A Story A Day ~ 5 ~ The Real Question~ Thunderous Lightning ~


He sends down water from the sky, and riverbeds flow according to their capacity. The current carries swelling froth. And from what they heat in fire of ornaments or utensils comes a similar froth. Thus God exemplifies truth and falsehood. As for the froth, it is swept away, but what benefits the people remains in the ground. Thus God presents the analogies.

Surah  13 Thunder Verse.. 17

Allah O Akbar’  my heart spoke out as a terrible cracking sound rang out, a loud thunder clap..darkness of the night sharply broken by the stark white flash ..split second speed…my feet cold,numb, froze…the spirit anticipated more but…all was quiet…then came the pattering sound of rain as the clouds began the release of purified soft drops…blessing uncountable..can anyone ever count the raindrops? or the clouds or the birds swooping down right and left,rising up turning around and swooping down again… showing their joy and fear and respect for their Creator,praising in flight and flock…they are definitely better enjoying the freedom of the atmosphere…

this afternoon the skies hid the sun from time to time..I could feel the warmth and the cold alternating as I sat outside watching the scene..what glory what power is manifest…and the question again struck…what must I do ..how can I reach out to spread His word name and love …as my duty…ignorance engulfed me ..how much do I know..what effort have I made to learn..to read His word and about His Messenger…how many names do I remember?…my head bowed down..I know ..but a little…suddenly I felt the sunlight grow brighter…the clouds had shifted away while questions struck my soul…I felt warm ..the message..’ begin again…open the book..share…remove the cold darkness…let the light of knowledge shine through words….words..yes..words….words…..read..read..read……


.Oh there is a wall…under construction…and another a little away from the gate’ I noticed this change as we drove past on our way to the capital…’ the old historic graveyard…where world war heroes lie in peace…the time when this part of the continent was under British Rule..a colony..no freedom…why are the walls being built? another disturbing question…important persons visited this area..Princess Diana came..Ah..the car moved ahead…change was visible as yet again the old tonga stand was no more..this was 22 No Chungi…as it is still known…no walls here…


22 No Chungi

my story today kept hovering on the word..questions’..test questions..O level questions..




img_0332 what about this stone in the way..how did it come here? for how long? how many people felt it blocking their way? did anyone try to remove it..did not seem that way…well..any way…

then I saw…another way..small dusty ‘katchi’ pag dandi’…a bird sitting right in the middle…what strange sights we come across if we are with an awakened spirit..are we..no is it He who shows us His miracles…His ways of guiding towards the Truth..Who gives food to the tiniest of creatures on Earth..see how the bird feeds itself…if only we understand and be grateful…

The car moved on…the lesson…clear the way for others..make life easy..help others unseen ..who ever may pass the way…and ..Oh dear ..traffic…more traffic..block…block…..img_0349


A Story a Day ~ 4 ~ Rains Flood, Canines Howl, Crows Caw…Prayer Protects


Rain a blessing  yet dangerous and furious at times…is life,a loving sensation of the drops on the face in Summers and a sublime spectacle  to observe from the window in Winters,specially when the water drops transform into white flakes before your very eyes.

43- Do not you see that God drives the clouds,
then joins them together, then piles them on each other,then you see the rain comes forth from between them.
(24- The Light, 43)

My thoughts wander to and fro from the rain filled memories miracles and moments we enjoyed felt terrified and prayed in for protection and forgiveness…

It is the fourth consecutive night. Plop…pop…plop…raindrops land on the backyard  hard plastic cover…’It comes again…just a few days ago the nation prayed for it…the long dry spell was creating a sense of fear adding to the already prevalent sense of terror, a verbiage of untruths

Life becomes stranger day by day,yet simpler hour by hour and slower moment by moment as consciousness is attracted to sounds eternally audible but ignored and taken for granted. The sound of the harmonica played by some unknown unseen enthusiast on the road at night, is one sound I remember from my childhood days that would create a deep sense of sweet joy through my soul and spirit.My feet frozen glued to the place the moment the chords touched the auditory system would remain so for long till the music was heard no more.I often wondered about the mysterious player.Later when I read Shakespeare I found similar thoughts in the Tempest…’the winds did sing it to me…the name…’ perhaps for the King it was a name, a personal loss, a message of life but for me it was divinity communicating the melody of affection from the celestial spheres.It was extremely fascinating and long lasting.

