Become.

With each breath that rises and falls,
a life I once lived from a distance calls,
I lift up my head from undercover,
strain my neck and try to look over,
what I see leaves me in awe,
how long I had waited for life to thaw,
with each little smile I saw from the past,
the joy that had died, suddenly arose at last,
the tears that I had counted so many times,
suddenly dried to the sound of sweet chimes,
I yearned for the same voice to call out my name,
as I heard it call out for me, again and again.
I tried to touch the face so clear,
only to realize it was a mirage, not real,
with a sudden dejection my eyes drooped down,
I had almost forgot in life I was only to frown,
one last glance I wanted desperately to give,
in hopes that all those I loved would forgive,
my mistakes, my errors, my cruelest acts,
my betrayal, hypocrisy and breakage of pacts,
I sat down with exhaustion on a corner stone,
leaning against it so frail and so alone,
I yearned for a child to rest his head on my lap,
how I wished with my favorite teddy I could nap,
the stench of the tobacco, be replaced with roses,
my burning soul under the influence restlessly doses,
I wonder to myself about what I have become,
a useless tool, an injured bird, a discarded bread crumb?
Whirlpools of burning questions dance in my head,
maybe, just maybe I would be better off dead,
I'm not scared of death, but I wonder how,
am I ready to even face God right now?
What would I tell Him? What would I say?
I was just a waste of sand, soul and clay?
Doesn't He see Himself how I have become so frail?
how every try of mine in this life utterly failed.
Would He still judge me? Ask me why I did?
What would I answer, how off sins would I get rid?
I kneeled down meekly on my skinned knees,
begging and crying, hoping He'd listen to my pleas.
I stared into the open sky over my head,
to take me wherever the right path lead,
I was sick of the darkness and wished for light,
I no longer had doubts about the Al-Mighty's might.
My hands trembled as I raised them together,
palms facing me with uncertain stature,
staring at my face with an amazement so great,
wondering why I was raising them in prayer so late,
I felt the whole world disappear around,
I had no sense of a sky above or a ground,
I suddenly was bathed in a flush of light,
not a living soul was now in my sight,
I closed my eyes tightly shut,
I didn't want this journey to end as yet,
I could feel the light penetrate my heart,
I wanted it to break my old self apart,
my lips quivered with each silent prayer,
my palms clenched in fists now, so tauter.
Tears streamed down my cheeks onto my lips,
they failed to stop, even by my finger tips,
I just wanted to live another life again,
to shed off the misery, the loss, and the pain,
flashes and blurs from the past haunted me,
I wanted to run away from all the misery,
I cried out loud and hoped He'd hear,
then a warmth filled me and I knew He was there,
listening to me so patiently and quietly,
waiting for me to beg for forgiveness and mercy,
I wanted to pound my head on the cold floor,
to seek redemption and ask for a chance once more,
to live a life that I always wished for,
to forget the times that had turned me sour,
I don't recall when the night turned into day,
but the sun came out and erased all the gray,
I suddenly felt like a weightless feather,
floating in the breeze in such beautiful weather,
I had been forgiven, given a chance to live once more,
to become a better soul and replenish my very core,
I looked again at the sky up so high,
so thankful, so grateful to the Lord was I.

My pieces & mich.

