Tag: postaday

  • The Anti-Me, Anti-She

    If I were my exact opposite…this should be fun: 1. From girly girl to tomboy. I’d be the girl sporting leather jackets, metal studs, mad pink eyebrows and pierced everything. I’d be rough around the edges, street. A pink lip mark crusted cigarette would have a place of honour between my lips, along with bad →

  • And…Another One Bites The Dust: Nineteenth Birthday

    Ahh, June 25th. Another year. Nineteen finally, happy and content. Hello, birthday. Hello Nineteen. I hope we can be friends. Wishlist: A bestseller to my name, the power to talk to animals, a tiny teensy waist and magic powers. Because all the things I have are already out of this world. Thank you God, I’m →

  • Facebook Connect…Thumbs Up Please?

    Hi, I’ve been writing this blog for almost a year, and in speed time, its grown. I never thought I’d have a voice, or that over 200 people would want to hear what I had to say. I’ve found my vocation, which is pretty useful, since I had earlier dreams of being a princess, a →

  • Saved By The Frappe

    The kindest moment that happened to me was around two months ago, in a mall. I was in dire, I say dire need of a sugar rush (I happen to be the most incorrigible sweet tooth ever). I was almost dizzy when I reached the Starbucks counter, and flopped my sad little head onto it. →

  • Pain, Loss, And Art

    The birthday call The phone rings at precisely twelve A shuffle, a pause “Hi, happy birthday” “Why thank you” The awkward silence Stretching, expanding, drowning Every minute weeping, Telling the tale Of a different memory. * The world out there The sky and earth Niches carved for sun and stars It’s still the same “But →

  • Of Rain, And Being Born

    I was a child born to rain. The 25th of June, 1994 was a break in a nearly four month long scorching heat wave. On this day, when I was still cocooned, blissfully ignorant, in the encompassing safety of my mother’s womb, around 7 people lost their lives in the city. Lahore was like an →

  • Bracelets Aren’t Made Of Blood (Warning: Might Be Triggering)

    I’m genuinely disturbed. No matter what I’m doing online, instagram, facebook, twitter, or just reading the news, there’s at least one post that mentions this: Self Harm. I’m not going to pretend to understand what goes on in the minds of people who harm themselves. I was raised in a family of extremely strong individuals, →

  • “Mommy, can you buy me a new dolly?”

    I had writer’s block. So terribly that whenever I scribbled a single word onto a page, I wouldn’t be able to justify its existence. Then today I found out something eerie, and I had to write about it. Isla de las Munecas Ahan, the Island of the Dolls. It’s a small island, a ‘floating garden’ →

  • Meanwhile, In Lahore…Elections 2013 – Hello, Inky Thumbs

    Elections 2013 Operating on exactly one hour’s sleep, I got up to single-handedly change the fate of my country. Or at least that’s what all the news channels said I could do. “The country’s in YOUR hands, you must bring the change.” Change…what? As a purely subjective yet officially registered voter, I felt I was →

  • Hold My Hand, You’re All Alone. And Now, So Are We.

    How do I tell you what loneliness is? Loneliness is standing in the middle of a raging thunderstorm, and being caught up by the noise inside your head. It’s that time between day and night, when the day has begun to pick up it’s things and leave, and night is still a distant event. Loneliness →

  • Masala Tea, And Indian Memories

    I wonder who among us doesn’t occasionally sit down and have tea with their memories. The past, whatever it is, just is. Or was, whichever is more appropriate. Memories are a strange and wonderful thing; sometimes you remember perfectly, that chunk of recollection is there in your palm, and yet at other times you embellish, add on →

  • A Controversy For Your Collection, Mr. President

    Dear (Mr.) President of the USA, (controversy, obviously) I’d like you to trade places with me for a day. When you’re in my body and start to live your life, you’ll inevitably notice a lot of things. First off, you will wake up in stifling heat, your bedclothes pasted to you, by glue it’d seem. →

  • Ginny Weasley, Meet Real Life

    So, my best friend and I (in a particularly twilight zonish bout of insomnia), were complaining about how girls in books never have to go through regular life. Okay sure, so they have a lot on their plates, what with Dark Lords, Dragons, and lumpy spaghetti. But as with the Harry Potter series, there’s magic, →

  • Be My Friend, Lisa?

    If anyone has seen Girl, Interrupted and not loved it, I would like to know them, and teach them a thing or two. Talk about moving chick flicks. However, the point is, Angeline Jolie is absolutely stellar. Her character in the movie, Lisa is a sociopath with neurotic tendencies who has never gone into remission, and so →

  • Dial 800-TAMPON (Or When A Psycho Calls)

    *ring ring* “Hello, who is this?” “OhmyGOD hun I’m so glad you’re home! I have to tell you something dynamite! Ok so I’ll start with what happened yesterday!” “- excuse me? Wh-who is this?” “HUN I have no time to play your little games right now, just listen to what I have to say. Shut →

  • Blogging For Squirrels…And OCD

    An ode to blogging. – To the fish in the river, and the fish in the sea “Why do you live in water?” “Ahh, you’d be pretty shocked if we walked, you see.” – To the kangaroo (addressing her pouch are we) “Why do you keep little joey chest to chest?” “Because then I can’t possibly →

  • 5 Disney Movies I Found Disturbing…

    Okay so when you’re a kid and your parents pop in a Disney movie with lunch or supper, you get all excited. A fantasy land with cartoon characters and singing and dancing! What could be better? However, now that I’m older, I’m beginning to see those movies in a new light… 5. ALICE IN WONDERLAND →

  • Broccoli Yes, Ryan Gosling No

    The ‘I Am Sort of Weird’ List: Basically, I’m different from a lot of people my age, and here’s how. I love love LOVE broccoli. With cheese, without, steamed, boiled, mushy, anything. I don’t like Ryan Gosling. Repeat. Do not. Never have, never will. I think about things on various levels. For eg, I picture myself →

  • The Angel Who Broke A Wing…And Wobbled

    My last post was all about romance novels in the ‘Fallen Angel’ category; quite a bitter little post I must admit. But it did inspire me to imagine what I would write about, if I were ever to step into the divinely murky waters of fallen angels and their world on earth. First off, my main lead →

  • I Want To Touch My Boyfriend’s Wings…

    She said, “You’re an angel!” My sister, sitting right next to me, (annoyingly so, in fact) was chattering incessantly about the new love-of-her-life Daniel Gregori or Greogri or Greg, something. His flawless features, blond hair, perfect lazy (bitchy) smile and oh, angel wings. Also, his unfortunate non existence.  I’ve read a couple of swooning romances →

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