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Tuesday, February 19, 2008


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wisdom word

Whosoever is awake (to the material world) is the more asleep (to the spiritual world); his wakefulness is worse than his sleep.
Malice originates in hell, and as your malice is a part of hell, it is the enemy of your religion which urges you toward heaven. Since in the grip of malice you are also a part of hell, take care! The part gravitates towards the whole.Mathnavi of Maulana Rumi ----------------------
Arab Poet:The Matter is not mineThe affair is not mineNor is fate mineNor do these events that occur, occur with my planningNay I have a Creator and a SustainerWho does what He wills with meFor He, even before He created and fashioned me, His knowledge encompassed me.
Arab Poet:The blade of grass that grows in the garden is not the same as the blade of grass that grows in the jungle.
People believe the radiation from mobile phones, blue tooth headsets and phone masts can cause cancer, know that the radiation of wealth can kill off the spirituality of the heart! Shaykh Riyadh ul Haq ----------------------
Poem by Abu Hanifa: Whoever strives for knowledge for the life to come obtains great gain in righteousness. But he is in utter loss who seeks [knowledge] to obtain an advantage over people!
Mufti Muhammad Shafi (Rahimahullâh) recited this couplet:O oppressor, there is still time for repentance, do not delay, the one who fell and got up has not fallen.
Poem by an unnamed author:An immoral man of learning is a great evil; Yet a greater evil is an ignoramus leading a godly life. Both are a great trial everywhere to whomever clings to his religion.Source: Sunnipath ----------------------
Sincerity is the most sublime & respectable thing in ones deeds.Hazrat Malik Dinar
I advise you to avoid loneliness, for loneliness is a familiarity with the devil, take up good society, for therein lie the favour & blessings of Allah.Hazrat Abul Hasan Nuri


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electionz

after a 30 min debate with elder bro i came to a compromise dat i m going to polling station. i never wantd to go bt i lost the word game against my bro, i went just to taste the casting of vote.
the place was 180 degree opposite as i thought about it, i assumed dat it will b crowdy place bt it showed up as very less people are interested in polls.
sahiwal is a place where nawaz league has roots, and dat was exactly the same with results, it finally won againts Qaatil League and BB Party.
the polling station crew was seemed to be very pampered this time, they were extremely polite, the police officials seemed to be vigilant, the party workers seemed damn energetic, my family never remained interestd in politics so me inherited the same ideas to stray away frm politics.
all the channels now are focusing on the new coalition which is going to take place soon among major winning parties, lets see whats written in the destiny of Pakistani Nation.
Hope for the best, my mission will never change;

Mess with best,
Die like the rest.

Sunday, February 17, 2008


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changing life

with the same nites dark , lonely , calm , quiet , fearless , bold i always feel how days n days pass i never realized how i felt teenage behind, i never even thought of being a good guy at this age, just fedup of all the bad things dat go round in a bad boy's life. in childhood i dreamt dat i ll becum a scholar of religion, it seems as if my passion of cairo university is not going to materialize ever, but i ll always think to accomplish dat , to be pious person who leeds others n clears da vision of religion among others mind is da best job in the world,
i m 21 , if i dont change nw it will too late then, i heard from elders that at the age of 25 your habits becum urlystyle n if u plan to change them its simply not done.
confusion, confusion, confusion, y i always remain upset of tiny things, is this because i take alot of responsibilities, my aim to assist everyfrnd i know sumtimes make my lyf damn bad, but at the end of day i feel i hav done sumthig productive in helping frndz at their assignments, projects, presentationz.
time management is what lack in my life, my roommate gets up aa soon as he heards azaan, takes his shaawl n goes for mosque, me on the other hand try not to leave the dreamy world, and when i review my day i see dat my roommate was cheerful,blushing and active throughout the day but me totally opposite sad, tired, lazy n not attentive wd frndz while chatting.
if so much of my life has passed n v less is left then when i will get tym to change, my frnd SUFIAN HAMEED from england told me once that if u want to bring a change in your life then bring a "sudden change" and then stick to it, first it will suck but slowly n slowly ur own life will b running smoothly, i wish i act on his advice.
the 4 year plan which i made before cuming ntu i havent even startd yet, diss made me damn upset today , it seems i cant achieve even half of that bcz there is not much in faisalabad .. bt still things hav to be done, there should b no compromise on objectives.
the history of SUB-WAY sandwich chains encouraged me to work in their style as well... bt their history is full consistency, n dat where i fail'
planning planning n planning dats all wat i hav done yet, bt when its tym for executing them i merely complete half of them, i still remember the days when i was in youger classes my dad sit behind with me late nights till i complete my exam preparation, now y shuldnt i make dat routine again imagine ubaid ur dad is still with you sitting n want to see u sleep not before u complete your task....buddy just think abt it....
i forgot the stanze i learnt in childhood,it was sumwhat like dis :

