Crisp.

The smell of fresh leaves,
the crisp sound of crushing old ones.
The mist in the air,
as it melts on my skin.

Its a routine we do,
Its ours till the end.
Its a feeling we make,
Its for us to live within.

Walking with a heavy head,
and sometimes light as air,
What is it that is wanted from us?
or from you? or from me?

Just silence and a little pain,
just noise and some joy.
A gulp and a breath,
to keep walking on.

Is it that's all there?
Is there more we're yet to see.
It seems a never-ending road,
or one that's just begun instead.

Haze in my head,
Dewy - my heart,
Quite - my mind,
They say its the perfect moment to pray.

...

Been 'springcleaning' for the past few days...though its a pleasant *and oh so rare* 14 degrees outside SubhanAllah ... =)

Newho, the back of one's cupboard (or the half of one's shelving & wardrobe unit) can be a beautiful yet surreal, reminiscence-causing  area. The photographs, the keepsakes, the souvenirs and those no1-knows-i-saved-this items can hold an entire lifetime within them when you've not even lived half of your life =D..

Well, let's just say amidst all the sweet memories made & touching experiences had..there are the inevitable bunch of grand-hiccups down the road .. the let-me-sing-loudly-to-myself-to-forget-that-ever-happened twists to our otherwise sunny bright journey.. And when you've had your fair share of these hiccups, or are bombarded by them one after the other for a signficant amount of time......... you become a sort've of "nostalgia-phobe".
You begin to dread missing anything ... there's a whole lotta bitter in that jar of sweet.. the emo in you is heavier on the see-saw than you're happy-go-lucky side.... you're still living out the part where it'll all balance and become a "mixed bag" or a series of "ups and downs"..... it's still a waiting period & you'd much rather anticipate & hope for the result uphill than cherish the effort at the bottom.

No surprises if I can relate to any of that.. although thankfully, I seem to be gradually making peace with the entire bitter part and actually begin to enjoy it as the unique aftertaste to AMPLE sweet I've had in my life so far Alhamdulilah =)..

Here's some post-appropriate lyrics from "Yaad" by Shehzad Roy (which is his only piece that I like):

Yaad 

Woh jo hum mein tum mein qarar tha,

Woh jo hum mein tum mein qarar tha,

Tumhe yaad ho k na yaad ho.

Jo na mit sakey wahi pyar tha

Jo na mit sakey wahi pyar tha

Tumhe yaad ho k na yaad ho.

Woh naey gilay woh shikayatein 

Woh maze maze ki hikayathein

Kabhi rooththe kabhi maanthe

Woh sitham kabhi woh inayathein

Mujhe sab hay yaad

Zara zara..

Mujhe sab hay yaad

Zara zara..

Tumhe yaad ho k na yaad ho.

Tumhe yaad ho k na yaad ho.

Woh jo hum mein tum mein qarar tha,

Woh jo hum mein tum mein qarar tha,

Tumhe yaad ho k na yaad ho.

Woh jo din thay kitnay ajeeb thay,

Haan bus aik se naseeb thay.

Kay judaa na houn yahi khauwf tha,

Kabhi hum bhi itna qareeb thay.

Woh jo waada meinay wafa kiya,

Woh jo waada meinay wafa kiya,

Tumhe yaad ho k na yaad ho.

Jo na mit sakey wahi pyar tha

Jo na mit sakey wahi pyar tha

Tumhe yaad ho k na yaad ho.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

....dewy memories aside, g'nite folks! ;)

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).

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.

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.

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.

:) 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! =) 

-----------------------------------------------

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. =)

- 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

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.