Up, up and Away!

Alhamdulilah, things are finally beginning to sort out. The "solid" sense of faith slowly returns, bringing along the mesmerizing feeling of the Almighty's Love and my love for Him. An amazing source of strength was found in these words. Dude's got it completely figured out, MashaAllah. I love how he lays out the process and emphasizes the need for spirituality.
On a parallel note, been working with the principles of The Sedona Method. Basically, the book by Lester Levinson which talks about our Self as an infinite, unlimited being. What Lester refers to is actually the soul, or Rooh in Arabic. He states that this Self is independent of the body or mind and does not know any limitations. Thus, he says nothing is impossible to happen around us. 
In fact, these are the characteristics of the Ashraf-ul-Makhloqat, the highest of all beings, that the Almighty has made us. Our limitations come only at the point of being His Creation. However, we have the aid of the Creator Himself and thus nothing IS impossible to happen around us.
Moreover, Lester talks about the concept how things are already perfect around us and within us, because we are this unlimited Self. Thus he says, if we think the world's working against our will, it is truly our thoughts that make us see it so. He insists that we stop our thoughts, "quiet the mind" so as to release this perception in order to realize our perfect Self. 
How I see this, the Almighty has in fact the best plans and all around us, they are unfolding. Hence, negative suspicions, or these destructive thoughts, are actually forbidden Islam, as is depression and hopelessness. When you genuinely believe in the Almighty's Perfection and in the Perfection of the world around you, where is the space for a lacking or a deficiency of hope?! When a lacking doesn't exist, why must it be filled? In order to stop the process of thinking and conjuring up a list of the lackings in our mind, I find that the Islamic way of meditation provides the best method of "quieting" the mind while feeling the harmony and Love for the Almighty.
Now the book by Lester discusses the concepts in great detail as it follows the journey of Lester discovering them himself. I have condensed it, perhaps with little justice to his words, into an explanation of my basic understanding. 
Nevertheless, my point here is that the more I read about how we must let go and let God (one of Lester's phrases again) the more I realize the importance of Tawakkul and Spirituality that I must now (about time!) realize within me. Alhamdulilah for being born with the gift of Islam in my household.
I love Allah and I must now solely be the witness of what His Love makes me do in this World and in the HereAfter. 

Subtle Sense

It's the calm after the storm.. They've all been working, praying to calm it, calm me. It's just a fear, I know.. a fear of whether this is yet again, the calm before a storm.. whether the worse is yet to come, or worser yet, it's here. But, Alhamdulilah, it's not. It's over. There's no more turmoil and very little upset. Nothing actually to be termed an upset. Just natural processes, humanly steps.. Why is it almost difficult to accept that there's no more to be anxious about? I haven't always known things to be so chaotic, I've been more used to the calm state of being, Alhamdulilah. Then why does that recent disturbance more real than it actually is? 
Maybe it's because I was taken off guard.. but then again how O-n-T-h-e-A-l-e-r-t can a person be? It's destiny after all, it's life. And the Almighty is our only stable connection to hold on to.. Why on Earth would I look elsewhere for strength?! I won't. Perhaps one of the greater gains I'm rooting for here, is to come out of this soon, and with a much stronger faith InshaAllah. That's the lesson here, I believe: the need to believe harder with deeper faith.
So here's a general request to my non-existent readers, please pray that Dudey strengthens her bonds with the Almighty and settles into her daily routines with a greater sense of Him, drawing strength and peace all through. (Amin).

Happy New Year :)

Yes, for those of you who think I'm a little ahead of the times, I don't mean the upcoming new year on the BC calender but the Islamic New Year! An addition to count of the Hijri.. In remembrance of a Great Journey, made by the Greatest of People, the Beloved Prophet Muhammad (SAWS)... 1434 years ago, He migrated to the City of Madinah to spread the message of His Lord. May the Almighty guide us towards a life based on his principles and Sunnahs. Amin.

Beginning the New Year with a fresh approach: Been facing some fears this past week that require my sole reliance on the Almighty... a strong faith basically.. So the added perspective to that is:

I'm in the hands of the Almighty,

One of His Many Mesmerizing Creations is This: 

I'm Gonna Be Fine  ;) 

Crispy

Fresh and frozen, the memories are just another reminder of a new day.
It's a commitment, true, to get through as you want, but actions do Really speak louder than words.
And at the end of the day, the actions are what will matter. You can write up a whole album of songs for me but you need to get the melody right, with your practice and dedication - music to my ears.

Flippin' Me

Dudey's heart is a grain in the hourglass. 

It keeps flipping back and forth between the two halves - in the future waiting to become present or in the past buried by the present. 

It keeps floating up and down - in the peaceful solitude or in the distrusting isolation.

It keeps being turned around - a new direction, a new era, a new emotion every time. 

Here we go again..!

[Ok so I know it's sort've rude to promise to write blogs more understandable to my readers and then never write back again! In my defense life, has been throwing too many curve balls and splitters at me and if you've played baseball (atleast on Wii, like me) you'd know those are the hard ones to hit home runs on.]

