I.Robot !

The night is dark, raindrops falling...pitt....patteer...on the neighbour's flat balcony steel shed.

And suddenly at 5:30 am a shrill sound comes out making my air conditioners fan sound lesser.

Five beeps one after other with a slight gap of two or three seconds. The shrill sound will go on until my hand reaches out for the sound making device.

Now its a big decission waiting for me....which button should I press ????

One says...SNOOZE....other one was....STOP.

I think this is the meanest and crulest device I ever had to buy to keep myself on time.

It is just few hours ago I set the alarm how time can be so ruthless?

I press snooze....even five minutes more looks like the best luxury right now.

But what had happened if I presses the stop....even though if I pressed the STOP, I actually had to start.

After two hours of continuos preparation of my husbands departure for his job and me, I finally was ready to wait for my van. It comes on time as usuall carrying few nice and neat looking people waiting to become robot.

Yeah...sure few of them might think that they are humans but I know they are not. They are ROBOTS in disguise.

And all of those robots including me have a definite set of rules....

1. A robot may not injure a human being or allow a human being to come to harm.

2. A robot must obey orders given to it by human beings except where such orders would not match with the First Law.

3. A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not match the First or Second Law.

When me, Robot reach my work place I always recharge my battery, by taking tea...or little gossip...or little chat with other robots.

Fortunately, the device which makes me robot in the morning change me into human again after 5:00 pm.

I become again a normal human who have a family, old mother to take care and let husband take care of me.

I, robot quite forget what had happened to me while I was human. And human always keeps memory of what had happened even when I was robot.

Suddenly or fortunately, its friday....its time for me to become human for two continuos days.

hmmmm.....

Broken Dreams !

(HE = my MAKER, ALLAH)

I wrote this a few weeks after everything I thought I cared for in my life shattered, and I found myself alone, starting over, and hurting so much I didn't know how to go on.

I wrote it by faith then, for I could not see the beauty of new dreams, or hope of joy returned, or that the ache in my heart would ever lessen and the sting fade, but then, I chose to sing, to hold on, because HE promised that sorrow would turn to joy...someday.

Today, I look back, and it was a long and dark journey, and I may always carry a few little scars in my heart, but HE did not fail.

HE brought more joy, more beauty, more than I ever could have hoped for and I see HIS hand.It wasn't HIS plan that I have a broken heart, but HE knew what was best in the end.

HE gave me strength to let go, to face the shatteredness that was a result of my own choice, yes, but worked HIS plan over the mistakes, and made something beautiful from what seemed like brokenness.

And it gives me hope to keep trusting the outworking of HIS will in my life. It may take time, but I'll keep singing, keep trusting, keep believing that HIS way is perfect.

Always perfect.

To ALLAH be all glory.



I saw my dearest dreams crumble, broken into a thousand pieces, and fall to the ground. They were worthless that way, and with trembling heart, I bent to try to gather the pieces back up and make sense of the emptiness that closed in around me.

For one small moment, I thought I was alone in the world. No one knew that what I lived for, what I had hoped for so long would be a reality, was now but a pile of rubbish.

And perhaps... no one would care....hmmmm

But my tears, falling to the ground, unseen by any human eye, were not unseen by HIM.

HE knew my grief, HE saw my broken dreams, and HE cared.

The dreams that each of us holds dear, the fragile things that our hearts long for, that we wait for all our lives, do shatter sometimes.

All of us have tasted of the bitter sorrow that clutches the heart as those beautiful things we thought were within our reach tumbled to the ground, and all that was left was but a pile of broken pieces.

This is no uncommon fate. (hmm...dil ko bhalanay k leye Ghalib....)

Yet, there has not one thing, one tiniest of disappointments pained our hearts, but that HIS watchful eye has taken it in. HE has put all of our tears into HIS bottle. HE knows. HE cares.

Are you tired of chasing pretty rainbows?

Are you tired of spinning round and round?

Wrap up all those shattered dreams of your life.

When I first looked up from my dreams, and with painful heart looked at the road ahead of me, I did not think I could go on.