Dear Life,

Sometimes I want to be a kid again...Laugh at Barney's lame jokes, help figure out Blue's clues, gloat over Dora's successes and cheer for the Power Rangers as they pounded their enemies. But here I am, in some lalaland, thinking to myself about you as you unfold in front of me. I don't want to hate you. But sometimes you end up giving me reasons to start doubting you, scrutinizing you. You make me want to sit down in a corner and sulk at times. On some days, I want to pick up all the colors of the universe and paint the sky with such bright colors that my own eyes would ache at the chilli powder red, turmeric golds and sapphire blues. Life, I know I'm not making sense, but trust me, I'm doing just what you do to me at times. This sounds erratic, yes, I know that too. Just like the way you can be. People walk in and out of you as I witness their footprints engraved in the deepest crevices of my heart, as they come and as they leave. Each of them with a unique story behind them, lurking behind them like a loyal shadow, which they cast on others without even realizing at times. There are so many songs about you, so many quotes, so many stories, but I have still failed to understand you. I wonder why. I'm often lying in bed, staring at the ceiling and wondering about you, that's just how much pain you give me. You even deprive me of my sleep, one of my few outlets from this frustrated place. Sometimes I try to turn myself to stone, so that I can withstand your blows- one by one. Each night I tell myself before closing my eyes that you will become friends with me, some day or the other. I try to lull my fears to sleep before I can fall asleep myself. But you have your ways, don't you? A minute, a second, nothing's to be relied upon. You grab me from the back, pin me to the ground & suffocate me with an overdose of you. My eyes have given up, they know there's no use filling pails of water over you. You are so cruel, that's why. You won't listen, won't budge. It's like you've drawn a big, fat red circle around me. I can't step out of it or over it. I just keep rotating on the inside and watch helplessly as you shower others with so much and flirt around with them. I want to smile, but my smiles just out to be so hollow, so incomplete, like dark half moons, floating aimlessly in night skies. Are you all about pain, misery, longing, broken dreams, scars and tears? Or is there more to you that you just fail to show me? I'm blinded or maybe blind-folded. I just don't know. You know what I feel like doing at times? I feel like running through jungles of barren trees barefooted and experiencing the jolt of pain as each stone, thorn and broken branch lunges towards me. I want to close my eyes and inhale the cold winds that beat against my face as I charge amidst the silent forest around me. I don't want to stop, even my useless tears fail to bring me to a halt. The tears do blur my vision, I can hardly make out what lies ahead- a tall tree or a familiar face with arms wide open. I just keep running, each thud wildly echoing in my ears as I try to reach out to the mirage overhead. Then I realize that it was just you, waiting to devour me with your arms wide open, deceiving me into thinking it was a harmless and warm embrace. And I let you do it. Because I know there's no way I can step out of the red circle around me. I know I will blow up into a million pieces, each bit reaching the furthest corners of the globe- too difficult for anyone to be put together again. You push me into such depths into oceans of doubt and thought that I struggle to resurface. For every splash that my arms and legs make against the icy waters, a wave of dread envelops me from top to bottom. I try to keep my head up, the only sign of life in me. But you pull me back in, you are tied to me like a heavy rock. You don't rest until you've seen me go blue in face while trying to reach a treatise with you. You love it, don't you? You get a high each time you do this to me. Nonetheless, I still let you do it. The reason, I don't know yet. When you've had enough with playing around with me, you drag me by my shoulders to the shore. I'm wet against the burning sands and you make sure that each inch of my skin experiences the pain of burns as you pull me along with you. Then when we reach a point, you just dump me with the sea shells, like a big oil spill. Left there to dirty the surroundings with my mere presence. My shivers, cries, cyanotic face, quivering lips don't affect you. You smile, because you've done your job. You have done it well. There I am- still shivering in the cold wind, with my knees drawn closer to my chin, my chin resting on my knees, hugging myself, trying to keep myself warm. The specks of sand stick to me, layering me with another sheet of guilt. I suddenly want the sands to suck me into them. But I know you wouldn't want anything to go my way. As I try to bury myself in the sands, there you come again. Pick me up, shuffle me in the air, so weightless for you I am. You toss me into a cloud. So foolish of me that I thought I'd be living there forever, that you'd leave me alone and forgive me for bearing with you for so long. I collide into a meshwork of what apparently was cotton, but it was a sea of broken mirrors. There was pain, then tingling, then numbness. A cycle, yes, like a very familiar cycle of burning, melting and decaying. I couldn't help but smile as I witnessed a million pieces of me fly around to adorn this very beautiful world that I so badly wanted to bury behind me.

Thank you for bearing me for so long.

S.C

Epiphany.

As I walked through rain today, I realized,
that every little drop had something to say,
it wanted to rest on my brow, then on my cheek,
it wanted to dance in front of my eyes throughout the day.

Every step into a puddle, sent a spiral of rings,
for every little splash, my heart just wanted to sing,
the clouds seemed to smile, the droplets celebrate,
today I had no worries about the mysteries of my fate.

When the leaves bent under the weight of dew,
the air smelled fresher, every breath so new,
I wanted to close my eyes and feel the breeze,
I wanted to sprout wings and fly with ease.

As the droplets soaked me through and through,
I felt like a swan in the waters deep blue,
when my spread palms were greeted by rains,
I knew I could let go of all the strains.

I wanted to jump into puddles, fling mud around,
I wanted to touch the sky, lift my feet up the ground,
I wanted to pinch the clouds, dance in the rain,
I wanted to forget the tears, bid farewell to pain.
I wanted to arrange the rain drops on my lashes,
I wanted to kill the flame, scatter the ashes.

