The Door In Between...

This piece is dedicated to each and every member of my Al-ilm family. I am indebted, forever for your love; your compassion; your patience; your respect; the moments of banter; the incredible memories, laughter and above all, your tolerance and acceptance (of me)! It means way more than I shall ever be able to express.

I heard someone once say, ‘there is a door between me and Him’. I cannot express enough the magnitude and depth to which I echo this line. When I look back at my life and there have been so many moments when I have seen, felt and touched this door, but it hasn’t opened, not as yet… I have always felt His presence right across and as much as I have prayed, whipped and begged; that one line, as faded as it is, hasn’t moved. You know what though, I am so grateful that it hasn’t because it keeps reminding me that I need to elevate myself further. It reminds me that there is a long way ahead and much must be done on my part to cross over. It keeps me grounded, just where I belong!
 
It is 0541, I am on a ferry to Donsak pier listening to Wohi Khuda hai by Atif Aslam: some moments can’t be put to words. I am heading to Bangkok to attend Navroz. How can I possibly express how grateful I am to He who is above all else!
I don’t think my words will ever do justice. I seem to have found home on the island of Koh Samui, as if this is where I belong and I don’t want to leave. It surprises me a lot because I am not one to settle down in one place, but this island seems to have synced with my soul. In fact, it is not just the island but the country itself that has grown on me, and does so more, each passing day!
 
When I resigned from the University, my only regret was not being able to work for Him anymore, because that is the primary reason with which I joined. 16 months later, I can say He has continued to bestow me with opportunities serve Him, especially through camps, which I am most passionate about – again, I am so grateful to Him.
 
Al Ilm is my family in ANZ! I have never met any one of them physically, but that doesn’t make a difference at all to what they mean to me! 4 days of camp felt too short!! It was Dec 2020 when I heard about the camp and expressed my interest to serve. I was glad that my application was accepted but as a facilitator – not my cup of tea. I was very happy to be a part of it, but I shared that I’d rather do logistics, which again, when I was accepted into the role, I was humbled. The one thing that I admired most about the team and the leadership was their acceptance of me without any bias, any judgement - this meant so much to me; even more so now!!
We discussed on our 1^st logistics call about the Zoom logistics and at the first core team meeting that I attended, Alykhan (head of the logistics team) put me on the spot to share with everyone – I blanked out! Shanik saved me!! :p It was a “maro mujhe moment” I thought to myself, I am supposed to be the guy who knows about Zoom and here I am *facepalm*. Then…I slept during one of our meetings, Jesus! Well, it was at 0400 and I decided to take it from my bed – big mistake!! I thought to myself ‘a relatively experienced logistics volunteer, who blanks out and sleeps during meetings’ – what a reputation Rahim!!
 
I earned myself the nickname “naming conventions”. Hosting calls; refusing to give co-host access: p; playing old-school music; being too critical at times; joining 2 zoom lines at once (and making the folks in the lounge attend sessions: p); always being in awe and sheer admiration of the talent, unity and bond of the team; taking the funny screenshots; discussing big boss; the Spotify playlist; the final day chaotic vibe; the emotional beginnings and endings; learning how to play 21; ‘maro muje maro’ and being a member of the famous ‘unfiltered break-out room #4’ – there is just so much to miss about the camp!
 
No 2 camps are ever the same and it is unfair to compare because each brings its own set of lessons, memories, friendships. It is also not fair for me to take any 1 particular name either because I made friendships and bonds all across, unique understandings and wavelengths with the different members of the team, but the camp allowed me to meet someone who I saw glimpses of myself in. I always say that he is a way more talented and focused version of me!! His honesty to serve with a purpose and dedication will be something I will always admire and give an example of. He will always be my bhai.
 
I carry the thoughts of each one of them with me. I pray for them. I am taking the first flight to Australia post Covid-19 restrictions being lifted – I am determined to do that, or they come to Thailand!!
 
This piece does not do justice at all, especially to a camp that brought a lot of meaning and happiness for me. I once again want to say that the way each member of the team accepted me, I am indebted!
 
I want to conclude by saying: there are moments when the door between Him and I is no more; I feel His presence right across me; I feel He is holding my hand and guiding me through – moments when I serve. It hurts me to see ‘narcissistic egos’ getting in the way of one’s inclusion to serve but I have confidence and faith in Him, and He will guide me (and others) through. I know this for a fact! I have faith!
 
 Peace!

Champ!

Conectar!!!!