I could not see HIM that day. It was all too dark,

but HE was right by my side...hmm... I couldn't feel HIM there, but HE was holding me in HIS arms.

I did not know if I could give up my broken dreams, so much a part of me they seemed.

But HE was waiting to take them, and even to give me the courage strength to let go.

But ALLAH is no arbitrary breaker of dreams. HE sees each one of our hearts and desires. HE knows our dreams better than we do, and HE wants to give us the very best, much better than what we thought we wanted most of all.

We cannot see HIS plan, but if we can learn to understand HIS purpose in pain, we have gained a blessing that is indeed rare.In the breaking of our dreams, HE wants to take us yet another step higher.

HE desires for us to trust HIM with our hearts, but we hold on so tightly.

We are afraid to let go, and let HIM have what is dearest and nearest us. And HE knows that unless we are broken first, we may never realize we need to let go.

And HE is able to turn sorrow into joy.When we give HIM our dreams, HE doesn't just take away the broken pieces.

Ahh....no. HE does much more than that.When at last, I let go of the pieces I was holding on to so tightly, when I finally gave HIM my dreams, my hope, my everything, HE gathered them all up, and began to rebuild them into something more beautiful than I could ever imagine.

It is not the promise of an easy pathway, nor of constant 'sunshine' that will bring us the contentment and happiness to wait on HIM to fulfill our dreams.

It is the choice that we make, to see beyond the pain, and to trust HIS purpose.

HE has promised us strength to sing, even during the darkest moments, and this is the key to joy that is stronger, even than all our shattered dreams.I do not know if the dreams I gave to ALLAH not long ago will ever be mine again.

I cannot see ahead to know what the future holds. There are still tears in my eyes, and yet I can sing. I choose to sing, and to go on my journey, trusting that in HIS perfect time, my dreams- beyond my highest of expectations- will come true, someday.

So dear myself, HE will build your dreams too, if you'll let HIM.

To ALLAH be all glory.

Sufism !

"When I come to Love, I am ashamed of allthat I have ever said about Love."-- Rumi

Mansur uttered "Ana'l-Haqq" - I am the truth - and was condemned to death for it .

It was his intolerably heretical claim to have achieved unity with the Devine that made him the only Sufi martyr in history.

After the long departure, finaly with the help of an old man, Layla and Majnun faced each other.

The old man tugged on her arm, but Layla could not move.

"Noble Sir", she pleaded, "this far but no farther. Even now I am like a burning candle; one step closer to the fire and I shall be consumed completely. "

Majnun stumbled forward and suddenly under the dome of heaven, Layla and Majnun faced eachother.

The two lovers stared at one another, drunk with the wine of love. Yet though they were now close enough to touch, they knew that such wine could be tested only in paradise. A breath, a sigh, a stifled cry, and Majnun turned and run from the groove back into the desert, vanishing like a shadow into the night.

Orphaned at a young age, Rabia(Rabia of Basra 717 - 801) became a slave and the sexual property of her master. Yet, she longed throughtout her life to experience mystical union with God.

It was during one of these nightly meditations that her master first noticed a blinding nimbus of light shinning above her head, illuminating the entire house he immediately set Rabia free, allowing her to go into the desert to pursue the Way.

Rabia's poetry betrays a profoundly intimate encounter with God :

You are my breath,

My hope,

My companion,

My craving,

My abundant wealth.

Without You - my life, my LOVE -

I would never have wondered across these endless countries.....

I look everywhere for Your love -

Then I am suddenly filled with it.

O Captain of my Heart,

Radiant Eye of Yearning in my breast,

I will never be free from YOU

As long as I live.

Be satisfied with me, Love,

And I am satisfied.

