Dear Home

I am glad I reached you finally. It has been a long journey. I am so tired. Today I came thrice to the gates but Hafsa (my downstairs tenant) wasn’t home, and the locks on the gates wouldn’t open, because they were changed. As darkness covered the horizon you let me inside.

I climbed the stairs wearily to my upside domain, and fumbled with the keys to open the outside door. Tons of dust littered the floor of the verandah. When I stepped into the hallway, and then the bedroom, both were equally full of dust. I stared at the open dressing room window with dismay. It must have opened with the force of a storm. It looked like someone had poured brown mud over each and every surface.

I located the vacuum cleaner, turned it on, and made a pathway for myself to the bed and bathroom door.The vacuum cleaner has breathed its last. It couldn’t survive that much dust. It was too much for it’s delicate Japanese stomach. 

 I went to the kitchen. It was in the same dirty state. The adjacent pantry’s window was open. I put the groceries I had bought in the morning on my kitchen table. I reminded myself to switch on the water heater. I tried to ignite the gas. The gas igniters didn’t work (I had two). I went to search for match boxes. None could be found. I was mad at myself for forgetting to buy them in the first place. By this time my hands were covered with dust , and nails were dirty too.

I found the matches in one drawer, and managed to light the water heater burner. I came back to the kitchen and heated the food given to me by my brother in law’s wife. I did the dishes with cold water. I had forgotten whether I had gloves or not lying some place. I found them later after I got three more pairs from the market next day.

Dear home, I am happy to be here although my hands are in a terrible state in trying to make you clean.


Literate for a Day

Someone or something you can’t communicate with through writing (a baby, a pet, an object) can understand every single word you write today, for one day only. What do you tell them?

Your Days Are Numbered

I am stressed. It always happen to me when I am going on a journey. My stomach goes haywire. I have not slept well for the past one week. Today I am leaving for Peshawar. I have finally managed to pack my things. Insha’Allah I will be back in a few months.

Lala (my elder brother) is having prostrate surgery. I am worried about him because he is diabetic, and isn’t keeping good health. Similarly my two brother in laws are sick too. The younger one forgets things. He has forgotten that his elder brother (my late husband) is not alive, and he was present to see him buried in the village. He takes daily trips from the village to our home in Peshawar to see his brother. He stays outside at the gates of our home wondering when his brother will call him inside.

The unscrupulous drivers of taxis who bring him daily to the city are making money. They forget that one day they are going to meet God. I have to face a lot of things hoping everything will turn out all right.

I won’t be writing for the next two or three days depending upon getting the Internet once I reach home. Bye.

Your Days are Numbered

What’s the date today? Write it down, remove all dashes and slashes, and write a post that mentions that number.

Truth Serum

Does the truth serum really works

The ones who habitually lie won’t go near

How would one ask someone to take it

For truth can be (many a times) difficult to hear



Truth Serum

You’ve come into possession of one vial of truth serum. Who would you give it to (with the person’s consent, of course) — and what questions would you ask?

How do I Know?

I live in the present not knowing what the future holds

Having no answers I leave everything to God

Thinking of good things pushing worries aside

Hoping eventually they will be solved


God is Great, God is Merciful.


Six of One, Half a Dozen of the Other

Write a six-word story about what you think the future holds for you, and then expand on it in a post.

Singing in the Rain

Continuous rain makes me glum and sad

Would prefer for it to not appear

The falling of rain looks like tears falling

Of an unhappy person in despair

Wish it would go away and disappear

Leaving the skies for the sun to cheer



Singin’ in the Rain

Safe inside, toasty warm, while water pitter-patters on the roof… describe your perfect, rainy afternoon.

Million Dollar Question

Blogging is letting go all the frustration in daily life. 

Blogging is sharing a part of your life with others letting them see that they are not alone in their problems.

Blogging is telling your story so that if you have done any mistakes, others won’t do them.

Blogging is spreading hope and peace through your words.

Blogging is for posterity that even when you are gone, your writing remains.


Million-Dollar Question

Why do you blog?


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