Deceptive alone-ness.

In movies they sometimes show this evolution inspired by some heart break or some words of discouragement said by someone.

That motivation that is felt can move mountains.

I have always found those motivation very moving but as soon as the episode or the movie ends, all that motivation ends with it.

At first I vowed to myself to make some movies that would show the elapse of that motivation.
I may still, but it will be after some years

A famous quotation is,’ we come in this world alone and die alone, we owe it to ourselves to find some company in between.’
The quote is something like this.

For us, humans, we never want to ever have to encounter this word, alone.
It scares the crap out of us.
How on earth would we survive alone.

So in vague attempts we always seek company of someone.

I believe, in this world, we are truly alone. Yes, we have friends and family. We talk to them, have precious memories with them but when minutes rather seconds before sleeping. Is there someone with you? Sharing with you, your thoughts?

No, no one seems to be there.

It gets a little frizzy.
We do not want to be alone, because hiding in the comforts of feelings, it’s very easy.

I am going to distract from the topic and explain the phenomenon of feelings and emotions.

I did a course some months ago, it was about the subjective mind and I was fairly surprised to find that all of the actions surrounding us in our normal day lives, every of those actions are a result of feelings and emotions.

They have more control over us than we’d like to admit.
There are some basic humans feelings, love, loss, fear, betrayal.
The most powerful of all is love.
The need to be appreciated and understood.
We all in this world, die for these comfortable sensations.
The feeling of not wanting to miss someone. The feeling of wanting to fight for yourself but now wanting to hurt the one you love.

Let me ask, in a relationship or a marriage, are we living the life of this love, to the mere and full extent?
Are we open to our partner, is the family we build or are born into truly is the definition of family?

We are not supposed to ask these questions, because they are very skeptic.

We have altered the concept of love and family.
We believe that we are in company of family. When in fact we are all alone.
We are not true or honest with them. There is a constant fear of being betrayed and back-stabbed that haunts in the shadows of us all.
How do you call that trust or family?

In our heads we have this confusion and mess and packed boxes that we have not yet opened. All because we are too busy trying to convince ourselves that we are not alone.
So, you see we are alone. We were manufactured that way and all our beliefs and emotions are always in motion to outstrip this contemporary instinct of the alone-ness.

No matter how much we try and not believe this evil of a truth, we still are, alone, fighting and dwelling in our own companies.

Life is sadistic and all but accompanied by nothing but problems that keeps one down at all moments.

Some grotesque moments of joy and happiness does not necessarily mean that the revelations of all that haunts us lifted instead it would rather suggest the heartily desires to put away all those problems for as long as possible.
After those prosperous moments everything returns whether we like it or not.

The old saying goes, time heals all wounds. People really change. People can end someone’s loneliness. Life becomes forever happy.

Not a devils, but rather your desperate disguise.

Interestingly, even when we know all these things, these hard facts, this constant hardwood goes against all the unequivocal believes that we have.
We still relinquish on the idea of someone, wanting someone to end our agony.
And when we fail to find them, then that begins a whole new level of utter disappointment settled by none other than our own precious desperate self.

As I say these words, write them down, I don’t believe in them whole heartedly.
I have spent nearly 3 minutes of your time, fabricating in your mind these wild truths, but even as I write them, I want nothing more than to just have someone and tell them all these things.

We are doomed beyond the devil in disguise.

There is nothing wrong in the concept of someone and love.
But I ask you, do you love yourself with the same passion you want someone to love you.

I believe, you are your biggest enemy but also your true family.

Why can’t, we ever be enough for ourselves?
Why don’t we crave ourselves?

That is, what’s wrong!
The need to be dependent on someone. The desire not to take charge. To deny the existence of alone-ness.

Are you not truly alone? Even with all your family and boyfriends and husbands and wife’s.

I know, your secret, you are alone.

Heart in the hand.

The agony of life,
unknown to the pleader of the cure,
the dreamers of ever after,
the cruelty that is has to offer.

to love is what we love for,
but what, of you give your loved one everything,
to everyone and everything and all that you get back in return,
a hole in your body, you bleeding with in-consumable pain.

The monster in the head,
the one we learn to hate,
the monster that they create,
by all those words of blame.

Whispering of the words such like,
cold and heartless,
speaking to you back,
worthless and alone.

The vessels of such ingredients,
pestled in a mortar,
now all that remains,
to take the body of the one they created.

A hand in the chest,
the heart in the hand,
now, read you with literal cautious,
for the heart,
in between those fingers.
squashed, drained,
from all that remained of you.

A heartless creature,
the one who loved none,
bare witness,
to the time, he loved all.


Here and now.

Mourning on the morning fresh breadth,
She sat across the window,
Blooming in and out through her nostrils,
As rain poured down the shattering glass.

