tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-125280462012-02-17T10:38:09.281+11:00Like fingerprints, no two lives are the same. Mine is filled with mistakes, contemplation, amendments, and repetition of all three.Lnoreply@blogger.comBlogger2771100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-36660542312099124472012-02-17T00:15:00.001+11:002012-02-17T00:15:28.839+11:00

When I was little, I had mild (self-diagnosed) aquaphobia - I used to cry on boat rides, even in knee dip water. I remember constantly feeling like the boat would tip and I would drown. I'm not exactly sure when this left me, but, I remember enjoying boat rides at about 14 years of age. I would dip my toes in water and lie the deck, watching the sky as it passed me by. In terms of swimming -

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-8591223816124369582012-02-08T23:19:00.001+11:002012-02-12T07:36:22.894+11:00

One would think that a psychologist would be able to solve all of her own problems, since that's what she gets paid for. Perhaps that would be the case when I actually become one (inshaallah!) although I'm not doing so now. However, I am able to identify problems and find a cause for the problem, most of the time. I am hoping that someday I will be able to take the next step and actually solve

Lnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-79452496066380140852012-01-24T00:47:00.000+11:002012-01-24T00:47:40.286+11:00

For about the past month, my siblings and I have lived in our huge house all by ourselves. Our parents, for the first time in their entire twenty eight years of marriage, went on a holiday, (mostly) purely for the sake of a holiday. They had a great time in Malaysia. When they called and asked what they should get for each of us, I said they should get something to do with memories. So, for me,

Lnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-69704232310740624142012-01-13T13:43:00.000+11:002012-01-13T13:43:24.017+11:00

Funny thing about words are that they can change everything for one person, even if the same ones mean nothing to another. Just the other day, I felt that my perception of reality became a little skewed, yet, I couldn't come out of that state. I was not strong enough to handle my perceptions on my own. Then I talked to B, and he made me feel okay, and within about an hour that we had together on

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-49278775869688637032012-01-03T00:25:00.000+11:002012-01-03T00:25:10.797+11:00

A long time ago, I saved this photo from PostSecret. I found this again while sorting through my photos. I still think this is extremely cute. :)

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-58116386697704205222011-12-30T02:50:00.000+11:002011-12-30T02:50:33.994+11:00

My body clock has officially flipped. At 2 AM, I am feeling buzzed enough to get some paperwork done while sipping on some mild caffeine and listening to acapella multitracks of Lauren King. I wish there was some good humming multitracks on Youtube - they could have gathered a million views from my clicks alone. Hopefully it will flip back tomorrow (today), because I have a packed schedule that

Lnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-8654921703269974252011-12-27T02:27:00.000+11:002011-12-27T02:27:05.769+11:00

I just watched a really cute movie called 'Wake Up Sid'. Its about a spoilt, useless, yet talented, boy who grows up to be a man after he meets a girl. The story seems (and probably is) incredibly clichéd, but I am a sucker for romantic comedies most days, so predictably, it made me tear up like a teenage girl. The part that I loved the most was that they both helped each other grow a little bit,

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-77517509742155382272011-12-19T18:36:00.001+11:002011-12-22T12:51:50.339+11:00

I walked home in the pouring rain with my beloved red umbrella (yes, its been two years, but I still love it!) and all I could think of was - I wish I could capture these moments with all of my senses. Time seemed to slow beneath those white and yellow street lights that lit up under the overcast sky. Raindrops lit up one by one, glittered for a while, then fell upon the earth ever so softly.

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-43912156537381611072011-12-08T13:10:00.000+11:002011-12-08T13:10:22.708+11:00

Last weekend, I went to yet another Alkauthar course that changed me a little bit. It was taught by sheikh Yahya Ibrahim - one of the most amazing people I have ever come across. His ability to balance himself perfectly in every aspect, ability to prioritise things that matter, people that matter is truly admirable.  It is very easy to tilt that balance as one's roles expand in the external world

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-68452275071283272752011-12-06T11:08:00.000+11:002011-12-06T11:08:07.558+11:00

I am currently reading Struggling to Surrender by Jeffrey Lang, an associate professor in the Department of Mathematics and University of Kansas. It is a personal account about the journey and thoughts of a born and raised Catholic turned Atheist turned Muslim. The subtitle of the book is 'some impressions of an American convert to Islam' - even though I am not a 'convert' (nor am I American :P),

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-10366007577800388912011-11-26T15:53:00.000+11:002011-11-26T15:53:35.072+11:00

Most of the problems between people result from the fact that they are not willing to listen to and consider anyone else's points of views except for their own. Everyone thinks that their way is the best way to go about things (otherwise they wouldn't do so of course!), and most of the times, people dismiss any other ideas that come their way. Yes, we are moving towards a global society where

Lnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-12857416648062756962011-11-21T01:04:00.000+11:002011-11-21T01:04:00.108+11:00

The more people I meet, the more I learn to take a holistic point of view to life. When I first started becoming interested in Islam (although I was raised by religious parents, my religion didn't always interest me), I used to wonder why others don't see what I see. I used to think, if this is really the truth, why isn't it reaching all those people who definitely have intellect and goodness?

Lnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-25357135715968184372011-10-26T08:48:00.000+11:002011-10-26T08:48:14.370+11:00

"I wonder what I'd do if I could wake up every morning with a clean slate I'd burn through the cities and tear through the towns because there's no deals to make So break out of the cages, the delicate structures we cling to all our lives Because we are just the monkeys who fell out of the trees When we were trying to fly" There's a reason why the song keeps saying 'pretend' that you're alone

Lnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-61734111931363671882011-10-19T00:58:00.000+11:002011-10-19T00:58:01.736+11:00

A was in a different continent for the past three months for her PhD work. In these three months, I talked to her online and on the phone on several occasions, but obviously, only about things that are going on in the surface of our lives. At times, I really missed just going to her room randomly and talking about anything and everything. The thing is, over the years, I have learnt to rely on her

Lnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-44674505258413189052011-10-14T13:11:00.000+11:002011-10-23T23:57:11.723+11:00

Wrote this a few months ago, with a tune! :) Every time she lets herself dream, The dream becomes a wondering thought. She tells herself over and over again Not to try to reach high, 'cause its a long shot. There's a huge, huge chance she'll fall, Shatter into pieces and crawl back into her cocoon of tears, Strengthening those unsaid fears. They say all those things In the songs they sing of

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-52650131224564632402011-10-03T02:04:00.001+11:002011-10-23T23:57:11.723+11:00

Yes, its 2.03 AM, and I really should be studying... instead, I just wrote a lame rhyme. Hope I get to use this on someone someday! xD When I look at you, My sympathetic system makes me feel pathetic. Raising heart rate Making pupils dilate It gives me away, And I look for words that I should say That won't make you notice That you make me release A whole bunch of stuff like dopamine. When I

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-56359120160723193502011-09-30T23:30:00.000+10:002011-09-30T23:30:07.941+10:00

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-85135320496106071892011-09-13T21:50:00.000+10:002011-09-13T21:50:50.999+10:00

After reading an excerpt from 'The Little Prince' in someone's status, I decided to begin reading it myself. I am up to chapter seven and I think it has already began to become one of my favourite books. However, I do fear I am becoming like one of those adults the main character keeps referring to. It seems like I just don't have enough time to do anything any more, yet my to-do list seems to

Lnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-75479450537329355242011-08-26T20:06:00.000+10:002011-08-26T20:06:36.299+10:00

Once again, I am at the doorstep of a difficult week ahead of me. Once again, I feel like I have too much on my plates and not enough time to digest it all. I have several exams, one quiz and one report due next week. Ramadan is nearly at its end, and, I have felt increasingly annoyed at myself for not using this time to its fullest. A certain issue has prodded my mind for the past few weeks,

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-47912945040163949132011-08-17T23:04:00.000+10:002011-09-14T06:49:00.720+10:00

Every time she lets herself dreamThe dream becomes a wandering thoughtIt wanders to the edge of her mindAnd often, out of carelessness,While her mind rocks in uncertainties,The dream falls.Then, over and over again,They fall.The fallen dreams become sharp pieces of caution.Shattered, they cut into the soft fleshof what her heart used to be.

Lnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-14463707105753738692011-07-31T08:20:00.000+10:002011-07-31T08:20:27.656+10:00

Once again, I have privatised this blog for only a handful of you (six, to be exact). The reason is that I have realised (once again) that my public sphere is getting larger, so, if somehow, one of my employers, or students, or someone who does not know as much about my personal life as you guys do, finds this blog, I will be in for either a huge trouble or an embarrassment. I have realised that

Lnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-56091358598401554482011-07-11T12:58:00.000+10:002011-07-11T12:58:42.361+10:00

Just remembered how much I used to love this song. Kimya Dawson makes me sigh and smile. "My heart is on my sleeve my head is in the sand i said how did we end up here? you said happenstance but i didn't understand so i made other plans i ran to the ocean washed the blood off of my hands i washed away my tears washed away ten years washed away the empty space in-between my ears and you said

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-12331852643371333752011-07-07T01:27:00.000+10:002011-07-07T01:27:55.315+10:00

Chocolate with nuts Witty romantic comedies, preferably with unexpected turns Late night dreams Silly thoughts Random smiles from people I don't know Apuni Double blanket Tiny pillow Little whiteboard Red things Rain on a lazy day Clouds Coral tree in front of my window Sunset Camera Editing photos Pranks Making lists Ocean Ice cream Babies New ideas Experimenting with myself MX Good/neutral

Lnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-50627788791659208452011-07-06T00:52:00.000+10:002011-07-06T00:52:12.562+10:00

Lately, things that I have been saying to people have not been making sense to them. I mean, the words make perfect sense while they are in my head, they even make sense as I speak, however, something happens along the way, and they are completely misinterpreted. I would very much like to say that it is the rest of the world that is at fault, but I think the more plausible explanation is that

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-20251621566982806822011-07-04T00:21:00.000+10:002011-07-04T00:21:26.424+10:00

1. The worst thing about psychologists is that they cannot help their patients UNTIL they decides to cooperate too. Which is perfectly fine, because, the mere fact that patients agree to go to the psychologist by paying money is an indication that either they are willing to cooperate, or they have a lot of cash to get rid of. Either way, the psychologist has something to gain. That is why, free

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-3694488613932494972011-07-03T16:08:00.000+10:002011-07-03T16:08:15.142+10:00

'Somebody once asked Could I spare some change for gas - I need to get myself away from this place. I said, yep! What a concept! I could use a little fuel myself. We could all use a little change.'