Author's note: this piece is dedicated to each and every single member of my Conectar family :)

It has been 5 years since the first time I attended a GE camp, yet I still get very emotional, connected, and touched each time. Every camp since then has had its own special place in my heart. Somewhere along the journey, I have also had to sadly hold back (and it hurt a lot!) but that is a different story for another day. Today, a day after the winter camp ended, the shortest camp I might add, which I honestly thought and questioned in terms of connections that will be made has left me numb, speechless, filled with tears of joy for the honour of knowing a bunch of incredible individuals; even better that they feel like, in fact, they are a family to me.

 

Connectar or Conectar as Alisha would correct me, which I might add wasn’t even my spelling in the first place (she won’t accept this!), has become a part of my life without even realizing. I remember getting a call from the head of logistics for the camps months back and she asked if I had the time in December to do another camp. As the GM of a villa, Christmas and NY is a peak period so I hesitated for a moment but agreed to serve on the evening stagger; 1915 till 0330 for me. Crazy you might say? Well, my Nanu has left me with a legacy of serving and I value this blessing, this privilege very highly but above all, only the blessed get to serve. 
I got the confirmation to be on the team and connected with the Senior Staff team. Zara, one of my participants from 2015 was a co-OpD. I am so proud! So ideally, you do camp and post that, the conversations die but Zara and I have remained in touch. Her abilities to do all that she does at her age, inspires me, a lot!
I met Raheel briefly during the 2018 Pakistan camp; that was a camp I hadn’t fully immersed in though for personal reasons, so I knew him but not did not know him. I had never met Mother Nature or Planet Earth before (#conectarreference)! I am so glad that I now know all 3 of them; their energy, their thoughtful creativity, their dedication and their passion for teaching is something I will always treasure.

 

“I am not a cheater, but I love winning and I have ways of doing that within the ethical boundaries” – Mwalim Rahim

 

Every camp has special memories, mostly, it will be the little things that you will remember for years to come; things that break the ice; allow for bonding to happen and eventually bring you together as a family. I’d say for us, the ice broke during the 2 socials we held. Although they were a complete contrast of each other, but they did the job! Aamal – my partner in crime should always remember that we never cheated, it was simply teamwork, and Malika, I know will have a facepalm at this point; perhaps, the truth is stretched a bit… #codenames

I cannot miss mentioning the food connection we all share; travel stories with Alisha; Swahili with Nafisa (teach me more please!) and the incredible amount of sass, banter and sarcasm that actually bonded us even more. 

I remember the one time I was all serious with a very strict face and Nirali’s comment lightened the mood. 
Ruhafzo, I do hate that filter function!
And of course, I should co-host a mindful minute at the Church of Aisha!

 

I cannot believe how easily (and unbelievably - I must say) Taufiq bonded with the family. As a late entry, it is always so tough (believe me I know!), but he is incredible. Saadiya and Taufiq’s cabin was my regular check-in. I call Saadiya, Shadow. I guess this nickname finally has its real meaning – she is my Shadow; one of my most special people since 2015. I really miss having our ‘check-ins’ in Karachi every 6 months. Clifton JK and Xander’s; I truly miss those times. I enjoyed spending time in their cabin not as a Mwalim but just as a part of the cabin. Of course, I would be introduced as ‘the world traveller’ – so much of an ego boost :p. I hope they read the Macbeth! Also, the rule of thirds – I did improvise very well!! I am so proud *collar raised*!

 

I have always said facilitation is a very difficult role; one I would fail at, royally! Majdi’s facilitation during the family visits was truly remarkable. It was my 2^nd camp with him in a row and his dedication to giving back despite all odds against him is simply inspiring. On the 2^nd day of ‘office hours’, I think I put Ariana in the waiting room when I wanted to actually put Alisha HAHA. 
They say life is incomplete without pain and for me, I felt pain when Savsan wasn’t able to attend the closing. I felt how she must be feeling and even though she was able to join towards the end, it was barely a minute left. Earlier in the day, I was discussing with Shazia and Zara the piece I thought I should read during open mic but post-closing and given what I felt, I read a completely different piece and truly dedicated it to her. Her message to me, later on, is one of the most beautiful ones I have ever received. 

 

It is unbelievable when I look back at my calendar and most of us have only known each other for just about a month and a half; all virtually yet we have spent the last couple of days, if not more, having shed some tears. Nirali, your story has a very special place in my heart; ‘the door between us and Him’

For me, there is no logical reasoning for these kinds of bonds and there shouldn’t be one as such, but the one thing that does unite us is our allegiance to the Imam of the time. It is our faith in Him that brings us together, guides us in our daily lives and makes us feel that we should give back. Some of us woke up at 4; others did not sleep till sunrise; some survived on 4 hours of sleep for months while others gave away their earned holidays to the cause; words will never do justice to how I feel about all this.

