Death of a friend.

SEPTEMBER,2013.

It been three years to that day. We don’t talk about it. None of us. They show it in movies and books of the trauma when you have someone you know die.

I have never written about it. I’ve meant to but i never did.

Three years ago, in grade 9, we had our chemistry exam and after it, we all went to the cafeteria, we all stood there, ordered what we wanted to eat and went on our ways. They went out. Left school. About 45 minutes later, 3 from 4 of them were dead. One of them was in a coma.

Areeb, Talha and Sheraz were dead. Zohaib was alive but barely.

How is it you see someone and then 45 minutes later they are dead. I mean they are dead. Really, dead? I knew Zohaib and Areeb for 9 years, I have memories with them and they still haunts me. Zohaib died too three days later.

I never wrote about it because people might say I wasn’t friends with them anymore. You see, in my part of the school, they separate boys and girls. Once you separate them in grade 7, does not mean you stop them from having those 7 years of memories. I talked to them too.

Last few conversations I had with Zohaib were of us fighting but no one knows about them because they were over Facebook.
I still remember the time, when we about to separate and Areeb was sitting in the row ahead of me and he was constantly fighting with the girl next to me. I was paired up with Areeb on that.
Or when I caught Zohaib with phone and I threatened him that I’ll tell the teacher and he said with the sparkle in his eyes, the naughty face, go ahead if you dare.
And there are millions of other memories. Siting together in class, passing each other by, small talks, making fun of some and those millions seconds we spent together.

I remember them. I remember them all. Just because I wasn’t talking to them in their last days does not mean I did not know them at all. I knew. I grew up with them. I grew up with Zohaib telling tales of the fun he had when his family was together.

I can not forget that. Because I am a girl and they were boys does not mean I don’t miss them. I miss them. All of them. Even Sheraz, who I hated but I even had memories with him.

You think you ever get over something like that. You don’t. You never do. Three years later. Five years later. You still miss them. You still remember them. The memories are there.

But the worst part is, you don’t know why it hurts. There are other people, you know for a long time and then you stop talking. You all move forward in your lives.

But the feeling of the dead. It leaves a whole inside of you. You get trauma one day. Years later maybe, but you do. You sit at 3 am in the morning, typing at your laptop, with here and there a few tears flying through.

It’s the worst kind of pain. I can not explain it. It’s something so bad, so hard and you know it, in your objective and subjective, brain and mind but it doesn’t hurt. There is no weighing over the heart. You feel no pain. You are closed to it. To the pain. Your body is closed to it yet somehow, somewhere you don’t know it still hurts. You feel pain without actually feeling anything.
It’s a crazy kind of thing but I do see Zohaib’s face sparkled with smile, while teethes flashing and so wide that they are reaching his eyes.
How do you not feel something like that, yet you feel it.

I remember them. We remember them. None of us talk about them, still we remember them.

-Naba Mehdi.

I had just woken up and did not want to get out of bed. Turning on the internet on my phone, i rolled over and closed my eyes. The phone buzzed, indicating notifications. It was not until i checked my email and saw that i had been nominated for an award. I did not know that there excited such a thing or that I, out of no where would get nominated.

The special thanks goes to:  https://discoveringmadras.wordpress.com/ – for letting me feel this fablous feeling and making me hungry for more awards!
Its an honor really that i am not worthy of yet.

The people that i further nominate are:
https://ayushijoshi13.wordpress.com/
(I’ll add more link later).

1. What would you say your spirit animal is? Why?
Dog. Their loyality, freedom, innocense and the wildness where need be.
2. What is your favorite literary genre?  Give one book example.
I absaloutely dig classics! They are love.
Pride and prejudice!
3. If you could eat only type of food for the rest of your life, what would it be?
Pizza!
4. Describe your blog using 3 words.
Into the depths.
5. Are you a homebody or a gypsy at heart?
Hail-Ho gypsies!
6. If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be?
Why one place? I would like to see the whole world. Take pictures and then write blogs about them.
7. If you could meet any 5 people in the world (living or not), who would they be?
-Patrick Dempsey.
-Jane Austen.
-Sigmund Freud
-Bob Marley.
-Lionel Messi.
8. What is your favorite holiday?
All holidays are my favourite.
9. If you could travel to any time period, when would it be and why?
The middle ages. When people had to fend for themselves. Use daggers and swords. No cemented houses. When every man was for himself. When hardworking really meant, for survival, not for buying snacks after dinner.
10. What is your happiest memory?
They are too many and not enough.