Back to this blog, today I go back to making my famous impressions in the blog world *aalll hail dudey* =P

On a much more humble note, I've been reading this book named "Zen in the Art of Writing" by Rad Bradbury. No, not for this esteemed blog but because finally in my degree for media studies I get to write a creative piece! (It's been essays and research papers so far =X) And I want this piece to paint a word picture of whatever my creativity directs me towards.. (yeah still haven't decided the exact topic) I want it to be something where the words flow and I do not put in great effort to find the right word every two seconds..... and this blog is good practice :P

What I found as a downfall of reading this book so far, and I've gotten only past the first chapter, is .. the first chapter! It's named 'The Joy of Writing'. Like Hello?! Excuse Me.. A Fat Ass " DUHH!!" Coming Through! Why would I be reading about achieving peace as you write........... when I already feel the frikkin' Joy of writing!!!! =@

*Sigh* Nevertheless, time flew through an Absolute-Masterpiece I read recently "The Last Lecture" - the book by Randy Pausch. Had already watched the lecture but this book gave me so much more perspective! Loved his writing style and hope to develop enough of a similar style too. And seriously, wherever you are.. whoever you are... we all come together in this one moment where I ask you to .... READ THAT BOOK! (but watch the lecture first!)

Lastly, I hope to able to blog every day now, as a healthy appetizer to my meal of thesis and creative pieces... followed by a desert of an essay... all due in January that's when things go *burp*.

Ok so having skimmed through Randy's words just now, I'm inspired to leave a few pearls of wisdom here - coming from the past months of hullaballoo and all hell-breaking loose - followed by utter peace :

Such times DO occur where you need to hold on tight to your seat and wait for the ride to get over rather than finding the logic behind every twist and turn. To know when it's that time, is truely a gift from the Almighty. 

Alhamdulilah.

Along the window pane..

It's like we've a glass window in between.. they can see me, I can see them. but we can't cross over to the other's worlds.. I try to, for the sake of helping in some meek way, to get how things are for them.. but they, they can only wonder what's going on on my end.. and they are scared I know, because of the way they stare in with their fearful eyes... hoping nothing blows up on my end, because of what i see in theirs...
I wanna break this window.. I wana crawl through and tear open the reality for them, to shatter thrones and toss crowns.. I wana indulge in what i've been watching for ages...
I don't wana turn my face away from the window.. how can I? it's my only connection to them.. to "Us" .. to Me and Them together, as a unit.. No why the heck would I look away? How self-obsessed and conceited would that make me?
Yet they yearn for me to look away... Why? Just so I hold onto the innocence a little longer, just so I'm a little less wise, a little more naive? That mostly okay when time is all they need to fix things, but no.. they DO need me now to be with them, next to them... not just for the moral support but for the frikkin' sense that's been distributed amongst us .. in a way that one lacks what the other has... we need to contribute and cooperate..
Forget about the hurt, leaving one of us out.. leaves out a part of the common sense we together reign with..
The only thing this window seems to be creating.. is a subtle yet pulsing, everlasting oblivion in me.. and that can't be good, can it?

Gigantic-ville

A couple of summers ago, I watched the early seasons of Smallville (and left it at that, don't judge me =D). And I remember this scene where Chloe tells young Clark Kent that he vents out his sorrow by doing heavy-duty chores on his dad's farm. Hah! I'd thought. Who does that when they're sad? If they were angry I'd understand.. You'd wana throw about a couple of haystacks.. but the sad emotion is more of a subtly pulsing yet chaotic one for me and I always assumed everyone had the same wana-stay-away-from-Planet-Earth feeling as me.
My assumptions came to an end today.. A certain unwanted, sad, feeling had emerged this morning as I sat at work.. The realization of an aspect of my life, that I had realized last week but No! my brain decided to reset the realization from square one.. It's been doing that lately with too many emotions.
Anyways, focusing on this sad feeling for now.. As it grew overwhelming strong, what did I do? Indulge in food for comfort? No. Sleep off the sorrow? Negative. Go watch the sunset? Not at all.
Of all the possible channels for my sorrow, I decided upon..... changing the setting of the Entire Library at our house!! That's 7 Full-sized, Jam-packed Bookshelves!!!
Today's the only day I have to finish the job. Plus my mom, obviously, expects the books to be arranged chronologically/ as per the serial number/ alphabetically and in all other sorts of arrangement options existing.
What was I thinking?! I DON'T KNOW! All I remember from this morning was unloading heavy sets of books from the shelves and feeling the weight on my heart shift to the physical one in my hands. And I kept at it.. till all the bookshelves were empty.
The guys have shifted them around as I'd instructed, the brothers grumbled as I'd expected, the infant-nephew had a hell of a time throwing things about, the ladies of the house nodded in appreciation.. Now I, the sole Tarzan of the family, have to put everything back!
Trust me, when I say it's a GIGANTIC job! Need I mention every family member is a book lover - all 3 generations, well the baby loves to chew at them atleast..
Considering the pattern of things.. my channels for venting out.. the resulting job that lays ahead of me.. for the next 5 hours straight.. I'd pray I'm one happy-go-lucky girl for months to come! =/

An Oath to Blog by...

So I've been doing some light reading lately... exploring the blog scene on a regular basis.. and I've learnt one thing about good bloggers aka great writers aka a treat to their readers-> They don't write like me.
I don't mean that in a self-depreciating way... like my grammar doesn't suck, atleast I is the hoping it is the case by pay loadsa attention to what I writing, no? I don't make too many spelling mistakes, except this one time when I spelled a word so severely wrong that the spell-checker didn't even have any suggestions for it!
No, the problem I believe, lies in the target audience I have in mind... Me! =D
See, now probably all you millions of readers out there have to decipher my previous blogs just to get a faint idea of what the hell I'm going on about.. It's a bit Too abstract, I realize, for any reader who's not me. For I have a gala time recollecting all the flashbacks I go through as I scroll down this blog.. You, dear reader may use it as a lullaby instead.
So as a tribute to all the amazing bloggers out there, all those genuinely thought-provoking pieces I've read, all the inspiration collecting inside..
I hereby take an oath to write less abstract, more simplistic, realistic (perhaps even journalistic!) pieces, that my readers currently think I have a handicap for. ;) 
- Dudey
P.S.: Hope I translate some of this inspiration into my final year graduation project too! InshaAllah =)

Of Fantasies and Philosophies...

