Of lost stars...

The night was cold and the breeze was chilly, yet the sky was clear. The absent moon allowed the stars their moment of glory and they filled the sky with brilliance. Sitting outside their campsite the elder looked towards the young boy who was gazing at the stars as if he was trying to find something hidden among them. After a brief cough the elder spoke addressing the young one, "do you know many of the stars you see in the sky right now have been dead for millions of years". Amazed and bewildered the young boy shifted his gaze from the stars to the elder and asked how is that possible? How can we see something that has ceased to exist?
 The old man took a sip of tea and replied, "look son these stars were shining in a corner of the universe millions of years ago and their light has just reached us, travelling across vast expanses of space, a journey of millions of years to add another shining dot to the dark sky". The boy wanted to know more and was carefully listening so the old man continued, " They may have died, yet the light they gave to the universe makes this dark night shine, we may never know when they ceased to exist but today in this moment their light shines. Every night when you look up at the sky, take a moment to think and realize that those numerous stars, many of them dead for millions of years, still catch your attention and are a cause for your interest in the sky".
 "My son! like these stars become a person who even when gone would continue to shine, their light illuminating lives. Become the person whose message and deeds would transcend time and continue to shine long after he is no more. Become the shining star that would hold the gaze of people without them realizing when you ceased to exist. Become the person who would illuminate dark nights with his contribution, and remember when we have many such persons, even the darkest of nights would be illuminated. People are mortal, granted a finite existence but our actions and the lived we touch can be infinite and immortal. And my son when i am long gone, i hope i am like this shining star that would keep shining in your dark nights, always assuring you of my presence with my flickering light from far far away".

We all want slaves...

I blame no one for all self proclaimed leader are better than this man who lost his home. All the righteous men who claim this is some curse unleashed from the heaven in return for our wrongdoings, please tell me why does it only sweep away the poor who already have nothing, if this is a curse then why those who stand tall after every crime are spared?Those who live in castles and are afraid of fingers being pointed at them, fear the day when this cry on anguish will become a cry of anger, when the people will have no homes and nothing to eat, they will drag you out of your homes and will dine on your flesh and bones! Fear the day, fear the cries emerging from so many souls, they will haunt you like ghosts...

NO doubt you will say we will not leave u alone, we will feed you people but what you want is for them to be eternal beggars always at your mercy, never having a right to chose. You will have someone to serve with your charity, someone to look down upon and help with your wealth. What you do not want is free individuals, living on their free will, independent and prosperous. In time of peace or times of calamity you need slaves, you need worn down human beings who can receive your alms and thank you in return. People who will helpless gazes will forever look towards you for their tiniest needs and you while granting them what was truly theirs, will stand tall and look great.

This has to stop, this cannot be allowed to continue. It is brazen injustice to the people and we are all responsible for it. We all need weak and needy people to show how giving and kind we are, we all fear independent people because they make us insecure. We allow this injustice to continue by not forming a society where rights of all are safeguarded and a true welfare system exists!

Journeys & Destinations

You think life is a succession of destinations that you reach but all that is to life is the succession of journeys. Once you reach a destination its done, achieved, conquered and you look to the next one but what got you here and what will get you there is the journey. You are shaped n ground to shine not by your destinations but the journeys you take to get there...

Society

Society and its bigotry is becoming too heavy a burden, the only solace is in wilderness. The jungle with trees and ravines may seem dangerous but this jungle of concrete is a bigger killer, some are killed for what they are and some for what they will not become. There are roads, streets and signs yet life is lost. There are only virtues and honors to be used to kill. Humility, tolerance and acceptance have been declared grave sins. Life is slowly dying and death tightening its grip everywhere...

Sunset

What if we could harvest the sunset? could we just pick out all the happiness that was in that day, and discard the moments of sorrow?
What if we could harvest the sunset? could we just gather those moments of happiness and use them on days of famine when no matter what we do, happiness seems far far away...
What if we could harvest the sunset? what if...

But then, end of every day teaches us to live in that moment, achieve what is possible now, leave the worries of what could be to the future and the sorrows of what could have been to the past

