A Letter To Strong And Independent Women

Dear Nataliya, Nadia and Waliya Khan,

May 29, 2015. 

You do not know me but I know you guys quiet a bit. You see, I have been following you as a blogger and as a photographer for almost three years. That is a long time. Sharing a part of you on the internet lets the other person see that version of yourself.

The first time I came across you guys was through a friend who showed me this photograph, taken by Waliyah of your Dad's army uniform. Then I  read about your father passing away from cancer and the hard time you guys went through. I cannot say that its over. Because losing someone is never over. Its an ongoing journey that just gets older as time passes by. That does not make it any easier or any less painful.

Picture taken by Waliya Najib

When I read about your father, I thought to myself that I could feel the pain you guys felt. Because I have lost loved ones in my life. Things that you go through everyday. The fact that he is not at the dining table for breakfast in the morning. Or his empty wardrobe are all reminders of who he was.

I never fully realized what you felt until now. My father was in an accident on April 5. Long story short, he was unconscious for 23 days and underwent 8 major surgeries and numerous minor ones. The first time I saw him, lying on that hospital bed, hooked to a million machines, I thought of you guys. I thought of the hole that is in your lives. And I could not get over on how you do it.

He is a lot better now. He is awake. He is still in ICU but he is doing much better. You see you lost your father and I was about to loose mine. Now I know what you all endured. I know how it felt sitting in that hospital numb to the core, praying for your father's recovery.

Losing someone you love is very hard. You think that you cannot function without them. You believe that that loss is the hardest thing you will ever endure. But when its a parent on that losing table, the story completely changes.

I do not know why I am writing this letter to you guys. Maybe because I want to convey my words to you all. Or because I want you to know that you guys are strong beyond words.

Life is very hard. And the society we live in, is also very cruel. It doesn't wait a second to take advantage of you.

I prayed a lot for your father. He must have been a great man because he has left behind his daughters as his legacy. And when I read Nataliya's thoughts, I see the upbringing you all had. I see the love and care he bestowed upon you guys. And I see you all, living life the way he taught you.

One day, I want to meet you guys in person. I want to see for myself, those people who have been through so much in so little time. I want to experience your courage in real life.

I want you to know that our society needs more girls like you. We need more independent strong women who can handle things themselves, who are not afraid of anyone.

I wish I could say that it will all be okay. And it will be. But it will never be the same.

Your kids will never get to hear about the time you guys moved houses 9 times. Nano won't be there to plan the holidays 6 months before their arrival. Or stock the pantry with their favourite snacks. Or give them endless rides as a horse or a lion.You won't get the chance to have long discussions over a cup of Chai. You won't be able to tell him that his tie is crooked. Or that his laugh makes you laugh. Or that you will miss his views on Imran Khan's second marriage.

August 2, 2015.

My father finally came home on 22nd July 2015. We spent our Eid in the hospital, eating Biryani for breakfast and lunch, eating Almond Delight out of a dish. He had another 3 hour surgery on the third day of Eid, where steel rods were put in his leg. But he is okay. He is home. And he is okay.

You three are an example to many of us. You are a ray of sunshine because looking at you makes me realise that you can get through hardships in life. You can do it. Whether you are a girl or a guy, that is irrelevant. Gender has nothing to do with being strong or standing up for your parents.

People say that boys are ones shoulder in old age. I give these people your example.

My prayers and best wishes are always with you guys. I hope Anya grows up to admire her grandfather as much as I do. I hope that your mom continues to pain, write and inspire many more people. I hope all of you get the best of everything, today and always.

Yours sincerely,

SAP

.........

Day 4, July 2, 2015

12:20 pm

I am on a very good sleeping schedule these days. I mean, I am sleeping less and am still active throughout the day instead of dousing every few seconds. I sleep after Fajr which is 4:00 am in the morning and than wake up at 10:30 am.

Here is the problem though. I haven't been productive like I always dream to be. By that I mean, I have been watching Scandal. That is all I have been doing for the past four days. I would not mind it in normal circumstances but when your life is on the line, it kinda becomes important.

I do not know how to stop. The only way I know is to finish it.