Random facts about me:
1. I am a maths student who studies brain in her free time.
2.I get weird vibes through seasons.
3.I wish i was born in stone age.
4.I can never delete pictures.
5.I want to live in a room where all the fours walls would be covered with books.
6.I want to discover this world to it’s depths.
7.I want to make so many movies and seasons.
8.I want to get married when i am 40.
9.I love the pain when you are love someone but can not be with them.
10.I love Mr. Darcy.
11.I can never get over the death of Derek Shepherd.

Cheers!
For the people I nominate!

1. What would you say your spirit animal is? Why?
2. What is your favorite literary genre?  Give one book example.
3. If you could eat only type of food for the rest of your life, what would it be?
4. Describe your blog using 3 words.
5. Are you a homebody or a gypsy at heart?  
6. If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be?
7. If you could meet any 5 people in the world (living or not), who would they be?
8. What is your favorite holiday?
9. If you could travel to any time period, when would it be and why?
10. What is your happiest memory?
11. When blogging, what is your beverage of choice?

-Naba Mehdi.

Control of the mind.

Are you in control of your mind, or is it in control of you?? 

Us human beings are extremely dependent No matter how much we claim the words of being independent, we never fully grasp up to it.

What are we if not out minds.

Lets consider a scenario:
You are siting watching a movie or reading a book. At the same time you also have a bowl of cereal with you. Now all your attention is at that movie or book and unconsciously you are eating that bowl.
You did not tell yourself to do so. You only had a bowl in your hands.
You did not tell yourself (as you are your mind), to take even the first step towards eating that.
Your brain put together the information –
a bowl full of food.
stationary at a place.
Without any command it just did what it thought best.

Another scenario:
You are quarreling with someone. He seems to be going to the extents to annoy you. You feel annoyed and suddenly you slap him.
After the slap has taken place you realize what you have done. It is only after the moments of your hands you think of them and decide if that was infact the right choice or not.

So, who is in control? You are your mind. Does your mind have a life of itself?
The logical explanations for both the scenarios is the function of brain. But we are not talking about the brain.
In daily life routine, we do not consider brain,we consider mind (the subjective being).

For me, I think it might just be my mind in control of me. It knows better than me, after all. It might just be the case with us all, I think.

It applies in daily life too. We are tired and lazy. Fighting through everyday lives and at the end of the day, we are so tired that we do not take charge of our minds, rather we let them be. We know deep down they are a tough job. Being in charge of them is a hard job and a full time too. And when does anyone says yes to hard work?

Our minds on the other hand, they know his truth true. They know the true nature of their bodies and so they hold the reins but offer them to us when we think about it.Sadly, we see these reins and steps backwards,shaking our heads. Such a hard burden it would be to take charge of our minds too.

It’s funny, how I thought of it.
I was trying to get that mind palace technique. I was following through steps and trying to imagine what my storage place would look like. I was trying but not really. The voice in me was telling me to drop it because it was hard work.
I tried to do but failed. Then it hit me, I need to be in charge to get this done. I need to own my mind. To be the king of my realms. I can’t make a palace in a place I am to lazy to take charge of. It’s tiresome and I have yet not done it.Yet not taken charge of my mind because I feel it to be a huge responsibility.
And I am lazy.

-Naba Mehdi.

Tea Cups.

I do not know about the world but from where I am and what I observe very frequently is something not fair.

You see, I am the eldest daughter of my house. So, traditionally it is my obligation to help my mother in her household duties. Now, I don’t have any opposition to that,  I can do it, my only problem is why aren’t your sons supposed to do the dishes and only daughter.

But that is not what I am talking about in my blog tonight.

It happens, whenever someone come by our place, we serve them. Happens everywhere.
In my house, today, some carpenters came by, they had to do some work. They did work for our house, which we ought to have done but rather we had them do it. Anyway, i made tea for them, having never met them before, I asked my mum to ask them of the amount of sugar they’d like? Instead of asking them she just said, make it one and a half. How did she know? She’s never met them before either.