A short history of pain & kindness

Streets of a city are like veins in the body, life flow through them, and if you roam through them long enough like the veins in the body they may ultimately take you straight to the heart. Even if you cannot get there there is every possibility that the flow of life will touch you and get you back in touch with the flow of life inside yourself. And so i moved in the streets of old Lahore like a stray soul, eras after era these have been the true carriers of life, stories unfolded every moment here. Even after the beatings of time and modernity, life lives on here in its own unique pace and color. On a misty,wet and cold December morning, while roaming about i saw a malang, sitting in a corner, dressed in rags, a solitary cup of tea placed closed to him but around him sitting so peacefully, heads bowed down in obedience were dogs. Stray dogs were gathered around him but not like courtiers around a king, this was something else, something more, a link that transcended the boundaries we build and adhere to in our lives. You rarely see such a sight and in that moment i was engulfed by the thought that i have to know his story, as if this was the highway when traversed would lead straight to the heart of not only this city but to that lost feeling of life flowing inside.
 But i was afraid of the dogs that surrounded him like watchful companions, Finally curiosity got the better of fear and i decided to move forward but i held a stick in my hand to thwart any attack from those dogs. As i stepped closer their gazes turned towards me and they started to make noises as if to warn me, suddenly the malang opened his eyes and turned to look at me. His eyes had a quizzical look, as if asking me what did i want and why was i intruding in his small peaceful world. To gain his confidence i threw the stick away and tried to ask him in gestures if i could come closer, he nodded in approval and said something to the dogs which made them settle down. I cautiously moved closer and before i could utter a word, he asked me what did i want with him? I told him i wanted to know about this bond he had with these animals. Go away, you will never understand said the malang and closed his eyes again, i persisted with the question and somehow this persistence paid off and he agreed to tell me his story but only if i stopped looking at the dogs with fear. Reassuringly he said to me," they will not hurt you, they have tasted enough hatred for being what they are".
 When i relaxed he began his story, he was neither a mad man nor a drug addict. He was just an outcast, deserted and left alone because he was the product of a relation no one wanted to own. Raised in an orphanage he met with beatings and rants about his birth, till one day he could not take it any more and ran away. He thought the world outside would be easier to survive in if not kinder. But those notions soon disappeared, survival and its necessities took over. The beatings continued, people tried to take advantage and life became a constant grind for him. Jobless, hungry and hopeless he stole some bread and was caught. They beat him up so bad that he fell unconscious, thrown away on a pile of junk and left to die. When he woke up, hunger and pain had only become worse, he could smell rotten food, in the condition he was that would do just fine. So he scavenged through the garbage to collect what he could find, and that is when he saw dogs searching for food in the same pile of junk. They did not bark at him or attack him, rather they were happy to share their food. He could see marks on their bodies which much like his own, seemed to be results of continuous beatings. Day after day the trend continued, his shabby appearance yielded him disgust and detachment from most, a harsh word or slap from many and sometimes very rarely a kind word or gesture from some. Day after day he noticed the same treatment faced by those stray dogs, he could feel their pain, he could understand what showed in their eyes. In the passage of these days he decided that these were the only companions he had and in many ways the only ones he could trust and relate to. Slowly he started to scavenge for food along with these dogs and shared whatever he could find with them. He caressed them, cleaned their wounds played with them and though they could not understand but he talked to them and they quietly listened. Then one day while roaming in the streets with his companions, someone attacked him, before he could react the dogs sprung into action and the attacker had to beat a retreat. They had accepted him as one of their own and he thought of them as the only friends he had.
  I was mesmerized and shocked to hear his story, he closed his eyes once again. He was at peace and was a symbol of pure calm. Even when he was telling his story, i could see no anger or resentment in his eyes and expressions. I thought to myself that we who call ourselves humans, cast this malang away because of no fault of his own and those animals, stray dogs accepted him, shared whatever they had. This bond of kindness transcended species and language. I felt ashamed, have become so incapable of kindness and good while all other species still adhere to this norm in their own way.
  While i was thinking this, he opened his eyes and said, what more do you want, go away and tell these humans if they have to learn, there are traits that even these stray dogs can teach. But before i left i turned around and asked him one last question, "Have you ever thought about revenge?" He smiled and said, "Sometimes one hurts so much for so long that even pain bids farewell, and what remains is numbness, freezing cold, sharp as a dagger,cutting through the very fabric of ones soul. We become indifferent, we seek not revenge but peace and solitude. There is no more hate, no more pain."
  He walked away with his pack of dogs but i was left speechless and in a trance by his words. I have gone there many times after that but he is not there anymore, neither are the dogs. May be they moved, because in me they saw an intruder in their solitude and peace, or may be that moved because they had to spread their message elsewhere.

Lessons from History...

In the words of Mark Twain, “History doesn't repeat itself, but it does rhyme.” 
Not so long ago a killer horde threatened the centers of learning and knowledge, they built minarets with the skulls of their "enemies". No man, woman or child was spared, while they marched on scholars and leaders in Baghdad procrastinated and allowed them to march on. In 1241 the rulers of Baghdad decided to come to terms with the Mongols and pay an annual tribute to the Mongol court. Yet in 1258 the Mongols attacked, ransacked and burnt Baghdad, the cause of defeat was not that the Mongols were irresistible, it was the inaction and indecision!
Today it seems so relative yet again, our culture, lives and livelihood are at stake and we as a nation and our leaders have no clear plan of action. This procrastination will lead us nowhere but to another fall and its time to think where your and mine head will be placed in that minaret. The hordes are advancing, blood thirsty and power hungry and all we exhibit is the silence of the lambs. So slaughter is the destiny!

Doors...

Some doors are closed upon us and some we intentionally lock. In both cases there are avenues unexplored and untouched. But isn't that what we go through in life everyday, experiencing what is and contemplating what could have been. Hope and hopelessness are both shades of the same color, in the right amount both possess the power to create or utterly decimate!