4:38 pm

It was suggested today that I am a big spender. Unlike a loyal obedient wife, I don't save every tiny penny that comes out of my husbands pocket. Instead, I get late night ice creams and eat out on weekends. I buy shoes, clothes and books. I indulge in things that I shouldn't. I spend money when instead I should be saving it to buy property, build houses in Pakistan and buy Gold as a means of saving. Property that will sit there as some sort of back up, houses I will never live in and Gold that will sit in a bank locker only to be weighed and paid Zakat for, every year.

First of all, I don't think that I am a big spender. If I look back on this year, my biggest expense would probably be my books. All of whom are paid by the pocket money I receive. I have bought one pair of shoes, that also in sale. Its not because I could not. Its because I did not need any more shoes. I already have a lot.

The one thing I did go all out on was Abdullah's wardrobe. And trust me, that needed updating. Because it looked like a homeless person's wardrobe where half the clothes didn't fit him and half weren't even his. So, yes. I did buy a lot of stuff. Because I like men to be well dressed. They deserve to.

I am pretty proud of myself for the fact that I have controlled the way I spend money and have bought things that I know I will use. So when you hear someone tell you that what you are doing is wrong. It hurts like a bitch.

It makes you realize the mistake you have made of considering your husbands money as your own. It makes you hate yourself for getting married before finishing your studies, before standing on your own feet, before being independent enough to not listen to someone slap you across your face with words.

The worst part is that we did save money. And we spent it, doing something good for them.

People say that I don't have responsibilities. That's why I can spend money on things like food and clothes. As if living with In laws was not the biggest responsibility ever.

Nonetheless, let me make one thing every clear.

Even when I am responsible for feeding, clothing and educating my family, I am not going to spend money buying houses in places I do not know whether I will live in or not. Instead, I will continue eating out on weekends. And watching movies. And going bowling. I won't buy heaps of gold to add to my stash. Instead, I will be taking a vacation. Somewhere out of country, where my kids will get to experience different cultures and acquire knowledge. I will be spending on Disneyland tickets, ice skating rinks and seeing the view from top of the Burj Khalifa. That is how I will be fulfilling my responsibilities.

And if need be, I will be okay to cut down on all these things. But don't for a second think that I will deprive myself and my family the chance to live a life in the moment in order to make a life in the future.

I have been blessed enough that I was given a lot of things on my wedding. And I intend to keep those as my saving. I don't need a lesson in saving money for the hard times. I don't need to be told to keep it in control.

If there was one thing I was taught, that was to spend what is my budget. And believe me when I say that, even when I am buying a double scoop ice cream, I know that its in my budget. You can set your own budget. You can set rules for how you have spent your life and want to continue doing so.

But please, I don't agree with your views. Please, let me set my own budget. For once, let me do what I want. Let me be who I want to be.

Adieu !

SAP
............

Letters To The Moon # 6

Dear Moon,

Its hard when you are caught in between things. You are in the middle of one of those suspended rope bridges on top of a river, seen on TV which everyone wants to cross, but it turns out that you are stuck. You cannot go forward because what awaits you is more horrifying than the rope under your feet. And you certainly cannot go back. So you stand their, holding onto the side of the bridge with all the strength that you can muster, hoping and praying that the bridge stays secure. And some miracle occurs.

I am caught in between life. I do one thing and the other suffers. And this between, its not a happy place. It is more of a temporary one.

Today, I realised something. That I do not need to be afraid. My biggest strength is standing right in front of me and I was oblivious to it all this time. I do not have to carry all that baggage with me. I do not have to be the bad person by talking back or talking about anything that I want.

All I have to do is be strong. Work hard and hold my ground on the things I love and the things I want to do.

Things are very simple. Its me who makes them complicated thinking about the consequences.

Here is the reality. I am not answerable to anyone. I am an adult. Okay, if you want to take it this way then the only person I need to consult in my decisions is my husband. And lets be honest, he is rarely going to have a problem with what I do with my life. If he is with me, the rest can go to an abandoned parking lot. I do not give a shit.

I am out of my parents jurisdiction. I am my own person now. So I should stop taking crap from all the other people in my life. And start paying attention. Thing is that no one will have a right to say anything if he is with me. So why the hell have I started caring so bloody much about it all ?

Why have I become such a tension freak ? Not every tiny detail is my fault. And I should stop taking it as that.

Yours always,

S

P.S. This is the moment where Abdullah realizes that he is screwed. But I am glad that I married the right person.

