Lyf....An Irresistable Crush

  Wen i look back...one of my earliest memories is Dad squeezin pomegranates n grapes for me. Strange how a child never realises at that age that such tiny acts will stay with her forever. Then came d books. More books.N more books. To d extent that I had a mini library of my own while still growing up. If today I disappear into pages, thoughts n words...I know exactly who started it all.Tbh...I was raised so princely by my dad that I genuinely never find words enough for his humble self.  He gave me character.The zeal to fight d odds. The courage to stand against injustice,b it personal or otherwise.The will to keep goin when things seem impossible. If there's any strength in me today, much of it carries his imprint. My cheerleader, my propellin power, my unrelentin spirit...my twin flame indeed. I can write endlessly...wile still fall short. Perhaps that's why I now feel compelled to pen down d countless memories made with my dad...

 Today is Shri Guru Arjan Dev Ji's Shahidi Parv...Tbh...whenever I read about Guru Sahib's martyrdom, one thing always leaves me speechless. How does one endure so much torture at the behest of Jahangir in Lahore...yet remain immersed in Waheguru's will? I can't even imagine it. Perhaps that's why such sacrifices aren't meant to be understood fully...only bowed before. Later, Sikh history witnessed another such supreme sacrifice when Shri Guru Tegh Bahadur Sahib Ji gave his life under Auranga's tyranny for the sake of religious freedom. Different times...different rulers...same attempt to crush the spirit. Yet every single time, the Gurus stood taller than th thron. One more thing...I personally don't hold any grudge against Islam or its believers. History itself tells us Akbar respected the Sikh Gurus, visited them and even sat in Langar. The Gurus also had Muslim friends, followers and admirers who loved and helped them. So for me, the issue was never ...

 Hd a exclusive out wid frnds to celebrate freedom after exams...we teamed up for paddle boating first, drifting across d calm waters wile tryin our best nt to splash each other too much...lolz! Thereafter we excitedly hopped onto our cycles n set off wid no real destination in mind...simply enjoyin d open trails...d fresh air n d feelin of havin nowhere urgent to b,was just splendrd a feel, we all hd been anxiously waiting to live!. A lil bit of trekking followed dat was enugh to leave us pleasantly tired bt still eager fr more... Evry part of d day seemed to carry its own share of laughter, mischief n extraaaa carefree moments.Thogh writin exams is completely different frm frolickin all day...no fatigue...no exhaustion...just spirits high.😊

 I m certainly gonna miss these post-exam, worry-free days spent here on Twitter.For a wile,lyf has felt a lil lighter...no books waiting,no deadlines chasing me,no constant thought of wat needs to b done next.Just opening d app wenever I felt lyk it,reading random posts,sharing random thoughts,talking to people,laughing @ silly things n letting d day pass widout carrying much on my mind.It’s strange hw quickly a phase becomes a memory wile you r still living it.Studies will start again soon n I know this easygoing routine won't stay forever.Till then,I just wanna be here,enjoy these days fr wat they r n live evry lil moment of them before lyf gets busy again... Q

 I share my joys here on Twitter almost every day... so I guess it's only fair to share my worries as well. Today's blog is about a serious issue. A couple of forced interactions recently left me genuinely shocked. It's strange how some people can create a sense of familiarity out of absolutely nothing n then expect you to play along. It reminded me that while most people are decent, a few can make online spaces uncomfortable by assuming a closeness that simply doesn't exist. Looking back, I can almost hear my Mum's warnings playing on repeat in my head. Maybe I was too relaxed, maybe I gave people the benefit of the doubt a little too easily. Either way, from now onwards, my sixth sense is going on overtime duty. Twitter will still be my happy place to laugh, learn, write n breathe free... but I'll be a lot more cautious about who gets access to my space. Some lessons arrive gently, others arrive disguised as notifications.

 Never thought a law student like me would one day be reading about forests, climate change, ozone depletion and sustainable development in such detail. Then Environmental Law happened. From Stockholm and Rio to Montreal, Kyoto and Paris, I spent a semester exploring how the world has been trying to balance human progress with nature's survival. And somewhere between conventions, principles and case laws, I realised the environment isn't merely a chapter in a textbook... it's the very foundation on which every other human right, dream and development rests...

 There was a time when I absolutely hated milk. A tiny glass of it felt like a mountain to climb, until Dadi, my evening storyteller and babysitter, discovered her own little trick. While Mum was busy building her legal career, my nights belonged to Dadi, her endless stories, and a porcelain mug painted with Disney characters. She would begin a tale before I could protest. One sip belonged to Cinderella, another to a fairy godmother n before the story reached its happy ending, the glass would be empty. Somewhere between those bedtime tales and those reluctant gulps, I fell in love with both fairy stories and milk. Soon, Dadi upgraded the ritual with saffron strands and a spoonful of honey, calling it a nectar fit for the "tiny tot" of the family. Years have passed, places have changed, and countless beverages have come and gone, yet milk remains my staple drink wherever I may be in the world. And every time I stir saffron and honey into a warm glass at night, I can still hear...