I don't have too many... Fantasies and Philosophies. Well at least not as many as an average girl my age, I assure you. 

But thanks to these pair of eyes, pretty long lashes and all, that have floated into my world.. there seems to be one constant fantasy I keep dreaming up... a world I find myself wishing for. 

A world where there are windows to people's hearts. No not doors, just windows. So once in a while you can peep and see how the heart's feeling.. once in a while someone can show you how you've changed theirs. You can not walk into the heart so you don't know why it's feeling that way (reasons bring the confusion rite?! :D) ..but you can just see how it looks on the outside.

What's the philosophy behind this fantasy? You see some of us non-verbal folks out here.. are completely incapable of ever conveying exactly how they feel.. to someone they want to tell it to. No I don't mean the usual film-like confession of love or so... But genuine feelings that aren't necessarily logical or have words. Feelings that can only be felt... like moments that pass on from one heart to another. 

Now some folks would say it'd be too easy.. it would become too common a practice to show someone they made you joyful or hurt you.. it would mean people would stop using words. 

But to me.. it seems like if people could see other's hearts change and hurt or heal.. they'd be a lot more careful.. they'd be a lot more responsible for what they share or hide.. they'd be less effort in finding the right words and more effort doing the right deeds. And of course, you could have the choice of closing the window shut to certain folks.. it won't be like carrying your heart on your sleeve.. Just those few people you think deserve to see your heart maybe because they've left a deep scar or a lingering glow.. they could see what they'd done.. it would be an honest transparency for them to accept. 

And imagine the intense loyalty when some one would open the window to their heart.. for you..it would feel so like an honour..

I actually did dream this up for myself....a complete picture of floating windows and hearts within.. i dreamt it just because of these certain ever-mesmerizing eyes.. the purely amazing heart that accompanies these eyes..deserves a view of how brilliantly it makes my day... just by it's existence.

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{Alhamdulilah}  

Constantly Wow. Consecutively Amazing.

It's Constant.. that's the most creepy yet utterly delightful aspect to it.. That's the most risky yet absolutely significant proof.. it's Much more constant than anything I've witnessed in my life... so very Constant... you know how vulnerable that makes me right?!
Over and over again I find it exactly where it should be. Over and over again it dawns upon me where it stands... constantly, I'm amazed. Constantly, I thank God. Every single time I look, I see it right there.. next to me.. there for me.. Constantly I'm surprised.. constantly pleased.. constantly loving every bit of it.
If you really know me, you'd say I'm Not someone who leaves things to chance or probabilities.. heck, I've this utter need to find the sense in every little feeling of mine.. the logic, the reasoning..
But with this constant aspect.. I just realize it, every single time I realize some more, it hits me how far I've come.. how on it's own, it's made an unmatched impression in me.. a mark, the depth of which I just keep realizing a little more every day.. constantly.
And slowly... ever so gradually.. I'm learning to trust this realization.. to trust that whatever I may realize can constantly be a good thing.. can consecutively be an advantage after another... I'm learning to trust it just as much as I trust all my reasons and explanations.. I'm learning to hold on to the constant..
You know what all of it boils down to?!.. How soon a vulnerability can turn into a right. Wow, I just wrote that here.

Vortex

I'm a permanent resident of the vortex, aren't I?! =D (and apparently that's funny to me now =/ , stupid woman).. I do travel to other more stable parts that seem like I have it all figured out but no sooner have I settled there, that I'm thrown back to the center of the Vortex! .. back to thinking What The Frikkin' Hell is my life tryina do?! .. it's like my life's a bull. No really, a bull with it's horn's stuck in a wooden door and it's just kicking the ground wondering why the direction of it's journey isn't visible...
Wow that just made a lot of sense Dudey, thanks for sharing it with your gazillion readers..
No there was a reason behind the urge to share this.... the reason being that this vortex feeling is taking over me in a very weird way.. like every little milestone I reach, every little achievement I make... is just that. I don't seem to be feeling the sincerity in it... seems like an "oh- that-just-had-to-turn-out-that-way" thing.. it's kinda sad cuz somethings Are sincere.. some people Are sincere.. some achievements Are worth it... but I just seem to be kinda watching from the sidelines.. watching my own life from the sidelines? now how does that happen for an independent adult.. anyways.. point being, my heart's slowly beginning to move away from the apparent "spice" of life... Every time I return to this center of chaos I realize I couldn't be less bothered.. Everything turns into a big ...so What?! so What's the Big Deal?!
Which hurts.. simply because..there are other people involved.. who're doing their best to make it the big deal it is... and their love and their sincerity is just sitting on it's own wondering What the Frikkin Hell is wrong with me.. And I don't even know what I'm saying anymore...
This just makes me realize one thing:
Time for some tea. =/

Ears of love...

My two-cents about love have respect embedded all over them. Respect for the other person is just as about important as trusting them. And within this realm of respect the one most important thing, in my head, is to really listen to what someone says not just hear them. 

Listening makes you know the person, just hearing them makes you know about them. Major difference.. 