Letters To The Husband # 2

Dear Abdullah,

The reason I started these letters was because I like to say thing, explain my thoughts, put them in words or write them down, I like expressing my views. But here is the problem, you don't like listening to me saying the same thing in ten ways for 15 minutes. I like saying everything that is on my mind, even if my theory has ten aspects and you understand it in the first two minutes. My mind needs to hear them out loud, for me to think it over and save it. So I thought, I will just write to you because you do read my blog.

You are a very content man and I love that quality about you. But being content stops you from aspiring for better things in life. It stops you from thinking ahead and you end up exactly where you were ten years ago. Living in the present is amazing but at the same time, we need to at least think about where we want our life to lead. We don't have any control over what happens but we owe it to ourselves to at least try.

Something that my friend's dad once said (which has stayed with me all this time), that I want the quality of my life to be good. When I work hard and get paid more, I am not going to put it all into savings for my retirement, first and foremost I will increase the quality of my life.

Don't get me wrong. I don't envy people who have the luxury to shop in Louise Vuitton or Gucci all day. Or take endless vacations to exotic places. Neither am I ungrateful for everything I have. Because I know that I live better than 90 % of the population in this world. And I probably don't deserve all that.

But I do like to aspire and work for better things in life. Whether that is the opportunity to travel more. Or buying more books. I like the idea of standing in my own apartment, a car parked underneath, studying further, a job that I love and all that being the result of our hard work. I say our, and I mean our. I do not mean YOURS or MINE. I know that a lot of the time, the things I say are either yours or mine. But this is OURS. I want us to have two separate lives intertwined with each others. The freedom to do what we want, at the same time be willing to compromise on certain things. But all that being OUR decision., not yours or mine or anyone else's.

I strayed from my point again. SORRY !

Khair, my point is that while we are very lucky and fortunate to live the way we do. But it's not all I want. It's not all what you should want.

Lately, I have seen you talking about what you want to do in the future. And here is what I think. I think you should do it. You know what we were talking about the other day and I kept interrupting you, telling my ideas. Let's do it. Right now. Right here. At this point in our lives.

If there is one thing I have learnt, it is that there is no time like the present to try.

Let's do something that you love and I have no interest in. But I am willing to try.

Yours,

SAP 

How Does This World Work ?

I have my own bank account.

Every time I say these words, there is this shock that comes with it.

How ?

I still cannot believe that.

I know that today, its very normal to have a bank account. Every kid on the street probably has a credit card.

But for me its not a small thing. I mean, I am 19 and I have my own account with my own money in it. When did that happen ? When did I become capable of doing that ?

There are people in this world, who live there entire lives working hard to get certain things. And I have all those things without even lifting my finger. And I am only 19.

It makes me wonder how this world works.

For me bank accounts portray first jobs, first hard earned money that you slaved for all your life. You started with nursery, went on to primary school and somehow ended up in an office after submitting dozens of CV's, giving interviews, feeling like a complete loser despite having a legit degree. That is what an account is worth to me. It signifies achievements and that sweat your poured into whatever you did to have those few notes transacted in your account.

So it feels weird to me. It feels surreal. Because I am getting all this without working for it. Unless you count surviving a marriage.

Than hell yeah, I deserve this.

I do not count that. So lets just leave it at that.

The thing I am most excited about is seeing my name on that piece of magical card which brings money to you.

Or not, if your account is empty. Which mine is going to be pretty soon.

I am actually going to challenge myself to see how many months I can survive before my bank balance goes zero.

...SAP...

Pir-e-Kamil !

Aab e Hayyat !

Its first episode is right in front of me. And I do not know what to do.

I love Pir e Kamil. Love is a very small word to describe what I feel for this book. Its that book. The book that changes your life.

How you think about it. How you live it. How you do anything.

I cannot decide whether I should read it or not. I know I am not going to able to contain myself. But I just want to take a moment and remember what it felt like to start this book. Once again, this book is going to change my life.

I have been waiting for this book since 2008. That was the year that I read Pir E Kamil. I was 13. Barely old enough to understand the book. My Khala gifted this book to my elder brother on his result after he told her how much he had loved reading a little bit of it.

Huzaifa used to write about this book in every Slam Diary that I made. And he kept telling people to read it. His only advice was read Pir e Kamil. It will change your world.