 

Mwalimu Esmael once told me ‘live in the moment, Rahim’. There is perhaps no greater advice that I have taken seriously than this one. Life is one-way and time never stops or returns so do the things you want and express how you feel, today! As Nisha said ‘it is easy to ask for forgiveness than permission’ 

GE has transformed my life. My camp stories are endless, to be honest. I laugh and cry thinking of all the moments that are engraved in my heart like it was yesterday. They act as reminders of the incredible time I spent; discussions I had; embarrassing moments; connections I made; the inspiring young individuals I met who were giving back despite all the odds; the unity of the team during the highs and lows of the camp; the warmth around a borne fire on a cold safari night still warms my soul; as I said, endless! My heart is filled with gratitude for all the memories and Conectar is perhaps one of the most special ones for me. 
All of me loves all of you….

Peace!

Champ!

 

Me without Dad is Lifeless

Author's note: This piece was written last week I believe. It was a day when I was immersed and absorbed in Dad's memory. I was really, really missing him that day so I penned this.

My most sincerest gratitude to Shazia for editing it, however, most of it, is as raw as I wrote it.

Every day without my dad is tough but some days trigger something deep inside such that every minute feels like a dagger straight through my heart; today is that kind of a day! Days like today, everything in my life; everything, my travels, my ocean office, my beach life, the few stunning videos and photos I have/click; simply everything in my life seems meaningless, valueless, lifeless…

 

I was quite okay actually up until evening but then I decided to go swim and as I was standing at the shore of the beach, the waves knocking into me strongly and the feeling of the ground beneath disappearing as they went back, something clicked. The waves these days in Samui are rough and high even for places like Bangrak, where I live, and usually have the calmest of waters. 

Dad was one of my strongest supporters, a pillar of my existence and I did not firmly realize until he passed. He was a very tough father who instilled ethics in me the hard way, and I don’t think he cared as long as he made sure that I was being the best version of myself. My grandfather was blind and hence did not do much for Dad. My grandmother did multiple jobs including washing utensils at homes to feed the household. I am not sure at what age but very early, my dad began working and because he was not educated, he had to do hard labor work. He would often share stories of how he struggled in Dubai, many times cooking food in a large quantity, which would be consumed over 2-3 days because they would be too tired and exhausted to cook daily, plus they never had that kind of money. 
Anyways, this space is too short to share his stories, but I will add…

 

He went through very tough times during his life all for mother and I. he invested his savings in my education, and I am ashamed every time I think of the times, I fought with him for not giving me what I wanted, which were mostly things I survived without none-the-less. I remember one particular instance, wherein my argument I told him I wanted to leave the house and he said, ‘I will leave tomorrow and everything that is mine is yours’. To be honest with you, I feel very guilty at the core for all those times!

 

When I am sad, I usually like to drive with some music on, or I write and pour everything. On this beautiful island of Samui, I can do both. I drove to my favorite viewpoint which has an amazing powerful breeze and the sight/sound of the waves crashing; I love it! This place touches me in ways I cannot explain. It is my “spot”. 
I am seated across, sharing what I am feeling as I sip my tea. How blessed am I, I cannot express! You know what though, I’d trade it all if I got Dad back. I miss having that one number I could dial to say, ‘I love you Dad’. The man who understood that his son’s heart had been hurt beyond repair, had given up on love and wandered; he understood his son’s passion for travel and why he always needed to be on the road or “Up-intheair!”; he understood his son was not a follower or a yes person and hence would not be society’s favorite kid; the man who believed in his son’s dream, regardless of how big they were for him.

 

I truly miss my father, whether I say it or not, and regardless of how it’s been 1,647 days since he left and as many more to come; I will always continue to miss him…

Peace!

Champ!

Piercing Nostalgia

 Author's Note: I honestly don't know why I ended up writing this piece or how. I think something triggered me yesterday; a song, a memory, a feeling and I thought I'd just pen down what I felt.

Kuch aise hadsay hojate hai zindagi main Faraz,

Insaan bach toh jata hai, mager zinda nahin rehta...

Sometimes, very few times but very strongly, I feel like starting over. I feel like cleaning the slate of my life of all those who have been anchors of pain rooted in my existence. I feel like deleting them, if possible, at all. I can of course do it on social media and delete their numbers but how can someone be erased from memory? I have tried it you know; muting someone’s stories and posts on Instagram and it worked remarkably well, until that song played that I had once sang for her on a voice note, or the song she shared with me…all it took, was the first note of those songs and right there, she returned! So no, social media blocking isn’t good enough and there has to be a better way, or a way at least; because it hurts a lot to live with shadows knowing they will never become a reality for you. My fav poet once said ‘tu jo na mila toh marjaenge Faraz; kitna haseen woh jhoot bolta tha’, meaning, ‘if I do not get to have you I will die, what a beautiful lie she used to tell me’. 

