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Masoom

The World Of Thoughts

Peace

oh dear,

all that struggle you been through,

for so called peace,

for solace,

for fulfilment,

you have been cheated, drifted, fooled away from your actual purpose,

do you ponder upon that question,

what’s my purpose?

review.

at every corner of your life,

you meet a group of souls,

your well wishers,

your alliances in search of peace,

but then see the burden they carry,

juggling with temporary moments and nights

of fun, entertainment, joy, happiness.

all hoax,

deceiving,

yet you will know, eventually,

they are lost in the same paradox,

claiming that they are all sorted out,

with the smile. atleast.

rewind.

the last time you rested in peace,

it was no nowhere,

but in your mother’s lap.

plunge.

into the change that you have been fearing on,

don’t leave it fate,

it doesn’t care for your state of mind,

it never did,

it never will.

Love.

Masoom

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The sum of life…

Firstly, it’s you, your character

and your love for humanity and nature.

Second, it’s your family.

Third, it’s everything else.

If this is not how your priorities are set,

You have got it all wrong, my dear.

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…this muslim spirit!!

I don’t know who is the author. But what this brother or sister in Islam wrote is just so true. I had to share this.

To Brenton Tarrant and the Islamophobes.

“Appreciate that you made the effort to find out the timing of our noon prayer.

Appreciate that you learnt more about our religion to know that Fridays are the days the men go to the Mosques for their congregational prayers.

But I guess they were some things you, rather unfortunately, didn’t get to learn.

Perhaps you didn’t know that what you did was made them Martyrs.

And how you have single-handedly raised the statuses of our brothers and sisters in the eyes of their beloved Creator with your actions. And how, through your actions, they will be raised as the most righteous and pious of Muslims.

Perhaps you didn’t know that doing what you did, at the time and place you chose, it actually meant the last words that escaped their lips were probably words of remembrance and praise of Allah. Which is a noble end many Muslims could only dream of.

And perhaps you didn’t know, but what you did would almost guarantee them paradise.

Appreciate that you showed the world how Muslims welcome, with open arms, even people like yourself into our Mosques, which is our second home.

Appreciate you for showing that our mosques have no locks or gates, and are unguarded because everyone and anyone is welcome to be with us.

Appreciate you for allowing the world to see the powerful image of a man you injured, lying on back on the stretcher with his index finger raised high, as a declaration of his faith and complete trust in Allah.

Appreciate how you brought the Churches and communities together to stand with us Muslims.

Appreciate that you made countless New Zealanders come out of their homes to visit the mosques nearest to them with flowers with beautiful messages of peace and love.

You have broken many many hearts and you have made the world weep. You have left a huge void.

But what you also have done have brought us closer together. And it has strengthened our faith and resolve.

In the coming weeks, more people will turn up in the Mosques, a place you hate so much, fortified by the strength in their faith, and inspired by their fallen brothers and sisters.

In the coming weeks, more non Muslims will turn up at the gates of mosques with fresh flowers and beautifully handwritten notes. They may not have known where the mosques in their area was. But now, they do. All because of you.

You may have achieved your aim of intended destruction, but I guess you failed to incite hatred, fear and despair in all of us.

And while I understand that it may have been your objective, I hate to say that after all of that elaborate planning, and the perverse and wretched efforts on your part, you still failed to drive a divide among the the Muslims and non-Muslims in the world.

For that, I can’t say that I’m sorry.

FEEL FREE TO SHARE.

#Copied

…this and that!

those souls,

you called friends and family,

are holding flowers,

peeking in your life,

through the cracks called mistakes or sins,

they are trying to get a new view on your life,

open the doors,

i bet, no one will stand.

this life,

all struggles are relative but incomparable,

I have lived a life in moment,

and those moments, leaving a scar for life.

all pains are equal but unbearable.

