Those were some volunteers


2005 earthquake in Pakistan is considered deadliest in country’s history. The 7.6 magnitude earthquake claimed some 76,000 lives.

October 8, 2005 was the month of Ramzan. On that day, I was on leave from college. It was around 8: 55 in the morning and I was busy solving Mathematics questions when I felt, the sofa on which I was sitting was shaking. At first, I stayed where I was but when shaking got worse, we all went outside.

Standing in my courtyard, grabbing my register, I looked at the houses; it was so bad that they were swaying like trees. I can’t remember the exact duration but it all lasted for few minutes.

That was a horrible experience. Though, I was reciting kalma but being a human being my heart was beating profusely. Once, on getting inside, I performed ablution and offered prayer. It gave me some satisfaction but the news on T.V channels weren’t good. It took some time before we realized the intensity of devastation. In capital city of Islamabad, a building got collapsed. It was named Margalla tower and the death toll in the northern areas of Pakistan was extremely high.

Once the news broke out, Pakistanis living abroad started leaving for their country. Volunteers from around the world offered their services.

That was the holy month of Ramzan in which Muslims abstain themselves from eating before the break of the dawn till sunset. In those days, I remember at the time of fast there were lots of blessings of Allah on our dining table and on every other day, I could see such pictures in newspapers in which group of volunteers were sitting patiently waiting to break their fast with nothing but water and some dates.

Those were some tough and painful days. There were stories of death and there were miracles of re-birth. Volunteers from the country and from all around the world performed their selfless service.

Reading the word “volunteer” for daily post took me back to that time, I can vividly recall watching all those faces in newspapers and on T.V which needed nothing but ready to give everything.

Those were some volunteers, mostly they were ordinary people, they didn’t need any kind of accolades and yet performed their selfless services and saved many lives.

Written for the daily post Volunteer

Selfless- service

three line tales week 36 service

Ours was a group in class, who never showed interest in studies and the day our teacher’s daughter died, imagining a day-off from Mathematics we took a sigh of relief but when we were busy in chatting and enjoying ourselves, the classroom door opened and the weary face of our teacher appeared.

On that day he was coming straight from graveyard and when one of his colleagues asked him to take a leave; he broke into tears and said,

“Perhaps this act of mine would make God happy and He’ll make home for my daughter in Paradise.”

(Above story is an inspiration from a real life event which I read in a book of a civil servant.)

This post is in response to Three Line Tales, Week Thirty-Six by SONYA. Picture for this week’s challenge is provided by  Mike Wilson.


A post of reminiscence

Made with Repix (
This picture was taken in early 1960’s. Those were some early day of my grandparents’ married life.

Writers mostly avoid using adjectives in their writings but my grandmother was such a beautiful, kind and caring soul that for the sake of her, I can write hundreds of adjectives here.

I remember those long winter nights when we kids used to snuggle on her bed and while reminiscing about her past she would get sad but as the dreariness of cold night tried to cast its spell so did she, for while narrating stories from her past, her voice remained firm and calm.

At the time of her marriage, she was young and naive but in all her life she remained thankful to her husband who taught her to read and write. At times, when she was in mood she would tell us that due to her fair complexion she never cared much about doing makeup and would feel contend to have Tibet snow cream and red lipstick as her only makeup accessories.

Staying at home and taking care of seven kids, she didn’t find much time for herself and whenever my grandfather would buy clothes for her, she would gladly wore colors of his choice.

She was admired for her far-sightedness. In all her life, she never saw the face of school but learnt a lot from her experiences. Once, sitting with my sisters, I was joking and praying that something bad would happen to my old mobile set so that I could get free from its burden when she heard me and in her strong voice interrupted and said,

“Mobiles are not meant to show off. There only purpose is to receive and make a call.”

Such was her vision about life and such was her simplicity that despite all difficulties in her life, she remained thankful to the blessings of Allah Almighty.

The day she died, I thought that life would never be same and today after one year when I have finally found some time to sit and contemplate, I’m wishing that something might have changed but everything seemed to remain same.

In all these past months, I wanted to stop and take rest but as weeks melt into months and months are turning into years, I’m finding little and no time to contemplate.

Life is cruel, it goes on and so do we.