 

“Maktub” is a word from Paulo’s book the Alchemist, and it is tattooed on my neck representing my belief that if things are meant to be, they will happen because it is written. Truth be told, I hope that some people are not written for a 2^nd chapter of theirs in my life. And just as I am typing this, her song plays on my playlist; mujse pehli si mohobat mere mehboob na mang… 

I think life is about choices and we make them every single day from what to put on, who to text, what to eat…who to love! I don’t want to be someone’s 2^nd choice! I want to be chosen because someone feels ‘right’ with me, not because life has brought them back to me. I think Khalil Gibran said ‘if you truly love someone, let them go. If they returned, they were yours and if they do not, they never were’. I fully disagree to this actually. Why would you want to let love go? I know circumstances do happen where we are not ready for it and sure you let it go (I have too) but don’t expect it to hang around or come back. Life is not a Bollywood movie or a fairytale where it is ‘happily lived ever after’. Life is like an airplane, which you board when you come into this world, and every major decision is a pushback from the gate you were on – there is no going back…
One of the best individuals in my life, who I can honourably say I had a connection with once told me ‘you are either enough for someone, or you are not; sometimes, it is that simple, Rahim!’ 

 

I don’t know what triggered me to write this piece but after such a long time, I have written without stopping. I was thinking and reflecting on certain individuals in my life, who are there but are not there. It does not affect or bother me all the time, but every time I think about it, I wonder if they even remember me; or our conversations; generally, what we had... I honestly can’t say they do. Their existence and presence triggers the strongest possible nostalgia, but it is all part of life, isn’t it. I want to end this piece with another one from Faraz:

“Hai dafan mujh main kitni rounaqein, mat puch Faraz,

Ujjr Ujjr kay jo basta raha, woh shehar hoon main”

Peace!

Champ!

Silence (II)

 Author's Note: I have been meaning to finish and post this piece for almost 4 months now but laziness and the island way has got to me. A very close friend reminded me that I hadn't posted a piece in a while. She is one of my most valuable friends! She has been by my side and understood me as a person rather than judge me, even when I chose certain paths (I will write about this openly, some day!).

I started this piece in September in Kanchanaburi and finished it in December in Koh Samui. I only like to pen down when my emotions are in sync.

Last year, I traveled to East Africa for a month and wrote a piece relating to the silence I experienced and felt in the region (http://whitelyz.blogspot.com/2019/09/silence.html) . A reader had commented asking me ‘how has the experience of the silence affected me’

Trust me when I say this, I have had this question on my mind all along because of two reasons; that was the first time any reader had ever asked me a question on any of my pieces. It made me realize that somewhere, there were those who read me and somewhat, perhaps my words touch them. I also felt personally very intrigued by the question and it made me reflect on it a lot.

I am currently traveling for a week within Thailand and I have felt the same peace within this region (Kanchanaburi), so I am finally going to scribble down my thoughts on this…

 

I had to stop the piece and never found myself to write again but I wish to continue it right now as I stare down the ocean with a cup of tea, from the pier next to my beach house.

 

Firstly, the silence I felt at Erawan was different and unmatched to the silence I had felt back in East Africa. I think I know the reason; the area I was in at Erawan has a dark history due to WW2. In 1942, the Japanese decided to act upon the plans developed by the British in 1885 of building a railway line between Burma (now known as Myanmar) and Thailand. The railway plan was extremely dangerous and risky. A lot of prisoners of war lost their lives due to the harsh and inhumane working conditions under an already-overly ambitious project. 

 

It is one of my favorite places in Thailand because the soul recognizes the pain, and your life seems to come to a standstill. Death leaves a deep, dark and piercing silence consisting of the screams of those who endured the worst that humanity has to offer. Truth be told, the silence can be “heard” and felt for as long as time exists…I feel the pain of history and reflect on how life must have been back then. This is why I am fascinated with historic sites – they let you imagine and feel (although one can never fully feel what happened) the events that took place back in time; it is like you have time traveled! I don’t know how many of you feel this way but whenever I go to a place with a history, it’s as though the place tries to show me what happened there. It tries to connect and relate to me.

