Cursed

After the continuous yelling of the mother, the environment was lit up by the cry of the newborn.
"What is it?" asked Jacob as he stormed into the room.
"A girl," the attendant replied.
"A girl? What did you just say? Is it a girl, Sarah?"
"Yes, my master."
"Oh my Lord! Why have you forsaken me? Is this the outcome of our prayers that you give us a vile creature as our first child?" Jacob looked up and shouted.
"But at least have a look at the girl. She's so beautiful." Sarah requested.
"Not for a mountain of gold will I have a look at her .... Nevertheless, what's done cannot be undone. All we can do right now is get rid of this curse as soon as possible. Go and throw her into the fire before the people become aware of this calamity that has hit us."
“By the maker of heavens and Earth, don't do this to me. It's my first child. For God's sake, have a look at the child.”
Jacob came near Sarah with signs of anger and disgust clearly visible on his face. As he looked at the girl, his facial expression changed. The little creature looked at him with bright eyes and moved her hands as if she were saying, "Take me up, father. I am your very own child."
Jacob also got an impulse to hold the child in his arms but he reined in his emotions. The stern feeling of disgust was however softened by a single look at the child.
"Alright, if you want you can keep the child alive but mind it, no one in the village should know that we had a baby girl. Tell everyone that we buried her alive."
"Yes, my Lord. And thank you."
The girl was named Rebecca by her mother.
She lived happily, away from the public eye. Jacob also developed affection for the child and brought her toys and eatables every now and then.
Five years passed and Rebecca grew up inside the walls of her house. She was rebuked whenever she even thought of going outside.
"You know Sarah, I am scared of one thing always." Jacob said.
"And what is that, my Lord?"
"As you know our law does not allow us to have a girl as the first-born. What if some day the judges of the village come to know about this dual crime of ours?"
"I too am afraid of the same but let's not lose faith in God."
One day Jacob left home early while Rebecca was asleep. Sarah went to have a bath without bothering to shut the gate. Rebecca got up and seeing no one near herself she went outside the room. Seeing that her mother was in the bathroom and the gate was open she went outside to quench her curiosity of the outside world.
"Who are you girl? I've never seen you in the village." a passer-by inquired.
"Yes I don't come out. I am Jacob's daughter." the child replied innocently.
"Jacob's daughter?" the passer-by wondered and went away.
In the evening a messenger came at Jacob's place.
"Jacob, you have been summoned by the judge tomorrow morning."
"Me? Why? What crime have I done?"
"I am not aware of the details. You'll know them tomorrow."
Jacob could not sleep the entire night. He knew what his crime was but what troubled him was how the judge came to know about his daughter.
~ Next Day ~
"Jacob, you have been found guilty of having a girl as the first-born and then concealing it from the people. Do you have anything to say in your defense?"
"No, my Lord."
"The punishment for you is that you'll throw that cursed creature into the well tomorrow and get rid of her but if you fail to do so your entire family will be executed."
Jacob passed the entire night weeping and wondering about the events of the next day.
Next day Sarah dressed up Rebecca in her best clothes.
"Where am I going today, Mum?" she asked.
"Your father will take you out for a camel ride today," Sarah replied with teary eyes.
"Wow, that'd be so cool."
Jacob took her outside on the camel.
"Wow father! This feels so good."
"Y..yes my child."
"Why are you sad, father?"
"To tell you the truth my child, the village folks have ordered me to kill you or they will kill us all."
"Kill me? But what have I done, father?"
"Because you're a girl, my love."
"I love you and Mum. If taking my life can save you then I would love to die."
On hearing this Jacob started weeping.
Jacob placed her over the well. The child was strong but was a child after all. Horror was evident on her face. Jacob looked at her fear stricken face. Her eyes were pleading but she did not utter a word. Jacob closed her eyes tightly and pushed her.
"Faatherr...!" she cried and caught hold of the rope.
Jacob opened his eyes and pulled the rope hurriedly. He held her up in his arms, raised his sword and headed towards the village to fight for the life of his child.

Welcome to IIT

Main Building, IIT Roorkee

So you've cracked JEE and are about to get into one of the ‘prestigious’ IITs? 

Are you excited? 

