Ye Meri Hai Kahani ✍️ 🪽

Kafan is an unstitched white sheet used for cacooning the dead body. Kafan doesn't sees age, class, religion, or castle. It welcomes death like a bossom friend, as they meet regularly . We all know death will envelope us one day, so we try to run away from it by being lost amidst the loud sham of this world.  Have you ever thought of meeting death with a smile on face, and contentment in heart?  I have met death-in the form of family members fading away due to chronic diseases, accidents, and old ages. I faced another death this September. I received a video call from Anne Frank House, Amsterdam, It was from Zeeshan, “ Mayra, please go to the terrace with a water bottle, and sit with our favourite plant .” The face on the other side isn't much familiar to me, I met Zeeshan in the half rainy July.  Ignoring his words, I sat on the bundle of unarranged clothes while books were scattered nearby. It was a busy Sunday. Sundays are the busiest as the work is much hectic than cl...

I learned it the hard way. I learned it the hard way. The day I was guided in 2022, I realised important details about my life and its purpose. The greatest gift to mankind - hidayah. ✨🌸 Slowly and gradually, I tried removing the haram music, friendships, relationship, etiquettes, and a few secret aspects of my life, my Nafs (نَفْس)- an Arabic word occurring in the Quran, literally meaning "self", and has been translated as "psyche", "ego" or "soul,” tried to stop me, it was harsh and painful for me to let it all go.   Who doesn't want to let go of all the desires we hold inside? Getting rid of it is not something that is required of the Muslim; rather what is required of him is to refrain from using it in haram (prohibited) ways, and to use it in the ways that Allah (Glory be to Him) has permitted. Desires are sugarcoated with fun, pleasure; delicious as the first bite of butter falky pie crust after a harsh day. Desires capsules us on seventh h...

Four years ago (today), Ms Neha Mahanta (now an amazing Prof.) had the responsibility of making the WhatsApp group for our Prof. Chakravarty. We get to choose our assignment on C ourtly Love  that too from the era when kings used to have pearls instead of lights in their provinces, in the era where not just chivalry but love is dead as well.  The messed up Masters schedule made us scared even though we practiced well for the Presentation. Ms Ekta Chauhan and Ms Manisha Yadav (now a Prof. herself *giggles*) were laughing at the audacity of another group telling us that we had prepared well, as they saw us skipping the dinner and breakfast, while roaming with a stern face, with a bundle of yellow sheets.  Courtly Love, romantic chivalry, pissing at others ( there's a whole ritual), fighting with your best friends for the sake of a beautiful face (coral lips, crystal eyes *chuckles*). The world is still the same , no wonder I need to dive into the historical ocean to find wh...

Memories are our own histories none will ever know. The subconscious self captures the millions of tabs open just like the child, child with a computer with different searches from the coolest plants, animals to insects on earth.  We all hold that in our head,  Right?  If Your head is sane! You are lying; living' a lie.  History lies in the brain with roads of nostalgic and tragic lanes.  The buildings of memories are on rent with some unwanted strangers while other apartments are occupied with the best of people. There's always a fresh lane green grass at the front and back porch, but the balcony plants are brown and crispy with tender eaves because of scorching thoughts that never leave anyone. 🍂 The chandelier is dull with dust of the storm this dunya holds, while the light it reflects at the darkest nights shows some hope- hope to survive amongst the toughest battles our hearts hold. I don't live in the moment; always concerned about the future of past clut...

Running away to a nearby Star Bakery which was established before Partition of India (1947), I've thousands of thoughts in my head, tangled with an emotion of betrayal. I thought of running away from home when I felt the racing heartbeat, shortness of breath, dizziness, trembling and muscle tensions. But I failed to run away from my inner self, trembling behind the chamber of heart. 🫀 I ordered three scoops of ice cream which I know most hated, so my body will work on unwelcome emotions. I hate eating! I wanted to welcome my reflexes to these unwelcomed emotions.  I picked up my diary and there was an old picture of you with a ragged crocs and faded tee 👕 hidden between my favourite pages livin' in the past continuous tense.  I tore it half and thought of putting it in the furnace behind the bakery where delicious rusks and pan cakes are baked.  Did I tear it, did I not? That is still a question. I'm neither Shakespeare nor Kafka to elaborate the essence of cliche desir...