 

So, the question: how did the silence affect me? At first when I reflected on this question, my thought was ‘well, in no way did it. I mean it brought peace but that was only while I was there’. And so yes, I think the straight answer to this is it was a blessing for it silenced or quietened my soul. At the time, I was living in Karachi which in my opinion is a very fast, busy, dusty and highly disorganized city. Yes, you guessed it right; I am not fond of living in Karachi. I lived there for almost 4 years and the traffic irritated and pissed me off just as much on the last day of my time there as it did on the 1^st. What is more upsetting is Karachites take pride in that!! Well, I fancy visiting it for a couple of weeks or so every year or even twice a year but to live there is definitely a no-no for me. In contrast to this, Arusha was really quiet, peaceful and organized to a certain level. It did not have crowds or shops/restaurants and markets open till late night; it felt like I have traveled a few years back in time.

 

Whether we accept it or not, our hearts and souls need that cool-off every now and then. Our fast-paced lives have a tendency to make us forget that at the core, this world is a mere materialistic stop on the path of spirituality. When we visit islands or nature filled places, the mind’s focus changes from work or money to ‘life’ (and for those it still doesn’t, I feel sorry) and hence it appeals more to us. I have not heard anyone say they don’t like the beach; sure, they may not want to live on an island but definitely wish to spend time there; why? Because it brings that sense of balance, peace and belonging. We may not realize or accept it, but The Creator has created places where His presence is felt stronger than in other places; of course, He is everywhere but, in some places, it becomes easier to connect with Him. I find places like Arusha one of them.

 

On second thought, what did greatly affect me was the travel itself. I was on the road for a full 4 weeks; the longest I have been on a ‘travel’ away from home. I have always seen things as a piece of the larger puzzle or a stroke of His paintbrush on His canvas of our life, so I felt this was a sign of things to come. I learnt how to survive out of a suitcase and be very mobile. I flew between cities every 2-3 days, Alhamdulilah. Between meetings in the city or hotel, meals at airports, working at 36,000 ft and taking a nap in the car during commutes; I was the happiest I could ever be!!

Fast forward to 2020, one of the best decisions I took was to buy a bag pack, out of which I travel now. Although I haven’t done a major or International travel out of it due to Covid-19, I am doing 1-week travels in Thailand and for those who know how heavy I used to travel, this is a major transformation! I think I am being driven towards a point, where I will be able to do a full-time travel and just keep going; although it is tiring and tough. Even for wandering souls like myself, we like to come back to a point we can call ‘home’. There are many times when as I approach the end of the week, I feel exhausted and tired. I know if I was traveling full time, this wouldn’t happen but holding a 9 to 5 job yet being able to pursue travel is not easy. I am very grateful to be able to pull it off.

 

As I finish this piece, 4 months after I started it, I am seated outside my beach house, immersed in the sea breeze and listening to the loud sound of the waves (which I absolutely love!) at 0140. What is missing; Chai!!

Anyways, I hope I have done some justice to the piece and to respond in kind to the person who asked me the question. I do welcome more questions and hopefully I will get back with a response in a much shorter time period than I did take for the 1^st question.

Also, you don’t need to travel long distance to call it travel or find the silence. When I was in Karachi, a late-night walk around AKU did the same justice as a beach walk in Koh Samui does for me today; it is not about the location but the perception of it that matters. Keep traveling, there is no better way to expand the horizon, grow and learn! 

Peace!

Champ!

I miss you, sometimes only!

 Author's note: Although I thought I won't write any 'love' related pieces, however, lately, I have really been meaning to pen down this piece, which was meant to be a general "miss you" piece from one to another distant lover or ex but I ended up keeping someone in mind as I wrote it. Although this person and I were never 'together', she impacted my life in a great way. My advice, don't be like me and if you have someone in mind as you read this, reach out to them, have a conversation and even possibly, express that you miss them...

I miss you, sometimes; only sometimes!

Lately, I have been thinking about you, about ‘us’,

Once upon a time, there used to be an us,

And then with a blink of an eye, it all just disappeared,

If you remember, I always said we were ‘maktub’,

As much as coming close was written, so was parting,

But I honestly thought and felt we were stronger than this.