Listening means you respect the person's words, they are worthy enough to consider and think over when you hear them..

Listening needs the respect to help the other person convey what they mean to say, not what you want to hear.. 

These two-cents tossed down the creative chute led to the above picture. 

Ears are to the heart, what listening is to love. Essential.

Gripping words for a Broken Heart...

"tu bacha bacha ke na rakh ise
tera aaina hai wo aaina,
ke shikasta ho to aziz-tr hai
nigah-e-aaina saz main"
 - Dr. Allama Iqbal.


Translation:
"Don't try to keep it protected,
your heart is that heart,
that if it's defeated, than it's more dear,
to the eyes of the Creator of the heart."


The heart has been metaphorically called a mirror and the Almighty the Creator of the mirror.

No.

No, you don't get to re-enter my life. No, you don't get to turn it upside-down. No, you don't get to come close.  and No, you most certainly don't get to refresh the memories I'm taking so long to move on from. Stay away from me. Stay away from here.

Rule of Judgment.

We don't always follow the rules, do we? People quote it too often: "Rules are meant to be broken..." They quote it every instant while they look for an exception to the rules, a shortcut, an easier way. Yet, the one rule we all seem to follow, the one unspoken bit that we never dare to move away, the one line that we never cross, the one habit we never leave, the one feeling we never let go: Judging ourselves.

We pass judgments about ourselves every moment of our lives. "That's not me." / "That's just who I am." / "I can't do that."/ " Who else would do this but me?!"/ "Why would I even think about this?" 

There are so many judgments we pass ourselves, we barely give ourselves any space. True that the moment someone else points a finger at a 'fact' about us, we hate them for judging us.. But the innumerable times we state 'facts' about ourselves, we believe it's only the truth. I'm not saying it's not the truth. I'm just saying it's not the Only one.
I've been through my share of eye-opening things in life, as of now.. my own set of high-points and my half of the bitter side and I can't remember doing anything more regularly through out those times, than judging myself... stating things about myself that I believed was true about me... until today. 

Until.. I went through the whole of the past year. 

I'm not gonna narrate the series of events that I'm refering to but I will say that tonight, when I sat to summarize how my past year has been in my head, it hit me how much I've surprised myself about who I am. Many of the things that I clearly thought were me, were just my own judgements from the lack of experience. I started giving myself space to exist, I started to know me instead of knowing about me. 

In the past year, I did that unknowingly, I let go of so many things that I thought were ''me'' and while I thought that was sad at some points, I've slowly come to realize that just sitting there watching myself, not holding every mistake against me, not being proud of every achievement, just observing myself... just observing myself, without a single judging thought, has made me see all that I'm capable of otherwise..It has made me feel what I thought I was incapable of feeling.. It has brought out in me what I didn't know I was holding within..It has liberated me to experience what my judgements weren't letting me have. 

And to learn from experience rather than our own judgments is a MUCH better way, in my view... by learning how to change what's wrong instead of hating ourselves for what's wrong is a Much better way... every time we fall, learning to get up and moving on is Much better than judging we aren't the getting up type at all... atleast that's how babies learn to walk and I'd say for someone with that little knowledge or understanding, they do a pretty good job for themselves and their lives.

Dear Wall.

All those times you ask me what's the matter and I say why'd you ask me that.. Does it cross your mind Why I won't give you a straight answer? 

Now that you wonder and play with those suspicious, conspiring clues of your own, now that you try to explain my change in attitude with your lame experience, I'll make it easier for you: it's because, talking to you is like talking to a wall. 

I don't mean to refer to your strength or firm standing when I call you that, I mean you seem as Incapable of bringing a change and unconcerned as a wall. Not that you were born with a disability, till a certain period of time there was no sign of this nature.
Until, it hit you how easy it is to be a wall. And sorry to say, you're too lazy to change that now. You've left all sensibility and coherence of an adult, understanding human, behind. You've left all experience to rot in the past. You are a wall.

I've too many evidences to list here and I think there's no point to doing that.  

The fact that I realized how much a wall you are, isn't going to change anything on your end. But I do know it has already changed so much on mine. So the matter is that there is none. I'm just not pretending anymore. I'm not playing along to your whole "she's a kid, she can be distracted" game. I'm not getting pleased by your petty and senseless solution-wanna-be's. I'm not ignoring how lazy you are. I'm not being who I'm not just to keep you in the good books. I'm not pretending to depend my emotions on you. I can live with enough strength from the Almighty alone. This is me and if it puzzles you to see me this way, dear wall, I'm certain you can be as indifferent to it as the rest of things in your life.... and mine. 

Mental Screen Capture: Sense or the I Pause I

Emotionally drained.

That's the phrase, right at the top, smack center on my mental report. 

It's a mostly empty paper otherwise. There's only these deeply embedded scribbles that aren't visible in ink. An insane number of times other scraps of paper have been kept on this one. And then someone would write on that scrap. These scribbles on my paper, are just the impressions of those writings. Just the ditches they've dug on the surface of my mental report. 

