I’ve been thinking a great deal these days – searching my soul for some answers, answers to questions that haven’t been asked yet. Every one of us talks about the true purpose of life. We struggle to find ourselves amidst this self created chaos that is; our day to day lives.
When I first started writing, I was 14 years old. I knew it then that I was passionate about putting my word across. I wanted to be heard – being the youngest in the family, it was no easy feat. As a child with two older siblings, you seldom get heard in conventional Pakistani households. While everyone assumes that you’re spoiled since your womb dwelling days, it is quite the contrary. In my case, I channeled my anger and resentment (ah! those troublesome teens) towards writing. I had journals, notebooks, diaries filled with random doodles, phrases and paragraph after paragraph laced with raw emotion. It was cathartic, but back then I didn’t know it, in fact I probably didn’t even know the meaning of cathartic. As I grew older, I knew writing was something I’d always hold close to me. Every time I wrote, I felt alive – something inside me sparked and it still holds true today.
I created this blog three years ago amidst the blissful chaos of university – classes, fickle friendships and faux loyalties. Sincerity was a word, thrown around with as much ease as breathing itself. I found myself standing alone in the pouring rain, time and time again. It is then when I realised that it is every woman for herself. I spent a great deal pondering over my situation, I felt pangs of loneliness every time I saw or heard people talk about being with their sisters, their plans, their shared belongings, I lacked the most essential element in life; a decent companion.
I asked my mother the age-old question “Why don’t I have a sister, Mum?” and she tried her utmost to give me the best possible answer by explaining the complicated dynamics of fate, and how she was my comrade, my sister and my mother; all in one. I hugged her tight and everything fell into place once again. It’s amazing how the simple act of feeling the warmth of a loved one, dissolves a moment’s worth of pain.
For most part, my life has revolved around my parents’ approval. I have loved them so deeply, and profoundly, I know no other way except to do things for their happiness. Their happiness hasn’t always been in sync with mine, but I gave in, knowing that the Greater Good lies in their happiness. I don’t know how successful I’ve been with this mantra so far, but I’m still figuring out my life.
My struggle, my journey has been within me. It lies inside me, stretches far and wide within my body, I have come a long way overcoming obstacles, training for the battlefield of practicality and yet I feel I haven’t even started yet. I feel like I lack people skills, I fail to understand how this big world works in mysterious ways and how people can be so cruel to one another when there is such dearth of positivity and light amongst us.
Siblings fight amongst themselves for a ‘pound of flesh’, they drag their parents down, not considering any external factors, spouses disrespecting each other and everybody around them, best friends become instinct, one doesn’t call or message, the other doesn’t either and pretty soon it’s all over in a matter of miscalculated and impulsive responses.
We are all on such unique journeys in our respective lives, and yet we lack empathy and sincerity in our relationships. I decided a while back that I was going to lower my expectations and stop hoping to find meaning in meaningless, strictly need based interactions. My solace and my journey became integrated with my writing, my heaps of books and my blog…this is where I am today, and there is a long way to go.