I mean our connection as two wandering souls,

As individuals, yes, we are very strong,

Focused, determined and honestly, extremely stubborn,

After all, we do have a lot of similarities,

I don’t know about you, but many a time I feel like saying hi,

I feel like telling you that I went through your page,

And I see you have travelled a little more than before,

I feel glad about that; I am happy for you,

I want to ask you about it, what you did, how you felt,

But I don’t pass the first hurdle itself, which is saying hi,

A lot of that is to do with she hasn’t said a word in months; she let go and so don’t bother; don’t chase shadows,

Yes, that is my stubbornness and my ego,

But a little part also reminds me how we connected…

 

Every once in awhile, I see your seen on my stories or like on a post,

And somehow, I think to myself ‘perhaps she will write to me’,

I ask myself ‘doesn’t she have questions about my drone; about my experience with it’,

And days pass by with absolute silence in the air,

And I come to terms, again, with the reality of our lives,

I am afraid gone are the days for us,

I deleted our WhatsApp convo, 

Remember, the one with all the starred messages,

So now I can’t go back and listen to your voice notes,

I avoid listening to ‘aj jaane ki zidd na karo’

I also reminded myself that you chose for us, not to be us,

So, if you do end up reading this piece, don’t think much,

I mean I know you won’t, it doesn’t matter to you,

I just wanted to say that I honestly thought we were better,

And yes, sometimes; only sometimes, I do miss you,

And when I do, I listen to our other song,

mujse pehli si mohobat mere Mehboob na mang…

 

 

 Peace!

Champ!

Strangers!! (Love or... Part 4)

Author's note: I am finally concluding this 4 part series on the theme of unrequited love, choosing to love and heartbreaks. The series was inspired by someone walking in and walking out of my life. Sometimes, I think she was a dream out of nowhere and hence faded away. I have lately written my pieces keeping her in mind and I think this one is perhaps the last one. I don't keep regrets and wish her nothing but the best.

“Sometimes you really have to get to know someone to realize, you are just really strangers”

She is most certainly fading,

From my existence,

And I am not trying to stop that.

It hasn’t been that long, to be honest,

Since that bitter conversation,

Yet I have managed to let her go, from my life,

But more importantly, from my thoughts.

I no longer check who viewed my Instagram stories,

I only did because I used to care if she had viewed them,

My heart used to blush to see her seen,

Of all those impossibilities I fell for,

Her, I regret; and oh, I don’t regret that often…

I ponder ‘why did it hurt so much?’,

How can someone miles away dig in so deep,

Only for me to then be drowning in that very hole.

And how did I let go of my walls so easily?

I guess I believe in omens way too much!

There are things or people my instinct drives me towards,

Or as others would call it, there is a ‘click’ with some,

And I see them as signs from He who is Above all else,

And I don’t block that… I live life in the moment,

I allow things to flow because nothing is without reason,

You know what she called it? ‘falling too easily’,

So naive of her to think that she was just another girl in my life,

Well she wasn’t up until now…

I am never going to drift from the way I lead my life,

Wandering is always going to be my signature,

And I will also not entertain being judged for it,

Just like no one, owes me, I don’t owe anyone either,

Especially not an explanation or justification,

We all walk different paths in our life,

And at some point, including the rebellious one,

None of us opted for it but life showed us a way to it, and,

Since the other paths only left us with hurt and disappointment,

We chose to try this one, and found it to be a tad less dreadful,

Truth be told, everyone craves to find the love of their life,

But always choose to walk away at the first sight of a potential,

We want loyalty and honesty but choose the ‘dangerous’ options,

Some can take the burden of their choice and stand up to it,

Most pin it on the other saying ‘my perceptions of you have changed’, or, ‘you are not what I need right now’…

‘We are all like a plank of wood in a massive ocean’, said the late Irrfan Khan once,

The waves move us in all the different possible directions,

And sometimes, we bump into other planks but not by chance,

‘Everything happens for a reason; it is maktub’ said Paulo Coelho,

The plank’s edges collide; some gently and some corrode,

Regardless of which, a part of the plank is transferred on each other,

A plank is never the same again after colliding with another one,

Very often, two planks will fit perfectly with all their imperfections,

And that is precisely what is known to the world as ‘love’,

It is perhaps the most dangerous of events with the highest reward,

If the two planks continue to float together, no obstacle is big enough,

But if either decides to let go, the other one drowns to a depth,

Sometimes so deep that recovery seems impossible,

But those that do recover, find other imperfect planks for them,

This cycle of collision, choice, letting go and moving ahead is life,

And I for one, have let her go, and I haven’t drowned!

At the start I seemed to though, but her words showed me I shouldn’t bother, 

So I took the next wave, flowing in the opposite direction…

'Tu jo na mila toh marjaunga Faraz,

Kitna haseen woh jhoot bolta tha'

Peace!

Champ!

4 Longg Years but I Remember!

Author's note: I began composing this piece last night as I was remembering Dad. The night of 17th and the whole of 18th, I become very numb. I couldn't finish this last night because I felt emotionally drained. Every atom of my existence was silenced as I was writing and it seemed every inch of me, burst out weeping so I had to stop.
Watching a mesmerising sunset from the pier next to my home, I have finally completed this.

