Bloggers have taught me

Beauty in life

flower
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Bloggers with love for nature have taught me to discover beauty in tiny droplets of water, bloggers have taught me to find calm and peace in genial rays of sun on my terrace.

Reading

reading
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I had always showed interest in reading books but bloggers around the world have taught me the real importance and the proper way of reading which could make our written expression beautiful.

Positive Approach

positive-approach
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Blogging and more precisely bloggers have taught me to remain hopeful. I’ve learned that we can’t escape the realities in life and positive approach towards life is what makes us strong.

Gratitude and thanks

thank-you
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I’ve always tried but these are the bloggers who have taught me to express my gratitude over the presence of little things in life, I’m thankful to find some time in writing this post on word press.

Rules in writing

 

rules
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In my initial days of writing, bloggers taught me some basic rules of writing. I’ve been using too many adjectives and I can’t remember the name of blogger but I’ll always remain thankful to him for he was the one who advised me to stop using excessive use of flowery speech in writing.

Explore

explore
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Two years ago when I started doing blogging, I wasn’t sure about my expertise and these are the bloggers who have inspired me to explore different genres of writing.

Connection

people.JPG
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No experience in life could ever told me and those were the bloggers who have actually taught me that though the human beings practicing different religions are living on different continents, yet they’re all connected.

Embracing change

change
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A big many thanks to all bloggers who have helped me in coming out of my cocoon.

From Asia to America and from Australia to Africa, people have taught me to embrace and welcome change in life.

Magical land

magical land

That land of kind people is surrounded by misty mountains but despite being covered by foggy clouds, the people there are learned and informed.

Once, I got a chance to visit that place. I found that the flowery meadows and the lush green fields covered every inch of that land. The beautiful winding streets were covered with the dense green trees. The leaves of the trees were thick and they formed a canopy which provided passersby with shade against the sweltering heat.

That land is known for its large number of libraries. Walking into one such library, I found the people were absorbed in reading.There was a silence and only sound audible was that of the scribbling of pen on paper.

There prevailed an atmosphere of peacefulness. Outside, the green leaves were trying to filter the warmth of sunshine and the shimmering rays of a distant sun were coming dancing through the windows.

I looked at the librarian. That old woman with her wrinkled skin was in her late sixties. I walked towards her and asked her about the book of descriptive writing. She looked up and smiled and adjusting her glasses, she coughed and said, “You’ll find it there on the left side of that shelf.”

Thanking her I moved towards the shelf when I heard her voice. She was saying, “Don’t forget to write something about us.”

I smiled back.

I had no doubt that the woman was wise enough to recognize me as a writer.

Without the description of their houses, this post would not do justice to those kind people.

The people of that magical land keep their houses clean. They grew a variety of flowers in their gardens and the windows of their bedrooms opened in their gardens. So, in the morning when the sunshine falls on the petals, the sweet fragrance escapes and gently strokes the hair of a sound sleeper.

The softness of their touch is so fascinating that a person wastes no time in leaving his bed.

Dear Reader, the people of that land of mesmerizing beauty took a great care of their neighbors. In the evening, when the sky is blue and the soft breeze is blowing, it’s a ritual that neighbors arrange a get together. So, before sun set, the toasty nutty aroma of chocolate cake spreads in their streets and one could see the fairies of mirth and happiness dancing in their backyards.

I remained there for some time and before returning I asked a wizened man how one could find his way to their land. I saw something sparkled in his eyes. Next moment, he smiled and said, “You only need to have a pure heart to find this land of peace and beauty.”

I returned with the promise of writing about them. It was a heartfelt experience and this was the story of my visit to that far away land which lies hidden among those misty mountains.

 

Attock:a bird’s eye view

Attock formerly known as “Campbellpur” is a small and beautiful city of lovely people. Maybe it’s my natural inclination towards my maternal family but I’ve always felt nostalgic feelings for this city.

attock city
Road covered with Sheesham trees (Pictures near Attock city)

I can recall all those pleasure trips to my late grandmother’s house. In those days, the eight hour long journey usually left us tired and by the end we used to make our mother annoyed by asking repeatedly the same question

“How much time before we reached?”

For me, the very names of river Haro and the light grey Kala chitta mountain range hold a sweet scent of love and care.

kalla chitta mountains
Kala Chitta mountain range
river haro
River Haro

In my memories, my grandma’s house thrives as a warm and cozy place which wholeheartedly embraced the large family of more than thirty people. The veranda was large and in that sunlit place of home, we children remained busy in playing for long hours.

In front of the house there was a market. There were some shops of cobblers and all day long we could hear the hammering sound of their tools but in the evening as soon as the color of the sky turned black, the loud bang of shutters announced the closure of market.