The irony this had led to: the paper appears to be utterly blank, it's touch feels ever so uneven. When you stare at it from the back you could be fooled by the texture, you'd think a kid went insane scribbling all over it. Turning it over, you see it's empty.
And when it's your own mental report, you don't feel the disappointment. Because you're emotionally drained. You're incapable of being provoked. You're indifferent. You live the today just as yesterday, probably like tomorrow. Because that's the mechanism, it may Not be monotonous but it doesn't inspire any emotion either.
And you're tired. Just so tired. On your mental screen, you're searching for the pause button. D.e.s.p.e.r.a.t.e.l.y. You want to pause existence. You don't want a break to a far off Caribbean destination to relax. For now, you don't want a destination to go or a muscle fiber to relax. For now, you want to pause your purposes, your hurdles, your achievements, your existence.
And you know what the strangest part is? Intensely in this state of mind, you still want to stare at these certain eyes.
Because you feel like these eyes are your Pause-button from everything else. They mesmerize you enough, they spread this strange feeling that settles your own existence on a breeze so it gets blown away. And No! you're not supposed to be making them your escape. No, you shouldn't look at them every time you look away from everything else.
No, these are eyes- a door to an existence- not your escape zone. You should stop escaping into their glance.
Somewhere in the stack of idle senses within you, you need to find a heart to do that.
Yet right now, your empty report makes it impossible to take any notes.
Right now, you just add to the ditches dug on it's surface.

A Cig in the Rain.

A cig in the rain.
I'm yearning to be letting out the smoke.
I'm drenched instead.

A cig in the rain.
I'm yearning to keep my insides intact.
I'm crumbling away instead.

A cig in the rain.
I'm yearning to be picked up as a challenge.
I'm laying idle instead.

A cig in the rain.
I'm yearning to be inhaled from.
I'm being stepped on instead.

A cig in the rain - I.am.lost.

Today's Coffee Break Piece:

:) Mental-5!

She's overjoyed in her own lil' world. 

It's a personal event of celebration and her heart's the ultimate scene of a Desi-wedding with shimmering lights, bright tents, a spray of glitter, the shower of rose petals and the genuine excitement in the air. 

It's a personal milestone and she feels the strength of it. She has a spring in her step and a sparkle in her smile. She sings, she hums and she laughs - All the cliche's as if they were sensations discovered a-new. 

Every time an adult talks the serious-talk, she sneaks a mini-dance routine behind their back, just so the fireworks inside don't get interrupted by a raindrop. Then slaps herself to sense.

She's making customized snacks and wearing specifically comfy clothing.. She's treating herself to it all, for a change.. for now.. from ecstacy. 

Witnessing Dudey's personal celebration is a crazy experience and it's subtle yet vibrant like light sparkling in the dark! =) 

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Alhamdulilah.

Who Else?

You don't need anyone.

No and neither do I. 

Nor does any other being on this planet. For who will you trust to fully, solely, be concerned about your needs alone? How can you convince yourself that this one person you trust so fully, that he/she would absolutely forget about their own existence and devote themselves to yours? How can you be that foolishly lame? 

I'm not trying to be the creepy little voice at the back of your head that whispers the doubts about trusting any one human to fully care about you with an thunderous echo of "not even your parents!". No, all I mean to say is that trusting a human being to fully care about you alone is just e.x.a.c.t.l.y. and o.n.l.y. that. It is a human being that you are holding these expectations of and it is a human being that will attempt to fulfill them. His/Her efforts will be of a human being, it will include mistakes, disappointments and if it's a genuinely deserving person who cares for you, it will be unintentional to the very core. Because this person is human.

So you can't need that can you? You can't need a human being to care for you that way. That's my point. If some one does care and you like that and return it, that's basic gratitude and appreciation skills at work. But to think that it is your sole right to be treated with utter perfection in care, that's stupidity. 

Unless and until, this need is for a different Source. The Source that ensures you have the sense of what you need to have and what you need to avoid. The Source of all your strengths and the Strength to ward away all your weaknesses.

The Source of your creation - The Almighty.

The Almighty is all you, me or any of His creations need. At the end of the day, as you count the good parts of your day, who do you thank? As you count the utterly disappointing bits, who do you pray to change that? As you smile at the memory of all those you love, who do you say "Wow!" to in amazement? As you frown at those that cause you pain, who do you expect to see the matter in justice? As you consider your own talents, who do you show gratitude to? As you realise your own sins, who do you expect mercy from? The Almighty stands by us when, where and in a way NO other being can. He provides what no one else can. He provided us with a life to begin with (!) and He will provide us with all that we need within it till the end. He provides us with endless, unconditional, absolute love. 

It's all we need. HE is ALL we need.

Opportunity-oholic ;)

As this was found laying around at work "somehow"... I'll take it as a sign for the current month's hectic routine. In a way, this DOES tend to make work addictive. =)

You Gotta Be The Right Colour To Stand Out ;)

This perfectly subtle yet vibrant scene outside our window.. starring our unsuspecting neighbour's towel :D Sunshine has funny ways of brightening up a city. And a brilliant city at that :) Alhamdulilah.

- Inspirations Adapted -

A sketch I made a couple of months back.. at the beginning of a new turn in life.. borrowing Rene Magritte's concept of night and day simultaneously depicted on the same canvas, although definitely didn't pull it through just as neatly as him but well.. the inspiration counts ;)
My end of the contribution to this piece also includes the editing in Photoshop where I added all the coloured elements, both paints and textures.
Btw, it's not a scanned version of the sketch as you can tell from the sides of the pic, it's a photo I took of it, thanks to my BenQ's special Scene Mode for pictures of handwritten text. (H) =D
Left the edges of the real pic uncropped for a 'Bringing the Sketch to Life' effect on behalf of Photoshop ;)

This is the first piece of mine that was completely-"inspired" by Rene Magritte's painting of a moon through the leaves. And Yes, I'm a huge fan of his so-amazingly-unconventional and deeply-philosphical art. I love this one because it's a reminder for Optimism in life as the moon isn't hidden by the leaves but is placed in front of them. And Yes, I know I went a bit overboard with the "glow" of the moon! =D

Dear F...