Ah. Stupid me! Definitely you are. Why shouldn’t one be? After all you are one of the few thousand people who have sailed past the remaining 12 lac people.  Though you may mark this achievement as a milestone in your life’s diary you should know that this is not the end of the road. Interestingly, it is not the beginning either. You are just about to cross the START mark. 

Bottom line — you know nothing. And by nothing I mean — NOTHING!

Before I continue I must make you aware of the fact that this write-up is not meant to demoralize you, it is in fact meant to motivate you to such an extent that you start imagining your name with one of the greats and not just as an EMPLOYEE NUMBER 5421 at Facebook or Google. Don’t get me wrong though, this is one of the best things you can achieve in life but can you do better? Yes, you can.

Soon you’ll get on, high, with the life of IIT. You will not feel that cool about being an IITian inside an IIT as you’ll feel outside. “Oh Man! You’re from IIT?” — People will react like they have just seen an alien. They will assert your super ‘intelligence’ even before talking to you but know that the same ‘intelligence’ will decay faster than Ununoctium once you get inside an IIT. 

You will get along with cool stuff like night-outs, night long gaming, partying, trips, bunks etc. and I advise you to enjoy all of these because you may never get time or you will never enjoy them as much in your life ahead. I don’t want you to be one of those people who’ll sit on a bench in their old age and think — ‘Yaar, kaash woh trip pe chala jaata!’ (How I wish I could have gone on that trip!)

I don’t want you to be one of those people who after a year or two at IIT smile at everyone who says — “Teri job toh mast lagegi” (You’ll get an awesome job) — but deep inside they know that they haven’t learnt anything after they got into IIT. I don’t want you to sit on a high-paying job and regret — Yaar, kuch gain nahi kiya IIT mein (I have gained no knowledge while being at IIT). 

 You will meet all kinds of people in IIT –

a) The one who will study for the sake of learning.
b) The one who will study for the sake of CGPA.
c) The one who will not study.
d) The one who will have more knowledge of your field of study than you.
e) The self-enthusiast.
f) The sports-keeda.
g) The gamer.
h) The musician, the dancer and the list goes on.

You will meet different kinds of teachers too –

a) The teach-nothing type.
b) The super-cool type.
c) The knowledge-lover type.
d) The weird depressed-of-life type.

One thing that you’ll experience for sure is that there will be more number of people running after placements and marks than there will be people running after knowledge. I want you to be of the second category. 

Remember at the beginning I told you that you know nothing? So, how do you start?

Start small; you don’t make an OS on day one. When you’ll taste from the ocean of knowledge you’ll realize even more that you know nothing.

It is more like — the more you know, the more you realize you don’t know.

I advise you to keep two things in your mind, always –

1. Every new thing, however small, you learn makes you better than thousands of people on this planet.
2. However much you have learnt, know that there are still people smarter and more knowledgeable than you.

 I advise you not to run after money or placements. When an almost illiterate person dealing in scrap will earn more than you, that day I will ask you, ‘What is the use of your knowledge and smartness?’ and I bet you won’t be able to answer.

Gain knowledge & Innovate.

Perhaps you will not be able to earn a crore per annum that way but in your old age when your name, your research, your innovation will be held with the greats of past, that smile, that smile on your face can never be purchased by any amount of money. The day you’ll see your nation rise, you will smile.

Collaborate.

Love thy classmates and collaborate with them to design and invent stuff. Competition? I am sure you’ve left it with your JEE result. Or are you still in a competition for salary? What are you actually living for then? Think.

Can we have a silicon valley in India? Can we bring our IITs near MIT in innovation, knowledge and brilliance? 

Yes, we can. You can.

Change

Where is the change sometimes I wonder
All looks the same like the valiant sun yonder
It still burns and gives its rays
Softening our hearts and lighting our ways
The moon still shines and follows its course
It's we who've put ourselves behind locked doors
Upon these parts whenever I ponder
Where's the change they make me wonder
The colorful birds sitting on the trees above
Still sing the melodies of pain and love
The rainbow still shines after the rain
It's we who've flushed the happiness into drains
There's still vigor in the flight of butterflies
Alas! We've chosen to shut our eyes
Much beauty lies in the blue bolts of thunder
Where is the change sometimes I wonder

Hate

In this busy world of hate
They leave the commoner to fate
In this deck of cards they're the ace
When resisted they ask, "Which race?"