The darkened hour,
A darker mind,
Boiling red flowing in streams,
Freshened by the wind that passes by.

The tress in motion,
Humming the most beautiful of all rhymes,
Passing its rhythmic chores,
To the dead of all those feelings.

A piece shattered into a million pieces.,
The obscenities of all the past,
A kingdom fallen into ruins,
Upheld the king, whimpering on the wind.

Harboring the ruins of that which has fallen,
Channeling the soothe calmness of the trees,
The king with all his open doors,
Let on the wind blew through him.

The leaves that were singing,
The rains that were whispering,
The heart ringing its gong,
And the man stood hearing,
I am here. I am now.

The rightful king.

It Is believed that there hides a monster in us all. Demons that ride us. There are some self of us that we have not let anyone see.

Those monster and demons doesn’t lets you do anything. They make you the villain of everyone’s stories.

In a land, same as this, there existed a girl. She was once pure. Her true self.
For that, she was often called a monster, feeling less.

One day, in some state she let herself go and became this new person.

A person everyone wanted. She gave her all. She loved everyone as if they were the last one that she could love. On and on it went, until one day, some years ago, she sitting on her desk realized, that the pain she did not feel was because too many people had hurt her and she had done everything in her power to stop from feeling those tedious betrayals.

All those people, to whom she gave her everything, each and everyone of them did their part in betraying her in the most unimaginable of ways.
And she, the little innocent villain, in her love, instead of feeling those betrayals and forming some ways of revenge and hatred, chose to not feel them, so she could keep on living them all people.

Startled by the reflection of what she saw in the mirror, a face, a strangers face, someone she could not recognize. The eyes that starred back were dark and only have away of further darkness to come.

She knew She had lost her self, someone she was. And now only darkness remained, one that wanted to swallow her whole.

She knew what she had to do, she needed to be in control. She had to be the villain everyone everyone deemed her to be.

But, that was not an easy choice. With it came, a far more difficult sacrifice. She had to give away her so called family.
A difficult decision, yet she decided.
In the woods, she confronted to the darkness that stood before her.

‘I shall be in control, in return I will find you the true self you lost,’

‘it is only fair, m’lady.’ Called a voice from the dark space before her.

‘I more thing,’ she began, ‘I shall be your king, not queen.’

Though, she could not see but she could feel the darkness smiling in awe of her.
Mustering up all the courage she had, she entered into this world of her own creation. There were these people, people she could finally trust. People she could easily love. There was no doubt of their loyalty to her.

She was finally with her family, the family she desired.

With their help, she set on the darkness to uncover what this darkness really was and why was it there, in her land, trying to take her throne.

The people honored and loved their King.

So, naturally they were bent on helping their King find the freedom, she wanted.

Guided to the mountains of all that has been repressed. She found all her darkest and deepest secrets there.

The memories she thought she never had.

The sinful ideas, she thought she had buried deep beneath every thing.

Lost in the her founding, the darkness came on behind her, there is stood, touching her, allowing her to feel all that was lost, and in one zoomed in view, the king finally saw the piece she had lost, long ago.

Her, true own self.

Her true self, which had leader her to the path of want has always been hers.

Returning back to her castle, she now ruled in peace and joy.

Not only that, one she had control, her kingdom, expanded to the extents where the imagination could only take. She had everything, every control of every body.

She was the right full king.

A lone warrior.

There once was a creature unknown to the Odessa of these humans. That creature, it lived in all those humans, silent yet consistent.

It’s name was, self demon.

Peeking through the mere eyes of humans, is how it fed its hunger. Everyone knew him, but everyone was so afraid of him to not acknowledge it or ever talk about him.

The rummaging of its name and everywhere, where it had no possession, trembled with fear.

It had a kingdom of its own, named conscious and subconscious.

These kingdom, beautiful places, were filled with memories and like all memories, some were happy and some were sad.

This self demon, it was a monster, looking for weakness to control. To weaken the warriors vessel it possessed.

It did not posses all humans, some were away from its grasps. Happy or not, no one knew because they were living in a deception of themselves.

Black was its color. It’s favorite color.

For in Black it could not see what a monster it had become and so on those kingdoms there was always darkness.

It was in the inner story, on the outer side, that warrior had to interact with other fellow humans and when he had tried to explain to them the monster that has been nurturing in the gut, they would say him to be a manipulator with the purpose to harm them of their good deeds.

He on the outside was named a sinister and the self demon would laugh with his teeth at that prospect.

Rejected from the outside world, he retreated to the kingdom of his, to seek some reconciliation.

Little did he know, self demon’s intentions.

Making him lose sight of his path in the darkness that he had cast, he a simple human walked on and on whilst the damsel demon, sucked away his feelings, he had for the people he loved.

The self demon, suppressed those feelings in his kingdom never to be found. But it did not stop at that. The demon, then poured rain of the loath and hatred.