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-22304209426476009962011-06-30T10:07:00.000+10:002011-06-30T10:07:23.867+10:00

Double your impact on world hunger. ONLY UNTIL MIDNIGHT TONIGHT!! DON'T MISS THIS! https://www.wfp.org/donate/ethiopia_AU?utm_source=june_campaign&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=AU_appeal2

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-44128269370670138642011-06-29T10:27:00.000+10:002011-06-29T10:27:45.186+10:00

I love the ability to leave and return to people when I want to. Although I still live with my family, I have my own room which is a pretty safe place to retreat to if I feel like being by myself. And living in the age of internet and phone, I can easily reach/turn off the outside world. I hate to have people in my face, all the time. 

Lnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-79020770689681188352011-06-29T00:46:00.000+10:002011-06-29T00:46:29.967+10:00

You can only feel the impact of depression once you know someone who is going through it. The only way that you can understand it better is if you go through it yourself. But, as an outsider, there is no better way to learn than to watch. And when you do, you realise that it is one of the most horrible things that could ever happen to a person. To lose hope, is to lose it all.

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-40054091818601753792011-06-22T21:41:00.000+10:002011-06-22T21:41:52.873+10:00

God knows how long its been since I talked to Nanu. She was saying how she took out my old poems and read them, and that she was thinking about me. I have only gotten to know her a little better at the beginning of this year. I never bothered to find out what an amazing person she is. I never knew about her interests, life before she became a grandmother. I had only started to get to know her.

Lnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-91969140455307220402011-06-22T02:43:00.001+10:002011-06-22T02:43:11.696+10:00

I opened up an account with 365project.org a long time ago (February 24, 2011 - to be exact), but never ended up using it. Although I love taking photos, I go through stages of being attached to my camera and completely forgetting it. The night before last night, I had a sudden inspiration to start using the project, with a theme of 'words' (although the theme didn't come to me until the second

Lnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-34619385516484463062011-06-19T18:59:00.000+10:002011-06-19T18:59:05.508+10:00

I can only imagine the anticipation they must be feeling. Did his fingers tingle when he saw the letter? Did her heart beat a little faster when she heard the news? I wonder how they are hiding their smiles and walking about as if nothing have happened. Or is it too grand for words? I hope they are happy, always and forever, falling a little more in love everyday. This is for you, B&B.

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-48402304257148127792011-06-17T23:48:00.000+10:002011-06-17T23:48:38.794+10:00

I am pretty sure there is a hole/an undiscovered pocket in my bag. In times of dire need, I forget that I failed to discover the opening in the past, and I take out everything in my bag to extract that pen that I keep feeling. And every single time, I have to put everything back in frustration and reaffirm that the hole/pocket has somehow become undone. It reminds of Finders Keepers by Emily

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-62803774644726086912011-06-16T00:06:00.000+10:002011-09-14T06:49:00.720+10:00

Words began by tumbling across your heart,They stomp around in an arrogant, flaring rage,They boil and brew the letters within themselves;Words began by breaking out of their cage. They try to find a way to climb to lips,They stutter as they struggle in their path.They clog your throat, hurrying in their quest,Words cannot contain this untamed wrath. The other words have broken down already,They

Lnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-60135854650792792642011-06-13T23:46:00.000+10:002011-06-13T23:46:39.192+10:00

"...Waging war to shape the poet and the beat I hope its going to make you notice Someone like me. I've been roaming around, I'm looking down and all I see Painted faces fill the places I can't reach." My latest favourite song is 'Use Somebody' by King of Leons. Not sure why, but it just popped into my mind today, even though I haven't listened to the song for a long while. Possibly because my

Lnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-15138171372837137002011-06-11T01:33:00.000+10:002011-06-11T01:33:25.116+10:00

I almost forgot that I used to write my thoughts in a special (which shall definitely stay unspecified) corner of my phone. The funny thing is, I can remember nearly every single situation when I read over my entries. Some of them are from Bangladesh when I had very little personal space - I just let all of my thoughts out through written words instead of letting them leak out in any other way.