And now....its Laal Shahbaaz Qalander....in his mystic DHAMAAL. His eyes are closed seems like he dont know where he is and what his purpose in this world. He who knows only that there is HIS GOD somewhere and he can clearly see HIM.... He said once about his Tasawwuf that " It begins with the thought of GOD / ALLAH and then there is no end of it"

Apnay dost key muhabbat mein

Ruqs kanna'n hon mein aagh per

Jhoomta hon kabhi khaakh mein

Loot-ta hon or kabhi kantoo'n per

Ghoomta hon mein muhabbat mein

Badnaam ho gaya hon mein tum say

Iltaja kerta hon k tum mere pass

Aao ! Mein badnaami say nahi darta orr

Bazaaro'n mein nachnay say nahi darta

Poetry by Moulana Rumi : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zTHRl_GBeGA

Tina Petrova about Sufism : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GJDeQRLhar4

Defination : The meaning of Sufism is the selfless expiriencing of the truth.

Me just a drop of water has mixed myself into the sea and now I have lost myself. I dont know which way I have to turn....whether downwards or upwards lie my destiny.

Do I actually belong here ?????? hmmm....

(Few incidents were taking from : No god but God by Reza Aslan)

May I romantic with you???

I feel romantic whenever I see Rajesh Khanna in an outdated outfit but extremely smart lip singing a song, "Yeah shaam mastani madhosh keye jaye" with whistling intervals and strikingly beautiful heroin in his sight and with beautiful scenery around... ohh...gosh...I feel romantic.

Or when I listen " Jiss galli mein tera ghar na ho sajna uss galli say hamain tu guzarna nahi"(Mukesh) , or when I am listening to, " Tum sang naina lagay manay nahi jee a ra" (Rubina Badar) , sometimes I suddenly fell into the nausea or the trance or charisma of ," Woh Ishq jo hum say rooth gaya" (Farida Khanum). I couldnt help falling in the background of these songs or the poets who wrote them or the people who sung these songs or ghazal.

No offense, "baat tu sach hay per baat hay ruswayee key", but I couldn't find any single person around me worth these lyrics or music. I want to picture my husband or my friends or my lover in these songs but couldn't. There is something more in these songs..more than our worldly love...more than our narrow desires.

I wonder what was going on at that time with the poet who wrote the lyrics or with the singer who sung them...who...they were picturing in their heart? Were their picture is of flesh and blood???

"Jiss chaman mein tere pag mein kantay chubhay....uss chaman say hamain phool chunna nahi", or, " tum ko manao kaisay manay nahi jee a raa".... I only feel this love or loyalty or desire or falling only towards my MAKER - Allah.

Only HE - ALLAH worth these lyrics, no flesh can have such striking personality that our one glimpse on him/her explode such feelings of being romantic inside us.

Now, I don't want to be the offensive one, who think of Allah while listening to music as in Islam music is forbided. Nor I can say this to ALLAH that I want to be romantic with YOU.

But, this is how it is with me....I cant help it...whenever I see flowers blooming...clear sky or dense with black clouds.... chuckle of a little baby... moon...stars...sun... morning fresh air... morning itself or whenever I hear music I picture HIM and starts feeling romantic.

I mean what a personality HE has.... so much variety... so many levels... so many ways of sending us the hints.... I cant help but feel romantic with YOU...hmmm.

Am I Feminist ?

I still remember my third day after our valima reception, I packed my little suitcase and ready to go to my mum as all the Pakistani traditional bride had to spent few days with her groom in her family house and when my husdand saw me carrying the little suuitcase he asked, " Can I carry that for you? "

To me it sounds more like, “Prithee, fair maiden! Allow me to relieve thee of thy luggage.” To which I responded (in my heart ofcourse), “What century are you from?” And I felt awkward on his innocent attention towards me and responded, "No its ok....I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you" ...baahh... the very moment romance died...lol.

After only few months we fought and first thing he said after my thousands of complains that I still didnt actually let him in my live. No it is not it....just because I never asked him to open the door for me....or always took the liberty to submit the utility bills myself...or never bother him to fetch me from my mums house (always come back myself)... or never get sick and asked him to nurse me.... never asked him to carry my bag...did grocery myself.... I thought I am giving him a favour but he was taking it differently... He thinks it hurt my feminism to take help from him.

It was not because I am a feminist.... and it hurt my feminism if I let my husband help me... it is because my parent brought me up like this.... "I am tired" or " I cant do this" was not very common in my mums vocabulary of sentences.

