16.12.14

16.12.14*

Each day is a torment. Each day, the eyes wake up in the fear of an unseen trauma. Each day is now, a tragedy. The sorrows of yesterday now seem to be very little in the face of what has happened today. Each day, another catacalysm - for the bright new day, and the hopeful sunrise has turned to dark misery and the blaze of misfortune.

The laughter of a child no more brings happiness in lieu of fear, and the birds of hope hum no more. 

I am not entirely sad for what happened on 16.12.14, but all the facets of tragedy from which the curtains were fallen off on the mournful day. Besides seeing the images of blood pooled School halls and the gory 9th grade class rooms, I also saw the muddy dead bodies of children in Waziristan, our very people bombed upon. People mudering their own people is an excruciating crisis. Undescribly cruel, and inhumane. Catastrophic, and rare. Sadly, I am a part of it. Today, the person on the other side of this computer and the shivering tap of fingers on its keybord mourning about the massacre 16.12.14 is no more just one of the oppressed but also one of 'them'. 

They say war will only heighten our courage and that it hasn't feared us more at all. They say, hope prevails more than ever today. They say we are the strongest in our hardships. And that we'll prosper even more now. Of course I want to beleive that. Of course, I want to bring back the innocent imperfections, the unpainted characters and honest smiles our children. Who doesn't? (Except for the brute who oils a lady teacher and burns her in front of the students, all in the name of religion) I still want to believe that the students will be safe at their Schools even if what it will take is to close them for weeks in the name of winter vacation and Chrismis. And they say, they will be. So if even for a moment, I try believe in that - The air around and my mediocre human insticts just won't let me. 

Because I think I have realized that the bright hope and eteranal prosperity is not the reality. Traumatized 14 year olds, is the reality. Unjust system is the reality. Corrupt law enforcement is reality. Helplessness is reality. The blood on the uniform, the school bag, the lunch boxes and the rotten sandwich inside because the child got shot before the lunch break, is reality. So tell me where to find hope? Tell me the truth behind the optimism and about bright future, liberty and harmony.  

Reality is, that people are still walking down their streets with an unscarred integrity. Adn calling the country the pyara Pakistan - The land of the pure. 

Hope hasn't died; but its muddiness has faded away it's spirit. 

-Fa

* http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2014_Peshawar_school_massacre

The thought of you

I avoid the thought of you. 

And, it is the toughest thing in the world. 

Because you dive into the most vulnerable parts of myself 

and come to me then. Like, when I wake up 

randomly in the middle of the night or when I'm tired. 

And when I'm sick. And when it feels like the end of the world.

Or when its just a sad day. 

Only the glimpse of your sight inside my head,

the way you would have taken care of me and the air

with you not in it, then - is an unbearable torment. 

And so, I avoid the thought of you. 

At least, I wish I could. 

-Fa

So, stop. Really.

For your right to reprimand is long gone.

So, take me seriously now. I'm not going to be the same. 

Not now, not ever.

The laughing all the time,and the pink and shiny is forlorn - It's lost. 

There's no point, you see. 

The person you once knew isn't there. The person you let go of, isn't there. 

I'm not broken. I'm not "shattered". 

So, stop. Really. 

And then it came tonight.

And then it came tonight. 

I am tired. The pain is still here. 

So, is the exhaust. But you aren't. 

Neither is the spright. And, I miss that. 

-Fa

It was never about lust.

It was never about lust, you know. 

It was genuine and pure love that I had for you. 

Even now, after all these years when I'm alone in my bed,

crying like a baby, cuddled up and twisted within my own self,

I never imagine you over me and above me or

caressing my body. I want you here, Just here. 

Looking at me. Laughing, all lovable. 

And, talking to me just like when we were best friends. 

-Fa

"All I ask"

All I ask.

I used to make ridicule about what they said when they said "All I ask" of you to love me or "all I ask" is for you be mine. I mean, its not little. Not little at all. Its not "All you ask" it is actually all you can ever ask. Its the best, most dangerously massive thing to entrust. All your love. All of you. It is. Isn't it? But then I thought about loving you. How abnormally, unawaited love that is. 

