"And I-I-I wanna thank you, for giving me the best days of my life..."

What a time we had,

when all of us were young.

Laughing in the rain

and basking in the sun.

Not a care in the world,

so wonderful to be free...


I am now older than I used to be.

I cannot play anymore with you,

and neither can you with me.

We are now bound by the strings of time,

to live as we are now,

awaiting harder times.


I mourn that I am no longer young with you,

but strangely have no regrets about being old.

For I was happy then and I am happy now,

I just wish I had both happiness to hold.

copyrighted Shehla Naz Faizi.

Graffiti Nation

Despite the lack of literacy in this country (about 60% percent of the population can't really read or write), the amount of chalkings that you do find upon its walls is surprising.

Political/satirical, social or commercial; you will find some form of writing or the other upon its walls. And the funny thing is chalkings are not just restricted to walls.

I find the most interesting bits of writing on the backs and sides of trucks, buses and any and all modes of transportation (including donkey-carts!). With their poetic declarations of love, heartbreak and religious fervour, all tinged with just the right amount of humour.

It speaks volumes for a nation, which has an obvious handicap in terms of the lack of literacy, is still able to communicate such insight into its inner workings by something as simple as unrelenting graffiti. Bravo!

Edit. Erase. Repeat.

It's vicious cycle which I can't seem to escape...I write, I edit and then I eventually erase...

I don't know if other people go through this or not, but for me, if I could, I would be perpetually erasing all traces of everything I ever did in my past – every bit of literary writing I ever did, every picture I ever drew, every song I ever recorded on tape and every home video ever made of me...

I like to think it's because I'm better now than what I used to be at everything, and any visible trace of my 'inferior' past existence causes me incredible anguish (which it truly does), but I think there is something more there...

...I think very few people are worth remembering after they are dead and until I become one of them, I'll keep erasing...

All a matter of illegible communication...

I dislike it intensely when people state simple matters in complicated ways...

The purpose of Language is to create clarity in communication and yet alot of people use it in a way that is the exact opposite.

But why?

When you possess a gift to communicate well, why abuse that gift? Why create confusion within the mind?

If there is something intelligent that needs to be said, it should be expressed simply for the benefit of everyone around you. Otherwise you might as well be speaking to yourself.

"Could be the reason why I never really cared for Shakespeare..."

The Uncertainty Principle

When you look at 'darkness', I mean the word in its literal sense, it just means a 'lack of light'. But for some reason it seems to frighten us beyond measure.

When you examine darkness, in the sense that you turn off the lights of a room, it's still the same room, it's just that there is no light there anymore. So why go into a crippling mental state on the bases of such a minor lacking?

Alot of people reason this 'fear of the dark' through symbolism, which has varying implications for all that is dark, ranging from "evil forces" and "going astray" to generally everything which is not good in this world. But the question is "Why?" Why do such symbolisms exist?

I am not sure but I have a theory.

I think it all exists on the general basis of 'Uncertainty'. Whenever there is an absence of light a person is automatically thrown into the realm of uncertainty. Although only one of our senses has been disabled (the rest are functioning as always) we only then realise how heavily dependent we are on our sight. Under such conditions we are very uncomfortable with having to 'stumble around' trying to find our way through– we are, in essence, 'uncertain' of what we have to do next.

Human beings in general, I think, have a great loathing for 'uncertainty'. We do not deal with it very well.

But this principle of 'uncertainty' leads to another theory I have.

I think "Evil" in itself is not an entity. I think evil is but a mere presence of 'uncertainty' in a situation and nothing more. Or more appropriately "doubt". When you think about it alot of 'bad things' generally arise when we have doubt about a person, a situation or even about ourselves.

Although it is true that a person cannot be certain about everything that is around him/her, but the way he/she chooses to handle 'uncertainty' is key to the outcome of the uncertainty...so I believe evil is basically being afraid of the uncertain...

I shall ponder some more and see if there is a better answer to my question...

Hope.

There is never a time when we are without Hope...but hope can often be deceptively small.

At all times we carry within our hands, our tiny bit of hope. A mere candle in the vast darkness that is our existence. It is true, light from such hope can never be quite adequate but atleast it's there.
But too often, in our haste to get through life, we are drawn to that flair in the distance (it is not our own, we are not even sure if it's real) which for that instant is so much brighter than the candle that we hold in our hand. We reach for it, our arms out-stretched...but it's gone...

Our distant beacon has vanished. Its brightness now but a distant memory...but our little candle remains. In our haste it was dropped, but our little hope endures...lopsided, it endures...

Until we awaken from our daze, rub our eyes in disbelief and realise our folly.

And it is then that we bend in humility; grasping for hope that is truly ours--Hope that will always be our eternal guide.

Can I save the butterfly and the spider?