I dont know what FEMINISM means at the first place though I read its meaning in dictionary which says : Advocacy of equal rights for women.

I do belive that women should fight for their proper place in this world. They are human beings and have desire to play important role in their family life or want to achieve thier career and be satisfied.

Erin Pizzey (one of Feminism's pioneers and founder of the UL's first refuge for victums of domestic violence) came to startling conclusion : Women should stay at home and look after the children while men go out to work" .

Cosidering the idea of women having it all - a family and a career - is more like a myth to me.

And as I does not possesses any supernatural powers, I just want to be a woman who need help.

I dont want to imprisoned by my own freedom or vanity and become exhausted end up taking care of everything in and out of my house.

So definetly.... I am not feminist. hmmm.....

Daughter of East !

I just completed this book and happy that I picked this up from the local book store as since I started it capture all my attention.

Though my husband was opposing me as he thinks that I am not a political person at all.

Yes I am not...its true...but I was not only looking forward to read a politician biography but also she was a brave woman who servive the difficulties of terror, exile and prison as any man and dramatically thorugh her pateince brought the change around her and her country.

Beautiful and charismatic, Benazir Bhutto is not only the first woman to lead a post-colonial Muslim state, she acheived a status approachin that of a royal princess - both in her native Pakistan and around the world.

Bhutto's life has been full of drama. The daughter of one of the Pakistan's most popular leaders - Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto, who was hanged families. Following an international education at Harvard and Oxford she became politicised after her father's execution and was first elected Prime Minister in 1988 - both the youngest person and the first woman to lead the government of a Muslim state.

And now I will share few of the paragraphs from her book which really inspired me and made me her fan though late.

I didnt choose this life; it chose me.

Born in Pakistan, my life mirrors its turbulence, its tragedies and its triumphs.

Once again Pakistan is in the international spotlight. Terrorists who use the name of Islam threaten its stability. The democratic forces believe terrorism can be eliminated by promoting the principles of freedom.

Pakistan is no ordinary country. And mine has been no ordinary life. Despite the difficulties and sorrows, however, I feel blessed. I feel blessed that I could break the bastions of tradition by becoming Islam's first elected woman Prime Minister. It proved that a Muslim woman could be accepted as a leader by both men and women. I am grateful to the people of Pakistan for honouring me.

I am a woman proud of my cultural and religious heritage. I feel a special personal obligation to contrast the true Islam - the religion of tolerance and pluralism. I do believe my career has been more challenging because I am a woman. Clearly its not easy for women in modern society, no matter where we live. We still have to go the extra mile to prove that we are equal to men. We have to work longer hours and make more sacrifices. And we must emotionally protect ourselves from unfair, often vicious attacks made on us via the male members of our family. Sadly many still believe that men control the women in their lives and by pressuring the man they will get him to pressure the woman.

Neverthless, we must be prepared not to complain about the double standards, but to overcome them. We must be prepared to do so even if it means working twice as hard and twice as long as a man.

I am honoured and I am blessed. God willing, I will return to my home land. This is my destiny. And as John F. Kennedy once said, ' I do not shrink from that responsibility, I welcome it.'

BENAZIR BHUTTO

London

April, 2007

To Allah be all glory.

Shed your calories !

My beloved husband.....

This is time we should start some exercise..... we are over 30 years now and I don't want to end up with heart diseases by the time we reach our fourties.

hmm.... I said to him.....

He : ohhh..... what exercise...what is it? What did you say?? Sorry ???

I: Walking....we will start with walking and then we will start doing some other kind of exercises also.....

So... do you know any park with jogging tracks?

He : ohhh....you are serious...yeah I do !

Its a park behind that big departmental store where you always wanted to go for shopping but I never took you.... (hmm....he reminds me to change my mind about walking and give me reason to quarrel).

I : (as don't want to spoil the healthy conversation though took me 10 seconds to stay calm and get rid of his wicked way of not letting me shop in that departmental store)

Ok...we are going today evening as I am free and my mother Allah ka shukar is feeling well and I would love to see little children playing around us while we walk....

He : less enthusiastically.....OKAY.