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-62828369678222384352011-06-09T22:34:00.000+10:002011-06-09T22:34:09.589+10:00

This morning, I walked out of the house wearing three layers of clothing, which included several pieces - skivvy, abayya, woollen jacket, jeans AND harem pants, and I still felt cold. I think what I need is a pair of boots, and I shall be able to completely eliminate any drafts coming through. My mum has a way of wearing a thick scarf on top of her hijab. She attempted to dress me that way when I

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-65999509073318851802011-06-08T13:03:00.000+10:002011-06-08T13:03:22.964+10:00

Both the movie, and the song. Might re-watch after exams, or during procrastination.

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-7234781234922594152011-06-07T11:50:00.000+10:002011-06-07T11:50:46.834+10:00

*Only I may feel the spirit each sentence is written with. :) My physiology exam is in exactly one week and I am hoping to smash it. I am not quite sure how realistic the hope is, however, I still feel that flickering light burning. I have the rest of the day today, most of the day on thursday and friday to finish off my notes. Tomorrow, the weekend and one thursday next week will be psychology

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-86881568947510986152011-06-07T00:50:00.000+10:002011-09-14T06:49:00.720+10:00

She prays for a pair of wings; Wishes her heart could sing out loud. She yearns to breathe the rain, For it may wash her pain away. She imagines the land beyond that fence, Wonders what her chance could have been Then laughs at her own silliness. Does freedom exist at all? Does the world ever hear their screams? Gun shots, spilt blood, Does it see their broken dreams? Would it shudder at the

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-1055460916146858792011-06-02T23:24:00.001+10:002011-06-02T23:25:38.200+10:00

If you had to choose a favourite finger, which one would you choose?  I recently found out that one of my very good friends has a blog. She wishes to remain anonymous to her known world, therefore, I shall not divulge any details. However, the more I know her, the more I am fascinated. I honestly don't understand why she has a social phobia - she's amazing! She would go out of her way to help

Lnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-21882798984074689492011-06-01T12:45:00.000+10:002011-06-01T12:45:10.436+10:00

Today feels like a Saturday... possibly because: - I made pancakes. - I took time to nicely present a pancake to myself (with natural yoghurt, vanilla creamed chocolate cookie crumbles and honey) and then had breakfast in bed while watching a TV show. - My parents are home. And that's not supposed to happen on a Wednesday. - I am legally missing university. Its the last week of uni and no

Lnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-40209750847642822532011-05-27T01:01:00.001+10:002011-05-27T01:03:42.719+10:00

I FINALLY TOOK A PHOTO OF MY AWESOME CUP! And yes, I just used those books, the rose petals and the fifty dollar note to show off. Go ahead and admire my cup.

Lnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-15327281444363676932011-05-26T13:58:00.001+10:002011-05-26T13:58:53.669+10:00

(Just realised I wrote this exactly a month ago!) I wrote this one on the 18th of August, 2010. Now that I look back on my posts, that particular day was not so bad. I think that was the end of my journey of one cycle - when I was in the 'reformed' state. However, I vaguely remember how I felt a few days before this, and it was not good. However, alhamdulillah, I managed to get out of it. So

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-19988574954796126882011-05-25T13:46:00.000+10:002011-05-25T13:46:49.040+10:00

*Not a racist remark. Scroll down for details. I bought four rechargeable batteries in order to bring my camera back to life. It has lain lifelessly on my shelf for way too long, while autumn colours are getting a little different every single day. When I saw CJ's autumn album, it just made my urge to capture the colours stronger and stronger. I told him I'd steal his idea, however, I haven't

Lnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-87122867672510756802011-05-22T23:31:00.000+10:002011-05-22T23:31:24.129+10:00

For the past week, I have been living inside my head, a lot. Some of the times arose when I desperately wanted to get away from a certain place. There were unanswered questions on my mind that I could not come to terms with, nor could I discuss them with anyone else, because I had trouble figuring out what those questions even were. So, when people started to question me about anything related

Lnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-75177152285391461152011-05-16T17:59:00.000+10:002011-05-16T17:59:36.600+10:00

The last few days were crazy. I often found myself inside my head like I haven't been for quite a while. The reason is of course that I had a LOT of things to do, and so, as usual, my body, mind and soul wanted to forget all about it quite forcefully. But, one of the exams is over - the big one - it was worth 90%. I was dreading it so much that I left studying till very, very late. The assignment

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-57312853213359260682011-05-16T00:30:00.000+10:002011-05-16T00:30:29.414+10:00

The best thing about public blogging is that there are an infinite number of combinations of its outcome. It gives you the comfort of releasing your words to something other than a wall or a silent page without disturbing another soul in the world. People are so busy with their productive lives that they have neither the time nor the mindset to listen to the rantage of an unimportant being

Lnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-74346422716053894232011-05-12T20:51:00.000+10:002011-05-14T06:31:01.025+10:00

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind was a brilliant film that reminded me of Inception. The whole idea of mapping your memory and removing parts of it to reduce heartache is absolutely amazing. I think, there are moments in most people's life, when they would love to take advantage of such a system. (I say most, because, I have actually met people who have no spots in their mind to begin with.