Journey of life


I’ve heard about a dead blog but didn’t experienced it and today when I’m writing after fifteen days ,I can understand very well the meaning of this term. This absence from my blog provided me with a chance to read some books and the opportunity to visit my maternal family was such a refreshing experience.

In the morning I was studying my notes and this very line from “whom the bell tolls” caught my attention.

“No man is an island” and we all depend on each other.

It’s been a while that I heard that the luckiest person in a world is a one who enjoys perfect relations in his life and while laughing and enjoying with my family I was thinking that no matter what we can’t deny the importance of blood relations.

This trip to my native city was different in a sense that I visited my grandparents in graveyard and while reciting prayer near the grave of my grandfather I couldn’t help noticing the quite environment. Outside there was a noise of life and in the graveyard I felt the stillness of death. Time seemed to stop and while wiping my tears I was thinking about the beauty of life. Life is colorful and if anything is important than it’s the “moment”.

Sometimes the journey of life seems hectic but believe me it’s very short. It’s the blink of the moment that can decide our fate. So, enjoy each and every moment in your life and always remain thankful for all the wonderful people in your life.

Wishing you a very happy new year 🙂

Things we leave behind


Heidi by Johanna Spyri is an excellent work of literature. I remember reading it in my childhood and the process of rereading it brought tears in my eyes. I assume Heidi was a lucky girl that finally got reunited with her grandfather but everyone is not as lucky as Heidi.

I’ll be honest, I’m really trying hard to put off all those old memories aside but I had little control over my subconscious. So, in spite of all my struggles, the memories of my old home always find their way in my dreams.

Like Heidi’s house my home also appeared to gleam in golden sunshine. I can vividly recall the beauty of those green shrubs and flowery bushes. How can I forget those sweet songs of sparrows and how can I neglect those green leaves that were home to many birds?

Like Heidi, I was associated with that home. That house meant everything to me. Those walls were my best friends. Playing, fighting and studying together, we spent a long span of sixteen years together.

The place witnessed many special moments of my life. I moved into that house as a school girl and left that place as a university graduate.

Those were some sad prospects in which we had to leave that place and while typing these words on my laptop, I’m sure that Heidi and I’ve got one thing in common and that is our love for our home.

Heidi beats me as she succeeds in getting back to her home.


writing 101 prompt: Things we leave behind

The Space to Write

space to write

The calmness of morning and stillness of night are my best friends and my dear laptop accompanies me in my process of writing.

It reminds me of my wonderful experience of writing a story. Once, there was a picture prompt given and my mind was totally blank. All day long, I tried hard to come up with some idea but to no avail.

On that night when I went to sleep, my mind started to work. Lying on bed, I grab hold of pencil and paper and with eyes closed, I just started to write.

The morning light unveiled the mess on paper but it opened the closed window of my mind and once I started typing, I never stopped.

Truth be told, I’m still practicing it and whenever I have a feeling that I’m getting short of ideas, I just close my eyes and relax my mind and at that very moment the film like motion of my words started to play in my mind.

Trust me this practice is really helpful.


Written for Writing 101 prompt: The space to write

The vastness of planet

vast space

The other day, I was reading the story of Helen Keller, when I came across this quote

The one I felt and still feel most is lack of time. I used to have time to think, to reflect, my mind and I. We would sit together of an evening and listen to the inner melodies of the spirit, which one hears only in the leisure moments when the words of some loved poet touch a deep, sweet chord in the soul that until then had been silent.”

So, today, while listening to my inner melodies, that college class came to my mind.

Once, my teacher was busy in delivering her lecture when one of my friend, started to ask unnecessary questions.

My teacher showed great patience but at one point she became exhausted. I remember she drew a large circle on a blackboard and marked a tiny dot in its center. She asked us to explain what that was.

We replied that it was only a circle. She shook her head and a smile appeared on her face.

She said,

The circle represents the vastness of this planet. The world is huge and this tiny dot represents the very existence of human being. The life is a never ending race. So, don’t waste your time in asking purposeless questions.”

Don’t know about my friend but from that day on, I avoid asking unnecessary questions 🙂

A letter to Chile!


Dear Chile!