They ignite fires with flames unto skies
For their music are the innocent cries
They've flown rivers of blood longer than Nile
Rivers which can even turn a desert fertile

They kill woman and child with ease
When asked they say, "Preparing for peace."
You need your own hands for this fight
Because the real world has no dark knight

Fate

It has been four years since you were taken away from me by the cruelty of fate. I still remember your beautiful face when you smiled in that orange dress. The tears flowing from my eyes still wish that they could stop to see you smile, to challenge the brightness of the sun, to put the winter drizzles to shame but Alas! you're gone, far beyond the realms of my world. While I run in this wilderness laden with the falling snow flakes I appear cold and numb but inside I can feel the warmth of your blazing love. You'll never know how lonely I am left without you. Yet again I want to hold you, to hold you and cry out my pain on your shoulders, to hear your heart beat for me, to hold your hand tight but all's vanished, vanished like the vapours in air.

I've never seen any sunrises or sunsets after your left... it seems everything has just, just stopped happening. Sometimes everything is so blindingly bright that I am unable to open my eyes while at other times it's all darkness, darkness encompassing everything, far and wide. I don't like anything here. I want to be united with you for eternity.

Every year on this very day I look up to see your face and I see you, I...I see your rosy cheeks have turned pale and your eyes swollen. You've also cried time and again since then. I want to wipe off the drops from your face and tell you to stop crying, tell you that one day we will meet, again. But I hate it when I can't touch your face. It seems I've lost all my strength to even raise my hands up to your face.

You put a red rose at my grave and burst into more tears. Then you run away and leave me, leave me to sleep and wait for another year.

Unto Perfection

If you are not better than what you were yesterday you have wasted a precious, precious day of your life. What do you wish for? What do you yearn for? What do you anticipate to reach? Do you wish for fame, popularity and fortune? Do you wish for wealth, to show off or to probably buy an island of your own one day? If this is what you are yearning for and longing for then my brother or sister, you have been deceived, you have been deceived by the glitter of this world. You are still standing confused about what to do with your life.

Look at the person next to you. What makes you better than him? You may be a student in a class of hundred. What do you think makes you better than the other 99? And for God's sake don't tell me, marks. At the end of the day almost 90 of you will graduate from the institution and most of you will get a job but the question stands, 'What makes you better than the other person?' What did you do for the world that the other person didn't? What knowledge gives you an edge over the other person?

What you need to do today is hunt for something, hunt for your passion. Search for the thing in life that you can dedicate yourself to. Time will pass and you'll get old but your love, your passion inside you will ripen and before you're mixed into the earth you'll either leave a beautiful piece of art behind you or you'll make the world a better place to live.

Don't just let this post scroll away. Think. Think about your love. What can you live and die for? This is what all great men do, don't they? But they were not born great and neither are you.

Tonight and all the following nights, ask yourself, 'What did I learn today and how am I better than what I was yesterday?'

Ah, by the way, Good Morning.
Awake, unto perfection.

Marooned

I see the bright white ball of fire turning red, visible to the naked eye. The change in the lighting tells me that another day from my life is about to come to an end. I don't know what time it is though, I've lost count of time. I still remember myself getting mad at my wrist watch when it stopped 20 days back. I hit the watch many times in a hope that it may start working magically. I think it may be 4 P.M. or wait, it can be 6 P.M. too. After all I don't really know in what part of the earth I am. I've stopped sensing cold or heat.

It has been three months or precisely 92 days since I was left on this island by the thunderstorm. I've kept a count of days in this little diary of mine. I don't have a mirror to look what exactly I look like after these many days but the blurred reflection in the ocean tells me that I don't look that smart now. Unshaven and in the same clothes for 92 days, I probably look like those people from the novels who were left alone on islands. Ah, how stupid of me! I myself am an owner of this undesired privilege now.

I've lived here on the water from the ocean, coconuts and a strange fruit of which I do not know the name. It looks like a poisonous little fruit and I had actually tried eating it one day to commit suicide but then I found that it was the most delicious thing I had eaten in years. Perhaps God didn't want me to die. I haven't tried to kill myself since then.