How unconditional and meaningless it really is.
And, the truth is, it is always going to stay - this love. This affection and care and support and regard that I have for you will never fade. It will breathe to its fullest. It will live with lavish. It will take over absolutely all the love you have ever had in all your life. Each second and each moment of each breath, I will love you to my fullest. 
I will take care of you like something that I'm most reliant upon. I will love you with the most vulnerable parts of myself. You will be next to none and you will be my only one. Always. All I ask is for you to give me all of you. All I ask is for you to love me. Only then perhaps, "all I ask" stroked some air.

-Fa

Love at first sight

I'm not saying that it was love at first sight.
I'm not even sure if I believe in such abstract orthodox. 

All I know is that what I felt when I first saw you and your divine facet,

it was the electricity I haven't felt ever before. Never after that. 

-Fa

Friends.

Okay. 

I'm being honest now. Its me speaking. 

Only me. Not my ego. Not my self righteousness. 

Not even my wingless freedom of speech. It is me speaking. 

It's Afaf. It hurts to see you being that kind with someone who is the reason 

behind my irrecoverable scars. I mean, I know she's your friend and everything. 

But it hurts to know that you aren't even a little mad at the person who

 did nothing but tip toe over my shattered pieces when I couldn't 

even move from the pain. At the one person who I thought 

would be there always, and the very person who 

oiled the fire that burnt inside of me. 

You're not even a little mad? 

-Fa

The Seasons of Madness

Chapter one: Wait

July, 2013

Waiting had never been this painful. I fear it might take my sanity away. I mean, I have known wait. It's an ache, I remember. It used to be teary, and sad - besides the dint of joy it had in it. The memories brought back you, and I liked having you in my thoughts. But its not the same now. I lost the joy as it turned to a deep pit of helplessness. You've taken over my nerve now. I feel like screaming out your name to the stars because it's the only thing we share. And as the cruel inevitability frightens me to the thought that this wait carries endless darkness just as that of the dark pit I writhe myself into, I fear even more. 

Chapter two: Delusion

September, 2013

I can dreadfully feel it tearing me apart. I don't remember living a day without thinking about you. I even feel like I see you sometimes. Like when I rush my head up for the mirror. Or when I am in a hurry for work and I need to take one last look at myself. And when someone hastily walks past me. 

I see you.

Chapter three: Hysteria

January, 2014

Centuries have passed upon my barren existence since I last saw you. And yet, everyday is a struggle. Everyday a marathon of running myself from the shadow of you that I have found in myself.

Chapter four: Pain

---

Chapter five: Peace

April, 2014

I have found peace. Or maybe peace has found me?  The barefoot, bloody walks have taught me a lot about myself. And about you - Although, its not different at all. You are me. And, I am you. I had been crazy all that time for cutting and bruising myself in the pursuit of finding you or perhaps just to get a little closer to you. Had I known that I have been hurting you too, I swear I wouldn't have bladed at all, my love.  For you and I, we were never you and I. 

We are one.

Chapter six: Madness

May, 2014.

I walk in the brutally silent streets outside my empty house. I hope it's not troubling but often these days, I hear you in the raging screams that I've found in the silence. And when the sun shines upon me in the scorching 45 degrees heat, I don't see myself in the shadow walking beside me. I see you. 


- Fa

Giving up

I don't believe in giving up. I realize it’s an enslaving pain that only grows and is eating me up little by little inside. I know that I can die just one time and prefer it over dying an agonizing death every single day, perhaps every single wink of my reminiscing eyes. But, I don't. It’s not even because I'm a little addicted to this ache, not because I now relish the pain neither because I'm incomplete without it but because I'm not a coward.

-Fa

Eternities

There are eternities in a single moment,

while a moment is all that sorcerizes. 

- Fa

The living death

She's the smudged writing on a crumbled piece of paper. 