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-88208047191422262412011-05-11T10:22:00.000+10:002011-05-11T10:22:56.286+10:00

She was nineteen years and eleven months old. He just turned thirty. She was a perfect daughter who kept the house clean, studied well and took care of her younger siblings. By that time, she grew out of her tree-climbing and swimming days, she grew out of her kiddish clothes and started dressing like a girl. She grew out of the obliviousness of the people around her and started looking into

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-90477435348487440342011-05-11T01:21:00.000+10:002011-05-11T01:21:20.636+10:00

I am looking forward to next Wednesday night almost in desperation. I have two exams and one assignment due within that time, and I feel absolutely helpless with my procrastination. I think I am not completely depressed yet because I still feel like I have some hope. Things I have to do are: - Finish psych assignment (by tomorrow night, definitely, definitely, definitely inshaAllah) - Study for

Lnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-82812718009310752862011-05-09T02:16:00.000+10:002011-05-09T02:16:33.567+10:00

The reality is so much harsher than what we thought it would be when we were six. The reality is so much harsher than what we thought it would be when we were sixteen. Its a sad moment of truth when you figure out you have actually stopped looking into the world through rose tinted glasses. The moment when you realise that you stopped believing in fairy tales, you stopped imagining yourself to be

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-40137414817950872382011-05-06T12:13:00.000+10:002011-05-06T12:13:00.929+10:00

Days like today make me wish I would bother to get myself off the bed every morning and implement some sort of a discipline to my life. I enjoy my classes when I turn up to them, but I usually do not seem to have the motivation to turn up, especially when they tell you that only eighty percent of attendance is compulsory, and even then, its negotiable. However, this morning, I realised that I

Lnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-7208641072964755612011-05-05T10:34:00.000+10:002011-05-05T10:34:33.229+10:00

So, this morning, I was on the train and I got a text message. I immediately called up a friend that I was supposed to meet in half an hour and said something along the lines of: 'Assalamu Alaikum! Where are you?... It got cancelled. I don't know, I had nothing to do with it, but I don't know why they would plan it for so long and then cancel it like that.' Maybe I was imagining it, but I think

Lnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-71121868573850772752011-05-04T23:12:00.000+10:002011-05-22T23:44:08.988+10:00

Why can we not fight violence with peace? Knowing that violence breeds violence,hatred breeds hatred,blood requires more blood to be poured out on earth.Why can we not face a frown,with a smile? Words are sweeter,Yet pens are mightier than swords. (2.5.2011) The following is copywrited to the fifteen year old Sum, one of my awesomest little sisters: "...the endlesss cycle of war and hatred,

Lnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-58520364623825406332011-05-03T17:49:00.000+10:002011-05-03T17:49:42.535+10:00

Today, when I was walking on an usual street, I saw a very old man standing in front his house. I smiled and said hello. He smiled back, and said, 'You are a very happy woman. Beautiful! Bella!' That made me smile for the next five minutes.  There's another old man on our street who usually stands in his balcony and smokes, or talks on the phone in a loud voice. And every time I go past, he

Lnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-24320560954096702732011-05-03T10:41:00.000+10:002011-05-03T10:41:00.784+10:00

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-4593251374846819492011-05-02T21:39:00.001+10:002011-05-02T22:41:15.087+10:00

In this extremely secret mission, they killed Osama Bin Laden. A lead that no other country knew about, not even Pakistan, which housed the man. After he was killed, he was 'buried at sea'. No one saw him, no one knows what really happened, except for what they have been told by the media. No one has ever seen this man except for his creepy videos. In September 11, in an around the twin tower,

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-50582526996872557542011-05-01T19:17:00.001+10:002011-05-01T19:18:48.407+10:00

Lnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-78315742851900441392011-04-30T23:47:00.000+10:002011-04-30T23:47:44.502+10:00

Someday, I think I will have to have the two-sentence-convo with one of my employers - 'You're fired.' 'You can't fire me because I quit.'. His sense of integrity is somewhat higher than his wife (another employer of mine), however, it hasn't quite reached the standard of 'nice' human beings. They run a tutoring centre, yet, the main thing they care about is the apparent satisfaction of the

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-2437932446243659322011-04-29T22:10:00.002+10:002011-04-29T22:10:49.159+10:00

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-41049721861643965122011-04-29T09:59:00.001+10:002011-04-29T17:36:57.680+10:00

This morning, as I made a cup of coffee (quite elaborately, with my new frother), my mother gave me a mixed look of extreme love and a little sadness, and said, 'I worry about you. You don't take life seriously at all.'. That made me laugh and love her a little more. However, as I thought about it later (over the coffee), I realised she is right. I have these sudden bursts of energy when I feel

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-1785778916895731902011-04-28T09:24:00.000+10:002011-04-28T09:24:59.736+10:00

I only mentioned it in my last post, but did not elaborate. However, I think it is something that is worth elaborating on - my frother. It is as amazing as it sounds - it froths! Currently, I am trying to work out how to maximise the froth. The most amazing thing is, it costs only $2.99. A small, cheap cappuccino (only to be found at universities because the coffee makers know how broke most of