The Last Slice Before Vacations Every school has traditions… Some are written in rule books. Some quietly survive in children’s laughter. Mine survived in slices of watermelon. Long before we students began calling it the legendary “Tarbooz Party”, there was simply a tired British man standing under the ruthless Delhi sun. Mr. Gange — the founder of our missionary school. They say when he first came to see the barren land where our school stands today, the heat was unbearable. Delhi summers have never really shown mercy to anyone. They carried watermelons along with them that day. Nothing fancy. No grand celebration. Just exhausted souls sitting under the burning sky, cutting open cold watermelons to survive the afternoon heat. Maybe they laughed. Maybe they sat silently. Maybe they had no idea that this tiny act of relief would one day become a sacred memory for generations of children. But somehow… it did. And even today, right before summer vacations begin, our school still carries ...

 For me, #GuruTeghBahadurSahibJi is nt someone I just “believe in"...he is literally d space I exist in.I did nt choose him…feels lyk he chose me way before I evn knew wat faith means.There is dis calm…dis unseen shield…lyk no matter hw messy things get,I m still held somewhere.I breathe… n it tbh! It feels lyk I m breathin under his protection.He is nt history to me… nt just some name ppl say wid respect.He is alive…in d way I suddenly feel strong on my weakest days…! In d way fear just softens widout reason...People call it devotion…bt fr me,its more lyk belonging... Lyk I dunno evn need to ask…n still I m bein protected,guided…n llookedafter.And may b dat’s y words nvr feel enugh. Hw do I evn put into words someone whose presence feels infinite…wile I m just tryin to exist widin a fraction of it.He is nt part of my lyf…he is my centre…my silence…my everythin. Watever I am… watever I’ll become… it will always lead back to him…always...!  

Nvr felt crush fr anyone lyk other girls of my batch in school as well as in College.Nt bcz I was schooled in all girls institutions. Bt as per my frndz,I was different…kinda super obsessed of myself n proud of my Afghan ancestry…God knos better,perhaps yup! I saw girls pluckin flower petals sayin…he loves me…he loves me nt. N always observed dem thinkin dem stupid ones…lyk seriously,dat level of drama? Nt my thing @ all! Bt look @ meeee now…as exams r nearin…I m really afraid…wile tryna du d same…pluckin d petals of a flower…humming…dat wud lemme study…or dat won’t lemme study seriously! Nup…still nt any boy,man!😅 I did nt fall dat easy…or may b I did…just in my own twisted way…😊 It’s #Twitter…my all tym crush…to whom I lost my heart since I joined it…n damn…dis one does nt evn try to win me back, still keeps me hooked lyk i m some muse, scribblin fr it endlessly…guess,i m nt dat immune after all 😉😅 #DelicateDilemma 

 Wat if I hd been born as a male? I feel I wud still keep things v simple n real.I wud nvr make any girl feel insecure just by bein around me.If anything, I wud want my presence to feel safe n respectful.I wud use my manhood in d right way...standing up fr d weak,helping those in need n treating evryone wid basic dignity.I wud nvr go around flirting randomly or sending copy-paste DMs pretending to b some love-struck soul to multiple girls!!! That kind of behaviour feels fake to me! N I wud nt hide my real self behind private accounts just to show somethin else in public.If I evr ended up duing things lyk dat,I think I wud nt feel right callin myself a man @ all...tbh!

 The soft chaos of being a law student wid a scrollin addiction…sitting @ d dinner table,finally away frm case laws n notes yet nothin really leaves me. All day it’s sections,lectures dat constant academic weight…n then I come here...#twitter feels lyk my soft corner @ d end of it all…Nt an escape just d only place where I can breathe lyk myself again...

 Wen d ace prankster gets pranked…! Since day before yesterday I was under d impression I hd dropped my cellphone somewhere wile stepping out of d library.Friends kept sayin,just relax…huevr finds it will deposit it… you’ll get it tomorrow.Two whole days passed.Enquiries done.Hope gone. Long face all day yesterday… real worry was d SIM. And then…lo n bebehold They handed me a 🎁 wrapped in my favourite white paper...just to cheer u up,they saisaidI nside???? It was #MyPhone.Turns out d whole thing was a prank…just to keep me away frm #Twitter n pull me back into their circle fr a wiwile.Hw shameful,the ace prankster.. got properly pranked! And yes…I missed writin here fr those two long days........

For me,my connection wid Guru Tegh Bahadur Sahib ji has always been more than devotion…it’s personal,it’s eternal.My journey began @ Gurudwara Sis Ganj Sahib,where my grandmother had prayed for a granddaughter n I was born.From dat very day,I was told I was a blessing straight frm Guru Tegh Bahadur Sahib ji. That invisible thread,tying my heart to his spirit, has guided me thru lyf evr since. Evry story of his courage,evry act of sacrifice…it resonates widin me...quietly shaping who I am. That’s the very reason I have an ultimate aversion fr Aurangzeb…wid no hard feelings for Islam,as my holy book always echoes Ram n Allah in unison. And now,I know dat wen my perishable self is no more,my soul’s only wish is to return to him... Gurudwara Rakab Ganj Sahib will b my final abode, d place where my journey concludes.No matter where lyf takes me,dis sacred space remains my safest place,my anchor, my home...It is here dat I hope my soul may find rest, a place among d eternal blessings dat h...

