lot of people about the varying degrees they attach to it. My aunt thinks that art is to be admired and appreciated. It is nothing but a pretty piece to be put in her drawing room. I tell her that art has served other purposes and history proves that. Dating back to the Altimira caves of Africa, art was a way of communication. The uncivilized made huge pictures of animals to overcome their fear of them. The Greeks and Romans made beautiful statues and buildings to mark their fortune. They made monuments to symbolize their power and supremacy. The mughals made miniatures to portray their lifestyle. Modern artists made paintings to display wars and political unrest. Some exhibited their strong emotions.
My brother constantly ridicules me that I will be unemployed once I graduate. I am aware that in today’s time, creative designing is something that only the rich can afford. The affluent have the money to buy designer products.
I agree with this to a certain extent but I want to play a constructive role in society. I don’t want to become just another designer or teach art somewhere. I want to make a difference for the people I work for. Two months back, we worked for an NGO. They employed women from rural areas who do embroidery. We had to design products for them that would be sold easily in the market. This way the NGO would understand why their goods are not being sold. I loved that assignment. It taught me so much and for the first time in my art school I thought I was making a difference to someone.
Another class graduated this year. And out of twenty five there was just one who attained a distinction. I was trying to understand why out of so many only she was given the award. And after seeing her work, I was convinced. It was something I could not possibly imagine. Such people impress me who think out of the box. They use talent intelligently.
It is Allah who gives such talents and abilities. In the end, it is him who we must thank for giving us a chance to make our mark.
Monday, November 17, 2008
the addiction
a few of my favourite books, just a few, i wish i couldupload pics of all them.
since i became a member of shelfari, i got a chance to own a library comprising all the books that i have read. it gave me such pleasure. i was so happy and addicted to shelfari that i didnt want to get off that site. i could discuss books with other people and realised that many shared the same craving. there were so many books that i leanrt about. i just wish the latest books werent so expensive. liberty is the only source of buying such books but the cost sometimes makes me keep them back on the shelf. i always enter the shop with such excitement but hate leaving empty handed. anyway i discovered some alternatives. mr old books is a great place to buy cheap books from. sometimes the popular ones that are new are also available.pirated of course. but that doesnt bother me that much. books are meant for everyone, not to cater a certain class.
the books that i really want to read are
the white tiger by aravind adiga
unaccustomed earth by jhumpa lahiri
the colour purple
sense and sensibility
some good islamic books
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