Another scenario is, some guests come by, I make tea for them, I ask my mum for the amount of sugar in their tea, now instead of telling me herself, she asks them all, politely, the kid my age or her father or her mother.

Why did she ask them and not the carpenters. She’s never met any of the parties before, How come she judge any of them without knowing anything about them in the first place.
Hoe come she trust one party and not the other.

It’s all about the respect. How did she know that the carpenters weren’t worth the respect that she gave the other guests and guests were the guests worthy of the respect?

Because the guests were rich and had a place in society? What if they got it by all the wrong means?
And what if those carpenters had a difficult life and did their best but all they could get was true means of hard-work and earnings.

And then she says, she’s a fair person. That at least she gave tea to them.
I am not disrespecting my mother. All the mothers does it. I bet fathers would too if they were in-charge of the kitchens.

That is not justice by any place. That is discrimination.

And if we can do it on such a small level and then we think about how much we do it on bigger levels?

They are just small things, passing us by in our daily lives, going unnoticed.

-Naba Mehdi

A Book Of Short Stories.

The analogy goes, Life is a book and each day is new chapter or a new page.
I agree to disagree. Life maybe a book but in books, (this analogy is mostly applied to novels), each begin of a chapter or the page, moves on a certain story forward. Their is some specific story that moves on, taking the characters to the next stage of their lives.

Our lives are not like that.

Each day when we wake up. We don’t begin with where we left from the previous day, rather, we make up our minds once again, we make them run at the same pace, we set our clocks, because what we had in minds the previous day is now gone, dissolved into stardust. We have to set them again taking enormous amount of time to set them to the task we left the previous day.

So, it’s more like a book of short stories. Our lives are a series of short stories. Each day is not a chapter or a new page rather the beginning of a new story. Same characters, same author, different adventures.
Like that of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Sherlock is a series of short stories. His cases, numerous in amount. They are round about 66.
This means, that Sir Arthur, in his life time, wrote to us about 66 days of his life time. More than most people can put down. I am sure too that he would even have more in that brilliant mind of his to write down for us but life happened to him.

Life is a complete book,  A book of short stories. Each day is a new story.

Now, I know most people don’t like the sound of short stories. I don’t too.
Lets think of something else to define it by but in the mean time, lets all complete our short stories and not leave them to be completed in the morrow, because then it never is completed..

-Naba Mehdi

Always.

It’s really amazing how writers can take a word and give it meaning in more depth than anyone thinks possible.
And it doesn’t even end there. Once it’s set on that path, its inevitable for it to ever fail. It goes on and on, that same word, used again again with more love each time.

When those who write it, scribble it on the page, tears start rising up in their eyes, their blood stops flowing for a milli second, to admire those words scribbled. That’s the satisfaction, they feel inside their hearts. A Which settled on their hearts when they took the pens in their hearts, slowly evaporating bowing to them for their justice, to be replaced by a new sort of weight. And that weight doesn’t seem to be a weight at all because of the overflowing rushing of adrenaline up and down their spines.

That what the writers feel.
The readers feel something familiar too.

When in moments of their characters get together under one roof, with in inches of each other. The heart start beating a little faster than usual. They start reading the words a little faster too, in search of some drop of love or hope shadowed by the characters. That hope is for them really, to nurture their own love that they keep hidden under these layers of blood and skin for someone like they are reading.
And suddenly. It happens. Their eyes fall on that word, they’d be looking for all that woken night. When they should have been asleep but were rather developing darkness underneath their eyes for just that 6 letters combined together.

Always. It Always, happens. And maybe that’s what love Always requires too.

Always, right? Rings a bell??
It should too.

When Dumbledore asked,
After all this time?
Always, he whispered.

Or when,
Katniss asked Peeta,
Stay with me?
Always, he replied.

And that time too,
When Nathan and Haley made their wedding vows,
Always and forever.

Feel your hearts racing all these times?? Either hearing them in others voice or reading them in yours.
Your heart wanders from the grasps of your mind. Where everything is happy and hopeful. Where there is no air, rather love. When you feel hope for yourself. That maybe  love is what always remains, even when we desiccate.
That’s what always rings in your ears. Making you hear your heartbeat in your ears and shining your eyes with water.