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-30266560427710470852011-04-27T09:10:00.001+10:002011-04-27T09:11:41.352+10:00

Freedom feels like smelling those eight fresh roses that your best friend gave you on your birthday. Freedom feels like walking in the lightest of rain - being touched by it, but not becoming wet. Freedom feels like tasting that first sip of water after a long day when you've forgotten to take your water bottle. Freedom feels like watching the ocean break its waves on enormous stones. Freedom

Lnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-9940778722310610452011-04-26T12:41:00.000+10:002011-05-22T23:44:08.989+10:00

The holidays have flown by so far and I know for a fact that the rest of it will do the same. There is something to do, some sort of an event, every single day. I was looking forward to this week because I thought that I could finally spend some time just with myself, sorting out my thoughts, cleaning up my act. However, due to a lot of procrastination on my part and a little lack of co-operation

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-11667862425642425992011-04-24T22:49:00.001+10:002011-04-24T23:02:26.548+10:00

I was going through my blog and I found this: http://lamzblog.blogspot.com/2005/11/you-are-13-years-old-hey-its-close.html#comments So I went to the source of my knowledge and did a quiz of similar sort. Back then, I was fourteen and a half. Here is my result now: http://www.blogthings.com/whatagequiz/results/?result=20 I turned 20 exactly two weeks ago. Am I that typical? :| As it turns

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-70117525167856405772011-04-22T22:46:00.001+10:002011-04-24T21:32:17.776+10:00

I had brunch with my best friend from primary school at a chocolate restaurant a few days ago. At times, I found myself wondering why she still wants to keep in touch. Her intellectual capabilities are obviously much higher than mine, we have grown to grow up in completely different contexts and we are looking for different things out of our lives. Yet, the whole day turned out to be great. We

Lnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-14542779068450268522011-04-19T21:57:00.000+10:002011-04-19T21:57:36.003+10:00

You yearn to breathe in their scent, your fingers grapple to touch, you listen intently for any of their signs. They make your heart beat faster. They put a smile on your face. They force you to close your eyes and enjoy their view through your mind.  Yet, you feel cautious. How many times does one linger near fire after being burnt, regardless of its warmth and vividness?  Beautiful words bear

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-73434984360407074192011-04-18T11:01:00.000+10:002011-04-18T11:01:05.290+10:00

My mother is now on holidays from her work. However, being the superwoman that she is, she does not usually take 'holidays'. She has been constantly working around the the house - preparing amazing meals for us every night, cleaning the house, organising cupboards, supervising reconstruction of the backyard and every other possible thing that needs to be done. In one of these endeavours, she

Lnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-4151346453170647292011-04-15T16:12:00.000+10:002011-04-15T16:12:05.030+10:00

Just finished reading yet another depressing novel written by Shomoresh Mojumdar. Of the books I have read, most of them have been about a person (or people) who have been some sort of a victim by another deceptive fellow human being (or beings). This one was about a middle aged man who derives sexual pleasure from violent attacks on women. He basically starts off by being extremely romantic and

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-44712470386368320602011-04-14T21:53:00.001+10:002011-04-14T21:55:32.465+10:00

Goodbyes are very awkward, as NCho pointed out the other day. It was raining, I was wearing a long dress (as usual, it needed to be shortened, therefore I was holding it up (un)gracefully) and both of my hands were occupied with things. We were standing under open sky and talking to FG and her group of four or five friends for about five minutes. It took us five extra minutes just to say goodbye

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-65545533818430735862011-04-13T12:11:00.001+10:002011-04-13T12:12:54.376+10:00

I am sitting in one of the most beautiful places at uni. It has a little fountain, many trees filled with absolutely green leaves, some with pink or red flowers; and it is surrounded by one of the oldest buildings at uni on all four sides. There are brown park benches here and there, with a silver sign on each: 'NO SMOKING. VENTILATION AIR INTAKE IN THIS AREA.' Ironically, as soon as I read the

Lnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-35427217972641090142011-04-11T18:54:00.000+10:002011-04-24T21:32:17.776+10:00

Let everything I do Be for You. My smiles, The beats of my heart, Footsteps, Every new start. Eyelashes Crawling down my cheek with tears, The light that my eyes seek. Every word that breaks the silent night, The rays of hope that keeps me alive, Let them keep shining bright. Every moment, every glance, every breath. 'Till I knock on the door of my death; Let them be For You.

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-86670555269514245792011-04-10T22:24:00.001+10:002011-04-10T22:24:21.173+10:00

Precious, a photo by LamZity on Flickr.

