"Game Changers"

"Ain Ishq Mahi Wali Nehar Wagey

Kai Taryaan Karmaan Walarian

Ik Kojhian Vi Langh Paar Gayian

Khar Rondian Shaklaan Walarian 

Ik Sohnian Dey Mathey Bhag Nahi

Bahroun Laal Tey Androun Kalarian

Ghulam Farid Allah Karam Kerey

Aibaan Walarian Dey Mathey Lalariaan"

Hi everyone,

My admiration for and infatuation with people with a vision is something that's not in my control. I am amazed at how one can go out and solve problems of the world while I can't seem to figure out what goes on in my own head, let alone in my world!

Going through a full blown motherhood for almost 40 years (where I slept like an iguana with one eye open for the first 20) entitles me to be cynical about it but I won't! I believe children are genderless as far as their parents are concerned and that's the way it should be. You worry no less for a son than you do for a daughter, you pray no less for a daughter than you do for a son. To this day I do my best to find a switch in my brain that I can somehow turn off and stop worrying about my children, knowing very well that magical device is yet to be invented. 

 

However when daughters come in to our lives we are more protective, more concerned, more cautious, and always looking out to pick up thorns from the path they choose to walk on.You tell your daughters to be self assured, confident, kind, and compassionate. You tell them to fight life relentlessly, yet with dignity and grace, and always walk away from situations and relationships with their heads held high. The jury is still out on whether we have failed to emphasize that there is bound to be an institution on any path they take, an institution they require to enroll in, an institution that is already on shaky grounds; call it an institution of marriage if you please. 

Everything in life comes with a price but the price for freedom is at times too steep and pretty hard to afford. The very expensive gift called freedom that we give to our daughters is the gift no one else will. We have raised a generation of young ladies, or rather I should say, a generation of game changers who know what they want, when they want, and more so what they don't! Do not hold them in contempt if they haven't entered as yet the mental institution called a marriage. Look up to them as they are fighting life just as hard as our sons are. Give them a break, give them a pat on their backs, give them a du'a if you can, give them a standing ovation if you will, but do not give them an attitude as they will give it right back. 

I thought it was paramount for my daughters to have their father's hand on their heads, I thought it was crucial for my daughters to have their mother's shoulder to cry on. I stand corrected on both counts! More than the guidance and protection they need to have total faith in themselves and The One who created them. After all they are His creations, with innate vulnerabilities, with innate weaknesses and with innate strengths. 

He will take care of them, He will protect them, He will guide them, and He sure will provide for them. This is the promise He gave me when He gave me four daughters and this is the only promise I will hold Him to!

Although "mother knows best", there is someone up there who, with all His magnanimity, undoubtedly knows better!

Much love,

Shehla 

'Scene is On'

"Charhdey Suraj Dhaldey Waikhey

Bujjhey Deevey Baldey Waikhey 

Heerey Da Koi Mull Na Tarey

Khotey Sikkey Chaldey Waikhey"

Hi everyone,

I feel the need to get a pair of Kaleidoscopic glasses to see and appreciate the multi faceted forum that we call Facebook! I jumped on this band wagon five years ago; clearly there was no turning back and those five years of course should be counted in dog years!

It's a great way to communicate, and an even a greater way to accelerate one's narcissistic tendencies. It's a great way to be surrounded by hundreds while alone, and an even greater way to be alone while surrounded by hundreds: The choice is yours!

I have a very weird and somewhat cynical relationship with this nexus of a platform. Like any other relationship it gives you back what you invest in it or more so what you need to find in it and are so desperate for! It gives you really good friends you haven't met and probably never will, it gives you enemies that you perhaps wouldn't dare make in person, it lends you an opportunity to rub elbows with intellectuals you would otherwise never cross paths with. 

I acknowledge the power of social media before I admit the need of human contact. I acknowledge the power of the give and take of a social relationship before I dare enter one. I personally have fought battles on this platform which I needed to, settled some scores which I had to, mended a few much needed relationships that I wanted to, and sharpened my dull and rusty mind which I opted to. 

It has raised the bar quite high as far as the threshold of tolerance is concerned. You learn to dodge bullets, so to speak, you tolerate what you thought you never would, you write words that you never knew you knew, you inhale the compliments and learn to take criticism with a grain of salt.  

