The first time I told my father I wanted to get married there was immediate rejection. He was angry and disappointed. The feeling of hopelessness glared so evidently on his face that I felt guilty of even bringing it up. He wanted me to focus on my education and career, first. He wanted me to be independent before stepping into a marriage. He’d repeatedly tell me how important it was for me to have an identity of my own — one that was not limited to only being a daughter or a wife or a mother. I remember him telling…
On November 9th, people across Pakistan celebrate Iqbal Day. Iqbal Day marks the birthday of Pakistan’s national poet, Allama Muhammad Iqbal. He is regarded as one of Pakistan’s founding father because he envisioned Pakistan to be a separate Muslim state. His poetry revolves around themes of reform, Islam and mysticism.
I came across a poem of Iqbal as I Google’d English translations of the poetry he’s written in Urdu and Persian. I read To A Young Man and immediately became captivated by Iqbal’s words. …
It’s taken me 1.5 years to learn this the hard way. I’m here to tell you why you should parent in a way that makes sense to you as opposed to experimenting with everyone else’s opinions on what will work on your child.
I know many of us have the tendency to feel that we must know what to do in every instance. You don’t. Trust me. Sometimes, you don’t need to know why your child is crying or why they are being fussy. Just let them be. I had to learn this the hard way. When my son, Noah…
Rape culture is not a phenomenon unique to Pakistan. It’s been a crime which has affected women across the globe. Yet, whenever I hear of a rape case surfacing in Pakistan — it literally hits home. For females as young as five years old to be raped and left to die is horrifying for anyone to hear let alone for families to endure.
A woman in Pakistan was gang-raped in front of her two kids. This fact is enough to send people to riot for justice. Yet, Pakistanis want to know what the woman was doing, where she was, why…
How sleeping less than 10+ hours gave purpose to my life.
There is nothing I love in this world more than sleeping. It was only after becoming a mother that my sleep cycles were disrupted. Before that, no matter how hectic or busy my schedule was I made sure to sleep ten hours, or more in some cases. My husband would often call me a sloth. Because even after sleeping so much, I’d wake up tired and cranky. Clearly, I’m not a morning person.
After becoming a mother, my sleep schedule shifted. Obviously, so. My life took a 360 turn…
Inspired by Yesika Salgado’s poem, What I Know.
For many, death is a scary thing to think about. The word itself carries so much negative connotation that you don’t really imagine to think of it in a different light. Lately, I’ve been wondering what is it about death that makes human so vulnerable and afraid? I believe the unknown is scary. Not knowing what happens after you die — to yourself and your loved ones is truly a scary thing. Yet when I think about it deeper, I realize that because death is inescapable then why fear it? Maybe I am fearful of leaving what I have behind…
Growing up I often heard that if you want to know how a person is really like, notice his behaviour when he no longer has money and also, notice the behaviour of someone who was once poor and now has money.
My elders often told me that with money comes pride and the urge to live lavishly. Wealth does that to some people. The more money they have, the more they feel entitled, perhaps not in the best ways. People who are wealthy are often correlated to also be people who have power. When you have monetary wealth, the options…
I grew up seeing the women in my family adorn their heads with colourful headscarves. At home, dupattas would loosely hang from their heads. When the doorbell rang, they’d quickly fix it, making sure not a strand of hair would show. On occasions, my mother would choose a scarf with glitter and shimmer to match outfits. My grandma mostly covered her hair with a white dupatta that also wrapped around her chest. My cousins wore the hijab as well; theirs would be perfectly pinned in place. They wore it to school and to the supermarket, to work and to weddings…
As a writer, I have always felt it to be the easiest to convey my feelings, opinions, emotions through writing. For the first time, I am finding it the most difficult to gather what I am feeling into words. For the first time, I feel at a loss of words. In a paradox, I have discovered that though there are so many emotions gathered inside of me, it is still difficult to speak about them and rather impossible to write about them. …