And he was right.

Because it did change my world.

Whenever I go back to this book, I start seeing it in a different light. I learn something new, something incredible. The book is like a maze, the more you explore it, the more you keep finding treasures.

I wish I had the ability to write just 1 percent as Umera Ahmed does. But than, its a gift.

After reading this book for the first time, I am never going to have that. I am never going to be able to read it again. To have that feeling where you know you are reading an incredible book and you do not know what is to come.

One thing is certain, I will love this book no matter how the story folds out.

...SAP...

30 Day Writing Challenge, Day 1

The other day I was telling my friend, how my writing has become more of a reality show script than what I wanted. So I decided to take matters into my own hands and try out one of the writing challenges. Because I want to write fiction. I saw a couple of challenges and this 30 Day Writing Challenge stood out the most.

So that is what I will be doing for this month.

Day 1 —Select a book at random in the room.  Find a novel or short story, copy down the last sentence and use this line as the first line of your new story.

The book I chose was The Girl Who Played With Fire by Steig Larsson, mainly because it was on my side table. 

She was going to need it, or she would die.

He thought about all the things that had gone wrong in his calm and serene life.

Three days ago, he was sitting in Germany, Skyping with his kids back home and telling them that he had gotten the i-pod and the American Girl doll, that they wanted. He had asked about her, but she was busy making dinner. So obviously, he did not persist and talked to the rest of his family and than went to sleep.

And now here he was, sitting on the cold hospital bench, hands clenching his throbbing forehead, being told that it was over. Unless some miracle happened.

She was going to need everyone's prayers.

Their story was very simple. They had met through family friends and had instantly liked each other. He had introduced her to his parents, thinking that they would reject her but they had liked her more than him. After that it was a matter of months.

They had gotten engaged among family and friends, all the time being told how lucky they were to marry the one they loved.

After an year came Mehndi, Baraat and the reception. Again they were looked upon as a very fortunate couple.

And now, ten years later, they had two beautiful kids, a well decorated house and an incredible partner.

They had everything.

Until that damned driver, who had shattered their perfect mirror of a life in 5 minutes and a single turn.

Now she lay in that spotless white bed, hooked up to a million machines, tubes going in and out of her, after giving up on him and their life together.

He sat there, cold and helpless, waiting for his worst fears to be confirmed and the tears to flow, wondering how his luck had changed in ten years.

...SAP...

She Was Everything

I missed my mom.

In 50 'C weather, grunting and complaining, we all went to Umm Saeed to ride and drive Buggies. This was such a familiar yet old sight that it rejuvenated me. And I went all crazy, could not wait to do stunts etc person.

So there I am, refusing to sit with anyone and driving the buggies at least thrice more than everyone else. By this point, I am sure I was labeled as a very insane "Bahu" who had not seen a thing in her life. 

In my defense though, I refused to sit with Mr A. Because he drove so damn slow.

But my loving remarks made him see the light.

Which resulted in both of us going a little over board and in our excitement, we got hurt. 

One Friday, we were getting married. The next we were in need of stitches. 

Its an incredible sight with you bleeding, and ten people fussing over you, giving their advice and trying their best to implement it as well. 

Than we went on to the sea side. I was sitting there, my face puffy and swollen, stars in my eyes, and all I wanted was Amma.

Mr A's whole family was there, playing and joking around, asking about us and showing there concern at every 15 minute interval. 

But it was not the same. 

Sitting under that jet black sky, over looking the
greys and blues of the never ending sea, surrounded by yellows and oranges of the desert, I just wanted to lie in my mom's lap and close my eyes.

Forget everything else. 

I missed my mom. 

In that moment, she was everything.

......

The Creative Me # Painting An Aztec Eiffel Tower

Keeping up with my new goal of updating this blog. I am going to start another new project called, "The Creative Me". Now, I am not an artist but from time to time, my creative side likes to peak out and show itself. And those rare moments find themselves captured in different things, like an idea or a sketch.

I love doing different things. And I love originality. Even if something has been done over and over and I love it, I tend to think of a different way to execute it.

I have incorporated Tribal or Aztec print in the tower because its crazy trendy right now and I absolutely love it.

I have been wanting to paint an Eiffel Tower in my room for quiet some time now. But it got delayed for one thing or another. I finally finished it. And the best part is that I managed to take pictures during the process.