In the small city of Attock, people wake up early in the morning and when the sun is still yawning, the city streets burst into life.

natural beauty pictures of attock
Beautiful view of city

Attock is a city of largehearted people where residents are tightly knit with each other.The educational institutions in this “home of gunners” are best. This is a land of brave people and I feel proud to be associated with this city.

cadet college attock

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Writing 101: A map as a muse

photo credit: pictures.org.es

Story: The depressed witch!

© 2015, Barbara W. Beacham

“From her small balcony, the witch watched the world go by.”

Down in her garden, the golden streak of morning sun was tickling the yawning petal. As, the red rose opened its eyes, the witch closed hers.

Tears of failure welled up in her eyes. She had worked really hard to design that plot of destruction. She had given her best to that task but her efforts proved fruitless.

Mustering up her courage, she looked down. Children were playing. The air was filled with the joys of their laughter. She clenched her fists in anger.

She was still twitching with anger, when she saw his face. The shining black eyes of that tall figure forced her to bite her lips.

Standing on a street, the mayor smiled while looking at the barbed wires around witch’s house. He was satisfied about the safety of his town. For, in the darkness of night, the mayor was awake.

The witch’s plans were foiled by him.

(155 words)

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This is my submission to Mondays Finish the Story hosted by Barbra. Barbra is not feeling well and I wish her a speedy recovery. Stay strong Barbra. You’re really brave 🙂

Mondays Finish the Story

The story of a blue jacket!

blue jacket

The sudden movement of the tectonic plates was brutal.

Standing in front of the ruins of what once was a school, I felt the biting cold air strike my face. Trying hard to fight against the freezing cold, I rubbed my hands and called out my team mates to get assemble.

I was leading the relief mission in that earthquake hit area and after issuing necessary orders, I and my teammates started to distribute blankets and warm clothes among the survivors.

I looked at them, they were large in number and huddled together for warmth their faces were telling the story of their ordeal.

The uncertainty of the future was evident from their faces and while, distributing the packets of warm clothes, my eyes caught a glimpse of something familiar. That man in his late twenties was sitting in a group of elderly people. Though, his curly hair looked rough, but his black eyes had still got a same shine in them. I instantly recognized him in my blue jacket.

The sight took me down into a memory lane.  The view of my Hostel room and the face of my roommate appeared in front of my eyes.   That was my favorite jacket and I admired its blue color. My roommate always wanted to wear that jacket, but I was possessive about my belongings. I even not allowed him to touch my things.  And, then the day came when he finally got a chance.

As soon as our last semester ended, the student started to pack their luggage and one day when I woke up I found he was gone. I ran towards the closet and found that he had also taken my blue jacket.

It had been some five years, but deep in my heart, I was still mourning the loss of my favorite jacket. And, now I could see it in front of my eyes.

I had a strange feeling that he had recognized me and I noticed that he was trying to appear as if he had not seen me. Controlling the emotions of my excitement, I took a deep breath and went towards him. My presence startled him, but I smiled and passing him a packet I said,

“Keep it, you need it more than me”.

Holding that packet in his hands, I saw dampness in his eyes and right at that moment, I heard a call for prayer. The Muezzin was saying “Allah ho Akbar” the God is great.

I looked above and felt a tiny drop of rain on my cheeks. I had never realized, that world is full of human sufferings and I had learned a lesson that if my tiny possessions could bring happiness to these faces then what’s the use of keeping them and boasting about them.

(In 2005 the massive earthquake of 7.6 struck the northern areas of Pakistan. The sweep of destruction was heart-rending. The above story is an inspiration from a real incident that I read in a newspaper.

Today, the people of Nepal are in need of our help. Please extend a helping hand to your Nepalese brothers and sisters.)

visit to a magical land!

magical land

That land of kind people is surrounded by misty mountains but despite being covered by foggy clouds, the people in that land are learned and informed.

Once, I got a chance to visit that place. I found that the flowery meadows and the lush green fields covered every inch of that land. The beautiful winding streets were covered with the dense green trees. The leaves of the trees were thick and they formed a canopy which provided passersby with shade against the sweltering heat.

That land is known for its large number of libraries. Walking into one such library, I found the people were absorbed in reading. They were taking notes. There was a silence and only sound audible was that of the scribbling of pen on paper.

There prevailed an atmosphere of peacefulness. Outside the windows, the green leaves were trying to filter the warmth of sunshine and the shimmering rays of a distant sun were coming dancing through the windows.

I looked at the librarian. That old woman with her wrinkled skin was in her late sixties. I walked towards her and asked her about the book of descriptive writing. She looked up and smiled. Adjusting her glasses, she coughed and said, “You’ll find it there on the left side of that shelf.”