She's the living death. 

- Fa

Her macabre thoughts

Stop worrying so much about your 

so-called upholding sentences,

which, by the way are meaningless in her macabre thoughts.

She is the ignorance to your sagacity. 

She cares the least about the love for humanity,

your rapture towards the propitious life, truth. 

She's dark now. Her life, beryl. 

-Fa 

Madness

Madness.

I think I'm falling in love with this.

I mean, it's the only part of me that's still alive. You know,

like when a bird is cut off of it's wings or when someone
 loses their eyes. And, like when I lost you. 

There's just this incidental, but a furious
 emotion left in your heart. Madness.

And I think I really am stuck on it. 

- Fa

Blood. Paper. Pen.

Dearly beloved,

I hope you are as beautiful 

as I left you that sunset. I hope your eyes still shine 

like I remember them.And, I hope you're smiling too.
 Listen, I know it doesn't make any sense that I'm writing to you. 
And the doctor says that writing to you will only worsen my ache.

 But what does he know about pain? 

Even thou, its only me who's ever going to read it 

and never you but I just need to tell you that I love you. 

And, I know with all my heart and all the scraps left of it 

that you can never be mine. I know that we were never meant to be. 

And, I know the paradox of today says that I'm too good for you. 

And, I know how tragically varnished it is. 

I know telling you all this is like a void calling in the phantom of nothingness. 

I also realize how miserable and lonely and sick I am. 

But you know, I love you now. And, will love you tomorrow. 

Just as I loved you yesterday. And all the days before that 

and all the days that have yet to come. I will love you. 

I'm out of blood now so take care you. 

Will write you again, soon.

Eternally and witheringly yours,
Fa

Blood. Paper. Pen. (2)
http://fajanjua.blogspot.com/2015/01/blood-paper-pen-2.html

Blood. Paper. Pen. (3)
http://fajanjua.blogspot.com/2015/04/blood-paper-pen-3.html

Blood. Paper. Pen. (4)
http://fajanjua.blogspot.com/2015/08/blood-paper-pen-4.html

All of me

You lied to me in my face. But it's not the point, it was you. 

I agreed to your lies and let 

you have all of me. 

This is what made it miserable then, bloody now. 

- Fa

The jaded tyranny

I would talk to the water. I spent my nights staring at the home aquarium. 

Sometimes when it was possible, I would skip school and go to the lake nearby.

 I would sit there for hours. Just staring at the water.
I felt what it would be like to be in there.

 Unable to breathe or move and just waiting for death

 to overcome my existence. Just as it overcame my life.

 I would feel water over me, around me. I would feel what it would feel to be dead. 

I would feel to be helpless and have the mother nature rightfully accept it.

 Ricocheting the jaded tyranny. I would finally feel the equilibrium.
For once. Perhaps, just for once.

- Fa

It hurts!

There's just so much pain. 

And I know I deserve. 

Devastated, bloody and sobbing,

she could feel her nerves burn

and only plead to herself.

"But, it hurts!"

-Fa

"I'm fine"

Soaked pillow

bloody napkins

scarred wrists

and, her scattered mascara.

"I'm fine"

is all she would say today. 

- Fa

Roses will be burnt

"I have the exact idea of what I'd want if I were omnipotent"

She went after a long period.

"I would turn the world into a slaughter house. I'd nail men form their toes to the floor and drink blood. I'd turn the whole fucking system. Waterfall will be turned to gory blood streams. Buildings will be raised from the heads of innocent. Brute will become the law and rage, the only sentiment left. Days will be closed and war shall be celebrated at night. Hatred will rule. And, roses will be burnt"

- Fa 

Sakeena (Episode three)

Sakeena (Episode three)

Where she had entered looked no less than a normal cafeteria area. She took a sigh of relief and looked for a proper sitting. She cleaned her sweat and took another moment of respite. It didn’t take more than one minute for her to realize that she was surrounded by men, and only men. There wasn’t a single girl in the café. It was weird. But fine. It was the morning time and obviously boys bunked more often than girls. She was sitting on the middle round table in the café surrounded by more tables, benches and stole chairs right behind her. Filled with boys of all age groups mostly among 20s to 30s. She looked at her cell phone. Disappointed, as it were of no use. The battery had run out the minute her friends and she had left the college. Her friend had offered her a spare cellphone. “Its okay. Why would need to call anyone?” and she had refused.