Although with me it started as a simple tool to stay in touch with my family back home, I discovered that the world of Facebook is much deeper than I thought it was. You learn to swim with the sharks, you learn to stay afloat, you learn to create illusions, you learn to pull a Houdini, and you most definitely find finds while looking to be found. 

However there are  quite a few catches to this forum as well. It exposes you to the chosen few in way too many ways, it exposes your disabilities as well as your abilities, it exposes your self-inflated IQ in a couple of interactions, it favors you by exposing you to your own self. What this forum has most of all though is the ability to brutally put you in your place and humble you down. 

Now it's a staple and fun activity of my daily routine. I would hate to admit it but at times I remind myself of a phenomenal busybody from any given neighborhood, on any given day, who gets up each  morning, goes around in the neighborhood, feels no need to knock, nor for an invitation, gets tidbits of gossip from each household and then goes on to have a field day. 

Once I learned to play this game right, once I started to see beyond myself, once I let go of my ego and swallowed my pride, once I checked in my shrewdness, once I learned to manage my sensitivities, I for one discovered on this platform many intellectual minds, many fragile hearts, many pure souls and plenty of vulnerability and humanity to go around!

At the end of each day, one's diligence and earnest effort to stay connected with one's world is what it's all about!

Much love,

Shehla

"Home Court Advantage"

"Dasht-e-tanhai Mein

Ay Janay Jahan Larzaan Hein

Teri Awaz Key Sayey

Teray Hoton Key Saraab

Dasht-e- tanhai Mein

Doori Key Khaso Khaak Talay

Khil Rahay Hain Teri Pehloo Key Saman

Aur Gulab"

Hi everyone,

I was never a good photographer and never will be but iPhones these days have made taking photos so easy and foolproof that I often indulge in this aimless activity. I love to take photos in the beginning of a new season, right when it attempts to come in through the windows of my house. In the midst of last Fall, one late evening, I walked up to my kitchen window and took a few photographs before Fall got infatuated with and consequently consumed by the winter. 

Last month when I started to take pictures of Spring flowers, I went back to look at my 'Fall collection' (no pun intended). The picture I attached is the one that grabbed me instantaneously. In the bottom two panes you see the Fall leaves on the grass, in the top two panes you see the reflection of the kitchen and family room balcony. There are trees outside surrounding the light fixture reflection which is hanging inside. 

Like a perplexed person I kept staring at it and couldn't figure out how it happened. There has to be a scientific reason behind it, but who cares about the scientific or logical explanations; I saw what I saw! And what I saw was what was outside coming at and magically blending in with what was inside and creating such a dramatic image that it was hard to tell what was where. 

Although it could be as simple as your inward intention coming together with your outward behavior and creating a deed, it shouldn't be as simple as that. I see it as two worlds colliding while collaborating. Was it what was out there was inside or what was inside was out there? Soon enough, who I am inside had a head on collision with the person I am outside!

Although the journey that I took inside me should matter more than the journey I took outside, sadly it doesn't! The middle aged woman who gets up each morning to do good as well as bad in this world is much more noticeable than the woman who is inside her, living and breathing, kicking and screaming, crying and laughing. She is more noticeable not because she is visible but because she's the one who is better at the recursive process of collaboration. More importantly, she is the one with the home court advantage and the one who executes that prerogative brilliantly and is credited every time! 

At times both these women roll their eyes at each other, are condescending towards each other, criticize one another, try their best to harness the other, and play havoc with each other. But at the end of the day they are left with no choice but to collaborate to contemplate a fight to be given to life. 

I can be a self proclaimed advocate for anything I believe in this world, and I believe in collaboration. Every step that I have taken to this day has been a collaboration of my heart, my mind, and my soul and I wouldn't have it any other way. Your heart tells you to follow it blindly, as your mind dictates reason, while your soul kicks in, in time to be taken into account, and determines the best approach to solve or resolve. What I saw in my window last fall was not just a mere reflection of what was outside and what was inside, it was a reflection of my outer self, and it had the potential to be a life lesson, if you will, to lead a life weaved with the thread of collaboration. 