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-37762753905756060792011-04-09T19:37:00.001+10:002011-04-09T19:38:28.720+10:00

Ideally, today was supposed to be one of the most productive days of my life. I had the whole house nearly to myself for nearly most of the day, I have tonnes of cleaning to do, I have tonnes of studying to do, I am at a stage where I have began to realistically plan for my activities, I currently am not suffering from an extremely low or extremely inflated self-esteem, I have my laptop and I

Lnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-77220263229544697552011-04-08T13:04:00.001+10:002011-04-08T13:04:45.854+10:00

When I finished my class at 10 today, I had the same feeling as I did after the first set of exams of year 12. My last exam was extension 2 maths, a few hours after which we were flying to BD. On the way back, I had this feeling of absolute happiness – top-of-the-world feeling. I felt as if every single thing on the entire planet was at its most beautiful state and I was lucky enough to

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-78251452730860711242011-04-06T14:18:00.000+10:002011-04-24T23:06:10.755+10:00

I currently am not in love nor can I stand any mushiness amongst my friends or strangers. Yet, I loved this song as soon as I heard it. It is indeed very mushy, and at a certain level, it is very cliched. But I think I love the imagery that it begins with. It also sounds like the tune of a few of my songs, especially this one: You took my heart and broke it into pieces, You analysed hard and

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-66609669891272416562011-04-03T09:34:00.001+10:002011-04-24T23:06:10.756+10:00

The windows are open, I feel the cool breeze touching me - Touching my heart. I send out a smile, Smile for those who are living this art. I know the world is full of bloodshed; Tiny stomachs that need to be fed; Young souls passing on each day, Even before they had a chance to play In the field of life. I know the world is full of bleakness - It has lost a lot of its sweetness. Just another

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-52786154615778035532011-04-01T09:49:00.000+11:002011-04-01T09:49:03.015+11:00

Complaints (skippable): I woke up at 2-something-AM in excruciating pain and extremely cold feet. I was literally wide awake and knew that I would be unable to go back to sleep for a very long time. I made myself a cup of coffee and sat down to summarise physiology. At 6-something-AM, I realised I had not done much, even though it had been about four hours. If my annoyance level was moderately

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-39177378234547986572011-03-30T10:19:00.000+11:002011-03-30T10:19:54.594+11:00

I ordered my Dell inspiron mini 10 yesterday. Yes, I am already refering to it as being 'mine', even though it has not been created yet. I already feel a deep sense of attachment to it, I guess its because it is the first huge thing that I am buying after working like crazy for the past few months. I have never been able to save up this much while I still had access to my money. Never! So yes -

Lnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-79664934090220074132011-03-27T11:27:00.001+11:002011-03-27T11:35:59.601+11:00

A typical weekday in my life should go something like this - wake up 10 minute-ish after alarm goes off, pray Fajr, ponder over what to wear for the day, have breakfast, run out and catch the train, university, work, home, pray Maghrib, dinner, Isha, sleeeeeep. On a typical day, I should not be able to see day light from home. On a typical day, I should be able to be so tired from the whole day

Lnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-17764964600325774662011-03-22T17:56:00.000+11:002011-03-22T17:56:44.315+11:00

After three days of constant rain, the sky now a brilliant blue with picturesque vanilla clouds. I think I have reached either the fourth of fifth stage of my circular life. I am feeling extremely lazy about everything, even though, in theory, I should be enjoying every aspect of my life. I chose to do most of them. I chose my degree, I chose my job, I chose my community work - I chose how to

Lnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-76812235645981116752011-03-21T12:22:00.000+11:002011-03-21T12:22:28.711+11:00

Favourite time of the day: Sunset Favourite flower: Frangipani Favourite accessories: Red glass bangles Favourite weather: Rainy morning Favourite beverage: Coffee Favourite part of the body: the wrist (I don't know why, but I think a person's wrist spells out innocence.) *subject to change according to mood, age, weather, day, moment.

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-9788663082592648112011-03-20T21:18:00.001+11:002011-03-20T21:18:19.276+11:00

My favourite flower is Frangipani.

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-58506375639198512802011-03-17T22:27:00.000+11:002011-03-17T22:27:30.305+11:00

My life was so empty at the beginning of this year that I started piling things in it. Now, things have piled up so much that I am wondering if I could somehow coax some scientist into lengthening the time of each day, without taking away any time from the next. (I know my only solution is getting organised.. but I was hoping there was an easy way out of this...) ps: I hope none of my employers

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-24820891361432373382011-03-14T10:44:00.002+11:002011-03-14T10:44:38.048+11:00

A word is dead When it is said Some say I say it just Begins to live That Day. (Emily Dickinson)

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-78549466239711311672011-03-11T14:06:00.001+11:002011-04-24T21:34:15.541+10:00

Its been nearly a month since I last wrote in here! However, I haven't stopped writing altogether (as you can tell...). In case you, my precious reader, did not realise/know, I started a second blog. While I vent and state my personal evolution in this one, I shall fill up the other blog with advices from my life. Things I learnt that have made me a better person - things I learnt from others and

Lnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-46815097524571485322011-02-14T14:59:00.000+11:002011-02-14T14:59:31.487+11:00

I completely cleaned out my room yesterday. The main intention was to clean out the space under my bed, because, I changed my bedsheet to a simple cream coloured one. And somehow, it seemed very out of place as it draped over boxes, newspapers, shoes stashed in the small rectangular space. This realisation led me to approximately three hours of intensive cleaning - which included dusting and