At least, I feel this. When Shape says, always or Peeta replies, always.
And then there is this. We ourselves made this word reach our zeal. With feel for this like this and use it like this.

Makes me feel alive, always.

-Naba Mehdi

Naba Mehdi

From Infinity to Nothingness.

From infinity to beyond, but beyond where? What can possibly come after infinity. Nothingness, the precise destination.

On a field, one day, nothingness met infinity. Infinity had doubts, nothingness was drunk. Unknown of their desires they became acquainted. A tête-a-tête was held, never to be forgotten.

Nothingness:People are so busy in their own that they ain’t bother to take time out for                                    others. It’s a sad truth these days.
Infinity:           In the heart of all men is solitude.
Nothingness: In the heart of all hearts where nothing is everything and everything does                                  not exist.
Infinity:           But blossoms are sowing there, ready to be hatched.
Nothingness: Butterflies has to go through a process of nothingness to get wings and
then the rain drops are unpredictable.
Infinity:           Unpredictable is what makes it all the more interesting.
Nothingness: People are killing their blossoms unknowingly and making concrete
routes over into lead them into the land of nowhere. For me it’s
unpredictable a spice of life but some are allergic and some of lost taste.
Infinity:           Oh, but there is a reason behind that too. It is just for the love of the
people that they shadow themselves in those concrete walls to prevent
their love for the scarcity of the battle fought within.

                           In unpredictable, there is a guarantee of pain. For us a life of happiness
is not a path we choose rather we choose the path less traveled by.
Anyway, sun everyday would just bring drought.

Nothingness: life is not to battle but cherish the calmness of love and spread the
aroma of blossoms inside out.
Infinity:           Love can never be calm. If it is, then it is not love. It is just the
beginning of a new kingdom and in every kingdom there has to be some
battles fought.
Nothingness: why not choose the fragrance and sensuous if we get the chance to do
rather than lurking for a cover for the inner peace armor if know of a
real battle.
Infinity:            Fragrance and sensuous is just gonna get to distracted. Chances are hard
to come by in battles and real battles are fought within not outside.
Nothingness: love can never want to win a battle but to unleash the counterpart. It
never lurks at the throne but lays as to nurture each bud to its bloom.
Infinity:           Then what again is love? Deception of heart and mind. We have the
escalated the meaning of it, it’s much more than we think it is.
Nothingness: Fragrance and sensuous comes from inner peace and then whatever
battle does not matter.
Infinity:           Maybe the battle is to attain inner peace after all.
Nothingness: love is to unleash yourself and let yourself be another one and you be
the mentor and you be the rainfall and give wings to another other.
Infinity:           But to communicate it is a language that has to be understood without
words, this is what makes it all the more complicated.
Nothingness: For me the battles is a job that can’t be done without inner peace and let
yourself be hanged for nothing. For me it’s the extreme other end.
Instead love has claws of iron that can never rot. Why remember the
names of enemies when you get butterflies in rain.
Infinity:           Because enemies bring us close to butterflies.
Nothingness: Love can’t be inculcated or scratched out and language is not the only
come but one to the other. A silence has language to but again its not the
words that matter but the gesture. It’s the curiosity to get wings like
butterflies that brings us close to ourselves and in the deception we think
of us as enemies.
Infinity:           and we are so poor on vocabulary.
Friends are the closest enemies.
Nothingness: So build it with the fragrance around and work on gestures as it’s the
shield afterwards. Make it scented as a bloom that your drown in the
scent.

                          Three different words.
Friends.
Enemies.
Closest.
Infinity:          But their are no real enemies. It’s one’s bad side which he chooses to
show their love to make them confident on their being right.

Nothingness: From infinity to beyond.
Infinity:         Into the supreme stage of nothingness.

And now the fancy passes by,
And nothing will remain.

-Naba Mehdi

 

Anatomy Of Everything.

I have chosen this name, anatomy of everything for my blog and it is also a my tumblr name and others too. I was thinking of how many don’t understand its meaning for me or why I’ve chosen it.

When I was trying to decide my I knew i could only do it once so I had to be careful. I thought about it for quite some time before finally putting in my decision.