Please stop.
In my head, in my ears and in my heart, CAN YOU PLEASE STOP?!
I need you to stop so that I don't have to tear open myself and let you out. I don't wana feel you, I don't wana think that you ever existed. I want every bit of you gone before I realize your presence at all. This isn't like the end of the world; no, that would be so much better. This is like being stuck inside, unable to escape till I bow in denial make myself believe I'm not here at all. I don't want you to be the reason for me to bow down. I don't know how I ended up with you, I don't see the beginning but I sure as hell want you to end. Stop taking over me, stop making me feel this way. Just stop.
I feel like I know just one single way to make this happen. I don't think the risk is bothering me now.. This one chance that I have, I will take it because that is how bad I want you to stop. I don't think I care about the risk now just simply because I may not get this chance again. I'm taking that risk.
So STOP.
Yearning to not be yours,
Dudey.

Changing Destiny

- Dr. Allama Iqbal.

Swords and plots are of no use when you are just a slave (= wanna-be),

The capability to believe (Faith) can alone break the chains that bind you.

Who can assess the Strength of the one with Faith?

The very Glance of a Faithful Man can change Destiny!

- Translation attempt by Dudey.

This extract is from Dr. Iqbal's "Tulo'e Islam"  (The Dawn of Islam), one of the very first works of his that I felt amazed by [and was able to easily understand =D ].

May the Almighty Bless his soul immensely for his very amazingly inspiring words, and May He let these words bring a genuine change in us. - Amin. 

Trampoline of Reality

It's back to the trampoline of reality. The moments up high, in the air, with the weightless feeling floating in every cell of mine. Followed by the sudden grip of gravity and the immediate jerk back down. Down till I slam against the ground, wondering if I ever was anywhere else.
It's like a painted canvas where each bold, distinct stroke holds a part of me I'm oh-so-sure about. Followed by a splash of water over the whole surface blurring every drop of colour, blending one into another until there's just a huge stain left and nothing can be made of out of it.
The blackness of my vision when I hit the ground and the darkness of the stain on my canvas, are just my own sins blurring the redness of my heart. Wonder if there's anything left there for me to call it my own.

Blood and Soul.

If you're somebody, like me, who's grown up away from your homeland, and rarely visited it, you probably agree with me when I say, "Relatives are like lottery tickets. The emotional outcome of your meeting with them, is as random as the result of a raffle draw." [Aaand if you're somebody from my extended family, you probably hate me for saying that! =D ]
It's a funny concept really, the whole assumption that relatives are afterall more deserving of our love, than other entities like 'neighbours', 'family friends' and buddies in general. And the main promoters of such esteemed thoughts are called the "Auntyjees", in the Indo-Pak Society. The exact definition of these Auntyjees is: females who's existence you discover one fine morning, back home, when you wake to their affectionate "Aslamaliiikuuuuumm!" followed by the-cheek-pulling-ceremony, where the lady checks the durability of foreign cheeks. Their most distinct characteristic is the surprise at how much you've grown from the tiny body running around in diapers. Talk about the lack of expectations!
Studies show that 9 out of 10 Auntyjee's suffer from heartbreak due to the strong bonds between their distant-nieces/nephews and people from outside the family, which the Auntyjees fear effects the nieces'/nephews' priority list. (Okay, there's no real study like that but I bet that would be the result if there was one.)
Now the aim of this post is not to diss family bonds but only to express my view of them.
To me, the essential difference between relatives and loved ones is that of blood and soul. Blood is necessary to survive, the Soul is needed to live. Once your born, you necessarily have some relatives. But if you live a life worth living, you most definitely have people you love.
Who makes it to the top of your priority list is, honestly, less in your own hands and more in the hands of those around you. Yes, the immediate family - your parents and siblings- deserve an unmatched place, that is unquestionably a fact. Above all, of course, the beloved Prophet (SAWS) and our innumerable religious mentors.
But in terms of society, as a strong contender of 'true relationships originate from honest affection', I believe it really isn't in our hands to choose who shall be that genuine with us. Only our definition of 'genuine-ness' comes into question again ..... but that's a different post. ;)
The importance of understanding this lies in realizing that we need to stop taking those around us for granted -  not only in terms of our natural relationship with them but also due to our spiritual connection that they have established with us, be it a sweet neighbor bringing you chicken soup when you've cold or an aunt buying you candy when mom's not looking.

Summary of the above mental ramblings:

"You can stop the Heart that pumps Blood but you can't stop the Soul that spreads Humanity." 

Flickering Faith.

(this was supposed to be posted last night but wasn't - courtesy: dudey's artistic instincts -_- )

My limbs didn't fall off today. My eyes didn't lose vision. I had no inclination to hurt myself or kill somebody else. I didn't get run over by a truck or watch a loved one die. My memory is intact and I didn't have to borrow a cigarette because I am addicted. I did not become obsessed with a celebrity neither did my mood swing into a bad one for no apparent reason. 

I had a genuinely average day which is an excellent experience, safe from all sort's of mental and physical dangers. (considering the odds - all of the above are possible, without prior warning).

Right at the beginning of this very day, I did my best to hurry through Prayer, just so I would get back to bed. 

Do you see it now?

My first gesture to the Source who ensures all remains well, was to hurry through His worship like I was doing Him a favour. 

YET, all remained well.