"Chiti na koi sandesh, jane woh kaunsa desh, jahan tum chale gaye..."

Technically, I have traveled to 14 countries in the past 4 years; that is how long it has been since Dad left for another world! It feels much longer though!! Well, number 14 and I go a long way back, all the way to ‘91; when I was born on Oct-14. I also have 14 stiches on my forehead above my right eye; a reminder of how naughty and stubborn I was as a kid, or rather, still am! My favorite aunt was born on Dec-14 and oh, the first time I failed an Academic year, and Dad had to take a tough decision for me to relaunch my studies, well I was 14! We humans want to find reasoning and logic in everything…

18^th June 2016; the day my life changed forever. I have said it in the past and I shall repeat here again; I remember every single moment so well and clearly. I haven’t forgotten anything; absolutely nothing, and to be honest, I don’t want to either…

I remember talking to Dad for 17m, 24s. He had just returned from work but despite being tired, his love for me won. He stood outside and we spoke. It was raining that day so he must have been feeling cold as well; but a parent’s love always wins! I remember telling him ‘I am only a month away from meeting you. Do you want something?’ It was the season of mangoes in Pakistan so I told him I will bring that since he loved them. I remember him telling me ‘you come, that is it. I want nothing else’. I remember telling him that I love him. I remember telling him how grateful I was to have him as my father. Could there have been a better end to a final conversation, although I did not know it at the time? See why I always say, express your love because there is absolutely no guarantees of a tomorrow. Tomorrow is far, no guarantees of the moment ahead.

After the call, I remember how I was lying under a star-less sky with only the moon staring right at me. I remember how my instinct was telling me ‘something isn’t right, Rahim’. It was a family gathering and I remember my mind being somewhere far away. I remember the mood changing of the members and how I was taken downstairs to the room. I remember hearing my uncle’s words as he embraced me, ‘hausla rakhna hai apne ko, mama kay liye’ (you have to be/stay strong, for mom). 

I remember calling my boss to share the news. I had invited him to my homecoming party the next day; I remember how his tone changed; a change as though a sunrise turned to a sunset! I remember heading home to pack my bag to travel and just as I was doing that, I got a call from one of my childhood friends. She had lost her dad not so long back, so she knew what I was going through. She wanted me to be strong; remain strong!

I remember calling my best friend from the airport to share the darkest news of my life. I remember his silence the moment I told him, for it was a reflection of my soul, which had indeed shut itself too. I remember him posting on my Facebook timeline requesting everyone to give me space as I mourned the loss of a pillar. Shiraz has always known me better than others.

I remember traveling that night with a numb, frozen and silent heart; the longest travel of my life. I remember that immigration officer in Uganda, whose eyes teared when she heard why I had returned home. I remember her words to me as she returned my passport ‘may He give you all the strength in the world; you will need it’.

I remember hugging my mom for the first time as I stepped into my home; it was as though, she could finally cry to someone she knew understood the loss. I remember hugging a devastated, heartbroken wife, who spent all her life loving 1 man, who had passed away in her lap the night before. I remember my grandfather’s eyes, which had seen many souls pass but this one was one of his own.

I remember not wanting to see Dad until the day of the funeral because I knew, I’d break before it was time to break. I remember standing in that line as members of the community came to share their condolences. I had never in my roughest dreams imagined that feeling. I remember this 1 uncle who broke in my arms; he used to sit next to Dad in the mosque, something I did not know until that day. I remember him very well for he shared how proud my father was of my achievements. He said my Dad wouldn’t stop speaking of my accomplishments, be badminton, photography or the fewer travels I had done back then.

I remember my uncle traveling to Uganda from Mozambique – something that was a source of immense strength for me and I shall forever be indebted to him. I remember waking up that morning for the funeral and thinking to myself ‘it is only 4 to 5 hours Rahim, they will pass by quick’. I remember the lengthiest and heaviest 5 hours of my life.

The body is first shown to the family to have a private, intimate, final moment with the deceased. I remember walking into that room in 1 piece and coming out in shattered, countless pieces. I remember walking away right as I stepped in, just like paper burns to ash when introduced to fire. Even though I was strong, life never prepares you enough for the loss of a parent. How can it? I remember my uncle holding my hand to take me around Dad. Up until that point, I think my heart was hoping that this wasn’t true; as if it were a nightmare and I will wake up to him being around.