I said, “thank you” and moved towards the shelf when I heard her voice. She was saying, “Don’t forget to write something about our land”.

I smiled back. I had no doubt that the woman was wise enough to recognize me as a writer.

So, without the description of their houses, this post would not do justice to those kind people.

The people of that magical land keep their houses neat and clean. They grew a variety of flowers in their gardens. The windows of their bedrooms opened in their gardens. So, in the morning when the sunshine falls on the petals, the sweet fragrance escapes and gently strokes the hair of a sound sleeper.

The softness of their touch is so fascinating that a person wastes no time in leaving his bed.

Dear Reader, the people of that land of mesmerizing beauty took a great care of their neighbors. In the evening, when the sky is blue and the soft breeze is blowing, it’s a ritual that neighbors arrange a get together. So, before the sun could set in completely, the toasty nutty aroma of chocolate cake spreads in their houses and one could see the fairies of mirth and happiness dancing in their backyards.

I remained there for some time and before returning I asked a wizened man how one could find his way to their land.I saw something sparkling in his eyes. He smiled and said, “You only need to have a pure heart to find this land of peace and beauty.”

I returned with the promise of writing about their land. It was a heartfelt experience and this was the story of my visit to that far away land which lies hidden among those misty mountains.

Image courtesy:(pixshark.com/magical-land)

A day of horrible experience!

ambulance

 

 

 

 

That roaring sound of sirens still reverberates in my ears. There was a scene of chaos. The ambulance drivers were constantly shouting and asking for space and I stood there quite petrified.

All we knew was that that there was a suicide attack near High court and as a result lots of police men were injured.

The High Court was quite near. So, as soon as the news broke out, all the students started to receive frantic calls from their homes. The classes got dismissed. We were told that buses were not likely to come. So, I and three of my friends decided to take rickshaw.

As I stepped outside from the University premises, I sensed the smell of horror in the air. Cars whizzed past us and everyone seemed to be in a hurry.

Soon, the sirens of ambulances added fear and anxiety to the scene. The paramedics were shouting, “Step aside. Clear the area.”  I can still recall their panic stricken voices. Those shouting human voices were enough to make me terrified.

My palms were sweating and my heart was racing. I could feel the strange sensation in my head and I was not able to comprehend the situation.

Soon, the traffic police came into action .In no time the road got cleared and the traffic was diverted.

An elderly man approached us and warned us that it was not safe for us to remain there. Terrified as we were, we turned back.

The roads were blocked and it was difficult for our parents to reach us. We had no choice but to wait. We remained there till evening when somehow the brother of my friend managed to come.

As, I reached home, my family took a sigh of relief. My mother was especially worried for me. My ordeal of the day finally got ended.

There is no denying the fact that that was a horrific experience and today while writing it down, I can find some great lessons hidden in it.

On that day my teacher was delivering us an important lecture. He was called outside by his colleague and was informed about the situation but he didn’t show any sign of anxiety and carried out with his lecture.

The traffic police man and those ambulance drivers all kept their nerves. They wholeheartedly fulfilled their duties.

On my way back to home, I saw young people standing outside the Hospital. They seemed eager in donating their blood.

Many police men died on that day and lots of them got injured.

Yes, there is a blood and horror in this narration but deep in this tale there exist a story of courage and bravery.  As, from my teacher to that lonely traffic policeman and from that ambulance driver to all those young people, there prevails a story of great sacrifice and courage.

My experience had taught me that they all performed their duty very well.I’d like to salute them all.

 

Lahore: The city of Lively hearts

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It’s a human nature that he loves and admires the place where he lives. It seems strange but it’s true that the man often appears unaware of this fact in his life.

Last year I visited my sister who lives in another city. It so happened that after five days I started to feel “home sick” and at that very moment I realized that I was actually missing my very own city of “lively hearts”.

Lahore is my city and I had spent my whole childhood here. Lahore is often known as a city of beautiful gardens and colleges.

I personally admires the semi arid climate of my city. So, the scorching sun of July always fills my heart with the warmth of happiness. It is a month in which temperature rises above 40 degree Celsius. This rise in temperature provides “Lahoris” with an excellent opportunity of enjoying their evenings in swimming. Mangoes, watermelon and Grewia Asiatica are among some of the summer fruits which provide some relief from the sweltering summer.

Lahore is a city of lively people. “Lahoris” are popular because of their nature of enjoying each and every moment of their lives. They love to eat and the city is known for its delicious “Lahori cuisine”.

This is only a bird’s eye view of my beautiful city. My people are “amazing” and this city is “worth visiting”.

Dear reader, thank you for taking a virtual tour of my city.

God Bless you!

(image courtesy: Google image and Wikipedia)