Thank You.

I'm nothing. With You.

And as long as You reside within me, I won't lose.

Confident. Consistent. Moula tera karam rahey.

Monica My Darling!

You offensive woman! Red, blue, green... you had all the options in the world... but you settled for black; Trust, love, relationships... and what! You went for sex? Fortune favors the brave but the brave ones favor you. They favor you.. like you; they love you. Love not lust remember, as good guys have penned 'sex' as 'love making' in those good books they keep under their beds. And oh, its like an 'operational manual' of their tiny love making factories, where both the product and the producer needs to be cost effective and energy efficient with on-time consistent performance. No half measures, the passion for work is crucial here.

Anyway its not about them; its about you. And its about your lovely lonnnnggg legs. And yeah, its about your amazingggg curv... Ahem. See, I favor you.. the fortune will have to favor me some day.

This world's an strange place Monica. Makes one feel weird. And I believe you are someone un-fittingly hot in this rather frozen vicinity... over crowded with crumbly creatures on university benches, touchy minnows in papa's luxury chariots and psychotic feminists with bomb like butts and over-sized bust. The originality of your senses may not be greeted with consensus of the average minds, but that hardly matters. You have always been yourself.. so be that way. Coming out of your room in pyjamas to greet chubby relatives on Eid... or scaring off aunty Shakeela's 'educated' son with your untamed mannerism in Razia aapa's valima... or hey do you remember our last Mexican eat out when you winked at that bald uncle constantly staring at you since we entered that restaurant? Haha.. how embarrassed he got remember.

Oh, it has always been you and I know, if we meet after 25 years from today, I would find you the same. Its easy not some rocket science to understand yeah. And its easier on your side... because you actually don't have slightest of an idea of how to be someone else. You are not a 'property' of anyone.. Not even your parents. My sympathies with your to-be 'patti parmeshwar' but what can we do. You're like a bird you choose your own flight, not like those green 'round' tennis balls. Consistently hit by the game players; your parents and your husband, travelling zig-zag, up-down.. same monotonous movements over that flat court identified as your life. I believe the adventures of the so called 'blasphemous' flight is a lot more significant that the deafening applause of those irrelevant spectators; your family, relatives and friends... enjoying the tennis match out of your life.

I know you like black. I know you prefer sex. But there is one thing I am dying to tell you today...

Monica. You are my Darling.

Image: *m0thyyku

You're good you know!

Crop those colors off the sky; and paste them carefully around your eyes. Let the pain be; let the desires sink in... and lift you to something you always wanted to be. I don't care how good I am, and I don't know how good you can be. Its important today that we understand... that whatever we share between us would always have something magical about it.

Please bring me someone who is not influenced by his family, friends, media, career. A person who can talk, feel, think, believe, smile, listen, respect, act.. all at the same time. And its possible. The depth, firmness and attitude. Someone who likes Saigal and Pink Floyd, someone who has read Bano Qudsia to Sartre, someone who wants to be someone... someone not in everyone.

The Conventional Story of Newness

We know 'Human Resource' but we don't know how use it, where to use it. We should try... to celebrate true human potential. As true men were never hired, never 'trained' to achieve something extraordinarily great. Space should be given; let people do best work of their lives. True excellence unquestionably lies in the ability to entertain conflicting, often improbable combinations of thoughts, words and feelings. Conventional wisdom shall always be challenged, as it is nothing but an appalling attempt to dent evolutionary growth of truest and most authentic human potential. Paradoxes shall always be treated with respect. They should always be cultivated in an organization, a family or between two people. Its important to ask questions, and to find answers to them. But not more than rejoicing your true identity. Your ability to connect to your own self while dealing, playing, fooling around some of the most bizarre combinations of people, places and knowledge.

I try not to be arrogant or proud. But I take pride in what I do. I am nothing but a combination of every single thing that doesn't involve me. Connected but aloof. Mysterious but in an idiotic manner.

Here. Alive. Thank God.

And peace be with those departed...

Love for Life

There is always an attitude, a quiet confidence when you really love something/someone. Being consistent is all about being confident; Being confident is essentially an output of love. Not necessarily about 'floating in the air' but something more earthy. A self sustaining belief, a gracious look in those eyes; Just to make you feel warm... Just to let you know that no matter, I will never give up. I will never crumble, never quit .. never say that I don't want it anymore.

Its learning for a lifetime you know. Love beyond the scope of 'attainment' has always challenged history, and often, changed it as well. The tremendous capacity of Muhammad (P.B.U.H) to love, the undying and non-negotiable intensity of Hussain (A.S)... Why do they mourn? Don't they already know that an Imam's Noor is beyond his body..

I find an amazing attitude in what Hussain (A.S) and 72 of his devoted fellowmen did. Something that so convincingly explains the quiet confidence I was talking about earlier.

This is what we miss so much in our lives. Our religion, our societal norms, our relationships, our expressions, our education and health care systems, our perspective of life, individual and collective... is so deprived of love. Do I need to ask why there's so much turbulence, confusion and ridiculous inconsistency around us these days?

Questions are good, but questions do leave marks. Marks when answered and scars... unanswered..

Someone said someday

"There is something very different about him. Something... (silence) ... very genuine."

Connecting Dots - II

There are nights when I walk alone. Walk on the streets I call home. Streets of blood, pain and relentless agony. Streets completely clattered, crowded and heart broken. But then I can't deny, have to agree that peace originates off these same pathways. These are ragged but not cold. Agony but all mine. Rubbish but not more than me, foolish but not greater than my heart. An eccentric quietness that surrounds this place... complete silence. An absolute numbness. And then I start assuming that I am sweeping the same streets which I should have owned. Feeling completely wasted. Feeling under-loved. Oh God. Time and time again love makes me uncomfortable. I have so much love for you, can't you even see?

I just need you tonight. To love. To live. To die.