All remained exactly as it was yesterday or better, the only difference was that I was a little less thankful and a little more ignorant. That was my doing.

And This: Me, being all fine, being able to think articulate thoughts, type sensible sentences, live normally. 

This is His doing. 

Later in the day, as I stood on the Prayer mat a second time, my vision flickered for a moment. I wasn't sure if it had something to do with the light bulb in the room or the lack of healthy 'nutrients' in me but everything would vanish for a millisecond and then return. Again and again. 

Mid-prayer I slightly feared that the bulb would explode (as it once had earlier, much to my fascination) and as I was standing right underneath, I'd be toast. 

On the other hand, if this was my own weakness in health, than I'd be splat(!) on the floor soon, losing consciousness.

What I feared mostly was that, either ways, it was justified. What did I really do or feel to not deserve either of the two ordeals? 

All logic and 'justice' aside, it was My Lord's Unconditional Love and Mercy upon me that I completed my prayer and am still just as normal as ever.

There's a lesson of True Affection right there and I couldn't feel more Grateful to the Almighty to teach it to me, despite my flickering faith.

Confessions of a Betrayed-Love.

Way before the first rays of the Sun trickle through the clouds, Dudey promises to throw herself out of bed. She vows to grab the opportunity to prepare for her Religious Studies class later during the day. She bribes herself with the prospect of a half-hour-breakfast including her very favourite, self-invented, Chicken-Omellete-Cheese-And-Anything-Else-You're-Afraid-The-Family-Would- Finish-Sandwich. Intellectually, Dudey's motivation is to be inspired enough by the morning revision to genuinely thank the Almighty as she shall watch the Sun rise.

With these sincere oaths, her eye lids shut for the night.

The earth is trembling, her leg seems to have panicked and caused electrical impulses to jerk the muscles within. Dudey opens her eyes to glare at a blurred version of her room where every object vibrates uncontrollably, and in the center of it all, trying to become the focus of her attention: The sweet-face of Mother announcing the time, 6:30 a.m.! She continues to vigorously shake Dudey's leg like a wake-up bell perhaps expecting it to oscillate back and forth. 

Or maybe, she imagines the leg to be one of those cords on a speed-boat engine, that you pull repeatedly until the motor starts. Mother has her very creative, customized-for-each-child ways to wake them up. And it works everytime.

Ignoring the Sun's mocking, "You-were-saying..?"- glare from the window, Dudey jumps out of bed, grabs her jet-black-mystery-woman-overall, brushes her teeth as she puts on her watch, packs her bag as she reads the revison chart on the wall and before you know it, she's at the door! 

6:36 p.m. You couldn't get any faster than that at her age. Unless you were NASA's X-43A Jet (the fastest model  in 20 years) . But she highly doubted the Jet had a morning-routine similar to hers. For starters, the Jet didn't need to worry all it's hair antennae were tucked in and it's white, metallic body was covered appropriately, with hinges and knobs made oblivous, for it to recieve due respect in it's journey among male-jet-liners.

Anyway, the door was where the unexpected awaited her. Her world slowed down to real-time and then to further slow-motion. There stood the temptingly-ideal figure, shining in all the right places, brown, almost like tanned to the right extent - A Chocolate Cupcake. It was placed amongst some decoration pieces by the entrance and these were sitting on a little ledge she had recently put up (so much for her ill-timed interior decoration skills.) 

There was no time to grab a bite and as Dudey ran down to the car, she congratulated herself for being so "mature" as to give priority to education over food. Like.. WOW right?

Wrong.

All through the morning discussions and the initial prayer, Dudey could only discuss about and pray for: a Chocolate Cake. Her innumerable mentions of sweet confectionaries as examples of blessings from the Almighty, prompted her Professor to offer her some breakfast. She declined, of course. What if it was some other megre salty-bite like cracker biscuits and in due respect to her Professor she'd have to eat it instead of the gorgeous cup-cake back at home? 

At first, she thought the Cup Cake's image was the usual Satan's tool to lure her away from the Blessings of the lecture but soon, the depth of her feelings made her realise: Dudey was in Love with the Chocolate Cake!

No really, all the signs were there. She couldn't stop thinking about it. The more she was amongst others, the more she wanted to be with it. It appeared to have no flaw and most importantly, it had chocolate. So not only was this Cup-cake Perfect, it was the kind of Perfect that Dudey wanted.

Knowing better, Dudey spent all her time in class witnessing the wrestling match between the two hemispheres of her brain, one concentrating on the class, the other indulging in the Love for the cake.

Her journey back to her house never seemed sweeter, almost literally! For at the end of it, Dudey knew, the wait would be worth it. She could bite every inch of the cake without any distractions or commitments to be else where, doing other stuff.

No, it would just be Dudey and the Chocolate Cup Cake. Her Chocolate Cup Cake. She blushed at the latter thought.

And there it was, in all it's entirety, drawing attention away from all that surrounded it. She couldn't wait to get a plate, she just did it. She bit and chewed and gulped the lumps like a thirsty traveller, in the scorching heat of the desert, would drink water. 

It wasn't for a whole 5 minutes that Dudey took notice. There was something different. Almost - if she could dare say it for such a gorgeous creation - something wrong.

And then she realized it. Her Love had been Betrayed! Betrayed by this megre chunk of flour and .. well, egg, milk, sugar... Point being, it was all a LIE! All it's external beauty held only fungus and spoilt, rotten insides! It had reached that place near the door not because of it's Esteemed appearance but because it was on it's way to being chucked away for it's real self! Betrayed Love, literally, T-o t-h-e C-o-r-e! Infact, now she could see signs on the Crust as well. 