I looked up the sky and smiled at the clouds,
today things were clear, there wasn't a single doubt.
I didn't want the sun to come out, I liked the gloom,
it felt like the world had finally given me some room.

I stretched my arms and lifted my face,
each little drop gifting me with so much solace.
I squinted my eyes as the drops fell one by one,
the lands of my heart were no longer barren.

The Letter.

June 25, 2008, Wednesday, what an auspicious day it was… Sri Lanka had beaten the crap out of Bangladesh by setting a target of 358 runs, Germany had beaten Turkey in the Euro 2008 semi-finals by 3-2 and India had beaten Hong Kong by a good 256 runs in the Asia Cup. While all this was going on around me, I was sitting in that sofa chair with my laptop comfortably nestled in my lap watching Koffee with Karan with total ease and lack of concern, or was I really? Since right after graduation, friends, family friends, and relatives have been bombarding me with questions about where I am going to go for further studies and I give them all the same two three answers that I have prepared and memorized for each of them…Answer A, “I’ll be going to Pakistan for medicine. I’m still not sure which college, but I will start applying all over once I get there. Medical admissions start late in the fall, so I’m pretty inactive at the moment”— this is for those who I don’t want to give my detailed career map to, such as competitors and nosy elders, who think their children are a lot better than me and don’t refrain from rubbing it in my face. Answer B, “I applied to Gulf Medical College, I cleared the initial stages, but I’m not going there anymore. I applied to AKU and Shifa College of Medicine in Pakistan and I’m waiting for further procession of my applications.” This answer is for those who I need to impress with my by utmost talent and skill. You see, I’m very image conscience. So today, like any other day I woke up late in the afternoon, did nothing productive, sat on the couch until the padding of the cushions beneath me went flat, refreshed my facebook homepage after every five minutes in hopes that people would write on my wall, comment on how nice I looked in my pictures or at least comment on any one of my notes, and of course day dreamt like no other. When one wakes up when half the day is gone, one just loses track of time and it whizzes by. After about a good six-month hiatus the Chaudhry family finally decided that it was time to tell our fellow friends that we were very much alive and would want to invite them to a dinner, which happens to be tomorrow, June 26, 2008. I can picture my mother, an emergency physician by profession, flustering over how her crockery is so out-dated, how we never help her around with chores, how my dad camps in our T.V lounge in front of the plasma screen, how my brother goes into hibernation and how I being an eighteen year old still fail to learn my fundamental responsibilities as a family member and daughter. So taking my mother’s lack of hope in me as an insult, I decided to take charge of the humungous grocery shopping expedition that was due before the preparation of the dinner for the following evening. I happily got ready in ten minutes and prodded out my door to accompany my dad to the grocery store. I being a person very stingy about change didn’t quite appreciate the fact that my dad had chosen to shop at a store where I wasn’t very used to going, but I just sighed and busied myself in hunting the things required. The small departmental store was bustling with Asians- Indians, Pakistanis, Filipinos, Indonesians, and so on, it was quite a sight. I steered the jerky trolley through the narrow aisles showcasing the Pakistani basmati rice, Iranian saffrons, Indian tamarinds, and an array of garam masalas, looking for some “Biryani Masala” my mom needed. My eyes were exhibiting a typical case of nystagmus as I moved my gaze up and down the high shelf looking for that specific brand, my eye muscles ached and my occulomotor nerve was probably cussing at my sensory cortex. In spite of this, I failed to find the hidden treasure I was looking for, and so I moved on. I circled the whole store almost thrice, trying to fill my cart up with the much-needed stuff, to the point that I started getting those nasty looks by those around me. Nevertheless, I decided to stay indifferent to it. After a very tiring and repetitive trial and brawl session, I made my way to the counter and tried to still gaze around for “THE” masala I needed, but then I just gave up. I came home, stacked everything in the fridge in such disarray, violating every single rule my dear mother had set up for “arranging” food items in the fridge—“The bread goes in here. The vegetables and fruits go in the bottom compartments. The beverages and drinks go in the door pockets…” As soon as I finished stashing a big bottle of apple juice into one of the wrong compartments in the fridge, I made my way to the lounge to the coffee table, where I just wanted to relax and congratulate myself over bravely handling the ultimate grocery experience. However, a bundle of latest mail distracted me from my initial intentions. I sifted through the bills, bank correspondence, and pamphlets to finally come face-to-face with an opened enveloped with Aga Khan University’s official seal on it. I’m usually very particular about being the first one to touch my mail, but my anxiety and curiosity didn’t allow me to ponder over who had sliced open the letter before me. I quickly pulled out the white piece of letter paper with “Miss. Sidra Chaudhry” written at the very top. A quick read through the letter made me sigh and I smiled. It said:

“…...Upon review of your application, University records showed that your SAT 1 scores did not conform to the University’s eligibility requirement; therefore your application will not receive any further consideration for the October 2008 session. We thank you for entering competition for admission to Aga Khan University Medical College. We hope that this setback will not dissuade you from your interest in medicine but your will use this as a learning experience in your future endeavors.”