This is a well traveled trade route, each passing day I see hundreds of ships passing in these waters. I've tried to signal many but to no avail. Still, I shout and try to signal ships standing on this cliff nearby. Hope, you see, keeps things, relations and the broken-hearted alive.

Actually, it is not so bad down here. I've started loving this beauty of nature. It was nature herself though who left me here, marooned. I cannot say for good or worse though because all the other members of the crew are dead, perhaps. It is sometimes tough to judge between death and life.

There is something here which overpowers and breaks me down sometimes, this loneliness. It would have been beautiful had there been someone with me to share this life. I cry sometimes thinking about the girl from the town whom I loved. Then, I wipe my own tears...who else will, if not me?

I see a ship coming this way. It is the nearest I have ever seen. I'm going to try my luck once again.

I sign the page of my diary with my rank daily. I've never used or heard it in many days after all.

Captain Robert Miller.

The tragedies of life

It was the 9th of June, 2014. Me and my wife, Maryam, were coming back from a holiday in Switzerland. It was our first holiday after we got married two months back. Our minds were full of the beautiful moments we had spent in Switzerland. Finally, my dream of a happy family was shaping into reality. Our plane was about to land at the Karachi International Airport and we prepared ourselves to get off the plane.

The plane's wheels touched the runway and it came to a standstill in few minutes. We got off the plane and started moving towards the exit counter. I heard a loud sound which appeared to come from a gun. Suddenly a group of Airport staff came to us with shades of horror clearly visible on their faces.

"I am sorry sir but you people cannot make an exit from the airport right now. A group of terrorists have attacked this area. You'll have to come with us immediately!" an airport official said.

"Terrorists? What?" I inquired, trying to realize the situation we were in.

"Yes sir! The military has been called. Currently the airport security team is trying to combat."

They took all the passengers in a room nearby.

"Please don't try to get out of the room unless somebody comes to the rescue," they said and went away.

For the next few hours we could hear the sounds of gunfire and explosions. As every new explosion occurred the faces of the passengers shrank, with drops of sweat clearly visible on their foreheads as if they had seen the ghastly figure of death standing before them. Every single face in the room had the mixed expression of horror and hope on it.

"Will everything be fine?" Maryam asked while reciting some aayaats from the Qur'an.

"Yes, my love," I replied, trying to give her the hope which I myself was not confident of, but a word of support from another person is always a mountain of hope.

After few hours of horror the explosions seemed to have come to a halt. We thought that this was the end to the chaos but waited for two more hours before making an attempt to go out.

A few army men came to our rescue and we started to move out of the room with them. No sooner did we come out of the door than an explosion occurred again. We were confronted by a group of three militants, all of them wearing Islamic symbols. It was ironic to see them, they were destroying the name of the same religion of which they claimed to be 'the warriors'.

Firing resumed from both the sides.

The army men tried to cover us from the ongoing rain of bullets. The sparks were blinding everyone's eyes and the sounds were deafening. A bullet was fired from the enemy side which would have hit my wife in her heart had not a soldier dashed forward and pushed her to the ground. The soldier himself was not that lucky though, another bullet hit him on his forehead and he was immediately reduced to a corpse. Call it fate or chance but my wife could also not live of that miraculous save for much time. Another bullet hit her, blood gushed out of her body and I saw her precious soul leaving me, forever. I couldn't bear it any more and fainted. I still faint at times when I remember that scene.

I woke up in a hospital after few hours. I knew that all my dreams of happiness have been shattered by this hellish incident.

"Why Allah? Why! Why did you do this to me?" I shouted at the top of my voice.

I fainted again.

~ Few Days Later ~

I knew that I had suffered the greatest loss in the incident until I heard on the news, "Many soldiers have sacrificed their lives while saving the Karachi International Airport but one of the stories is the most tragic. Soldier Zubair got martyred in the violent struggle with the terrorists. He got married just an year back and her wife just gave birth to a baby girl. The girl will never be able to see her father's face. The tragedy however did not end here. Her mother could not survive the delivery and the baby is left alone in this world, an orphan."