 My stream of consciousness, immersed in quietude of the late night hours  finds it being knifed by the sudden far off howling of the canines,some kept as pet guards but mostly, quite a number, roaming as stray species in lanes and nearby fields…it is disturbs strangely


   Early morning will bring the cawing of the crows who have made nests on two of the four trees planted along the dividing wall between the house next door. The cawing and chirping of the morning birds sounds better than..the howling at night which is frightening..reminds one of the Hound of the Baskervilles.

Pitter patter …drizzling now…drops seem smaller..and when they get smaller they begin to freeze and become snow… I wonder if snow will fall…nature is so full of variety…but terrible was the time when rains flooded our lane and water crossed the porch and entered the house…this flood visited in the Summers and took away many precious books,some furniture and some carpeting material…leaving a smelly mess…and fear….

months later, the lane was repaired laid with tuff tiles…some relief…but the heavy down pour would be scary till it lasted…it came back…

Like the divine music…nature’s guidance descended…forgetting something so vital…yes..the prayer..the prayer..for the rain…and then I became a prayer warrior..I opened the small prayer book my daughter had gifted..’Ammi keep this close’

Prayer that changes destiny, the onslaught of the enemy the evil eye ,prayer that protects prayer that keeps one safe prayer that brings help….That is the key ..prayer is better than sleep….yet I was weak  but I tried…and held on to the rope with all the strength I could gather…the flood stopped…but came again…but again prayer helped…as Allah is the Greatest Most Gracious Most Merciful…the Forgiving…

Rain is a blessing it is pure…but prayer is must…prayer is the answer…and  a flashback …the vivid memory of Grandfather sitting in a chair, praying,reciting holy verses as thunder raged lightning crashed…it was a dark and stormy night…the year 1956…I ran from room to room flashing a torch…I felt no fear…I am no longer afraid….

silence is the night..so peaceful…..so serene….

‘those [among them] who believed in Allah and the Last Day and did righteousness – will have their reward with their Lord, and no fear will there be concerning them, nor will they grieve.Chapter (2) sūrat l-baqarah (The Cow)

A Story A Day ~3~ Feline Friends Appear’ The Name was Yoda’

So much can be written about these friendly felines of my life.I wonder often about the purpose and the reason.There always is one strange mysterious having a metaphysical connection…supernatural communication,unknown protection and spiritual companion….and ,well…..

Today my story is about the cats that come by themselves.I have named the latest..’Allah Ditti’…Later I came to know that I should call it ‘Allah Ditta’….the real name being Yoda’…..

There is one here too’ I heard my son say…’where? …hardly a week in the new house and a grey cat appears in the porch…’she seems frightened…I thought…at first but day by day as another week passed she made her place in the small back porch…a regular visitor…the pictures below show the cats that appeared in our house in Rawalpindi…we left the place in 2014 December …severely cold winter that gave me partial pneumonia…but also recorded a family get together-dinner…


I have long known that cats have always been close.They come by themselves and keep watch,guard and try to communicate…the photographs below are recent…October 2016..14589699_10154585636700747_7498798443233540404_o img_20170117_152236_577

we shifted to a third house in this area near Insaf street …people say we are IK’s neighbors and IK does not know…maybe some day I will walk up the hill for a visit….one day I noticed the limp…she was cared for with milk and a soft cushion…she stayed till she felt better…I was so happy to see the cured leg…and how she was happy too…rolling on her back with joy purring loudly …wanting to play more and more….and so one day she pushed her way inside the house…Oh dear’ this cannot be allowed..I felt sad for her..but somehow it made me uncomfortable….

I noticed that she would sit outside the door on the steps…then on the car bonnet..happy and satisfied…but we did not own it ..Yoda had to be home where she belonged….and so one day the neighbor’s son came and carried her away

I have not seen her for the last two days….strange but I am missing Yoda …

how is it that a small animal can be so loving soft and playful….and human beings….well….strangers are around too….