Why I smiled you ask? I smiled for several reasons. I smiled because I knew a long time back that it would be tough for me to get into AKU, I’m optimistic yet realistic. I smiled because I knew that when one door closes, another opens. And finally I smiled because of this: “We hope that this setback will not dissuade you from your interest in medicine but your will use this as a learning experience in your future endeavors.” Firstly, because they don’t know jack about my conviction for medicine as a profession or more aptly a lifestyle; the way biryani masala spices up biryani, medicine’s the spice to my life and secondly, people who were a tidbit of narrow-sighted when it came to spelling were dissing me on my SAT scores. They think they could stop me in my tracks eh? How wrong they were about me.

Once my momentous confrontation with the “unacceptance” letter was over, I began to ponder over why my parents had chosen to hide this letter from me. Did they really think I was that weak that I couldn’t handle the truth? Did they want to shield me from the taste of failure? Did they think I could or would succumb to failure? I guess it would just be safe to say that they were being parents.

You know what bothered me a lot? What drove me all this time? A constant fear of failure. It was a very conscience and self-inflicted limitation I had imposed on myself that no matter what I do, I had to succeed. I didn’t want to allow myself to fail. I vividly remember the dates February 18, 2007 and October 25, 2007, when I received my SAT 1 and SAT Chemistry scores respectively; both were lower than the scores required by AKU. My marginally low scores on the SAT 1 didn’t tick me off as much as my low SAT Chemistry scores did. I cried and cried and cried for hours on October 25, 2007, Thursday, a weekend that had just gone sour. I remember hysterically yelling at my mom over the phone, while she was in Pakistan, accusing her of not praying enough for me. I just wasn’t ready to believe that College Board had stumped me over one of the very first balls of the innings. I went into depression, a word that I had always disassociated myself with. It took me a good month or two to shed off the coat of misery I had decided to wear and go on to do the SAT twice more, with higher scores, but still not up to the mark of AKU. I had dreamt and prayed about getting into AKU. I had imagined myself in AKU all the time. My prayers had begun with “Oh Allah, do whatever’s in my best interest. Let me get into AKU! Oh please God!” But as they say, Man proposes and God disposes.

Since bygones are bygones, I’m going to come back to June 25, 2008. So here I am sitting, typing and shedding a random tear or two, trying to put my kaleidoscopic mind on paper. Before you jump to any conclusion, I’m not at all exhausting my lacrimal glands overtime over the “unacceptance” letter. Over-whelmed is the keyword. I’m over-whelmed by the speed with which times have flown in front of my very eyes. I’m enthralled by how simple things can seem and how complex they are actually, deep down inside. I’m awestruck by the lessons nature teaches and how it teaches them to us. I’ve just been bowled over by the Greatness of the Al-Mighty. I’m not afraid to call this letter a rejection or a failure; I admit I was not good enough and therefore wasn’t given the chance, but ironically, I suddenly feel so privileged and blessed. The feeling’s so beyond words that I’d probably run out of space and time to explain just how much lighter I feel. As I look at the various choices I have around me, I am forced to thank Allah for the numerous blessings He has showered upon me. Upon close inspection, I discovered that I have the grades, the finance and the will to make my way forward, all due to God’s grace and mercy. As I had said earlier, “when one door closes, another opens” and I will just have to wait for one with the hope that I don’t become blind to an open door.

As I sit here and type, I don’t want to sound as if I’m gloating over my rejection, but I’m celebrating the essence of being called a potential competitor. I will always keep the letter dear and near to me, since it has been a major factor in grounding me to earth and it has instilled in me a new hope and a new desire to prove all the negativities wrong. Insh’Allah, there will come a day soon, when I get into a great medical college and enroll in it as a diligent M.B.B.S student. The day that happens, Insh’Allah, I will feel that I have found the “biryani masala” that I have always looked for, to spice up my life.