Being Human…

Was skimming through some material on the internet, for a friend’s project and suddenly found my thoughts setting focal on one query! Not to falsely imply that I began to question the very existence of myself or anyone, but plainly the attention was jittery on everything else and fastened to one hook primarily.

Before being anything or everything that one is, each one is a human! The question that arises what it really means of being a human? Does it mean to have the physical body structure that hypothetically only humans have? Is it the gifted intelligence of the race, the ability to ponder, investigate and discover? It is any sort of a scientific calculation that determines the status of a being as that of one from the most superior race of beings, a human? Does being human mean simply dwelling in a social setup and not isolated? Or does it mean having a political nature? Being indulged in the affairs of trade and commerce? Or does being human means taking pride in territory, race and creed? Is it human only to create and discard and recreate device and be the deviser not the devised? What does it mean to be a human?

Being human is to have a heart; not a piece of flesh equalling the size of your clenched fist, not a vibrating chip that regulates a flow inside, but a heart with universality and purity of love within. Being human implies in no manner implies to assume superiority over creatures of God, but in all due respects allotting their rightful places in this ecosystem. Being a human means to give the status of human dignity to every human being residing on the face of our planet. Granting of rights and honor in equity, equality and harmony. All men are not equal but none is superior to another rather. Humanity is no comparison to the weights of luxuries, it is granting of basic human rights by one to another. It is a smile of assurance, a pat of appreciation, a hand held out for aid, a shoulder lent to cry on… a bite from bread shared, a moment from happy lives spared, an ear to sink in the despair and a hug for understanding…

Human mind is the hub of discernments, assumptions and perceptions that we create our worlds with, revolving on the focal of our thoughts, experiences and ventures. Perceptions are delusional and fabricated realities are never the actuality of existence. Overlooking the situations hampering the ways of our fellow humans, the challenges of the arduous human mortality encountering the fundamental dynamics of difference in lives and experiences of every individual; we tend to weigh the cotton and silver together in one balance. Remember the basic significance of the silver fiber and the ornamental metal in the regulation of our days. The fiber makes clothing, the need of all and sundry and the metal makes the ornament, the luxury of the few. Terming discrimination as differentiation, by no single mean, alters the sense of one’s act. The strong, if devour the weak, can’s ensure their own survival. But the impossibility of existence of a classless society does not neutralize the need for equity, just distribution and harmony. A human is every man who faced the horrendous face of the evil but didn’t shake hands with it to guarantee his own life. A human is every creature who protested against brutality against other humans and the man too, who saved a dying language-less animal. Human is who can see through the pink glass of his one illusions and cease to hallucinate of other’s misery as their commitment to evil or unhuman activism. A human is, who considers the other human of his kind with due disrespect to race, color and creed.

Being human is but to possess a heart; love, empathy, care, respect, generosity and compassion. Being human is, extending understanding not echoing shrills, that of our own perceptions. Bulleh Shah rightly warned man against surpassing his own humanity when he said, “Masjid dha dey, mandir dha dey, dha dey jo kuj dhenda; bus kisey da dil na dhaveen, Rab dilaan vich renda…” which meant: “Destroy the mosque, destroy the temple, destroy it all that is destructible; Just don’t break a heart for God resides in each!” God is love, and so is the human heart. Being human is to have a heart!

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The Weekly!

I have been lost, away… No, I did not wander away to Timbuktu! I was home! I was lost and stuck in work and I missed all the lovely beings of this world, the writing and blogging world. I pretty much belong here, I believe. And if I don’t belong here then I love paying a visit in a while just to say hi! I am free today, at least this hour! Reading and skimming through blogs and catching up on everything I have missed in the past few days. And yes, listening to my favorite songs while writing this.

Apologies people, markets in Timbuktu were all closed so no souvenirs for you folks. I don’t know if they went on stroke upon my visit. Sigh… However, I have learned today that it is important to be much regular on blogs than I am. I clear my terms with hundred percent attendance but if they asked my presence in the blogging world, I’d be detained and sent to community service.

Learning from my mistakes, that humans generally don’t do and I already doubt my status of being an earth origin, I am going to be more regular. I will post on every weekend. Oh, yeah, big day people. University starts on Monday, I will be a junior! This calls for a hangout on the first day, going to WhatsApp my crazy gang now! So, weekends will be here, in the blogging world like a pixie back in town. Every week I will write something, silly, boring, serious, or simply annoying like me! But I will write. And perhaps, we can have something out of Pakistan or from anywhere in the world as my post topic, that I fancy that is! If there were to be a sacred fire torched at a plinth in the name of which we took our oaths in this tinsel town, it would have been so amazing! Here we go again, I am blowing another bubble! Pinned and burst! Bang! Do bubbles burst that way? Skeptical!