I’ve seen spirits smiling in a pain,

the pain, that you and me, cannot even imagine,

taste this bitterness of life,

it will, someday, give a moment to die for.

this story,

the one written for you,

or written by you,

regardless, it’s yours,

Irony, the world knows it differently,

let the world believe in the one they know,

but you have the true version of it,

sacred in your heart,

pampered by your memories,

remember, your story is just a gossip to someone else,

keep it,

respect it.

Love, Masoom

… dear past,

…hold those flowers for me, said my past,

colourful, scented, beautiful but still dead,

are you breathing? asked my past,

mangled and seething in agony and despair,

hope, is that your only weapon?

I looked for that answer in a machine,

faith, isn’t that the base of your heart?

with cracks of sins,

still held by my good deeds, surely scanty

did you find god?

I guess so,

I was told he is staring at me,

but still hiding, playing that game called life,

do you believe in love,

don’t know, but I am afraid of that angel in face of a ghost.

…am I of no importance? yelled my past,

I smiled,

the good isn’t coming back,

and the bad will always haunt me,

but there is a light, a ray of sustenance for my soul,

looking at these flower I am holding,

learning with every wave of the ocean,

feeding my curiosity to find my existence,

to claim my part,

In fact, to play my part,

but I assure, I am not in the control,

I am still broken, looking for answers,

and dear past,

you only have questions to spare…

Love, Masoom

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…time

I know a dealer, time.

offering you youth,

and seizing your childhood,

soon, there will be a new trade,

I will watch you holding that plate of wealth,

inevitably, repaying your youth,

and you will stand still,

claiming to be balanced,

in this lost deal of life.

time accused me,

wish you had a little more patience.

patience argued,

wish you had a little more time.

I found skills on the street,

oh there goes the luck, in a million dollar ride,

dear life, its not a complaint,

grateful, I found a hungry beggar, sleeping sound

but across the same road,

I see a soul, trenched in a fancy tuxedo,

popping pills,

for his best friend, anxiety.

still pondering,

have I not slept enough,

or are my dreams too immature.

waking up every morning, battling through the day,

to find that peaceful sleep again.

that question,

what do want to be when you grow up,

I found the answer now,

I want be a child, again.

Love, Masoom

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…goodbye

…after a while you learn

the subtle difference between

holding a hand n chaining a soul

and you learn

that love doesn’t mean leaning

and company doesn’t mean security.

and you begin to learn

that kisses aren’t contracts

and presents aren’t promises

and you begin to accept your defeats

with your head up and your eyes ahead

with the grace of a women, not the grief of a child

and you learn

to build all ur roads on today

because tomorrow’s ground is

too uncertain for plans

and futures have a way of falling down

in mid flight

after a while you learn

that even sunshine burns

if you get too much

so you plant your own garden

and decorate your own soul

instead of waiting for someone

to bring you flowers.

and you learn that you really can endure

you really are strong

you really do have worth

and you learn

and you learn

with every good-bye, you learn……

– Veronica A Shoffstall

 

….faith

There is something precious in your life that you do not earn and you do not own and its freely given to you. It is something that we all take for granted, not recognising its importance or significance, that thing is….. This moment and the next moment and all the moments of your existence. There is no reason to believe that you own these moments. You did not create the world and the life that it contains. You played no role in bringing yourself in to existence. There are no good reason to show that you have earned these moments, were that you even deserve another moment in your life. Such a blessing cannot be acquired or re payed by someone who doesn’t have the power  to bring oneself to existence. If someone has given you something precious, that you haven’t earned, and something that you don’t own, shouldn’t that instil an immense gratitude in your heart but who should you be grateful to.

The answer is simple, the one who created life and gave it to you. So don’t be like the one who has been given a gift and starts thanking the gift instead of the one who gave it to him. Be thankful for you life, this moment, this second and be grateful to god, the one who created your life and gave it to you and provided you with every valuable moment of your existence.

….it is God who brought you out of your mother womb, knowing nothing, and gave you hearing and sight and minds, so that you be grateful – The Koran, Ch. 16 Verse 78.