So, Why I chose anatomy of everything?
Because,
Anatomy signifies what’s inside, into the depths. Now there is not any specialty of mine that I write according to, type of a genre so I thought, Why not write about everything. S many things to different stature pops into my mind, why not write about them all.
And so thus, I named it this and began writing about all these things, all the feelings that I feel, about the darkness I sometimes feel surround me and a feeling of hollowness that makes me feel worthless. I chose to write about them all.

I choose to write about everything.

-Naba Mehdi

How to save a life?

That’s the question, ain’t it?
How to save a life.

We never really get to this question because we are held on before it by it’s accomplice. Saving a life is a doctor’s job, we all think, that only they alone are capable of saving someone’s life.

Wrong.

Let’s rewind a little to how i got to feeling this way, the feel to safe someone’s life.

There is this season Grey’s Anatomy, most of us are familiar with it., those who are not, it’s a american show on life of doctors. I watched this season and to this day for the past 7 years, I’m with it. Certain feeling and vibes I get from it, I can see the solutions to my problems by just watching this season. I’m that accustomed with it. There is this Doctor Derek Shepherd, he died in the season last year. I am not a medical student but I study neurology because he, Derek was a neurosurgeon, he had this line he used to say before all this surguries, ‘It’s a beautiful day to save lives, people.’

That’s it, those were his words that moved me and millions of lives out there. They even named the episode in which he died, how to save a life.

His words have stuck with me to this day, it’s my motto of each day, I think about it all the time as to how many lives will I save and how to save them.
I am even working on a novel named as same.

I am not going to be a doctor. So how can I possibly safe lives. I can. There is no one way to do it.
Anyone can save lives if they want to.

For me it is and will be through writing.
I write to the best of my power and I want to excel each day. Unfortunately, I do not have guidance so I make do with myself on the very best. But I feel that somewhere on this Earth, someone might be lost and haunted and reading me would be their solace.
That I might be just what they need and my writing would touch their soul which will guide them on the path they knew but was hidden by darkness in them.
That will be a life saved.

Doctors save lives on the critical basis. On life and death matters. There is always something before that leads onto the way for life and death urgency. I want to be that person, who mends life so that they might not have to go to the doctors.
I want to be a savior of mind and soul which constitutes life in the end.

How will I save those lives?
Just through the tiny specs of my words.
They are not my words, they belong to them alone, I can only borrow them to and arrange them in such a way that may save lives.

Everyday, is a beautiful day to save lives, people!

-Naba Mehdi

Brothers and Sisters!

Okay, here goes my other being great for person.

I have always wanted an elder brother. I write before too as how in my family cousions are brothers too.
So, I have this brother. He’s years older than me.
He’s always been moody and in his own world. When I was a kid I used to pray that he might talk to me coolly and not in anger. Almost everyone in our family is and was scared of him. I was so that I could not talk to him without stuttering.
One day I stopped being sacred.
I don’t know how it happened but it did, now I can talk to him about anything without being scared and still many people in my family, can’t.

Awais bhai, kind of my role model.
I mean, I really do want to be like him when i grow up!
People criticize about him. Almost everyone in our family does too. They say he’s moody and have an attitude and all sort of stuff but they don’t get it he’s depressed. He’e been in depression for all his life, because he cares that much, because he it hurts him when people around him are sad.
He pretends too that it doesn’t matter to him of what people say of him for he is making his own life but it hurts him. I want to be as strong to be able to pretend that too.

It happens really that you find people like that in your life. Who you can relate to because they’ve been through the same as you, because they understand your pain and know how much it can kill you, and then they motivate you. Try to being out the best in you. That’s the kind of warriors you want in your life.
Who enter adulthood and still hold on to that inner world of theirs.

He’s my brother, yet he lets me do things most brother wouldn’t let their sisters do. He’s the only one I actually listen to. Whose words always move me from the inside.
That’s what a good brother is like.

Maybe this is stepping out of the line or going to far. But this bloging area is my world! No one who’d stop me knows about it. I need to own it to the people of my world of how great-full I am for such a brother.
This is my world and I am showing them a piece of me.

He is a warrior and I am to be a fighter!

Thank you, Awais bhai!

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-Naba Mehdi