محبت کے بغیر زندگی بےمعنی ہے مگر جو محبت کا مطلب نہ سمجھے اس کو عزت نہ دے، محبت بھي موقع پاتے ہی اسے دھوکا دے دیتی ہے. لوگوں سے وفا اپنی جگہ، احساسات سے بےوفائی زندگی کے رنگ چھین لینے کی طاقت رکھتی ہے۔
Some topics are such that man has been writing about them since eons and well will continue to discuss it until it gets wiped out, and one of them is life. So important, yet so trivial.
While the Power Brokers, the masters of the World decide who to keep and who to dispense with, whether by malnutrition or by a drone, I sit on the fence and think, why have i not been targeted as yet? I do not have the courage to fight against the mighty, neither the strength to be with the oppressed maybe that is the reason that my path is on the fence, but for how long?
Had to record an experience. I have a daughter 2 and a half, and alhumdulillah very adorable and extremely friendly. A couple of days back I decided to use the bus, it was overall a good experience but I got a little concerned about how ppl interact with little ones.
I am all for smiles and talking, and when we eat out the staff sometimes picks her up but at the same time they interact with us too, but in this case I was waiting for the bus at the bus stop and a guy came and sat besides us, he never intracted with me but started playing with my daughter and to get her attention he would touch her hand instead of calling out to her. I had no clue what to do, it would have been rude to ask him not to play or touch and he seemed like a decent guy, may be a tourist. It wasn’t him in particular I was concerned about but the after effects, we know we r not perverts but toddlers don’t, for her if I allow one stranger to touch her that means strangers are perfectly safe, she is too little to be told how to interact with different types of people.
My request is, please interact with parents if u really want to hug the little ones or just keep your interaction with toddlers restricted to smiles, and please share the request with your family, men and women both.
In Roman Urdu
Aik chingari poorey bagh ko jala ke raakh ker deti hai. Humara tou gulistan pehley hi murjhaya hua tha ke kuch phool jou baqi thay wou bhi nazreaatish hou gaye. Kash ke aag, aur aag se bujh jaya kerti, lekin aisa houta nahi.
aag kahan ye dekhti hai ke wouu jo jala rahi hai wou phool hein ya kaantay, phal hai ya lakri, wou tou buss jalaana janti hai, uss ka koi thikana nahi jahan wapis chali jaye, hawa aur pani ki tarhan. Wou tou wahin rehti hai jahan jalai jai aur barhti hai uss waqt tuk jub tuk ussay kuch jalanay kou milay, jub sub jala ke rakh ker deti hai tub khud bhi dhuuan hou jati hai.
Aur ye nafrat ki aag hum sub mein jal rahi hai, buss rung mukhtalif hein.
Kabhi lagta hai ke jesey humein koi buddua lag gayi hou, shaid maghfirat mangnay se aag bujh jaye.
Dua hai ke hir bachay ke sir pe uss ke baap ka sayya barqaraar rahay aur her maan ki goud bhari rahay.
I have always wanted to write, my thoughts, emotions, feelings, my own reasoning about everything that exists, but lately it seems that is something everyone wants to do and I am not an original thinker. So that thought always kind of pulls me out of the thinking to write mode and I get busy with my hosehold chores, my daughter or just plain old candy crush.
One day I will.