The Art Of Words

Hey everyone!

There has been a series of events that made me unable to write. YES. A gap of one month is very inconsistent. I agree. I had some family commitments and then lately I have been feeling very down. The reason I have been down is because I have not been clear about my reason of existence. I had been battling with my own self trying to find the ‘meaning of life’. Since I am a rebel, not working, not pulling off any of my mother and father’s expectations, trying to break off from the ‘slave manufacturing consumerism cycle of life’. And then let’s not forget the gloominess in the air. 2016 has been all about deaths. Perhaps I have been thinking about death, and what I need to do in this short span of time or does it even matter what I do? Plus SURVIVAL. Yes I have been battling with the lust of money. It actually gets you everything. One cannot blame themselves for wanting it so much. But then, is that it? Is money, and having everything in life is the only thing to life. Oh the battle continues.

When I go into these zones, I seek inspiration from other people or things, or I go back to looking at my work to find the spark I lost. This time I looked through my own photos and words, trying to find the meaning. I imagined myself attaining my dream and also completely diverting from it. Coincidently, I read my friend Shahaan Anwar needed an inspiration to write.

Shahaan Anwar is an Auditor by profession. But since I know him, that is 8 years, I have seen him write. Writing to Shahaan is what traveling is to me, LIBERATION. I call his writing ‘The Art of words’. It is an Art, forming beautiful intricate sentences that fill you up with crazy imagination.You can hand a picture to him or maybe just a word, he might write down a whole novel on it. We have previously exchanged pictures and words as inspirations.

so while I was seeking inspiration I asked shahaan to write something for me, which actually transformed into a simple task. I gave shahaan three pictures of my past travels, and asked him to write something keeping in mind ‘Circling Around Places’. This perhaps is a start of the series called ‘The Art Of Words’. 


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Ilyasi Masjid – Abbottabad – Pakistan

“Which of the Favors of your Lord Will you deny?”

An Abrahamic verse,

Of a sacred text,

Escapes my lips, in a breathed rush;

there was no intent,

of Being blown away,

By Splendor, of the of the landscape that graced me this day.

The call to prayer was deep and resounding;

Success is assured, once the forehead grazes the marble outlay,

that is a facet one doesn’t argue,

Yet the Luster of sunlight,

Peeking via the stony titans,

Slumbering under the softening Vibrancy,

of heaven’s role-play;

where the Orange gives a bow,

and invites the Dark to have its say.

Oh Abbottabad, you have made my heart aflutter,

with a disarray of chaos and order,

Whether we meet again,

In this life or the Next,

Circling around Places,

I’ll remember watching the summer’s final sunsets,

from this very spot,

And I’ll remember it all.

It won’t be too long ago,

You’ll see.

Just a Lifetime.

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14th August Celebration – NED University of Engineering and Technology – Karachi – Pakistan

Has it been so long since I have seen the two colors flutter through the slight breeze on a warm summer day? Has it been, really? Do I need to remind myself that I myself had stores of memories of the same once a lifetime ago? How can I forget the dull throbbing as the flag would sway in my small hands, my young mind trying to process the significance of the piece of dyed cloth that I held in my hands? I Saw the young ones laughing and holding the different variations of the same in their hands, caressing it with warmth and love alien to their age, while the elders watched it with adoration, misty eyed, as they just kept on watching the fluttering, unaware of all, lost in their dreams for a past hazy under their rose tinted glasses. The sound of the wind against this symbol is known as a flap, though it doesn’t even begin to encompass the historical significance of these marks and colors; an ensign, a mark that gave us the identity which was deserved after so long. I had almost forgotten, amidst the ebbs and flows of convoluted ideas, of half-truths and lies, that in the end, though I will keep on circling around places, I’ll be forever united with the colors of white and green, for Even if my country would seem to forget me, I have realized I have thought about her always, through days on end, or if only for a little bit.

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Makran Coastal Highway – Balochistan – Pakistan

“The Capricious of the lot i am, amongst the darkening skies i pray for the sweet splendour of the blazing sun, and the morning delight. Though i am already drenched, i cannot but stay away from the roads taking me beyond the concrete jungles towards the wastelands of the deserted Highways, where silence reigns supreme; Only punctuated bythe Horns of the Stray Mechanised Juggernauts rumbling away.
Ragged breathing, my only source of companionship, was the clearest sign that i am alive to witness the ruggedness of the hills, plains and mountains; as they slumber on still, unperturbed by the curious ant in awe.

Though they claim not to care, a rogue wind caresses my cheeks, while i shudder with the sudden hit of ecstasy; there is more to these Stone sentinels than they would ever care to admit. Catharsis, a word behind most literary veils, graces itself meekly, if only Briefly, while i unravel; emotions carefully articulated behind the guise of the lens burst forth.
I Stumble.
I am Ashamed.
Such is Mother Nature’s Teasing.
Cannot but help it,
I giggle and move on;
This is a facet of her backyard after all.
I’ll be coming back.
Circling around Places
I’ll come back to where i began;
i’ll be back here again.

Initially it was just for inspiration, trying to understand how my pictures could be perceived, but when he sent me the words i decided to write a blog post and then consequently start a series. They were so beautiful that they actually made me cry. He captured the very thought inside me, wrote it down in a way, i don’t think i would ever be able to. Not only did it make me feel better about everything, it gave me that satisfaction, that I as a human do matter and I can bring happiness and change in life. 

To my conscience, Humanity is the Mother of all religions. Be the Human and Being Human raise the standard of Humanity. – Kamal Haasan

 I think I have my inspiration from this month! I really want to know how you felt when you read the words Shahaan wrote and I would really like everyone to practice the art of words. Look at things from a different perspective. And i would also like, everyone who is reading, to write me back and tell me how they did it. 

Keep visiting  for more inspiration. 

Until Next Time.


p.s: The picture at the end, is my all time favorite. It is old, probably 2 years and I look really good. haha!

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Shahaan Anwar – The man himself.

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You can read Shahaan’s Art of Words and other works, on his instagram. Instagram handle: shahaan101

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A gift that i still cherish! Something I shall hold onto forever. 


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