About a week back I finished watching an anime (those who know me know my obsession with anime^_^) series called 'Trigun'. On the surface it does seem like an incredibly ludicrous series, but the theory (for the lack of a better word) it is based on is incredible!
At one point in the series you see a flashback of a childhood event, pertaining to the protagonist of the series, Vash. This flashback is what contains the real crux of the whole series.

It shows a butterfly stuck in a spider's web with the hungry spider fast approaching, and here we are presented with young Vash's moral dilemma; he wants to save the butterfly AND the spider.

Most people would think this absurd how can BOTH be saved, the spider MUST eat the fly in order to live. Or worse most people would categorise the spider as being evil and the butterfly as being good and hence it would be alright to kill the spider. But the fact is it is often not that simple. People are not just plain good or evil. Alot goes into making them who they are.

Throughout the series, Vash goes on defeating his enemies, without (somehow) ever laying a finger on them. Near the end of the series though, he is forced to kill one of his adversaries in order to save his friends, which sends him into a state of mental anguish which would almost seem incomprehensible to people. "The man was evil, he was causing people pain and hence Vash was right to kill him."...but is it really that simple? I do not know?
My question to the world is: "Can both the spider and the fly be saved?"
I do not think so, but I do wish there was another way...

Waiting for my enemy...

In life, it is easier to ward off mockery from those who are your enemies, especially when you know you are right (although what is 'right' and what is 'wrong' can be at times very relative).
But it is a thousand times harder to parry mockery from those close to you, especially when you have been defeated by their argument.

Fact remains though; you should never have to.
Those who care for you, should be courteous enough not to make your defeat more painful for you than it already is.

I love the smell of old Libraries...wisdom smells incredibly sweet.

It's funny, I come from a long line of readers. Father, grandfather, cousins, uncles-you name it, we are all voracious readers.

Some of my fondest memories are associated with going to book vendors and buying second hand books at dirt cheap prices. And once I was done reading them I could always go back to the same vendor and return the book and get another book almost free. I loved it!

I loved the musty smell that emanated from these books, I loved the wonderfully yellowed pages, I even loved the little scribbles left behind by the previous owners. But most of all, I loved the thought that those books would take me away on some far away adventure, about which I'd be day-dreaming for weeks afterwards! It was beautiful.

Back then it was so much easier to satisfy my inherited yearning for knowledge but as I grew older it seemed harder and harder to do...

It's strange considering the fact that reading is a dying art, there are no steps taken to make books more accessible, especially where I live. Lack of decent libraries, shutting down of book fairs that sell inexpensive books (admittedly pirated, but in this country only the very rich can afford original books, it puts the the less fortunate at a great disadvantage), all contribute to the fact that in about a decade or so there will not be people reading books at all...I will miss books terribly...

"Give me my glorious black and white, that I so desire, in this obvious world of grey..."

I think humanity, as a whole, views the world in extremes. Either something is right or it is wrong; either it is day or night.
But what I think we often forget, or more appropriately 'overlook', is the fact that this world exists in compromise.
The existence of Day and night, good or bad cannot be denied, but what is harder to comprehend is the subtlety of a sunrise and sometimes the significance of a half-truth.

It is true that sometimes a neutral existence without a clear opinion can be dangerous. But often times in this world solutions are not always clear and an answer not always as simple as 'black' or 'white'.

I was touched by a little child, who smiled at me...

In our loneliness,
we wander aimless.
Consumed by ourselves,
our existence alone.

In our loneliness
we sink to despair.
Longing for kindness.
A moment of hope.

In our loneliness,
joy suddenly beckons.
A dear little child,
a dear little smile,
and a touch so slight.

In my loneliness,
I have been shown love.
A little child,
a little smile.
Heaven sent,
to rekindle my own light.

Living in a paper cup...

The more we have, the less we are grateful for things...
Those who possess next to nothing seem to have the greatest level of contentment. One of those bizzare ironies of life.
Ofcourse this does not neccesarily apply to all situations but my point is, having more makes us ungrateful for what is present before us. It's as if we become blind to the obvious and can only see that which is in a distance.
'Tis a terrible curse...

"Don't ever forget to kiss your mama goodnight"

When one cannot agree to disagree...

We are constantly vying for an edge over our fellow beings. Financially, academically, spiritually etc...

People call it ambition; it's a good thing to have, otherwise our existence would be in perpetual stagnation. But we do have a tendency of taking it too far...

Ambition is kind of like that large encyclopedia in a library. As a child we use it as a step-ladder to help us (and all those who follow) reach the books on the higher shelves.

As grown-ups we don't really require the encyclopedia's assistance to reach the higher shelves, but now it is used for another purpose: to knock all others off the ledge. We now use the encyclopedia to successfully eliminate all competition for the the higher shelves.

But then in our pursuit of keeping all others off, we lose focus of our original objective: to reach higher and become better than what we started out as.