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-30255128952342794332011-02-10T21:04:00.000+11:002011-02-10T21:04:00.984+11:00

I am very pleased to announce that life has nearly resumed its regularity. Or normality, I should say. I have began to tutor both of students again. I'm positive about getting a few more, hopefully my positivity will yield some real results. I have finally figured out a way to wear the hijab slightly neater than I have been in the past. My clothes sense has improved, according to Marisa. Let's

Lnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-25869360444848062102011-02-05T11:07:00.000+11:002011-02-05T11:07:04.799+11:00

I heard this song last night, and I've been listening to it for a while. There is a certain amazing factor to it, I think its the eerie feeling. The feeling that you have jumped off, and there is no way of jumping back again. That suffocated feeling. I'm just a normal boy That sank when I fell overboard  My ship would leave the country  But I'd rather swim ashore  Without a life vest I'd be

Lnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-48063511245720653702011-02-04T22:15:00.000+11:002011-02-04T22:15:30.375+11:00

Saw the world turning in my sheets and once again I cannot sleep. Walk out the door and up the street; look at the stars beneath my feet. Remember rights that I did wrong, so here I go. Hello, hello. There is no place I cannot go. My mind is muddy but my heart is heavy. Does it show? I lose the track that loses me, so here I go. And so I sent some men to fight, and one came back at dead of

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-7861471509320831922011-02-02T00:38:00.000+11:002011-02-02T00:38:42.911+11:00

I went on PostSecret after a long time. I like it, I guess its partly because I can relate to some, partly because its secrets of strangers. Its interesting to try to imagine the person with the smallest amount of information available. :) Cute secret: 'Even though I haven't found you yet, I take comfort in knowing you haven't found me either. Be patient.'

Lnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-89989946258335295862011-01-30T01:01:00.000+11:002011-01-30T01:01:10.406+11:00

Recently, I am feeling the need of writing more about Islam, due to various reasons:- I am coming across people who are probably in some situation that I have been in the past, yet, they are not receiving any guide about the 'yes's and 'no's of handling those situations. For example, if you are a born-muslim, yet you want to revive the religion within yourself, you may wonder where to start. Do

Lnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-29950800551702178572011-01-25T08:44:00.001+11:002011-04-24T21:34:02.319+10:00

The minutes crawl by ever so slowly When in imprisonment from the worldIn this bubble, we scream internally Smile outwardlyBaring teeth at the second hand of that clock towerWe drift awayTo the world experienced in clouds... If I can remember correctly, I have been on eleven planes in my life. However, this time, it feels like I am experiencing the feeling of flying over clouds for the first

Lnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-69676683112495022011-01-22T19:05:00.001+11:002011-01-23T17:55:51.619+11:00

I've been talking to Nanu a lot lately. I always knew her to be a practical woman, expert at handling her home but not very interested in anything intellectual, creative or romantic. I knew that Nanabhai was all of that, he drew sketches of famous people for his children, played badminton and chess with them, wrote more than 30 pages of letters to his wife, wrote poetry, read thousands of books.

Lnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-41443333191604148252011-01-20T16:13:00.000+11:002011-01-20T16:13:05.750+11:00

The wedding hype has died down a little in the last four days. The sleepless nights were made up by sleeping nearly all day for the past two days. My mother thinks I am competing in sleeping with cousin S, who's well-known for this skill. Her eight-year-old brother cut his big toe on glass one fine evening and caused a lot of chaos. He was screaming and crying like there is no tomorrow, making

Lnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-8540930816368491162011-01-12T15:05:00.000+11:002011-01-12T15:05:19.622+11:00

Here I am, sipping on tea lazily while most of my jobs are done by others. This is one thing I love about being here - most people expect you to do nothing. Yesterday, my day was spent behind eating a few guavas, sleeping (a lot), shopping and a tiny drama. When we came back home around maghrib, we found my dad frantically looking for his watch. My mother could have sworn she saw it on the bed

Lnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-330314287718514452011-01-10T18:28:00.000+11:002011-01-10T18:28:49.451+11:00

Sunlight streamed through balcony grills as a little girl sang against a tune played on the harmonium. A crow is calling out in the distance. I'm sitting here, in Dhaka. Waiting to get back to home, yet, looking forward to the new beginning. The hint of excitement is filling the city air, along with the load of worries emanating from the groom's mother's face. Everyone is together, yet busy in

Lnoreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12528046.post-26014633077361359892011-01-10T03:34:00.000+11:002011-01-10T03:34:22.991+11:00

I realised with a sudden jolt that I've forgotten how to dream about the distant future.

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In the past few weeks, I have seen the relationship between two people get from that of enemies to something that's completely in the opposite direction. So much so that it is becoming unbearable to remain anywhere near them without feeling sick. It feels like I have seen it all before. I have seen how the story goes and it does not have a happy ending. Then why is it repeated over and over again

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