I fell upon my face and asked God to forgive me whenever I whined.

~ 5 days later ~

"So, Mr. Muhammad, are you sure you're going to take this step of adoption? I mean you've just lost your wife, will you be able to take up such a great task all alone?" the manager of the orphanage asked me.
"Yes, indeed. I've no one else in the world and on top of that her father died saving us."
"You may sign here sir. I wish that you both remain happy for the rest of your lives."
"Thank you."
"Before you take her I must tell you that she has not yet been named. What name shall we put on the papers so that we can go on with the official process?"
"Maryam," I replied.

Unsung Hero

"Chotu! Pick up those cups and wash them too," yelled Ram Singh. Chotu's small hands working on the plates shivered hearing that voice. He knew the outcome of that tone very well. He immediately got up to bring the cups.

"I've been seeing recently, you don't do your tasks well!" Ram Singh shouted again.

"Sor..Sorry saab ji," replied Chotu with trembling lips.

"If you do it again, I won't give you the day's wage"

Chotu, a ten year old boy, has to work from 8 am in the morning till 10 pm in the night when the dhaba closes for the day. He lost his father at the age of five and his mother worked as a maid to feed themselves. When Chotu was nine, his mother's health began to deteriorate and he had to leave the primary school to look after his ailing mother. He then started working at Ram Singh's dhaba to bring home 100 rupees per day.

The clock struck ten and it was time for the dhaba to close.

Ram Singh, however cruel he may seem, was actually a saviour for their family. He went mad at times but also helped Chotu with extra money whenever he was in need.

"Here are your 100 rupees chotu. How is your mother now?"

"She is well saab ji."

Chotu went straight to the medical store to purchase his mother's medicine.

"Which medicine do you want?" asked the medical store owner.

"I don't know the name. Here, take the paper which doctor saab has given me."

"Here it is, 70 rupees."

"70 rupees? It was worth 50 last week."

"Prices are increasing on everything. Don't you know?"

Chotu passed the hundred rupee note to the shopkeeper and took the medicine and the thirty rupee change.

He reached home after a walk of two kilometres.

"Here ma, I've brought your medicine."

"Beta! God will make you a great man one day."

~ Next Day ~

A team of social workers headed by Mr. Aniket along with some policemen came to Ram Singh's dhaba.

"How old are you son?" Mr. Aniket asked chotu.

"Ten...why?"

Mr. Aniket turned to Ram Singh, "Aren't you ashamed of keeping such a young child at work?"

"Saab Ji, his mother was ill and they had no source of income."

"I know all your cheap tactics to save yourselves from the fine."

The reporters took a photo of Mr. Aniket along with Ram Singh and Chotu. Ram Singh was fined heavily.

"Social activist Aniket saved a young child," was the local newspaper's article's headline next day with a large picture that was clicked the last day.

Few days passed and nobody actually made an effort to help Chotu's family.

One day Chotu went to Mr. Aniket's office.

"Saab you took my job but no one has tried to provide me any help since then. My mother is very ill saab, help us."

"Arey! Who are you? How did you come in? Where is the gate-keeper?"

"Saab, I am the child who worked at Ram Singh's dhaba."

"I'm busy right now. I'll look into your matter later."

"But saab...my mother..."

"Are you going out or shall I call the guard?" shouted Mr. Aniket.

Chotu ran out, dejected.

In the evening he went to Ram Singh's dhaba. He knew he may get a slap or two from Ram Singh but he had nowhere else to go.

"Saab forgive me for what happened. My mother is ill, please keep me at work."

"Son, it was not your mistake. These people just make money from here and there. Here, take these 200 rupees and purchase medicines for your mother. I'll keep you at work after few days when this matter cools down. Also, tell me if you need anything else."

Musings

It is 4 in the morning and I’ve still not fallen asleep. I think I have gone crazy, a retard or maybe I am institutionalized. What is institutionalized, you ask? Institutionalized like Brooks was in — The Shawshank Redemption. I think I’ve become so used to the life in that cubicle that I cannot handle a life this serene. I mean, for God’s sake! I’ve taken this two day leave just to get some life in me and I am not even able to sleep.