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But, there will be a post every weekend, Zahra’s word!

Fresher Becomes A Junior: Ends the Sophomore Year

It is time that flies and I be the adventurer cast a spell on myself and flew along – wingardium leviosa – swish and then flick!

It was exactly two years ago when I merited my admission to this hundred years old institution in Lahore, the name is quite English though, Kinnaird College. It were the summers in two thousand and thirteen when I cleared the entrance exams and the interviews and finally set myself on the road to become an Economist and later to realize that Newton was right, for every economist’s theory there exists another economist’s equal and opposite theory – no, wait, newton was talking about forces! I should be very sorry for my dull humor though the world would have been in chaos if some dull person did not tell them that their means can’t meet their ends, we all want the best we can get, don’t we! I got what I wanted, admission in the city’s primer institutes for grooming girls and producing the most success females in the country.

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August the twenty sixth was my first day at the university and finding myself before a computer desk to enroll in various courses got my head spinning that very evening. However, the day at the campus was short because you can’t go on with an orientation program for too long I suppose, it already makes half the attendees dizzy. As for me I was wide awake, the motto was fascinating, charming and inspiring and pretty much a canon to live by. “Light to guide us, courage to support us, love to unite us!” The motto is pretty much the persona of a true KCite in herself and me too, perhaps. With light, courage and love I began my journey as a fresher. Tiring schedules, arduous workload, lectures, assignments, quizzes, projects, exams… friends, chatters, laughter, gags, snacks, music… events, people, experiences, performances, prizes… learning, growing, prospering… And ended the sophomore year.

I am as anxious for the university to reopen this August as I was excited for August the twenty sixth to break two years ago, the transition from a fresher to junior was an experience in itself and now the junior awaits at the platform number nine quarters for she anticipates a better journey ahead, I await the arrival of the Kinnaird Express!

Until I graduate, please keep your theories in reserves, I am already paying quite a high rate of interest for having an interest in the existing ones. And this is so unfair that my keyboard doesn’t have a “tongue out” key on it, somebody should be fined for this.

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Waiting makes me hungry, time for a snack!

Cheers!

Introducing Me: Identity – More Than A Name

Love me or hate me, I am me – the crazy young me! Have been around here for more than twelve months and not surprisingly as an unnoticed commentator. The English idiom for the Urdu phrase pouncing in my mind right now is: it’s better late than never! So, here is a big hello to the world! Introducing me: this is Zahra from Pakistan or more precisely a twenty year old girl named Zahra from the city of Lahore in the Asian country of Pakistan; this is the right way to introduce oneself, isn’t it so? My name can very well identify me but is it the whole of my identity? I believe otherwise.

What did you conceive when this piece of text read you that I hail from the land called Pakistan? Never mind, I’m sure to erase the conceptions; if it were some text message I would have inserted a smiling emoticon after the last remark.

“Zahra, is a youth with a persona unique to her – developed through the course of time ageing in an environment that ensured her intellectual nurturing to observe, learn and grow which perhaps pretty much aptly explains this domain in use: Facts and Commentary. She is fluent in her mother tongue and Pakistan’s lingua franca Urdu and possesses an exceptional command over what would ideally be called the language of the world, English. Interested in history and culture she has learned a very few basic words from foreign languages alongside her ethnic medium of communication Punjabi. Economy and politics interest her and sports, cricket in particular have earned her fondness while cartoons and animes have always been an attraction, a voracious reader but not a book worm as technology is convenient enough to lend the world at a click’s access to innumerous articles and what not and has a peculiar taste in music, arts and crafts. She is a happy go lucky vibrancy wandering about the walkways flaunting her self-absorbed observant dressing stealing chatters, giving away a chirpy smile and speaking her complex mind, composes her tunes and dances her own moves. Simply oddity in disguise of a youth!” reads the book of biographies residing in the shelf tagged “1995” in the old archive.
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Have I identified myself, really? No! My identity is my surname in the society, my nationality in the lands demarcated as outer spaces to my beautiful homeland’s territory and my skill to interact and ability to juggle with words here in the world of writers rather bloggers. I am a writer by no academic qualifications, trainings or made choices; I am a writer by trait, a natural player of words be them Urdu or English… I am no champion though! Learning through life is what I believe in and that is what keeps me going. Why do I exist in this world away from the one we all originally belong to? I am here to state facts and make comments; facts about anything or everything about the life that I live… a journey of challenges in this mortal world… and comment on anything or everything about the life I live… an extravaganza, a spectrum of colors…

An identity is but beyond a name and now you know mine, will you join me in my quest to bring a positive change in life of my own and everyone else because I wish the world was a gentler place?

Hasta La Vista, Amigos!