Every time I look at this enchanting capture, I dare to pick up the Fall leaves from the grass with a tremble in my hands. I implore the sky to come into my kitchen while peeking through the tall trees. I try to drag light fixtures and balcony railings outside and each time I fail. Perhaps, like many other things in my life, it was meant to happen only once!

Much love,

Shehla

"The Perfect Shade"

"Hum Teri Yaad Se Katra Ke Guzar Jate Magar, 

Raah Mein Phoolon Ke Lab

Saayon Ke Gesu Aaye

Rang Baatein Karein Aur Baaton Se Khushboo Aaye

Dard Phoolon Ki Tarah Mehkey Agar Tu Aaye"

Hi everyone,

On the risk of sounding pretty shallow and quite superficial I am going to admit that the thing I adore right after my immediate family and friends is a tube of lipstick. It falls right before a cup of freshly brewed tea and not far off from a smile of my child. I have been romancing the shade of lipstick that is yet to be found (sadly not quite as adventurously as Kathleen Turner and Michael Douglas romanced The Stone). I have been chasing the perfect shade all through my adult life. 

It can be a drugstore brand priced at only $2.99, or a French brand from a fancy schmancy store, costing me my arm and my husband's leg. The kick is the same; with different price tags but nevertheless priceless! A tube of lipstick has an absolute power to turn an ordinary day, from my very generic life, into an extraordinary day. There is nothing a cup of tea or a tube of lipstick won't cure as far as my down days are concerned.  

Last month I went hunting for the perfect shade with two of my daughters. Standing at a makeup counter trying on different shades on the back of my hand is when I am the happiest as a woman. The three of us tried same shade, but it looked different on all of us. The sales girl's explanation is always that it's due to the difference in the pigmentation of our lips. I believe a tube of lipstick is more intelligent and thoughtful than that. Red lipstick is going to be red on everyone, but it's going to pick up on the essence of the lady who is wearing it and adapt to her soul just like a great fragrance or a good friend does!

I spent a day thinking about why a tube of color holds so much power over me. The obvious answer would be that I let it! But why not go for less obvious ones? Perhaps it makes me feel like a celebrity who is chased by paparazzi, perhaps it takes me to exotic islands where I have never been and for sure never will go, perhaps it takes my mind off my problems that I can't seem to solve, perhaps it takes me by hand and walks me towards escapism. It undoubtedly supports my denials with great panache and in stunning shades. 

It seems as all the colors from my desires, from my aspirations, and from my unfulfilled dreams have melted down into a tube of lipstick. Although I don't have that many hues in my personality, a tube of lipstick has stolen so many shades from me. I look at a new color from a new collection and think in my silly little head that it was only made for me. That's how this product of less than an ounce gets me and carries so much weight in my life. 

Having chiseled features, luscious lips, and expressive eyes (which are a paradigm of female beauty), might not be every woman's dream but it sure was mine. I am very well aware of the harsh fact that all mentioned above are God given, but a tube of lipstick is like a loyal friend that always keeps you in hope and abounds you with a promise of looking beautiful. And for that exuberance, at times I am tempted to pay even more than what it costs.  

I eagerly await any new line that comes out with new spring/summer/fall shades as I do for any of the four seasons. My daughters know of my indulgence and try to outdo each other in keeping me updated as well as educated about new formulas. 

To this day the pursuit for the perfect shade blended in with the right formula is on! This most harmless chase takes me places which might not even exist, at least not outside my head. The scarlet red takes me back to the day I got married, mod pink kicks in nostalgia from 70s, (the decade that belonged to me) poppy coral takes me on a one way flight to the Bahamas, ominous burgundy gives such a boost to my esteem and my confidence that for some odd reason no one messes with me the day I have it on. And the ultimate fuschia dictates, defines, as well as determines my femininity. 

I always tend to shop for a lifestyle that I certainly don't have. Since a lipstick here and there is not a huge bank breaking investment, it can easily be justified as one of the greatest pick me ups man invented for woman. The unfounded shade has been playing hard to get all through my life and I certainly don't mind this chase. My good friend asked me recently, what will I do if I find the perfect shade. I replied, "I have no intention of finding one or else I would have found it by now!".