I’ve grown kind of weird these days. At times I want to judge people on scales of logic, science and rationality and at others I just want to sit like how God sits in the Christian paintings; up in the heavens with the earth as his foot stool and smile at people caring very less about logic and rationality.

I get up and head outside. The sky is still dark, full of gloomy clouds. It is not looking scary actually. It is looking like me. I move towards a nearby hill. Hill stations are beautiful places.

I reach the hill top in about half an hour. I see that the trees have started swaying. I think that even the hill doesn’t like me being here. Or wait! Maybe it is just welcoming me in its own way. I hear the beautiful sounds of the birds moving out of their nests and flying high in the air in search of food. Food — that’s all what they seek, and we? We seek wealth. And why? To lead a life of luxury. It sounds very ironical though.

I see the environment brighten up a bit. The sun has started to come out of its sleep. I see it coming from far behind the mountains. I think the sun has brought a glad tiding with it. I’ve suddenly started to feel calm and serene. Sometimes I wish that I lived in the era when nobody knew if the earth was flat or a sphere and if the earth went round the sun or vice versa, life of a pirate as they say. A drop of rain falls from the heaven above and tickles my skin. I’ve never felt like this in years.

I’ve learned that the beauty of nature can give you the much needed happiness and resurrect your devastated life and as it turns out, I am not that institutionalized after all.

यूँ छोड़कर ना जा

ज़िन्दगी के इस मोड़ पर यूँ छोड़कर ना जा
इस बेरहम छोर पर मुँह मोड़कर ना जा
आज दिल-ओ-जाँ में हज़ार गम हैं
ये मेरी बेरुख़ी नहीं वक़्त का सितम है
माना हमारी तासीर मुख़्तलिफ़ है
पर बिन तेरे हर दम ख़लिश है
तासीर जो मुख़्तलिफ़ है तो क्या ?
मुख़ालफत तो हर मौसम में है
पर सर्द-ओ-गर्म मौसम के दरमियाँ
ही आती है बहार
चलती हैं रहमत की हवाऐं
और खिलते हैं समन
हर रंज भुलाकर तू
फिर हाथ थाम ले, ऐ बेख़बर!
इस बेरहम छोर पर मुँह मोड़कर ना जा
ज़िन्दगी के इस मोड़ पर तू छोड़कर ना जा

My Lost Love

Hither this day as I hold thy wreck
Tears flow from mine eyes surplus
Thought of thy loss gives me an ache
As mine heart pumps life, lifeless

As I stare at thy body, isabelline
I recall when I said, "Thou can go on"
I knew that I was being mean
And in a flick of fate, thou art gone

O how I wish to touch thy strings
To hold in mine hands thy body, alluring
And fly with thy soul, if I had the wings
To listen again to thy melodies, charming

"It's just a guitar," say the angels above
Little do they know, thou art my lost love

Execution

"Allah hu-Akbar... Allah hu-Akbar," the sound of the Azaan struck his ears. The news of a rising sun got modulated throughout the sky on waves of the cold night air which blew to bask itself warm in the rays of the sun. The birds chirped and started transferring the glad tiding of day break from one branch to another. The grey streaks of clouds in the sky started to get a red tint due to the emerging fire-ball from the depths of the ocean.

"Ashhadu-Allah ilaaha...," Amit jumped off his sleep. Drops of perspiration oozed from his forehead and wetted his eyebrows. He was shivering and sweating heavily, trying hard to remember his nightmare. Reality, however, was not much better than the deadly dream he had just forgotten. He looked out of the iron bars which restricted him into the cubical. It was dark in the corridor outside, barely visible. He looked up, the ventilator just got illuminated with feeble light. He knew this was the last sunrise he'll ever see. He looked at the watch, 4:30 AM it showed. "Just six hours remain," he thought to himself trying hard not to explode into tears.

"Hayyalas-Salah...," the Azaan continued. "Come to prayer, this means. Faizan had told me once," he thought. "Faizan, yes, the reason I am here. I deserve to be here, I deserve to be executed," he shouted as tear drops fell from his eyes. A strange fear, an unseen void started to overtake him. He was numb, could hardly feel his own limbs. He felt like someone has held his heart and is pressing it every moment. He could hear the pushes, the attempts his heart made to pump blood. He could feel the air going into his lungs. "All this will stop in 6 hours," a voice in his mind said. He got goosebumps.