When we reach the park it was almost 4:50 pm. Good timing. Perfect for an evening walk. I said to my self and take a deep breath tried to inhale every fragrance I can feel of flowers...grass and wet soil. It was lovely indeed.

It was a small park. At one side on wet soil there were swings and slippers for children to amuse. And at the other side was benches. The jogging track was in a circle covering whole park and in the middle was ground with grass and flowers pots. So if I walk on the jogging circle I can see everyone or everything in the park while covering whole circle.

And then when I was wearing my joggers I saw my beloved husband wearing slippers.

I: Why? What not you wear your shoes?

He : ohhh...why...would I need my shoes here? asked he innocently.

I: Well we are not here to sit and have fun....we are here to walk...remember? Anyways...suit yourself... I said a little irritably and move ahead.

He : start following me.....with low shoulders....

After a little walk we come across the place where there were children playing cricket. One of them has made a huge shot and ball came towards us....husband catch it expertly and start smiling....he stopped and I too with with....

I: Ok...let go the ball...you don't want to take it home? Do you?

He: No no...I was just remembering my days of childhood...how I used to play cricket all day and never get tired of it. And the way I used to make shots and my bating and my bowling and my....

I: Ohhh...please we can talk about it with walking as well....why you had to stop your feet's when you move your tongue?

He: whats the hurry....

A boy came and took the ball from him....of course they were tired of waiting him to threw it back too.

After a small walk again we came across the children who were having fun in sewing...and few of them were in a line to wait for their turn....he suddenly stoped again....

I: Now what ?

He : I should tell the children to stay a little away from that swing its not safe...they all are standing so near.

I : hmmm.....(tried to yell at the children)....hey children....shoo...shoo...shoo...away from swing....

He: Not like that silly....they are children not cows....or goats....

We again stoped and he went and made another line of all of them with a little more distance from swing.

I : I should have not come with you. Next time I will come alone. Cant we walk continuously? Cant you just concentrate on your speed and your feet...feel the pain on your feet when carries that much load on them....? Poor feet !

He : You are so cruel... I am a lively person and I will definitely take a notice of anything wrong around me and will make a noise about it too.....

I : yeah...whatever....

We walked a little more than he stopped again.....

He : Oh....look at that ?

I : in my own thoughts went a little ahead of him but stopped hearing his....noise.... What is wrong now?

And while we were standing with a little gap between....and he has bend on the floor to see or observe something and at the same time I saw few ladies who had also come for walk coming towards us following the track....

I : hich...hiccch....stand up....

He : by the time he stand up ladies were near us.... OH HELLO ! (he said broad smilingly).

Ladies : hye...haye....hello to you too.....

He : step behind to give them space to go through the track.... and then picked something from track and come back to me.....

I : What was that ?

He : Can you believe it...it is very low....someone throw a bone on the middle of the jogging track?

I: Ohh... I am sorry...was it your BONE ?

He : No no...I think someone has eating something and throw the bone on the track and people might get hurt because it is a very sharp...pointed bone.

I : hmm...can we please continue....?

He : Ohh yes...

We finally made our first round....I was so glad....

I : Isn't it lovely....we complete our first round of the park? Should we continue?

He : ohh yes yes...ohh did you see that?

I: What is it now ?

He : ahh...French Fries....you love them don't you? Shall I buy a pack for you?

I : hmm....after little consideration....okay....

And soon we had our 20 rupees pack of fried tomatoes and were sitting on the grass....eating with pleasure.

I : Isn't it funny that we came here to shed our calories but end up taking more of it ?

He : (with awkward smile) ohh yeah yeah....

I : Thanks to you my beloved husband.

Was I ready to let her go !

Once in our life we all have to go through this situation. We have to let go the person we realy love and care about.

While my mother was having heart attack she was on the bed having those fits and I was just rubbing her cold feets, only those I dare to stare, it was realy horible looking at her with so much pain on her face and doctors were continuously asking me to leave the room and suddenly one of them pulled me out and said...

Your rubbing her feets would not going to bring her back to life. Let us do it and ask Allah for help.

hmm....suddenly this thought came into my mind that what if this is the time?