I remember being seated in front of his body and hoping the chest will beat anytime now! I remember reciting for him at the ceremony, with all my heart, however much I had left anyways. I remember my former boss, my mentor and more like an elder brother traveling to Uganda for the funeral – again, something I shall forever be indebted. I did not realize back then for obvious reasons but today as I reflect back, there were members of my family, who never expressed any intention of coming despite how close we were. I think as my Dad went, so did those relationships.

I remember that last final walk I took around his body. I remember lifting his coffin and not wanting to let go, as always, I walked on the right side of him. I remember the burial. I remember being completely still, quiet and frozen in one place. I remember placing just 1 flower, at the top where his forehead was. I used to kiss him good night, so I did that, one final time. 

As I walked away from that graveyard, I remember receiving all of his strength, which has forever stayed with me.

The next month when I went back to Uganda, I remember asking Isaac (my boda boda dude in Kampala) to take me to the graveyard. We stopped at the gate and I told him ‘take me home’. I wasn’t ready to go in. My feet just did not have the strength to do it!

It took me a year before I did it in Oct-17. On the last day of my trip, I went to see Dad. I spent 5 minutes with him in silence. Every time I go Kampala, Isaac takes me to see Dad, again on the last day. I think I have realized that the balance of my life is maintained by me seeing him, every 1 or 2 years. The last time I went to see him was Aug-19.

I am fortunate for I got the chance to tell him that I love him or even just talk to him, you might not so don’t waste time. Your dad, mom or even that special someone, don’t let these worldly distractions or fear guide you. Reach out today, reach out now in fact and tell them you love them or say the sorry your ego doesn’t want to because trust me, they never come back.

I want to end with the lyrics of a song my dad's elder brother used to tell me about...

"Zindagi kay safar main guzar  jate hai jo makam, woh phir nahin aate, woh phir nahin aate..."

Peace!

Champ!

Love or ... (Part 3)

Author's note: I had initially thought this would be a 3 part series but I think it will be more than that. There is still plenty I need to let go of my heart and in bits and pieces, I keep scribbling away. I share the following stanzas for the time being...

It feels odd and strange to be back in the game, isn’t it?

You look at a pretty someone somewhere and want to approach,

But your feet don’t move in the direction of your lust,

A simple ‘hello’ becomes quite a challenge for you to say,

As tough as the physics theory paper felt back in high school,

Your heart says, ‘you’re nuts for choosing your nuts over me’,

We all crave intimacy, so do you, nothing wrong, but this is anything but,

You still fantasize the two of you, walking along the beach on a full moon night,

Or seated at the shore, holding hands as the waves crashed into you,

A strong breeze blowing across to engulf you both in goosebumps,

And a lightening in the background would occur as your lips touched hers,

As if God were applauding you both from the Heavens saying ‘Maktub’

But there is no thunder anymore in life; literally and figuratively,

You gave her the you that was lost and shattered ages back,

And she has made sure to erase every last bit of him, forever…

She used to be the last thing on your mind at sunset and the first at sunrise,

But she is slowly fading and becoming the second thing,

For this, I am happy for you; for every ounce of your silent, shattered heart,

The truth is, you deserve to be with more than just shadows,

You deserve hands, which will fit and remain in yours despite the noise,

You deserve to walk with feet, which will not walk away at the first sight of attachment,

Or rather, the fear of attachment,

Love on the road of life is like fog and that can be very scary indeed,

But the blurriness is God’s way of making us choose the path,

We can choose the sunrise together as the path clears itself,

Or we can create a storm and lightening for the other,

I am afraid, she left you in the rain as she walked towards shelters,

But I don't blame her you know, though clearly, it looks like I am,

I made this very choice some years back, and I guess this is karma,

I turned down love for my freedom; she has done the same on behalf of those others...

Come to think about it, I think it was better to remain social media acquaintances,

I wouldn’t have ‘got’ her, even though temporarily it was,

But then, I wouldn’t have lost her either,

Perhaps I haven’t fully lost her as yet, but I am doing a fine job of it,

I am erasing every last shred of my existence from her breaths; her thoughts; her life,

And that does not make me happy or satisfied at all,

It hurts even more; way more than she can possibly imagine,

I’d want nothing more than to stabilize us, whatever remaining it may be,

But I am not sure she wants the same anymore, especially after what she said today,

She wasn't just another wave in my life; she was the ocean, the one I thought I'd never get!

And yes, perhaps I never deserved it, hence here I am, all alone, even rejected by her memory,

As I type this, I am seated outside my beach house in the middle of a storm,

The ocean is rough, and the wind is blowing everything in its path,

Not to forget the darkness all around due to a total cloud cover,

Allah is making me witness my life after her, right here, right now…

Peace!
Champ!