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Showing posts from May, 2018

The language of heart

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On our way back from Al-Rashid Mega Mall in Medinah, we booked a ride with Careem. The careem driver seemed quite rude from his first impression. The car, however, was scratchless, unlike most of the cars in SA (which are cracked or broken like over-boiled eggs). When we sat in the car, it smelled of one of the highest qualities of Arabian Oudh. Finally, we sat in the car and it was a silent journey at the start as the driver was an Arab and none of us could speak Arabic language. However, my father (who is not well versed in English language) started talking to him in broken phrases of English. After a few blank expressions, the driver started talking and he explained that he is not fluent in English in the following words, " English: No, Arabi: Yes". After this, a person like me would have given up but my father is not a quitter (May Allah strengthen him more and more). He continued to ask the driver questions in English. The driver in return, sometimes answered and some...

50 percent off prices or 100 percent off humanity?

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Ramadan has arrived and so have the different offers at various brands in Lahore. One such Sale was at Almas. Almas is an apparel brand but it is more famous for its shoes than other clothing items. Hence, it was not difficult to attract "defence ki aunties" to its DHA outlet. A glimpse of the sale is shown below: What caught my attention was not the fact that these ladies were carrying shoes in their hands and hitting others on their face while pushing and pulling through the crowd. That was a "normal thing" during such sales. What actually caught my attention was when a little girl (around five years of age) fell down and instead of being shaken out of the extreme greed for shoes, these shoes hogging aunties trampled over the little girl. I have never felt so ashamed in my life as I felt at that moment. So was it fifty percent off prices or 100 percent off humanity?

The Invitation to a Masquerade

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Ramadan has begun and the iftar invitations have started to pour in. In such a blessed month of Ramadan, who would want to go to a masquerade? I am invited to a gathering where everybody wears a smile.. where everyone pretends to like each other.. where everyone tries to catch up with each other but just for the purpose of keeping connections intact in times of need... or just for the purpose of adding up to gossip. Seeing such a high level of pretense in people saddens me. It puts me down because we are all humans and we are all free. Why cannot we act like we really want to? Why do we bind ourselves into chains that we could easily avoid? Why do we make connections without which we could easily thrive? For me, the involuntary response to the invitation was a straight no but it was after a dear friend's insistence that I am here thinking about the masquerade. Nevertheless, my answer remains the same.

The Truth About Truth

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Truth comes to you like magic. It comes when you are not even expecting it. You are not even thinking about it.. It comes when it wants to.. No matter how hard you were trying to explore it before, it would come when you have no doubts. It forms chains. A chain with another chain. You get to know it was right there in your brain. And all that was needed was a little more thinking, BUT that little more would not come before it had to!

The Cherry Blossoms of Pakistan

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As I wandered through the streets of Virginia, I wondered how most of the women in Pakistan spend their entire lives like a bud. They are never allowed to travel alone. Even if they have the "audacity" to make such a demand, they are shut out by the phrase "shadi k baad apne husband k sath jahan marzi jana". Their growth, their personal development is hindered and they are made dependent on a male figure for their happiness even before that persons arrival in their lives. Women are the future of Pakistan. I say so because they have the most powerful of all weapons in their hands: the future generations. They can turn them into unhealthy pscho beings or rational individuals. Therefore, its high time to unchain the women, let them develop and discover because it is with my experience that I can say, travelling alone can be the most scariest yet the most empowering experience of all. So let the cherry blossoms of our country bloom!   Step up, step out! Stop roami...

I am a pet dreaming I am a human.

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While I was busy singing praises of how Pakistani society today has been able to break down the chains of patriarchy, I was taken aback when a dear friend of mine disagreed with each and every word that I uttered. She disregarded all the positive movements carried out in the name of feminism and her words were strong enough to mum me. All she said was, "Nimra, what do you think is the life of a woman in Pakistan? No matter how much she studies or how hard she works to secure a job or become a business woman, at the end, she still remains a slave. A slave who is in search of her owner. If the owner turns out to be good, her life is heaven and if he turns out to be bad, she is ruined. Hence, isn't her life similar to that of a pet?" Photo Credits: Getty Images The life of a woman revolves around marriage in Pakistan. She is a winner in this life and the next if she finds a suitable mate and in case beauty finds a beast, her life is over (because this is real life a...

Is the Chai Wala's Job in Danger?

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We were roaming around Dubai airport with my Mom (who happens to be a chai addict), constantly whinning for a hot cup of Chai. We were in search of Starbucks when we caught sight of this magical chai wala. Why do I call this tea making machine a magical chai wala? One. It was extremely economical. Milk Tea costs only 3 Dirhams as compared to 7 Dirhams at Starbucks. Two. The chai was well cooked (only Chai addicts would understand the pain of an undercooked Chai). Three. The chai was ready within 30 seconds. Isn't that magical? The only drawback that this robot/chai wala had was that now my mom is demanding this chai wala as a gift from my dad on their upcoming wedding anniversary! That surely wont be easy on my dads wallet! Thanks to Dallmayr! And goodluck dad! 😉😀