This is the time to let go her?

This is the time when I should glare with twinkle in my eyes and say good bye?

What if.... Even it was the time...even I already made up my mind.....I know I was not ready for such loss.

I think I never be...

I think that I never wanted to loose anyone...even though I was very stupid or dumb but it does not mean I want to let go any relationship.

All my life I worked very hard to have good relationship with all my family, frineds, colleages and every person around me.

All my life I keep my self away of loosing anyone. All my life I tried so hard to tolerate every mistake, mis deed people did to me just to keep them. All my life I treasure humans.

But whatever I did, even how much I tolerate, even after every effort....Those RELATIONSHIPS....kept breaking. People came and went away from my life marking my heart with their foot prints and after every loss I said to myself...may be a little more tolerance....may be a little more care....may be a little more love might had stopped them?

But would it stopped them??? No my caring and my pleading didnt stop anyone. It is how it is...it is how Allah want it..and it will be as HE wanted.

Therefore, I should just leave the room...let the leaving one be alone...give the leaving one own space and should make my heart strong enough to let go..let go the relationship...let go the loved one...

Anyways....hmmm Ammi is better now and I pray that Allah keeps everyones mother in good health and give them long life to share with their children. (Ameen)

Writing is Thinking !

Writing means thinking - Consider, William, take a month to think - The desire to write a natural impluse like wanting to be a policman - Inspiratrion verses Effort - This comes to me, says the poet - Learning to see and learning to say what you see.

Writing originates in the brain and done straight from the elbow.

I believe writing is a form of thought while there are still few who thinks writing as a form of activity. As I always stress the simple fact that writing is essentialy thinking, or at least involves thinking at its first requisite. All people can think, or at least they think they think.But few people can say what they think, that is, say it with sufficient power of language to convey it to the full.

Even when they have conveyaed it, it may turn out to be not worth conveying.

But there are some people whose thoughts are so interesting that other people are glad to hear them or ead them.

Yet even these people must learn the use of language adequate to convey their thoughts; people may sputter and gurgle in a highly interesting way but without the full equipment of accquired of language their sputters wont carry far.

This, then, is what is what is meant by writing - to have thoughts which are of interest to other people and to put them into language which reveals the thoughts.

But I made all above references to explain professional writing.

I write for myself, of myself and reveal the inner thoughts of my heart.

This is the first step to say and accept the truth. To say, to speak your heart out. To say what you feel at that very moment.

Writing has been a pleasure for me since childhood. When I did'nt even know what to and how to write.

Writing for me is a source of seeing time from different angles and to observe what might lies behind the moment passed.

Writing is always my passion, my hobby and my campanion since it always gives me ways to escape.

So happy writing and keep writing.

You can use your heart anywhere ....everwhere !

I burst out laughing when I pass today through our basement car parking and saw this little creature on the cabinet our gatekeeper used to safe the keys of the every appratment cars.

Its really funny...why?

That was suppose to be the trash and I just throw it in the dustbin when I was cleaning my niece room few days ago.

As I was expecting her with me in few days. She used to play with it when she first came to Pakistan and I was un married and used to live with my mom in our little appratment.

Anyhow, I want to give her at least a bedroom may be coming here could be a shock to her and may be she would need a little sapce where she can think or at least sleep tight.

Although my other sister was also coming with her two daughters but I was only thinking about Sidrah. I know how sensitive she is.

So I decided to give her a seprate room and had to throw so many things just to make space for her new bed and a little writing table as she is also likes to write alot.

And there than I throw all those small childrens toys which my mother still wanted to keep them as treasure.

That was the only chance to get rid of all those long kept useless things.We always keep things having in mind to use them again but infact we never do.

We find something better than that or may be couldnt find those things on time and then has to buy new one.

I told my mother that her grand sons and daughters always bring their own toys and never needed any of these old toys so why keep them to fill the spaces.

Even than when I was trowing all those old things from little room my mother was trying to show her self busy in TASBIH....but she continuosly kept an eye on trash bin.hmm...someone than picked up this toy from our trash bin which become a big card box and was lifted down by two people we hire to bring new bed and a writing table....and fill it up with air and put it on the most ugly rack in our building and try to give us all a lighter view of our basement.