Much love,

Shehla

"Unconditional"

"Teri Raushni Meri Khado-Khaal 

Se Mukhtalif Tou Nahee Magar

Tu Qareeb Aa Tujhe Dekh Loon 

Tu Wohi Hai Ya Koi Aur Hai

Sar-a-aaena Mera Aks Hai

Pass-a-aaena Koi Aur Hai"

Hi everyone,

Being painfully punctual throughout my life cheated me of the pleasure one gets from being fashionably late! I love going to dinner parties as overdressed as I can. I don't know where I got this notion in my head that it shows respect and honor to the hostess if I am all decked out for her occasion. 

We were invited to a small dinner locally and as always I was rushing in getting ready. My speed could only be justified if they were handing out prizes at the door for the very first five who entered. I looked at myself in the mirror for one last time to see if I was forgetting anything (not that I ever do), and if everything was intact. For a moment I thought I was looking at my mother.

That image startled me. Seeing her when I looked at myself was so surreal that I  panicked. I sat on my bed, closed my eyes out of sheer fear and wondered what happened. With little knowledge of human psychology, I am aware of the fact that sometimes we see what we want to see. 

Although to this day I have allocated my time, my energies, and my resources to the needs of my children just like my mother did to mine, the connection between a mother and her child boggles my mind. It's so real, yet so mystical, and my brain and my thought process never fail in failing me when I try to somehow contain it in my words. 

In my experience the only need that increases with time is a child's need for his mother. The time we start to think we need our mother perhaps not as much, is actually the time we need her the most. This need and one's vulnerability to all he can be vulnerable to synchronizes all through one's life. The need for your mother has countless faces and every face is as kind and as compassionate as a mother's face, and as needy and as desperate as a child's state of mind. 

Perhaps, she is the biggest forgiving entity God has created, perhaps she is endowed with the kindest heart as far as her children are concerned, perhaps she is blessed with eyes in which her children don't do any wrong, perhaps she chose to be the sacrificial lamb as well as the scapegoat on any given day. Despite all of which she gives to and gives up for her children, we are wrong in thinking that her love is unconditional. Actually it's the most conditional and most authoritative love you might experience in your lifetime. 

She expects respect, she demands honor, she asks to be loved in return and relishes to be cherished and to be missed, and the mother of all, she wants you to stay out of harm's way until the day she dies. She shapes her child the way her heart pleases, she doesn't cut the umbilical cord until she is ready. She expects him to fulfill her unfulfilled dreams, she claims a big chunk of her child's soul and resides in his heart like a queen even if she isn't around anymore. And that's the biggest card she plays!

The inner child in me at the age of 58 realizes and admits her need for her mother more than ever. My mother left my world almost three decades ago and it's high time that I start seeing her in the mirror instead of myself!

Much love,

Shehla 

"Side View Mirror"

"Makke Gayon Gal Mukdi naahi

Sau Sau Hajj Kar Aaiye

Ganga Gayon Gal Mukdi Naahi

Sau Sau Ghotay Khaaiye

Bulleh Shah Gal Taaiyon Mukdi

Main Nu Dilon Ganwaaiye

Chal Bulleya Chal Othe Chalye Jithe Sare Anney

Na Koi Saadi Zaat Pachhaane

Na Koi Saanu Manney"

Hi everyone,

I never considered driving a chore, I actually always thought of it as a 'get away' even if it was to my local Walmart. You give me an automobile that can hold enough gas to drive to the moon, and I'll probably end up there. My passion for driving suits my husband and my children very well as I am always at their beck and call as far as pick 'n drop is concerned. 

A couple of weeks ago we were going to pick up a relative from the John F. Kennedy airport. My son offered to drive so I sat in the passenger seat. Since I am always in the driver's seat, sitting in another seat was very awkward as I don't see myself there very often. I didn't know what to do with my hands so I put them to some good use and started texting my friends and my children. I exhausted Facebook, took a virtual tour of quite a few online store sites, made my grocery list for the whole month, picked a date and planned my next dinner party. Then I went on to contemplating an innovative strategy to get some money out of my husband and the mother of all, how to lay a guilt trip on my kids to get them home. 