"Hayyalal-Falah...," he smiled as he heard this. "Come to success? Huh! there is just failure, death before me." He had often shouted in debates how God wasn't something real, how human beings used religion for destruction and how their ancestors had fabricated God to reign over people. But this day, this very last day, he felt the sudden impulse to cry, to cry to a higher power, to cry to God. "Oh Lord! Save me!" he uttered and fell upon his face. Stream of tears flowed off his swollen eyes. He found himself plunging deep, deep down into the dark, murky valley of thoughts. The thoughts so overtook him that he soon fainted.

~5 years earlier~

"Have you gone mad, Amit?" Faizan shouted at the top of his voice.
"No, I haven't. You deserve it. How can you back stab your best friend and sleep with Anamika?"

Love or aptly said, obsession, urges you to perform devilish wrongs even to the people you love. Amit's eyes burned red with rage as did the flame the emerging from his lighter. Faizan lay there bleeding and dripping in the petrol which Amit had just poured over him.

"No, no..Amit. Please don't do this. I'm...I'm sorry," Faizan cried.
"No, the likes of you are destined to burn on earth and in hell."

He threw the burning lighter on Faizan. Flames erupted from his body. Faizan cried in pain. Amit conscience shook him. "What the crap am I doing?" he thought and ran to Faizan's rescue but it was late. The fire had burned a lot of his body. He tried to extinguish the fire by throwing water on it but to no results. He ran outside and brought some sand with him. As he threw the sand he saw a dark body lying there beyond recognition.

Next he remembered seeing himself in police custody. A case was filed against him. It went on for four years before he broke down in front of the judge and accepted his crime.

~Present Day 10:00 PM~

He was being taken to the execution spot, his face covered with black cloth. He couldn't feel much of the air by now, he was already dead in his thoughts probably. "It won't be painful. Just a bone will break. Much less painful than your crime," a voice told him.

Faizan's mother, Aaminah, stood their looking high up. Her heart finally content with the vendetta. She knew his death won't bury the pain of losing a 20 year old son but would definitely give her the satisfaction that the murderer of her child is not roaming free, alive.

Amit was made to stand under the rope. He could feel death overpowering him. Any moment now could be his last. Tears wetted the black cloth. The rope was now over his neck. "Forgive me, please." he cried.

Aaminah went near him, took off the rope and slapped him hard. "This is for killing my boy," she said and went away.

She was a mother after all.

In Quest of Knowledge

Imagine time flowing backwards. The clocks ticking anti, fallen leaves going up and becoming green again, the dead coming back to life, cellphones, laptops and all the cool-awesome-tech-stuff disappearing...Oh wait! Enough of the imagination thing. You cannot just imagine your life like that or can you?

Imagine yourself walking miles to study under tress in open air. Gaining knowledge was tough back then but now it's easy. A google search... Oh stop! Is it really that easy? Just because you have Google and Bing to search stuff and Ctrl-F to find things quickly do you think getting knowledge has become easy? Think again!

The most important question, why are you in a quest of knowledge? If you seek knowledge because you need an answer to a question or you need to reply and shut someone up in that debate which is going on on Facebook and you open a new tab and start typing, "what is...", you're not gaining knowledge. If you are gaining knowledge so that you can brag about it before other people, you're defying the whole purpose of knowledge.

What is the quest for knowledge? It's the same when tiny insects run after sources of light, a thirst which can only be quenched by the soil of your grave. And you seriously thought alcohol was addictive? Try tasting a drop from this ocean, you'll want to suck it up all.

True knowledge is meant to make you think more and shout less. It is meant to make you wonder and want more of it. A touch of knowledge will make you arrogant but a dip in this sacred pool will make you humble.

I take an example from my own self. At an early stage of life I used to think that I am an awesome programmer and I know everything but then I got more into it and I realized that if the entire earth were full of water I hadn't even tasted a tiny drop in totality. You think you're cool? Dude try assembly language.

Why knowledge? For sharing for sure. When you die, nothing will remain after you except the knowledge spread by you. But people will learn from me and ditch me? For this I have a solution I use myself. Teach people and learn something more and better. This way you'll teach everyone and will still have an edge over them.