….. a lost deal

On 15th February 2015, gazing at the crowd emerged outside the Adelaide Oval, it was so hard control thoughts raising in my mind. One after another, with every new face I saw, my mind diverted to a new thought, new reason or a new opinion. It was all about blues and the greens. Indeed, the blues were majority over greens but every soul there was just for love of cricket. However, along with love for the sport, I did sense hatred, such hatred could never be compromised by love,  that cannot be understood in the shed of humanity or rather any other good factor.

Every slogan was responded with another and sounds roared outside oval just like warning that a war is about begin.  We walked from east gate to wast gate as we were waiting for gates to open. Gliding between groups, we could easily figure out the aggression, the heat and the so called patriotism for their own country. It wasn’t even hard to notice the families with oldies and kids holding flags of their respective country or as I say flags of hopes. Hope, that was driving everyone through the scorching heat, getting into crowd and pushing theirs tonsils to the limit so that everyone hears the name of their country. The passion either for the sport or the patriotism for the country was subdued but just looking at the opponent’s crowd.

I was in my casual plain clothes so it was hard to figure out what nationality I belong to as I am not a big fan of face paints or any another mockery to represent love for my country or cricket. My better half, Shaily and other few other friends and she being one crazy fan of Sachin, she had temporary tattooed ‘SACHINIST’ in her neck to portray the love her favourite sportsman. She also did carry our pride along, The Indian Flag.

By now, you would have known that this blog is written by an Indian and if you are a Pakistani, you would surely assume that I probably would be biased in the further content of the blog. I can safely say that I am be biased as these are merely the facts that I faced on the game day or more than facts, my thoughts. But please consider my love for India, because I cannot see my country losing in any game.

As I was taking about flags, I do recall something very strange. A man standing in left corner of the east gate eating barbecue glazed potato chips so fast as if someone else will claim them and he will be left hungry for the rest of the day. His love for chips was justified with the size of his belly and leaving the top three shirt buttons open was enough for me to conclude that he wasn’t a local. Moreover, he was wearing  denim jeans on 41 C day and I did hear him complaining to his friend about the no chilli & pepper over the chips. He was Indian as he had an indian flag over his shoulder. When he was done with the chips, was about to that leave the container right on the floor before he saw a security man observing him. He moved his head looking for a rubbish bin and  found one right across the floor which was about 5 steps away. He used it to which I was very thankful.  But next moment, after he was done licking all the remaining barbecue sauce from his finger, he wiped his hands with the Indian flag rushing towards the crowd he knew. He raised his voice, synchronising with the slogan and waiving the flag with his dishonesty. Now, if u are indian you might be upset, so was I. There was nothing I or you could do. I just stood their stunned and out of words.

The gates were now open and I saw people making through into the stadium and finding their spot. Each and everyone entering the stadium felt what they are about to witness is going to be history regardless that this happens every four years. Soon we were united with our friends who had hard time finding a parking spot. We made our way to the top floor to our allocated seats. While we were climbing stair, I heard humming, getting louder and louder. We haven’t yet reached the top floor and haven’t seen the ground yet. Almost out of breath, we reached the lobby and that humming sound got even more louder as we were every close to the ground. We got to our section 535, walked through the corridor following the bright light from the stadium and that humming sound. Right at the last step, I noticed that green bed where the history was about take place. Players were standing straight up facing flags and then I noticed that the humming sound was actually Pakistan’s national anthem. None of us moved from that moment until that came to an end. Right at the end of anthem, there was a roar of cheer from the fans. Within seconds, the Indian national anthem begun! My right hand got on my heart with respect and my tummy tucked in pushing my chest out with pride. Don’t ask me why!!!! But rather abrupt scene during that moment got to my attention that almost all the Pakistanis was actually seated. I was angry and shocked. I couldn’t wait for the anthem to finish so that I could cheer up so loud that all those seated would stand up with just like waking up from a horrible dream. However, my voice was not at all heard as it was dominated by the other fellow Indians. I turned with anger to walk towards my seat and the cheering hasn’t yet finished after national anthem and I saw a Pakistani man standing in the middle of other Pakistani, clapping fiercely for the national anthem and for all Indians. I looked into his eyes and we exchanged smiles. My anger was brushed away and I felt warmth, peace and respected. I am pretty sure he wanted Pakistan to win as much as any indian wanted India to win. His act gave me hope that those dumb who were disrespectful to my national anthem will learn one day. One day!!!

