Category Archives: for the love of writing


img_20160928_235654.jpgOh how I love letters and cards! There’s just something special about letters and cards personally given to you and no it doesn’t include e-cards or emails or even typed letters…..     -_- These things are best handwritten and handmade. But sadly, I have no one to share this joy with. Some people don’t understand the value of these things and those who do are either too busy or don’t wanna put in the effort. sigh. And this really                       pisses me off!

Like what the heck are you doing with your life?!

I mean forget about writing to me, why don’t you have time or why can’t you just sit down for 5 mins and write a letter? A heartfelt message or wishes for someone who does actually mean something to you…..

I’m sure we all miss the old days when we used to get so excited upon receiving little greeting cards or letters from friends who moved far away. Heck! I remember writing letters to friends living next door! I also remember how, back in Pakistan, when we were little and we would exchange Eid cards with everyone. And we would get so much joy that we’d read them again and again. And they weren’t anything super decorated or big, they used to be tiny little cards for a rupee or two                       .f21cea37ed7665f26c1d8889872b93d2

If I could, I would go back to that time and I know many would disagree and object saying there are many advancements now that have made things better for us but it’s not about that. Because no matter what I hear, I know that happiness in those times was truly something else. So much more than what we feel today. Happiness is more concerned with materialistic things now-a-days and I admit that I too wouldn’t choose to go back to the problems of the past so that’s why I want to bring the good things,thoughts,acts and hobbies from the past and instill them in our present and future.55c1205dc49c87cb61a6ff0fe0db2662

I know it’s not simple and I can’t do it on my own but I can surely play my part. And I hope that I can find someone who is willing to support me in this and in practicing  this with me………



Broken Dreams.                         Broken Hearts.                              Broken bridges.

                         Broken Bones.                             Broken Relationships

                                                    Never feel the same

She Loved Mysteries So Much That She Became One

So there was a girl who loved mysteries. She loved reading them. She loved watching them. She loved finding them and solving them. But most of all she loved creating them. So much so, that she became one.

In hopes of being discovered, analyzed and accepted. But most of all…clarified

Little did she know that to get something in the world, you have to snatch it. For her mystery to be solved she had to open up, leaving clues here and there.

So she left her traces everywhere she went…. hoping that someone would come to her rescue. That maybe one person would care enough to save her from the big dark and deep hole dug by none other than herself.

Her heart was a secret garden and the walls were very high.

She always had that about her, that look of otherness, of eyes that see things much too far

and of thoughts that wander off the edge of the world.

I prefer to remain mysterious and have people make their own judgment calls about me than to always have to EXPLAIN who I am and what I’m about.