Knowledge is open! Knowledge is free!

Happiness

"Mumma I want those glasses," shouted the boy while the family came out of the auditorium. It was the first time he had watched a 3D movie. All the cool and colorful stuff in an extra dimension fascinated him. He thought that the world would look awesome and come alive when he looked through the glasses. Little did he know that the world was already awesome and cruel enough in its three dimensions. About the life, yes, the world has been dead partly of late.

"No, son. We have to return the glasses back to the cinema staff after watching the movie."
"No, no. I want it, I want it." he cried again.

His father went inside the hall again and purchased the glasses. The worker was reluctant to give it, but money, you see, can buy almost everything. He gave the glasses to his son and they got into the car.

"Why does this not look as it looked inside? It's not the same."
"It's the same boy."
"No, it's not the same." the boy shouted again as his father drove the car.
"If it's not the same then throw it and shut up." the mother replied, irritated.

The boy pressed, disfigured the glasses and threw them out of the car.

A group of street children ran after the car. They used to run after every shiny, swift car. One of them saw the falling pieces of glass. He picked them up and gazed at them for some time. The glasses were colorful, red and green. He smiled like he just found a box full of jewels. He took a piece of glass and looked through it. The world looked beautiful with a greenish tint. Then he took the red piece and kept it over the other eye. He gazed at the beautiful patterns his tiny eyes created in the air in amazement. He laughed and ran towards his friends to show them the miracle.

Someone was happy in the end.

Walking Alone on an Empty Road

I drift lifeless in this weary night
Not cognizant of these dark ways
A tear in my eye blurs my sight
Souvenir of bright, beautiful days

I hear the sound of leaves, dry
Crushed like my life, torn apart
Like a soft, muffled cry
I hear their echo in my heart

I turned around with a firm belief
Of someone in this way unknown
But the sight multiplied my grief
An empty road with shadow of my own

I looked up at the moon profound
Prepared I was to shout aloud
At this happiness I just found
When she hid behind a chunk of cloud

The Feeling...

It was 3 AM in the night. He couldn't sleep because of an uneasy feeling, a feeling which can never be described in words of any language. A feeling which is only understood by the one who has experienced it in life. A feeling when one moment you find your chest laden with tonnes of grief that you feel like you're buried deep beneath a catacomb and other moment you feel so empty, so void that you stop sensing anything inside your rib cage, it's like you've snatched your own heart off and thrown it miles away.
In the bright sunlight he may be the most practical and logical man walking on the planet but at times like these he wanted to hold someone and cry like a baby. But practicality you see can inject life into a dying person. He thought that the best workout for an emotional state like this is to analyze the griefs and destroy them individually. So he closed his eyes and started thinking about his problems. After few minutes of deep thinking he found that he had no griefs at all, though his heart appeared to be swollen with them. Here is when the unexplainable part of the feeling comes, you don't have any visible problems. You're just so empty inside that you want your chest to be hacked and chopped into tiny pieces until it stops feeling anything.
His practicality shook him again. He knew that in such situations of distress talking to the people you love helps a lot. But who'll get up at 3 AM for him? Yes, definitely his mother. But if he called her at this time and told her about his situation she may possibly freak out and not be able to sleep for the rest of the night. He decided to call his girlfriend instead.
"Hello, listen baby I'm feeling so distressed. I don't know what's happening to me. I'm just scared."
"What? Scared?"
"Yes, I don't know. I'm going mad maybe, but I need you right at this moment to hug me and console me."
"See baby I can't understand what you want to say. I had a very busy and rough day today. I was sleeping..."
"Ah. Okay baby you sleep. I'll manage."
He disconnected, not because he got sad but because he knew she was saying the truth, her drowsy voice confirmed it and also because he knew he was talking gibberish in an attempt to explain his feeling. But he wanted her to be near him at that very moment. "I love you. Please hug me.", he texted. He knew she won't read the message but it somehow made him feel secure.
He closed his eyes and took deep breaths. But soon he had to open them to give way to the tears oozing out. He buried his face in the pillows and after a few seconds it was the morning alarm that woke him up.