After an hour of driving, we were approaching a beautiful sunset and the magnificent Verrazano Bridge simultaneously, with a killer view of the Atlantic Ocean in front of us. I've been to this particular spot numerous times but since I was always rushing, busy wrestling, and at times even dodging the notorious traffic of New York, I couldn't absorb the wonders of nature in abundance around me. I kept on photographing every angle as the ramp was winding at 360 degrees. 

As soon as I got bored of this, I quickly put my thinking cap on and took a leap of faith into some soul searching as I know I would always find something there. For the first time I realized that being in the driver's seat all through my life, I missed out on so many phenomenons that I could have observed, so many revelations I could have made only to myself. 

'Objects in mirror are closer than they appear' is what I have seen many times written on my side view mirror and very well know what it means! This time I read it without my hands on the steering wheel and figured out that it had even a deeper meaning to it than appeared! Dangers, insincerities, pitfalls, vulnerabilities, insecurities, adversities, and enemies are always closer than they appear. This is the very reason we are caught off guard when these atrocities come at us with all their viciousness. I considered myself warned and imprinted these words on the very corner of my brain that controls my susceptibilities and my idiosyncrasies. 

Although we are always told to look ahead and that it's a very practical way to live, keeping an eye on what's behind us is crucial as well. What's behind us is very well going to determine what's ahead of us. Perhaps we need a small square of reflective glass called the 'side view mirror' to see what’s behind us when we are in the driver seats of our lives. Peripheral vision is not sufficient to lead a life with no blind spots. Since whatever objects I saw in this mirror were in great perspective, it helped me look at some pertaining issues which were on my mind with different perspectives. 

Next time I go on a long road trip, I intend to jump in the back seat. I might be able to solve the energy crisis by the time I get back. If not the whole world's, at least of my own household. Taking a back seat in life is considered neither fun nor easy but might not be as bad as we think. We are so afraid to lose control over matters which we usually don't have to begin with. Leading an immensely subtle life might be the best thing happening to me. If I let go of the steering wheel, so to speak, I might even start to think big thoughts while still have the ability to relish small pleasures. 

With hindsight, I should never have been behind the wheel!

Much love,

Shehla

"Irony"

                   "Sappan Dey Puttar Mittar Na Hondey Bhawein Chullian Dudh Piyaey

                       Gai Jawani Feir Nahin Aandi Bhawain Lakh Khurakaan Khaiyey"

Hi everyone,

I found myself standing at a jewelry counter way too many times before I realized I had a problem! I was only in my mid-twenties, a mother of three children, and I would somehow find the time to go to my favorite local jewelry store. 

During one of those aimless/harmless trips while drooling over the most beautiful diamond ring, the saleswoman threw me her pitch: "Oh this is a beautiful piece! Why don't you get it? It will look beautiful on your long fingers." I smiled and sighed simultaneously and said, "I wish I could but I can't afford it." 

Our dialogue caught the attention of a much older lady who was there to do some serious shopping. The lady said to me, "When I had young hands, beautiful fingers, and a desire to own beautiful jewelry, I couldn't afford a ring like this. Now, when I can easily afford it and still have a love for jewelry, my hands are old and wrinkled and my fingers are too swollen to wear a piece like this. That, my dear, is one of the ironies of life!" I nodded my head, gave her a smile loaded with empathy, but didn't quite get what she was saying.

I didn't realize at the time how circular this paradox can be!

Putting a positive twist on anything negative that comes my way is not only a passion of mine, it's a philosophy that rules and runs my life beautifully. I had to find something good in this particular irony of life. 

What I have found is that knowledge has to be time-released and stapled with some experience or it's somewhat wasted. Although the knowledge that you seek all through your life stops you from executing your life on ad hoc basis, it teaches you to pay heed to the deafening silences that you may come across at times following your naive outbreaks. It also holds you back from embracing your oxymoronic tendencies; it's not fully absorbed if you get it prematurely. 

The kind of irony that I encountered at that jewelry counter so many years ago is the kind that can keep you in hope, the kind that keeps you going. It's the kind of irony that can take you as far in life as you let it, as sometimes it's better if you don't know what life has in store for you until it's too late. Until then you play the hand you are dealt!