The only reason I was able to do that was because it took me a week to finish painting it.

Its really easy. It takes you about five hours from sketching to painting the tower.

But if you are lazy like me or have irritating guests staying over, it might take you longer.

The sketching part which was way easier than I had thought.

A much clear shot of the pencil sketch. 

At this point, I was sure that I had ruined the wall. Because it looked so bad.

A little better but I was still skeptical.

Now it had started to come around and look like an Eiffel Tower.

Chevron is my 4th or 5th love. 

A table was needed because I am only 5'4. I came this close to falling off the table at least thrice.

Tada !!!!! The magical tower with its full glory. Without the top, it looks like a king without a crown.

Here you go ! This is what I call beauty. I was going to cry.

One of the things, I suck at, taking pictures. Need a professional photographer in my life !

By this point, I had cleaned my room, hence a much presentable state of my room.

Me, trying to act like a photographer and one picture did turn out alright. So proud ! 

....SAP....

Book Review: Revolution 2020 by Chetan Bhagat

Goodread's Review:

Once upon a time, in small-town India, there lived two intelligent boys.
One wanted to use his intelligence to make money.
One wanted to use his intelligence to create a revolution.
The problem was, they both loved the same girl.

Welcome to Revolution 2020. A story about childhood friends Gopal, Raghav and Aarti who struggle to find success and love in Varanasi. However, it isn't easy to achieve this in an unfair society that rewards the corrupt. As Gopal gives in to the system, and Raghav fights it, who will win?

Published: 2011
Author: Chetan Bhagat
Pages: 296
Genre: Contemporary, Asian Literature 
My rating: 4/5

I loved this book. I loved everything about it. The story is being told by a person whose point of view is changed by life itself and he does not do all good things. But somehow when you are reading it and even when he is handing out bribes to get the work done, he becomes the hero. I realized that being the narrative helps the character share their point of view, justifying their actions.

The main theme of the book was grate. I loved how Gopal struggles to fulfill the wishes of his father and become a big man. I also loved how his only goal was to make money. Ordinarily, I would have thought that that is very materialistic. But I was like, he does not have money to eat. He is right to set that goal. Gopal takes things into his own hands and decides that life will not give him anything by doing the right thing, so he decided how to get everything himself. Screw life. And I agree. 

But somehow, in between this great battle of earning money and being with the girl Aarti, he has loved all his life, he loses himself. He loses what made him, him. Raghav makes him realize what he has lost. And he somehow tries to make things right. He gives the most important thing in his life, which I have to say, I could not have done that. 

I loved the controversy between him and Raghav. Gopal is bribing and doing what everyone else does and Raghav wants to change that exact system. I loved how Gopal asks the writer at the end whether he thinks he is a good man. I mean, the man gave up his most priceless thing and still isn't sure of his goodness.

P.S. I LOVE the cover of this book. The colour combination is so awesome. I have been drooling over it since its been in my hands.

...SAP...

Happy Birthday Minion !

Batman sign cake made by me. 

Today is my baby brothers birthday. He turned 7. He is probably the first kid who has marked his birthday on the calender,  a month ago and we were reminded everyday of it. I was told to buy presents for him and to act surprized. He wanted a Batman cake and I, honestly, was not sure whether the cake will end up like it or not. But surprisingly, it did.

I still remember the day he was born. We were in Jeddah, but my dad was in Riyadh, miles away and he had lost his job. And we all were in the middle of crises. When my dad came home after meeting my mom and the baby, he had already forgotten two of the names my mom had suggested for my baby brother. We ended up naming him Moawiz which people used to pronounce as Mouse. The same day my dad got an offer from Qatar. And our life turned around. Amma called him "The Passport of Qatar".

Moawiz, when he was about 3 years old.

Time has passed by like running water. One second we were fighting with each other over dressing him up in cute clothes and the next, he is choosing his own clothes. People always ask, who is he like the most ? I used to reply, me. But truth is, he has a bit of each of us in him. He can stand for hours looking at himself in the mirror, combing his hair like Huzaifa. He is never short of money and he stomps off in anger like Muaaz. And he eats exactly like me. He already is in love with books. He won't believe what anyone is saying till he has asked at least 3 people. He is the kid who gets smothered with love and kisses by strangers but when it comes to scolding, he gets scolded five times for a single misdeed. Even now life is moving on way too fast. Instead of taking on a bus's speed, it has taken an aeroplane's. He is already 7.