As it dawned upon her that she was gona be sick, Dudey prayed to the Almighty for help to get over a whole morning's deep Love. 

That's when it hit her. Reviewing her devotion in class that morning, Dudey realised that the Cake hadn't been the only betrayer that day.

------

Humble Request by Dudey: Kindly pray my Love for the Almighty and all His Deserving- Creations, reaches a Genuine extent, undisturbed by all materialistic temptations - Amin.

Run.

Thin ice cold blades scraping your skin - feel the wind rush past you.
Nerves impulses giving jerks to your skull - feel the thumping in your head.
The bones in your toes grind against the ground but bounce back up, in vain - feel the light feet you have right now.
Digging deeper into the soil, your legs wrench your guts along - wow, you're fast.
The ribs swing in half circles, right to left and back, dragging your arms along - feel your body pushing all odds away to move ahead.

It's only your eyes - the betrayers.
Sitting in their sockets, they watch the world glide past. They tell you the rest is only mechanical. A natural part of the effortless endeavour of running.
So you obey them and you run. Run like there would be no end to it. Run like its the genius idea for survival. You run not because your afraid. You run because you no longer want to be afraid.
You think.
Because then you slam into the glass! The sides of your imagination's dome. The bottom to your fantacy's pit. "The reality check."
You hate that phrase, don't you? Because you can't run anymore, you can't glide further away from the burden of existence, the consequence of your being.

It's the cold, dead end to your addiction to illusion.

You slam against it and no matter how deep your legs dig into the ground, your chest just presses harder against the glass.
And then you feel it.
The heart inside.
Stubbornly beating like a mad beast trying to break out of a cage. Over and Over. Crying out loud about the reality of it's existence. Pumping it's pain, to every inch of your body. Forcing you to recognize every cell as your own.
You see it too, as your vision blurs and blood rushes to your head, blocking out all sounds.

And then you feel them.
The lungs, striving to drag out the bad, absorb the good. Breathing in life to push away death.
You hear it too. Your own breath. Deep, hard, cold. Almost like you've got company.

As you regain a sense of the whole of your body, the feeling of existence kicks in.
The feeling like you deserve to settle for a while, rest your aching muscles, warm the pricking skin.

The sense of comfort makes you "realise" maybe it's not the end after all. Maybe it's OK.
Because come to think of it, if existence were really a burden, the Almighty wouldn't torture you with it. It's a Blessing He has bestowed out of His Love for you.
And you love Him too, right? So it's easy to do what you must (and more) out of Love for Him.

And if the Faith is just about as much as you fear it to be, the distance to the other end of this glass dome is a long stretch....
Run.

The Key to Dudey's Writing Zone.

"Can't write? Write about not being able to write then." - The Exception.

"Can't write more? Write about the one thing that's still making you want to write again!" - The Honey Dew.

The Exception and The Honey Dew, real people from a real story, gave Dudey the key to her writing zone. The Key lies in answering the reason of her return without stating it in words, yet through her words.

Ironic and Challenging.

That's Dudey's Story Alright!

Wax Vision.

Gripped by the heat,
It feels the particles drifting apart.
Knowing it's lack of solidarity,
The wax submits, melts just as far.

Poured in to the mould,
It let's the shape define it to the core.
No longer clinging to its soul,
Lo and Behold!

It's a candle.
Standing tall as it's structure will allow.
At the height of it's beauty for now.

The colour, the scent, the glory,
Embracing peace after fury.
Here's where it's begun to belong,
Forgetting this isn't for long.

For here comes the fire,
with poison burning in it's flame.
Taking away all that's to admire,
bringing it to shame.

It melts.
In it's reality it dwells.
The journey from the wick to below
It's humbled and it has to flow.

At the bottom, it waits.
Thinks over it's traits.
Realizes it's destiny: change.
Feels the lack of it to be strange.

That is when the wax justifies,
with what within it lies,
it's reason to be a candle.
The appearance is a mere scandal,
Colour, scent, light - all added to the raw.
No - now on it's true strength it must draw.

Change - it's strength, destiny or chance.
The wax must change to take the stance,
that will return it to dignity and pride.
That will give it a new life.

It let's in the cold air.
laying every particle bare.
till it's settled to the truth,
becoming the solid it could.


......


As I see it, change is a fact.
To it, ideally I don't always react.
For, in change we reflect on what we really need.
With it we plant in our being, a doubt's seed.

I know now. I have no doubt.
Whether I stand in glory or burn out.
All I need, is those eyes,
that reflect what within me lies.
That show me the wax I always had,
To accept change, good or bad.

These eyes, destiny has made me see,
Let the changes around me run free.

In these eyes, not mine,
I see the wax in me shine.
I see the changes I can make,
I see the changes as my fate.

So all I need and all I should,
Look into these eyes,
and I'm good.

Survivals History

A very Brief history of Dudeyyy's Survival would include the following words and the era's in her survival, that they refer to:

Sumo Wrestler - 1989 -1995
Pampered Adventurous Brat - 1996 - 2001
Dude - 2001 - 2009
System Restart - 2009-2010
Dudeyyy - 2010 onwards..

Some of these era's overlap, but the general categorization can be thus.
Further elaboration of these phases may come up in the course of her survival story.

At present, Dudeyyy may have to give up her identity within the next 24 hours.
And this is a desperate attempt to hold on to it.