A few years back standing at the same jewelry counter, where I was the much older woman this time around, (ironically I got to that point at the speed of lightning) I spotted a young girl trying on a stunning bracelet while listening to the saleswoman's pitch. Her sighing and admitting that she couldn't afford it was temptation enough for me to jump in their conversation with the "great irony"under my belt, but I didn't. Rather, I wanted that young mind to find out on her own, in due time, what she has at this time is much more precious than a piece of jewelry. 

I believe that, so to speak, irony is behind a lot of successful human relationships; particularly the  mother of all relationships: Marriage. By the time one realizes that it's not an ideal situation it's already too late, as one has gone quite deep into the biggest investment of his/her life and then decides to try harder to make it work. In most cases things turn around and work out beautifully.    

Irony is not a bad word after all!

Much love,

Shehla

"Hajj 2014"

                                                
                           

                                     (Overlooking the Ka'aba during my pilgrimage)

                                                  "Yeh zamin jab na thi
                                                 Yeh jahaan jab na thaa
                                Chand suraj na they Aasmaan jab na thaa
                                Raaz-e-haq bhii kisi par Ayaan jab na thaa
                                             Jab na thaa kuch yahaan
                                              Thaa magar tuu hi tu

                                          Allah hu Allah hu Allah hu
                                          Allah hu Allah hu Allah hu"

The pilgrimage doesn't start the day you embark on your journey to Mecca, it starts the day you are old enough to know you are a Muslim, the day you see an image of Ka'aba on a piece of paper and can never shake it off, the day you realize and admit the power of supplication and moreso your need for it!

I took off on Saudi Airlines along with my son and daughter-in-law, leaving my whole world filled with my worldly belongings and overwhelming responsibilities behind to render my submission to my Creator, to thank Him for what he has given me, to ask for His forgiveness and for much much more.

Although your air carrier allows you plenty of luggage to take, it doesn't seem enough for the kind of baggage you are bringing along. You are carrying your sins, your repentances, your griefs, your losses, your shames, your scars, your shortcomings, your indulgences, your shikwas, and above all your modesty and  humility and all that is to be carried on your shoulders. You get there so tired with swollen feet, not from the 15 hour flight that you took, but from the back breaking load you have been carrying all through your life.

Standing in Haram facing the Ka'aba you fall apart, feel weak in your knees, try your best to stand upright while your whole flawed life flashes in front of your eyes. You don't have the heart or even courage to face his 'Jalal' along with millions of Muslims from all over the world and it is the most humbling moment to experience.

My 'Jholi' was so full with his blessings yet so empty since I always seem to want much more than He gives. I ask only Him as He tells me to ask only Him and I marvel at how His benevolence surpasses all my needs and all my wants and as He gives me much more than I ask for.

During my journey I needed to connect with the Almighty Allah like I never did or could before and the real connection I felt was during my sleepless nights. I would lay in my bed awake almost all night, crying with overwhelming repentances, praying for forgiveness, contemplating my future, asking for His guidance, begging for way too many things for my children, and pleading my case like no other can.

To see your inward act of intentions and your outward act of a journey come together beautifully, to see the processions of millions of relentless

Hajis, to see the solidarity of Muslims from each and every corner of the world is mind blowing and leaves you pretty shaken up!

Although I come back to my world filled with my worldly belongings and responsibilities, the countless tears I shed on the day of Arafat still have my eyes wet!

Much Love, 

Shehla 

"NIRVANA"

'Na Main Momin Vich Maseetaan

Na Main Vich Kufar Diyan Reetaan

Na Main Paakaan Vich Paleetaan

Na Main Moosa Na Firown

Bulleya Ki Jaana Main kaun'

Hi everyone,

Since I am from Punjab, the rice dish I grew up on is Pulao. I was introduced to Biryani much later in life and befriended it instantaneously. If you give me a plate of biryani and a bowl of vanilla ice cream, you can be eligible to ask for my kidney in return. 

Every time I go to a dinner party, I hope to be sent home with a small Tupperware  filled with leftovers of my favorite rice, given the hostess is gracious enough. 