Whenever someone talks about him as a baby, he will go like, I know, I was such a cute baby and than Bhai Jaan stepped on me.This kid got published in a magazine couple of weeks ago and the story, ofcourse was about pirates. I always wake up to find him standing by my bedside, smiling creepily, to annoy me.

Happy B'day Kiddo ! You always ask me, who my favourite brother is. Truth is, you have made it impossible for me to choose. Just remember, always be the person you are today. This life is like the moon. It looks beautiful from the outside but when you go inside it, you see all the scars and failures etched into it. But you have to remember and hold on to that beauty and hope in order to turn those scars of failure into the marks of your success and happiness. After all even a diamond is a stone. So its all about how you look at things. You brought so much happiness in our lives that we never imagined. You truly were a shining star in those dark times. I wish you all the very best for your life.

First day of school.

I have no idea what he trying to do.

Reading Garfield like a boss. 

...SAP...

I Miss Her

My moms not home. She has been gone since last Friday. And she left me in charge. Not the, "look after your siblings and order food kind of in charge" but the "cook your own food and do all the chores and make sure the house does not burn down" in charge. I did not find it that hard. And I was so looking forward to one week without any parental supervision to kick start my vacations. Unfortunately, that did not happen. 

A while back my gum started throbbing and I got up to go and show it to my mom and ask her what is wrong with it. Only to realise that she is not home. Now, I am sitting with my head in my arms, like a little baby, missing my mom. I just want to go, lay my head on her lap and stay there for ever. But she is not here. And that sucks. I miss her cheery voice and the smile that greets my crappy mood every morning. I want to hear her say the same thing to like ten persons simultaneously.

I have this sinking feeling in my stomach and all I can think of is that my mom only went for a week. She will be back tomorrow. What about the people whose moms leave them forever ? What do they do ? Who do they go to when they cannot figure out their life, when they are in pain and only their moms can understand them, when they want to be pampered. How do they get over the fact that they will never see her again ? Never see her smile, never hear her scold them, never eat the food she cooks, never wear the clothes she folds for them.

"Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart. " -Pooh

Just the fact that my mom is there for me is my best comfort. She is my rock. And I miss her. I miss her like you miss sunshine in the winters or you miss pizza after your favourite pizza place shuts down. I miss her.

...SAP...

A Letter To My Dad

February 14, 2013

Dear Abbu,

I do not know from where to start, so I guess I will start with I love you. I love you to moon and back. And honestly, I never can imagine my life without you. You are the most important person in my life and will always be. I love how when at 10 in the night (which is late for you) I tell you I need something, you always go get it for me. I love how you always crush my hand every SINGLE time I shake yours. I remember I use to tell every single person that my dad is a Gold Medalist because I always have been so proud to be your daughter.

Abbu, you are my everything. You are my one in a million. I do not need the moon to come out or the sun to shine because I have you. You are better than Koh-I-Noor ( the worlds largest and priceless diamond), Bugatti Veyron, Taj Mehal or all of my favourite books. I love books and writing. You and mom are the only two people who are better than any book, any piece of writing, any poem, any poet and any author out there in the world.

I cannot compare you to anything in this world because you simply are one of a kind. I look at you and I see a person beyond awesome. I see someone whose kindness to strangers amazes me everyday. Who is calm before the biggest storm comes, at even the worst disasters or Huzaifa crashing his car for the millionth time.  I see kindness, compassion, determination, calmness, hard work, beauty. I see perfection.My deepest desire is to be exactly like you, like the person who has loved and pampered me for the past 17 years and will always continue to do so. I love you. I love the guy who would not notice that he needs new shoes or a new shirt, who would think ten times before buying a single thing for himself and would not think twice before getting the same thing for his kids.

I remember once, someone said to you that all your kids have the latest cell phones in their hands whereas you use the same old one, why ? You laughed and said, well their dad is an Architect and mine, unfortunately is dead. I wish I could have met Dada because I bet you are exactly like him.

It is amazing whoever meets Asad Latif Piracha, even for the first time says, what a remarkable man. Well, I happen to be the daughter of that same remarkable man, and the ONLY one.