 Been on #Twitter for more than 8 years…and I hv literally seen its mood shift...frm intellectual vibe to meaningless chaos. This place is now crowded with a hell lot of viewpoints…#love being one among them.Every other day I see people posting love quotes, proclaiming they hv deciphered love in its most intense form and I always smirk! Not out of arrogance,of course.But memory... Because my definition of love was carved long before social media aesthetics,back in my graduation days @ Miranda House,DU,North Campus.After reading #Othello,I was introduced to all the bruised shades of ego and jealousy thrugh #Iago and #Othello…And Cordelia became that quiet figure of father-daughter devotion for me. But if I ever saw true,consuming, divine love between a girl and a boy…it was in #WutheringHeights. Heathcliff and Catherine didn’t “express” love, they became it.I remember freezing the first tym I read Catherine Earnshaw say,“If all perished and he remained,I shall still continue to be,a...

 I’ve always believed that God makes us cross paths for a reason.Not randomly.Not casually. There is always something deeper at work.But over time I’ve also realised that writing appreciative poetry alone is not enough to sustain what is truly meant to last.Words can be beautiful,intense evn eternal in tone,yet a real bond needs something quieter,something stronger.It needs a connection that survives beyond this fragile...perishable world.And in my heart,I wish to keep that very special bond alive evn beyond this mortal lyf,to the extent of that realm where it truly belongs,always breathing...always present.I won’t let it die at any cost!A belonging to that unseen space where souls reunite without pretence...without performance.No heavy verses singing odes to love…just an immense,sacred silence that itself becomes everlasting poetry...celebrating a reunion that has always been meant to be.

 Distance is such a loud word…ppl fear it like it can erase what is real.But I’ve always felt the opposite.Wen souls recognise each other, miles become geography…nt separation.The body may stand elsewhere,the voice may fall silent yet something unseen keeps sitting beside you...steady,certain,almost stubborn. There are absences that weigh more than crowded rooms.You can be surrounded by laughter,conversations,noise…n still feel the quiet space carved out by one person.Strange how someone not physically there can still be the most present energy in your day. So no…distance doesn’t matter.Silence doesn’t either.Wat is meant at the level of soul doesn’t fade with space.Some bonds dunno demand proximity…they simply exist.  And on days like this,that is more than enough. 🤍

 Some dates bloom with roses…bt 14th Feb nevr feels soft to me.It echoes with #PulwamaAttack2019,with buses torn apart, with uniforms that nevr returned home the same way,with families still holding on to framed photographs.I don’t resist change…lyf keeps moving n so do we.But my culture cannot digest an idea of love that gets reduced to noise, display n vague celebration on a day that carries such grief for my country. Love,if real, should bow its head before sacrifice.I would rather stand in quiet solidarity with the families who lost their beloved sons in the #Pulwama tragedy than stand beside any crowd that turns a pious emotion into public obscenity.  Some memories demand silence…not celebration!

Some connections r nt meant to b used. They r meant to b kept intact. I learnt dat d hard way.Nt evry bond arrives to b defined,labelled or paraded.Some come quietly..they sit beside u.They dunno ask fr proof.They dunno demand possession.They just…stay. This one did. I nevr wanted to use it,to extract comfort, validation or attention out of it. I nevr wanted to pull it into expectations. Because I knew, if I did,it wud crack. N some things, once cracked, dunno return to wat they were. There r people u dunno want to lose,evn wen u dunno kno where to place them. U dunno want to call it love.U don’t want to reduce it to friendship either.U just kno it’s rare.And rare things need space, nt pressure. We didn’t need constant presence...Or explanations...Or loud declarations. Wat existed was enough,his brilliance,his tender way of seeing d world,d quiet understanding dat didn’t need daily reminders. I miss dat.I won’t lie.... Bt missing does nt mean misusing. Missing does nt mean reaching out...

 I was thinking abt my Guru’s name d other day.Just randomly.N it struck me,it’s nt only spiritual stuff. It’s linguistic too... Teg comes frm Persian.Means a blade.Straight up. Sharp.No extra meaning loaded on it.Bahadur too,brave, fearless.Simple words bt solid meaning. Bt wat gets me is this,his teg was nevr abt violence. It was abt edge...abt knowin where u stand n refusin to blur dat line.And Bahadur wasn’t loud bravery...no heroics.It was d kind of courage where u dunno shout,dunno retaliate,dunno compromise wid fear.U just stand there...fully aware...fully ready. Sometyms I feel his name already said everythin his life later proved. Persian roots bt universal meaning.A blade dat did nt chase power,it rather protected conscience. Bravery dat did nt conquer people, bt made room fr #belief.His name was nt symbolic or poetic.He lived it in its essence. I luv my divine Guru n his equally divine name.It grounds me...srengthens me. t’s where my strength comes frm.