Touching the barren interior of the fragile human, the rain invested him with its delicacies.

The warrior, weathered the storm, in ignorance of what was to come, isolation.

Self demon, played his next trick, isolating him from the peaceful hopes that his kin out there look for him.

The warrior stood at it too, thinking he was surviving it when in true, he was being broken to many and many pieces unknowingly.

Next, the warrior though to engage himself in decorating the kingdom that he now lived in, in doing so, he was handling over all his energy to the demon, making him all the more powerful.

In the mental state, such as this, his physical was not so strong either. What he faced in there, showed scars on the vulnerable body.

The people noticed it not, though.
One morning, but a night for the darkness, the warrior was walking without seeing his path. When, suddenly he stumbled on the demons den.

He entered. Looked around. He had been curious before, of who the demon was behind all its exterior.

He was shocked.

Pictures everywhere, personality traits being a positive match. Family and friends, positive.

The demon was none other than the lost true self.

-Naba Mehdi

Happy independence India and Pakistan!

The spirit of independence.
Since August 1, till today and mind me, it will end today at 12, like nothing took place. The Pakistanis will be in deep praise of their country.
They don’t let us forget it, our curriculum of how we became in power of this piece of land of sub continent.
In the mid 1800 when some leaders believed the Muslims were having a hard time living with the Hindus. This spite rose from where, no one knows.
British as always came to India as a trading company and set its ground to rule. They ruled but soon the Hindus and Muslims combined seized to overthrow them. The attempt was in vain but soon afterwards, British rulers gave all their power to the Hindus and Muslims started resenting everyone not of their religion.

Before any of this happened, Hindus and Muslims used to live as brothers and sisters. The Hindus celebrated Eid and Muslims celebrated Diwali. No one could have guessed them to be any different from each other.
Slowly everything went ballistic, no one could tolerate anyone anymore. In their hearts, they still loved each other but the society of then forbid them to acknowledge each other.
The Hindus killed Muslims, but the Muslims also killed Hindus. Both lives were lost.
It happened and happened and happened and then one day, my great grandfather came to my grandmother and her mother, took the money their hands could keep, 2 clothes for each and they ran out of their homes.
Only this easily, this all happened. She came across the border, to Pakistan and a new life for her started. A better life or worse, we can’t judge. Had she stayed there, things wouldn’t be much different, I would still maybe born, and instead of today, I’d be writing this tomorrow, celebrating not Pakistan’s but India’s independence.
The Mughals were Muslims too, but they were real kings and rulers, who did not dwell on the religion but Rather to rule.
It all started from their. Because they were Muslims, the Muslims believed that the sub continent even after their fall, should be in their hands. As a legacy to be passed on.

To look at India and Pakistan, after 69 years of independence.
Pakistan these day is not fighting India but still the fight is on going and there has been more casualties than in 1947.
India is not better, over population, hunger, poverty. Much like Pakistan.
Did the separation really was a good move? Had both the Pakistan and India be in better shapes? These are questions, we are not allowed to ask.
The answer is to turn a blind eye, and believe that India is nothing but the biggest enemy. And by no reasoning they can ever be as good and pure as compared to we are.
My family relatives living in India, who are Muslims, rejoice their country. They believe they could have lived in a better country than India.

14 August, a day celebrated as independence day. But in reality, Pakistan indeed got its independence on 15. The same as India.

Pakistan is an Islamic state, but more than that, it is a piece of land, that is to be always inhibited by people, irrespective of their religion or believes.
But it is not to neglect that Pakistanis do not treat non-Muslims justly. Asiya Bibi is shamefully an example of such torment.
Yet, in full ignorance, we will today, celebrate our beloved Pakistan’s independence. Fireworks and the young spirits will be our of bounds today.
Lets hope, the feuds of the two brothers, who once had nothing but love for each other, will one day end and may we be independent of the hatred that possess us.
And that will be the happy independence day, Pakistan!

Being stubborn.

Being stubborn.

They say to be stubborn is a wrong trait. I Don’t believe with them.
Being stubborn is standing for what You believe in. Being stubborn is to fight or heart’s desire.

I don’t know think that is in anyway wrong.

This is how this deceptive world works, to Condemn all that holds meaning. And us, little fools, we always fall for this trap.

Stay stubborn.

Be stubborn.

Fight in the name of your own self. Distinguish the line between humanity and slaying yourself and stand Stubbornly in that line fighting for honor of those poor souls yet all the same never let harm come to you.

Only now have I realized the importance of self. The hunt and craving for self.
I know The world Scares you. I know you know what to do but the fear has deep roots.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Close your eyes, Imagine yourself in your Safe place. The guardian you put there is telling you the same.
Stay stubborn. Tell the world to shove it.

-Naba Mehdi