 

A few weeks ago, I stumbled upon an extra gracious hostess who made me a small container of leftover Biryani to take home. The next day I started to eat it for lunch. I relished, or rather, inhaled the first few bites and thanked Allah for giving me such a generous friend. I even did du'a for her and every other person who was remotely related to her. 

  

I took few more bites and wondered why God is so good to me. After almost being done with it, while quite full as well, I forced myself to eat the last two spoonfuls just for the sake of finishing it. I noticed that there was a remarkable difference in taste from my first bite to the last spoonful as the last bite didn't taste nearly as good as the first one. 

Same food, same me, and same taste buds but drastic difference of taste!

It was very puzzling and was a sure call for Excedrin as I needed to connect the dots of life in my head before I could say 'what a paradox'!

Was my appetite, and my relish for it what added taste to it?

Do I have such power?

Is a relationship only priceless to me because I am paying way too much of a  price for it?

Is my chase of gold like a crazed person giving worth to it or is it  just a metal?

To me this was a 'nukta' that had the capability to unfold one of life's biggest mystery to me:

Why we own more than we need or will ever be able to use or even handle. It could be an expensive piece of jewelry  or a much sought after relationship. Most of our possessions stop giving us pleasure the moment they come in our possession. I didn't need to finish the whole damn plate of Biryani just because I loved it. 

The inner power that I have is totally nullified by my acquisitiveness. I don't need to oversimplify the connection between my inner strength and my indulgence of a weakness as it is simple enough. The taste that vanished from my food perhaps was never there to begin with!

Much love, 

Shehla

   

"I Wonder....."

Hi Everyone,

"Alif Allah Chambay Di Booti Tey Meray Murshid Mann Vich Lai Hoo

Ho Naïf Uss Baat Da Paani Dey Kay

Har Ragaay Harjai Hoo

Ho Joog Joog Jeevay Mera Murshid Sohna

Hatay Jiss Ay Booti Lai Ho"

I wonder why the walls we build around us end up being taller than the ones society does. 

I wonder why  the sky is the limit. 

I wonder why our lives are counted in years and not by the steps we take. 

I wonder why a door has to close for a new one to open.

I wonder why life takes its own sweet time to unfold its mysteries. 

I wonder why human relationships are much more complex than a human mind. 

I wonder why I am losing my looks and my mind simultaneously. 

I wonder why Angelina and Brad aren't married yet. 

I wonder why I started walking toward the end the moment I took my first steps.

I wonder why my gloves had to take fifty years to come off.  

I wonder why I don't recognize myself in the mirror anymore. 

I wonder why I  have to come at life with everything I acquired, innate, and then some...just to survive. 

I wonder why I had to lose my parents and why my children will have to lose theirs. 

I wonder why I spent half my life noticing things that I shouldn't have. 

I wonder why I feel the pain of my children before they feel it themselves. 

I wonder why I stopped looking up to people. 

I wonder why people stop taking you for granted the minute you start taking them for granted. 

I wonder why my heart has to be my Achilles' heel. 

I wonder why coffee is an acquired addiction. 

I wonder why my mind is going places where I thought it could never go. 

I wonder why God is so good to me. 

I wonder why I had to face the dichotomy of two cultures and then throw my children into it. 

I wonder why I am supposed to act as a good old grandmother when my grandkids are around. 

I wonder why life gets you when you are not looking. 

I wonder why humanity is being slaughtered by humans. 

I wonder why it takes so long to catch up to the philosophy of 'Catch 22'. 

I wonder why no one can beat us in the game of life like we beat ourselves.

I wonder why I thought for the longest time that I was just a pawn, when I was the whole game of chess. 

I wonder why you have to let go of your children to bring them back. 

I wonder why someone had to come up with the concept of daylight savings. 

I wonder why culture has the ability to surpass religion. 

I wonder why denials get you through life like nothing else can. 

I wonder why my bones don't agree with the notion that age is just a number.

I wonder why I run out of my prerogatives before I do of my fingers. 

I wonder why it's so hard to hold out the olive branch for my gender. 

I wonder why man proposes if God disposes. 

I wonder why marriage is called a gamble and not a calamity. 

I wonder why I didn't get a chance to say proper goodbyes to my parents. 

I wonder why we don't grow up until our parents die. 

Much Love,

Shehla