I am since than thinking about that person. Who that could be ? Who got the eyes to see and picked up something...like this TRASH.... no....TOY( something which used to make someone happy....a thing which can bring smile to a child and a thing which can be so fragile yet has make so impresive output that every chaild want to have it).

I was thinking to my self since than that creativity can happen anywhere and everywhere.

You can use your heart anywhere and everywhere. You can make a ugly space beautiful by just using your creativity or your heart.

The sight was very delightful and it sure make my day.

I wish I could be a second hand !

Look....at the wall clock....

It has three hands....

a: hour hand,

b: minute hand,

c: second hand.

Look....at the hour hand...its just the lazy bum....move so slowly that no one noticed it.

Took it almost an hour to move from one place to other. Cant make any move by itself...its dependent on minute and second hands...hmm...

whole day it only take 12 steps..what a looser..just like me...didnt show any life in its movement too slow to accompany anyone else in the clock and too lazy to show any excitment in its move....

Look...at the second hand now...what a life...what a thrille and what a speed...hmm...it is only the second hand which gives life to the clock...make noises...cant you hear that...??? tik tik tik....

yeah...its only the second hand...gives us the hope of time...and life...we still have time to move ahead...

We still have life to change and we still have chance to catch our destiny...we still have path to move ahead...we are not dependent...we are still moving with time...time is still in our hands....go go go....

They both are in the same sphere...in the same prison....in the same circle...their destiny is same...their time is same...their life is same....but...interstingly how different characterstics they both have..in one hour when hour hand makes only one move second hand makes almost 43,200 moves.

hmm...sometimes I wish....I can be a second hand.

National Customer Service Week (NCSW)

In any and every job we find ourselves in there will always be things we take pleasure in doing and things we do because it is our duty.

I think few people would say they have pleasure in everything they do at work. Of course, looking for ways to find pleasure in the 'duty' side of things is what I believe most people who are generally happy with their jobs do.

It may seem to you that being a 'caller agent', as few of my colleague and friends call me, is less important or meaningful than other jobs, but it could be they are not looking enough to the positives. I am in a position to help people, at least as far as I am able, if I am doing my best.

This is as noble a job as many others.

Plus, I am helping people all around the country. It does not matter where they are calling from, what is their race, sex, colour or education. I treated them, help them equally. Sometimes, I have to raise my voice disturbing other people around me because the person is calling from both or bus stop and cant hear me. I don’t say ‘call me later’ or ‘come in the quite place’, nope….I help them by deliberately yelling in the receivers.

I sometimes had to deal with the people who don’t understand English…don’t understand Urdu…. Even they don’t understand what I say to them… I have to explain every single terminology I use. I sometimes has to bear some angry customers complain cursing me, though I know that after when I calmly listen to them, it naturally helped them feel better. I always make myself gentle reminders about positive side of my job.

I always think that each person who enters in contact with me is an opportunity for me to be kind to, and sometimes, believe it or not, even when I am not able to respond to the caller's needs, just being kind and demonstrating willingness can make a whole difference in a caller's day, or even life.

At the end of the day, that's what drives me. Being kind and hoping that even the smallest things I do can touch someone in a positive way, I already consider my contribution to others and almost a reason for being.

But it always hurts when I sometimes heard people complaining that they are standing outside the gate of British Council, even after all the hope and desire to see someone coming from inside to help them out I always have to say NO to them. That British Council is closed for public access and we can’t entertain them. It really made me wild for a while.

So when I heard that we are celebrating our National Customer Service Week (NCSW), and asked for our suggestions, I readily said that I want our security guards to be trained to treat our customer nicely and enthusiastically. If we can’t go outside for them at least our guards should know how to treat customer in humanitarian way.

So, my Line Manager, Khadija Hussaini (being the Customer Service Champion) took the liberty and gave our security guards a training session of one hour and trained them how they can also be the customer service provider.

As it was my idea, I felt proud and most of all felt much relax that now when customer would come at ACTON GATE, they will be entertained as our valued customer no matter what enquiry they have.