When other fathers were stopping their daughter from doing stupid things, you were prompting me and were fully involved. I remember how you always dared us to see who goes the furthest in the sea. The day when you took me to the Bakra Mandi in Pakistan on my insistence. When you made me drive your car at 11. When you showed us Abu Hamour on the bonnet of your car. I, now realise that you have never given the authority to Huzaifa to mind me, at times it is the other way around. I never knew that a thing called discrimination existed between sons and daughters in the world because I am the one being favoured at home.

Every "My favourite personality" or "Role Model" essay has been written on you. Growing up I have always wanted to be like you. The way you smile, a very rare one once in a while and I can sense it being sent from your heart. You know why I love Math, because you love Math. Why I eat peas, because you eat peas. Why money is not important to me, because it is not important to you. Why my anger is so impulsive, because yours is as well. Why I have 1.5 sketching skills, because you have like 100% sketching skills.

I am sorry. For all the times I was a jerk, brat and an ass. For things that I have done wrong. For being a disappointment at times.

Thank you. For asking for a daughter from Allah. Thank you, for loving me unconditionally. Thank you for always being there for me. Thank you, for ignoring all my mistakes. Thank you, for never scolding me. Thank you, for always taking my side. (Please, continue to do so in the future) Thank you, for never imposing anything on me. Thank you, for believing in me. Thank you, for letting us do things our way. Thank you, for being who you are. Thank you, for being my dad.

I promise to be a better person. Well, I promise to try and be like you, that will automatically make me a good person. I promise you that one day, I will make you proud.

Happy Birthday ! May you live thousand years more. May the worlds happiness and success be yours, today and always. May you always remain like you are today.

I am glad that I am your daughter and that I can look up to you anytime. I hope someday I become exactly like the person you are today.

Yours always,
Your one and only daughter.

P.S. Happy Half A Century ! That does make you old.

...SAP...

A Blessing In Disguise

I have been so busy lately that I fully understand how adults live their lives. How they do ten things in one day ? I mean I go somewhere in a day and then I am passed out. My fuel tank gets empty just after a single outing in a day. But for the past week or so, I have had to do so many things at once. Recently I literally had dinner and then shopped in my uniform. I felt like school was never off for me. I have been coming home at 5 pm or 11 pm without a break in between. I don't live like this.

Anyway, we were going to the Indonesian Embassy this past Sunday and there was this 14 year old girl with us. She is a very sweet, intelligent, one of those girls who is liked by all. She is involved in extra curricular activities too and so we know each other.  And she told me this amazing story of her life. She goes like you know I am adopted. And I am like ooh congratulations. Yes. My reaction was very bad. Anyway she further goes on that her parents adopted her from her mom's sister. So its a family adoption but nonetheless an adoption. All I could think was of that now she is going to tell me that she hates her parents and wishes she could go back to her birth parents. But she said the total opposite. She goes like, I came to know about myself through my grandparents last year. And my mom does not know this. I do not want her to know because it will hurt her very badly. She has already been hurt a lot and has faced a lot of problems because she did not have any kids. My dad knows that I know. I love my parents more than anything else in the world. I would never leave them or go back to my birth parents. I love my birth parents too. But they will always be my Khala (Aunt) and Khalo (Uncle). 

I have a twin. He is totally opposite to me. I am loud and he is quiet. I am healthy and he is skinny. I am careless and he is responsible. I love him because I have always wanted a brother and now I have one. I just wish that my family could stop pretending that we are cousins when we are siblings. Because sometimes being the only kid drives me crazy. But I would not want to change anything. I want to grow up, be independent and support my parents. I want my parents to be proud of me. I want to take care of them. 

And my mouth is hanging wide open and I feel nostalgic. Because the few adoption cases I have witnessed have all ended up in a disaster by the kid being a jerk and a fool. I hugged her. I said to her that do not ever let go of your parents hand. Be who you are today. In this era kids your age are very seldom as responsible as you are. I am so happy that being only 14 you know what is right and wrong, when at times even I do not.  And always be like this. 

And I said that you are an example that yes, sometimes adoption does makes everything better. Its a blessing in disguise. You are just making the world a better place by giving kids what you can. Why does it matter if their genes do not match yours ? Their hearts will match yours. Their love and care will. You just wait for it. You just wait for the miracle. 

...SAP...