She regretted more than anything in the world.

She called the waiter to bring her some water. She noticed something different about him the moment she entered the café but had ignored obviously because she had other more frightening fears on her mind. The waiter brought the water. The moment he handed over the water to her. She knew it. She went pale, goose bumped and shivering. She wanted to say “thank you” but only blubbering came out of her mouth. He stood up and the waiter’s breasts were now clearly visible. He was a homosexual. The guys around her were homosexual. The man with the purple shirt in the corridor was homosexual. It was an underground gay bar of the town that she was standing in at the moment. She turned round to look for an exit but found nothing. As she stood with an unexpected haste, she had now gained the attention of all the men. Everyone noticed she was misplaced. Some started to laugh, some completely ignored her behavior while one guy from behind the counter rushed towards the girl. She got back where she collided with someone. The guy was sitting on a bench and apparently she had disturbed a passionate moment of him and his boyfriend. The man gave her an irritated groan and carried on.

She felt disgusted and wanted to run away. Hastily moving away from them, she now moved forward and the guy rushing towards her had now reached Sakeena.

“Is there a problem miss? I believe you are misguided here” The boy’s gesture showed that he was a literate. Perhaps the only literate person in the café. She hurriedly told the whole story and told him to get her out of there ASAP. “Relax… I will help you. You need not worry at all. The café you entered to was a banned sheesha café that led its roots to this one. I’ll let you make a call and get you out of here”

She felt perplexed. “Should I be relieved?” She thought to herself “Or is this a part of the game that I am a puppet of?”

“This isn’t me. I don’t bunk College. I don’t smoke. I don’t lie to my parents about where I am going with friends. I am not a playgirl. Who is this inside of me that led me to all this? And here I am, standing in the middle of a gay bar, lost and all alone. I am not supposed to be here. I am supposed to be in my home, where there were no worries. It was safest place on earth. Loving brothers, my parent and the perfect lifestyle. I feel like pitying on myself t have chosen this battle of distrust and the dilemma of having to trust these people or not. What would mamma feel if she knew I was here? She’s be worried to death. Pappa would do anything to get me to a safe place first. I am killer. A killer of my own peace, indeed.”

She had nothing to say to the boy questioning to him. Nodding, she only followed his lead.

  
Sakeena - Episode one:  http://fajanjua.blogspot.com/2014/07/sakeena.html
Sakeena - Episode two: http://fajanjua.blogspot.com/2014/08/sakeena.html

Paper cutter

"Do it"

She whispered to herself. 

As she held the paper cutter to her left wrist. 

Numb, barefoot and bloody. 

"You will get through the black cloud. 

You will heal" She remembered him say

 and screamed her lungs out. 

"I can't!"

- Fa

No, not anymore.

She didn't want to become all happy and fun.

No, not anymore.

The belief in smiling for no reason was lost. 
All she wanted now was to make peace

 with the salient wretchedness

 and her mocking reality.

- Fa

Brutality of love

The brutality of love was now crystal clear.

 It was either the the endless spilling of blood

 or the sweet scent of a bed of roses.

Latter, she had known, former she now yielded. 

The scars on her skin was the only make up she wore.

 Blood, her attire. While them 

silent screams, the hostile comrades.

- Fa

Tortured soul

None of the pills worked for her 

while the doctors were out of answers

Thou, to herself she stayed silent

for she knew the truth from her inside

It wasn't the body, neither its poor immunity,

but the tortured soul that lay within

and the sadness in her heart, coving cut.