When one tries to do the best one can, this is noticed by others and good things can happen to our lives, without us even expecting them.

Who's got the Cell phone ????

I always hate to wear those blue pagamas, I got from my mother in law...hmmm....

Last saturday I was cleaning my small appartment. During our lunch break inside, I heard a cell phone ring, and it sounded familiar, so I wondered which one of us two present was receiving a phone call. None of us jumped up to catch their phone, and the little chime kept ringing.

Actually it sounded closest to me, so I decided to start looking for it. Maybe it was in the other room behind me?

I peeked my head in there only to hear it on the counter that had been beside me.

So I turned to look in the purse on the counter, and I still heard it, but not in the purse; it was back towards the front door past the opposite counter.

Finally the ring stopped and I gave up, figuring my husband still moving furniture must have had his cell phone.

Seconds later my hubby's phone rang, and he laughed when he answered a call from my mother at home. While he was finding out who she had tried to call first, he asked me where my phone was.

“In my back pocket. I can feel it,” I answered with annoyance. I mean, I would know if it was my phone, because I knew where my phone was.

It’s a trick I learned from helping people move. Stick your phone and your keys in the back pocket of your pagamas where you won’t lose them, miss calls, or have stuff in your way carrying big boxes and such.

My mother must have told my husband that she called me, because he said my name, and everything suddenly fit together.

I’d been chasing my own phone in my back pocket. No wonder wherever I looked the sound seemed to be behind me!

hmmm... I will never ever wear that apparel again....

~ For Granted ~

Yesterday I was watching one movie named " Awakenings ", and it was said by a mother,

When he(her son) was born, he was healthy and smart and that time I never ask GOD that WHY....I get such a boy? What I did to deserve such healthy and smart child? I never did...but when he get sick I demanded to know that what did I do to deserve such miseries? Why it is happening to me? There were no one I can look for help and there were no one I can ask to stop that, my son is in pain. "

It is true, we take so many things in our life for granted and we only notice them when we lose them or about to lose them.

It is only, Friendships, Siblings, Mother Father and Life's little happiness which matter so much in our life but we didnt look at them until we loose them. It is our fake confidence that these people and weather and life will stay here all the time so why waste time on those they are not going any where. But they are moving on too. It is only a matter of one moment when we develop a relationship and took whole life to work on them to keep them working.I wish now, I can change the way I was. And start not taking relationships for granted.

I wish.......

Keep Smiling !

My husband likes to sign off with the little admonition :

" Keep Smiling. "

When I was working in World Apparel, Mr. Amal always greet me with "Haj, always good to see your smiling face."

Only I never was smiling until after he said that.I have a hard time remebering to smile.

Even if I'm really happy, I tend to multitask, which keeps me too busy to smile.

However, the nicest, most pleasant people to be around are always smiling.

Which is why I decided that I am going to learn to smile....often.

This task is not nearly as easy as it seems, though it is helped by my husband's reminders.

Another thing that really helps in remebering Allah's grace to me. And that makes me want to skip (except I cant do that either).

As my first exercises in smiling, I have made it a point to smile when I look at childrens at a school, some of them notably strange, can be a happy thought.

When I think of people looking at me, wondering why this girl(woman I am not) is grinning, I start to laugh at myself, which only makes the smile wider and more sincere, but, I am afraid, still leaves the wondering passers-by in the dark.Smiling, like any physical activity, can be strenuous if your muscles are out of practice.

You have probably tried to obey your mother and exercise good pasture, but found that it was uncomfortable.

This is because those muscles that keep you erect are out of shape.

Do a little experiment.Start smiling at the smiley face :=) Keep Smiling, Look at a clock. There is usually one at the bottom af your computer.

No, dont drop; keep smiling. Count two minutes. Hold it.

How do your cheeks feel? A little tired?Neverthless, I think it is a worthwhile exertion for all of us.

As my friend once emailed me, you never know when someone might be falling in love with your smile.

Or as that unseen aunts on every old sitcom would say,If the wind changes, your face might stay like that."