GLASS WORKS

A part of me

A sneak peak from Redemption

Ayaan's Diaries

“Na Perwa Humari Zara Tum Ne Ki

Gye Chor, Achi Wafa Tum Ne Ki!

Rulati Hai Tujh Ko Juddai Meri

Nahin Uss Mein Kuch Bhi Bhalai Meri

Ye Keh Ker Vo Kuch Dair Tak Chup Raha

Diya Phir Dikha Ker Ye Kehne Laga

Samajhti Hai Tu Ho Gaya Kya Issay?

Tere Aanasuon Ne Bhujaya Issay!”

-Allama Iqbal

(Maa ki dua)

You’re a different person at home, a different person at school, a different person at work. You are never you, but you are everybody else. You change with the surrounding, with people and with time. I get that but what about the person you morph into when the doors are sealed shut and the lights are out? What about the lonely, insecure, teary-eyed, filthy, grey rag lying in the corner? Who is that?

Maybe, that’s how he is. Player boy at school, mama’s boy at home and just a worthless, waste of space when nobody’s watching.

"Chasm" by Safiya Ejaz Yousufzai 

Every day, I sit down to write something; a sentence, a paragraph to set the words in motion; a long, endless chain of meaningless rants, mere futile attempts to attain enchantment and healing.

As I sit with my head dipped behind the stacks of notebooks, the world unpeels its magnificent myths and legends.

And that’s the sad part, I guess. I’m trying to search for magic in a blank sheet of paper while it’s happening all around me; In the way the stars twinkle and perish, in the way water droplets fall from the sky like mercy.

Light or dark-my silhouette is transfixed behind the glimmering square.

A lunatic, a fool, a poet. That’s who I am. I write hollow words; fruitless verses wrapped in fiction.

My head pounded with a concentrated headache as I set down the pen clutched in my hands.

It’s funny, I thought; Flames burn and die out, the winds howl and whistle, the Earth shakes as it spews out its fiery contents and the waves flow and crash onto the shore; as I bow down to read the haphazard array of meaningless words scribbled down on the white leafs in front of me.

I stood up, to look at the grayed landscape of Peshawar. The rusted aluminum window panes framed the melancholic scenery before me. A landscape of despair and gloom-a sulfurous pit; where murders and tyrants walk with their head held high and the weak, the feeble and the broken lie shelter less.

I sealed the curtains shut and walked back into the porch.

The skies were laced with stars and the moon was full and heavy. The grass crunched beneath my bare feet as I aimlessly strolled there.

Ceasura and Clockwork (Teaser)[Chapter 15]

Tick Tok. Tick tok. Tick Tok. I blankly stared at the wall clock hung on the yellowed, plastered walls of my room. I thought to myself, the hands are moving; the grains are falling and piling up. Everything has an order-a fixed pace, a constant motion. It’s funny how human beings want to navigate, explore and compartmentalize nature. How we always want the last say, how we’re dead scared of everything that’s out of our hands.

"Ammi" by Safiya Ejaz Yousufzai

“The cosmos glitters and spreads out, like dust. The sun rises up and goes back to sleep. The world; wobbles and tumbles down with every ticking second.

-And we’re all alone. She sobbed. We’re like a tiny drop in an ocean; ever-expanding. So, I wake up every day and fight my demons-I push through the pain, just to see you smile. I keep loving you, even though you’re just a shred of glass that’s slicing through my soul.”

A tear rolled down my mother’s cheek as she spoke. Her voice came out, rough and raspy-broken.