- Fa

Sakeena (Episode two)

Part two

Sakeena's eyes were jet black in color, just like her hair. They were big and very bold which after her birthday, turned into the saddest of eyes. She gave more time to her family and tried her best to never be alone so the daunting memories wouldn't haunt again. She hummed while she was alone while silence was frightening.

She was sitting with her brothers, when suddenly the thought occurred to her again. Haunting her.  Teasing her. Mocking her very soul. She wanted to run away from it. Forget the whole incident, but failed. Every time, she felt helpless against her conscience. 

The middle aged man staring at her, perverted and alone in the corridor, wore a glittering purple shirt with loose baggy jeans. Even the thought of the sight brought Goosebumps. There were a million things that could have happened to her. He could have done anything to her. Anything he wanted. Anything to satisfy his desires; touched her, abducted her for life, or worse raped her. She had heard stories about teenage girls when she was little – “there are kidnappers all around the city, waiting for helpless girls to walk past their ways” “Girls disappeared mysteriously were brought to brothels and enforced to spend a lifetime satisfying their customers – worshiping the pimps” Everything she had heard flashbacked before her eyes and ears. 

She hadn’t known such fear, she had known that day.  

The other man in his 50s brought even more dread. He looked like a pimp, without any second thought. The perverted smile on his face had brought chills down to her spirits.

Her tears started to shed again. 

It was her and the man alone in the corridor. The memory brought shivers and she started to sweat bullets. She was 17 and he was in his 50s. Using power would have been useless. So, she had to keep wise. His bulky body was reaching towards her and she had move towards the only exit that he had entered from. In other words, both were approaching each other. She had no other option, it was a one-way corridor and she had to get out of it through the exit door.She couldn’t run or the man would definitely interrelate even if he wasn’t going to. She couldn’t reveal fear on her face or the man would feel powerful against the little object. She had to act normal. And thus she walked her way through it. Steadily and at her best not to let drop the slightest of fear in her expressions. Though unknowingly her sweat had wet her whole shirt and the man had noticed the anxiety on the face of the perplexed teenage girl out on an adventure with her new boyfriend or her girl friends, the thought had brought a cheeky smile on his face and so he relished the moment. Absolutely flouting the moment of walking past the man, Sakeena felt abnormally anxious and her steps started move even fast. In a few minutes she had reached the door when unwillingly she looked back at the man if he was still watching. He was. She regretted the moment she turned around and hastily ran out of the door. 

Sakeena: Episode one http://fajanjua.blogspot.com/2014/07/sakeena.html

Sakeena: Episode three http://fajanjua.blogspot.com/2014/09/sakeena-episode-three.html

Not just yet

Don't tell me you love me, 

not just yet. 

I have been acquainted to the euphoria and the very brutality it brings along

yet you deserve just another tremor 

from the soul that suffered dejection, woe and

 the stinging pain of redemption 

put the shadow off my dark secrets and seek the reality

behind my scars, tell me then 

tell if you love me, thou

not just yet.

- Fa

Burning happiness

She saw mirth, ceased with fire
Raving to death, searing deep within
The ashes of which, were perfumed with rage
While eyes witnessed the terror

Do you know what it feels like to see?
Every last ort of joy, burn.
Till it finally dies

- Fa

How does it feel?

How does it feel? 

Knowing that someone knew each and every tiny little thing about you

 knowing that they knew you loved them

 and knowing that they still let you fall off to the pit, you may never recover from.

How does it feel? 

- Fa

"Let it in"

The bracelet fell off his hands as he screamed her name in impuissance.

"Let it in"

He had said as he tried to present over the bright diamond bracelet. It imbedded twelve finely cut cubical pieces of diamonds every quadruple of which were relatively large hazel colored rubies. It was certainly the most beautiful jewelry she had ever seen in her life. He ascended to edge of the bridge where he had found her gazing the deep questioning water.

"How strange of myself, to have longed for pearls and pradas all my life - when all I truly wanted was just peace"

She grinned as she jumped into the water and put an end to everything - Her misery. Her guilt. Her fears. And, him.

- Fa