LIVES OF GREAT MEN ALL REMIND US
WE CAN MAKE OUR LIVES SUBLIME
AND, DEPARTING, LEAVE BEHIND US,
FOOTPRINTS ON THE SAND OF TIME

this one is motivating

BRAVEMEN WHO WORK WHILE OTHERS SLEEP
THEY BUILD NATION'S PILLARS DEEP.....

Tuesday, February 05, 2008


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orkut vs facebook

few ov ma frndz hav gone to facebook, i feel dat opting shifting to facebook gonna b a kool idea,
lets hook up wd frndz over facebook...heh
i miss my library timings , so my meetingz wd class theetas is getting lesser,
my neighbour in hostel just informd me dat last nite at ntu library they missed me in discussion forum.
i hav to revise my daily routines......lemme think abt it seriously!!!


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Family problems(life as a runaway)

its nt my story dear readers!!

I hate the fact about what my father has done to my mother so that my mother threw her emotion away by slapping my head with her hand or with another hard stuff every time I got bad marks at school and every time I didn't listen to what she said. I was a scared girl and I've seen that my father was about to kill her twice, first time he was about to shot her head with a gun he had when he was shooting the birds at our backyard and the second time he was about to kill her with a big kitchen knife.
One day when my mom just came from hospital due to her sickness, when she just came back home my younger sister asked her for food. But because my mom was still tired and needed to take a rest, she decided to call a restaurant and buy the food she wanted. When the food is delivered my mom went to the front door but when she was in our car garage my father noticed that she didn't cook but bought a food outside. He became mad and he spit in her face.
One night when my father decided to sleep in my bedroom due to the fight, I, who was sleeping, heard that my mom came into my bedroom to talk with my dad, but then my dad became mad and he pulled my mom's hair so hard and took her away from my bedroom with her hair in both of his hands. He thought I was sleeping, but I saw what he did. I saw all those happenings with my own eyes and every time I saw it I cried, but I cried in a hidden place so that they shouldn't know I was crying. So did my younger sister, too.
Years passed, my parents are finally divorced, I was very sad to face it but on the other side I also thought that it's the better way for them to be separated. One day when I and my sister were in our bedroom, my dad came to us, hugged us, told us about a story and cried. But I felt he was not really crying, I felt that it was fake so I said,"just go away! We don't need you and stop crying because I know it is fake!" He left the room and moved to another house with nothing in his hands.
Since then, my mother worked harder to buy the things we needed in life, in short she also became father, as the head of the family. The bad happenings that my dad has done to my mother still involved her badly that she used her hands or another hard stuffs to punish us, especially me, the oldest daughter. It went on till I was 16 years old, I hated it, I hated it so much.
One night when I just fought with my mom I went to my bedroom and I was thinking like,"now it's my turn to teach my mom how to handle her daughter better than this! Perhaps if I go away from home she will change her mind and admit her faults because I know she never admits the bad things she has done, even when the preacher advised her she didn't listen so I have no choice than running away only to make her open her eyes. She better talk with me in a normal way other than slapping, kicking and banging my head to the wall!"
So, on the next day it was time for us to go to the school, my mom used to bring us to our school by her car. I put few clothes into my schoolbag, wore my school uniform and pretended as if I was going to school. Everything was then ready, I came downstairs and I saw my sister there, she was still crying about what has happened in the night before. I whispered in her ear,"if you don't see me after school time, please don't be shocked because I won't be here anymore and please stop crying, I love you."
So, when all of us were already in a car, underway to our school, my mother seemed so curious about what I had inside of my bag because it looked so lighter than usual. She asked,"what do you have inside your bag?" attempted to touch my schoolbag but I avoided it and said,"do you want to create another problem or what? Why do you believe another people more than you believe your own child?" I was still mad at that time and luckily, she didn't check my bag. We finally arrived at school, I walked into my school and went again when I noticed that my mom already went away from the parking place.
And so, since then I didn't come back to my home, I was with other friends who also escaped from their houses due to the family problems. We moved from one to another places and I became a little bit paranoid every time I saw a car that looked like my mother's car because we lived in a small town and everyone could explore the town within one hour so it was actually easy to find me if I didn't watch out. We also travelled to another city as my mom already knew the places where I should be. Of course I needed money, but my dad who lived in another place always sent money to my bank account every month so that I shouldn't be poor during my escape. He knew I ran away from home but he's also worried that something should happen to me so that's why he always sent money.