India has opted to bat first and game is now about to commence. R. Sharma and S.Dhavan, both inspected the pitch to their knowledge. The bowler is scrubbing the ground to make a mark so he knows where to start the run. And then goes the countdown.

Rest was history and we all know the outcome. My observation was not on hold as the game commenced but its just too much to put it in this blog. In the second innings, Pakistan had hard time to cope with Indian bowlers. Umesh Yadav, Mohammed Shami, Mohit Sharma and Ashwin were the heroes of the evening. After fall of Shahid Afridi, there wasn’t much hope left for Pakistan. Most of the Pakistanis thought of avoiding the traffic after game and started to make the way outside.

While they were walking done to the exit, we couldn’t wait to get to the Pakistanis fan zone and say good bye.  It felt really good cheering for the victory. I have lost my voice cause of shouting but the joy of winning didn’t take me let me down.  I was tired and exhausted but I wanted to show them show them how much I loved India winning.  Few Indian got abusive and rude out of excitement which was not called for. All I did was to smile  and wished good bye. All I cared about was we won again and we will again. However, right in the middle of this drama, I noticed something that hold me back. That made me think about the impact of our acts. I saw a little girl, aged 5-8 looking at all of us. We were about 50-100 Indians at the edge Indian Fanzone. She looked confused and angry at the same time. I bet she had no clue about cricket. All she knew was that all the greens are loosing and so is she as she was wearing a green t-shirt. Her parents seemed to be much sophisticated and they did clap when India got one wicket. While we were there she did ask he dad something pointing at us and her father said something in her ear.  Her reaction didn’t change as she was still confused. To my thinking and I wish her father told to avoid us. As one more wicket was gone, the cheering got louder and louder and Indians were about to taste history. Her parents now started packing up as it was next to impossible for Pakistan to get the game. She continued looking at the whole Indian fan zone and I so curious to know to know what was she thinking about. So her confusion turned to angry and I thought soon that angry will turn in to hatred. I stepped back. I walked my way back to my seat grabbing Shaily along. She asked me why and I said that I am feeling very tired. Walking back to the seat, I thought what were doing to that little girl is no different than what India and Pakistan has being doing to each other since independence. I can’t stand to be the part of that group that was feeding hatred into her. I cant stop thinking about that girl. I so wanted to know what her father told her about us. What we were doing was right but actually was way to much for just wining a game. But again, India winning against Pakistan is just winning its way more than winning.

The rivalry between two countries for cricket is surely something that will never go unnoticed and trust me, no other event on the face of the earth can bring Indians and Pakistanis together but cricket and if this possible, why not we try to brush our flaws and bring something better out of this. I was angry the fellow you wiped his hands with Indian flag, I was disappointed with the fellow Pakistanis who disrespected Indian National Anthem but somehow we all together are not understanding the basics of humanity. We all can argue on how politics dominates a sport like cricket on both ends but he have a brain and a heart that drives our desires, let focus both towards betterment of this world and the issues we are facing between two nations. Their are documented differences between these two nations and he past is painful but we need to heal, heal for the future of the next generation, for the future of the brains and heart we are feeding now.

How? is the question, Well, as one the greatest ancient scholar of India, VivekAnand said ‘Change the subject, the object is bound to change. Change yourself first, the world is bound to change.’ We all need to empower love and friendship, swap the words from hate to love, pick our mistakes first before pointing others and also to forgive. It is hard, but once you can do this, you have achieved wisdom and you are worth of the education you have acquired.

…. and for cricket and every other sport, always remember, ‘An educated man enjoys the game more than his team, regardless winning or losing’

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