I hadn’t got a chance to witness the strength of human courage till the time came when I realized that man’s strength and power can make him achieve impossible tasks.

I can never forget that day of 2010. For, watching the rescue operation in Chile was a life changing moment for me.

It was a live telecast and my family was gathered around the television. The day light of early morning was making it difficult for me to conceal my tears. I hate being sensitive and that was a tissue worthy moment.

By the time the first miner appeared on a surface, the emotions were pouring out of my eyes. I can never forget that thunderous applause. Rescue workers were embracing each other. The television camera was showing a contented smile on President’s face.

The moment of family reunion was an emotional scene. The father was embracing his child and the child was crying hysterically.

I was amazed by the bravery of rescue workers. They worked day and night and that too effortlessly. How can I forget that rescue worker named Gonzalez?.He was the last man out. He stayed there till end and only came out when the last miner got rescued.

It really showed his strong commitment to his work.

The 69 days ordeal of trapped miners came to an end when the TV camera showed the sign “Misión cumplida Chile” in English (Mission Accomplished).

Thank you Chile for reminding me this great lesson of life. This great story from the pages of your history will continue to inspire me.


chile mission accomplished

Image credit: Google image

I’ve just finished reading an article in Reader’s digest. “Buried Alive” from the book “Deep down dark” inspires me to write this post.

That was the moment I knew!


(Thanks Ameena k.g for this prompt. I’m sorry that it is not a free write but the prompt inspires me and I love writing it 🙂

The prompt reminds me of an intelligent girl of my college. She was teacher’s favorite student and I’m not hesitant to accept that I was a bit jealous of her. My “immature mind” was not capable of interpreting her real beauty and I was not wise enough to accept her intelligence as a “source of inspiration” for me.

It so happened, that she stopped coming to college. I heard that she had met some accident. I got busy in studies and forgot her.

One day, I was coming out of Examination Hall when I saw a familiar face on a wheel chair. I was shocked to see her. With some hesitation, I moved towards her and asked her what had happened. The story was shocking as the “stray bullet” had damaged her spinal cord and her lower body was paralyzed. She was on wheel chair and with the urine bag attached; she had come to college because she was worried about her studies.

Her strength amazed me and to this day I can recall her “sweet smile”. I can still feel the firm hold of her hand. I felt a strange attraction in her sparkling eyes and when she spoke, I felt her voice was firm and strong.

It’s been more than ten years now but that moment is still fresh in mind. That was the moment I knew that my feelings of jealousy for that “pure soul” was wrong. That was the moment when I realized the “importance of life”. How much ignorant I was in complaining about the negativities in life, and yet, how “complacent” she looked in her ordeal.

It happened one night…






The wind blew furiously and soon it started to rain. After a hot day, the cold breeze brought much-needed refreshment and we all became very happy.

I was in a kitchen, making a tea for my family, when I heard a pathetic chirping of a bird. Our flowering shrubs had been home to many birds. So, I got alarmed by that voice and asked my sister to come with me.

What we saw outside was a baby dove huddled against the wind. The poor bird was probably blown away from its nest.  The little bird was frightened. We got worried and the whole family gathered outside. Everyone proposed his or her own idea, but my father gently took the bird in his hands and carried him inside.

My mother placed a basket in an inverted position and my elder sister wrapped the bird in an old shirt and carefully placed him on the sheet of paper.

Children were especially very excited. They kept sitting around the bird and continued to examine it. At last, when it was very late, my mother scolded them and asked them to go to their beds. The morning was bright and sunny. So, after breakfast, my father took the baby dove outside and gently placed him on the wall.

The window of our drawing room opened in a garden. So, we all gathered there and started to look at the bird. I must admit that never, in my life I had ever seen such a touching scene.

There it was a pair of a light brown colored “mourning dove”. The father and the mother doves were grooming their chick. They were cleaning his feathers and gently pushing him with their beaks.

The golden sunshine was filtering through the green leaves and was gently caressing the happy doves. It occurred to me that the cOO oo-woo-woo of the dove was no more plaintive. In fact, it was a happy song of the delighted heart of a dove. The bird who was earlier mourning the loss of his baby was now singing the happy song of reunion.

That beautiful scene is still fresh in my mind. I can never forget that care and love of a dove for its chick.