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Girl's Dirty Politics

"gossiping" is the best hobby every girl wants to do. I have learnt from my elders that politics is a dirty business. The present scenario has made it clearer still; but to say for the same for girls' politics wouldnot be altogether right because these few girls play this game so smartly that their angels would never doubt their innocence. They had laughed with u cracked jokes smiles giggles but the moment they fear your strength they had start setting traps on you. And worst part is that you will never find a clue as to how and when it all went wrong. Even months later, you might find them smiling and gigglingwith u but nahhhh... they r not ur frndz. they arnt enjoying ur company. they r just making sure dat the job is done well. u see, thez girls want to appear innocent angels but surely they r not, just thgeir traps.

I have cum to realize that thez innocous pricks ultimately becum habits. and the story duznt end here. these habits turn into inter-family practices and then into a cultural mind set. this ultimately shapes up a society's gross atitude.

imagine girls! turning into women it means whole spectrum of women and when i speak of women from SAAS to BAHOO from NANDH to DEVRANI from principal to head clerk from consultant to trainee relationships come to a halt and ppl loose their peace of mind.

Saturday, February 02, 2008


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puzzled thoughts by sum1 for sum1

woke up...thought of writing to you...
then eschewd all thoughts....
welll tried calling you but then hung up.....
dont know whats going on with me.....
or withyouor with both of us.....
heart says...she must be busy...nights..work commitment....
mind says.....probably she has realized what iam not willing to realize.....
sit down again in my own pain and agony....
wanna hear you...wanna talk to you...
its been days.....
feeling so lonely....
so down with out you...

Friday, February 01, 2008


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Point of no return (revised)

An old man, probably some ninety plus years, sat feebly on the park bench. He didn't move, just sat with his head down staring at his hands. When I sat down beside him he didn't acknowledge my presence and the longer I sat I wondered if he was ok.

Finally, not really wanting to disturb him but wanting to check on him at the same time, I asked him if he was ok. He raised his head and looked at me and smiled. Yes, I'm fine, thank you for asking, he said in a clear strong voice. I didn't mean to disturb you .....but you were just sitting here staring at your hands and I wanted to make sure you were ok I explained to him. Have you ever looked at your hands he asked. I mean really looked at your hands? I slowly opened my hands and stared down at them. I turned them over, palms up and then palms down. No, I guess I had never really looked at my hands as I tried to figure out the point he was making.

Then he smiled and related this story: Stop and think for a moment about the hands you have, how they have served you well throughout your years. These hands, though wrinkled, shriveled and weak have been the tools I have used all my life to reach out and grab and embrace life. They braced and caught my fall when as a toddler I crashed upon the floor. They put food in my mouth and clothes on my back. As a child my mother taught me to hold them in prayer. They tied my shoes and pulled on my boots. They dried the tears of my children and caressed the love of my life. They have been dirty, scraped and raw, swollen and bent. They were uneasy and clumsy when I tried to hold my newborn son. They wrote the letters home and trembled and shook when I buried my parents and spouse. Yet, they were strong and sure when I dug my friend out of a foxhole and lifted a plow off of my best friends foot. They have held children, consoled neighbors, and shook in fists of anger when I didn't understand. They have covered my face, combed my hair, and washed and cleansed the rest of my body. They have been sticky and wet, bent and broken, dried and raw. And to this day when not much of anything else of me works real well these hands hold me up, lay me down, and again continue to open in prayer. These hands are the mark of where I've been and the ruggedness of my life.
The oldman obliged me to thought about my own hands as well but more importantly i realised that this old man is at a stage which we may call a point from where he cannot return back to his younghood.