The World is Too Much With…

download What do we remember of the past

moments of joy sorrow and loss

or when we are gifted,yet it is always we,our life,our self

what about the people outside

those without food and shelter

and what about those on the streets

what about more people far away

what about those who in power stay…

yes what about those who struggled

to make our larger home….

I have so much to ask

so much to say…..

Tale Weaver #99: A Dickensian Christmas 22.12.16…December Travel Tale…A Dickensian La Mode


Spatra  was no more.His body a mass of flesh swollen and cold.Strange apparition, enshrouded, quite an unusual length scary sight. Spatra was in heaven.He was good,secret giver,helper friend and much much more. Why it had to be in December?

A month of miracles but dates set long ago have been declared controversial.Do we have nothing else to discuss than dates of births and deaths? again I wonder…but death is a reality and ‘ghosts and spirits?…well

It was in a December that I had the chance to spend some time at a cousins place.Breakfast of boiled eggs brown bread and hot tea became unforgettable and so did the treatment of the education commission…my hard earned masters degree could not be recognized because it had my husbands name on it ..alas ..again…the question…why did I have to be a ‘back to college mom? but why not ..I have the right to education haven’t I ?but studying with husbands name?  a crime…

External heat and cold had no influence on the commission.Names matter, not the students hard work.My spirit was alive for learning but my paper did not prove it..so let it be  my ghost in me…Commission ‘ Commission…Ah Uncle Scrooge…it beats you…I know that I know English..the commission does not care…I will haunt them in their paper dens…I will…I must…rain snow hail shrouded it… but wait..it did not snow in this city…neither heavy rain fell specially  his year the days passed as dry as dust..hmm..God is unhappy…no rains in December….’iced offices’more icy than Murree snow

But what is this?

I walked and walked and walked,my heart heavy as Spatra was no more to console…my thoughts astray, eyes contacting other sights..the eyes took control of the heart…but ‘question me not as to where have I been my eyes deeply painful at what they have seen…my city  unclean…How could I greet someone in this mess…silence sealed my senses…

I stepped on trash rough paper and ….stones.I bent down to peer at something familiar… they were real bones’…whose body bones were these..ruthless is everywhere,hatred,target killing Oh, I looked around again…baleful eyes…I saw stray cats dogs, cows and goats…they winked sadly or blinked …visions of the brutal butcher’s big cutter zoomed …..my purpose was – a bookstore…my company on the road became stranger…I dragged my feet  stepped off the footpath as it had ended…I found myself at an open space,dusty dry and sloping  unevenly making an unguarded entry to a dwelling..’katchi abadi’ it was known as and people called it so…’squatter settlements on urban public land’ to be exact..where poor people resided in tent like structures…or “Jhuggis” meaning poor neighborhood or slum . And the actual dwelling  called as “Jhonpra” meaning a Hut.

if school were good I would’ve stayed on the beat and felt peaceful…do kids from these ‘jhuggis go to school? ”question me not please for I have no answers…have no words for humans living as campers and fumbling empty tins, bags, bottles and cans, and live without food,water, pots and pans, what a life !

In sight came a small group of kids,  roaming happily in another empty space…unwashed faces, hair disheveled, fingers impatiently scratching away repeatedly in the thinnest of naturally growing strands, a home for the tiniest of insects found …but strangely happy smiling and giggling shaking shoulders…shaking away hunger,  hopeful ignorantly at play… stopping dead in their dancing stance and again come the questioning looks..’what are YOU doing here?

and I asked silently…..’what people are these are they refugees ? do they need passports and passes please, question me not …I want to be at ease, there is more than eye can see, the ears can hear, figures grow the world thickens.dirty more than a place of Charles Dickens..

‘question me not for what more I see, people hit shot killed a girls bleeding body, am I awake is this real I ask myself, why can’t I reach The Book on The Shelf?

Meanwhile the fog and darkness thickened so, that people ran about with flaring links,cutting the pitch dark environment,no bells rung, for in a place of few churches bells would ring only on special occasions.’No faint misty smoke of burning coal in small metallic ‘braziers’ coal is expensive..it makes the rich richer…Ah the hard work of laborers in the coal mines…

fog is getting denser…cold is getting colder than the ice pole…people stranded on airports bus stands, and amidst traffic …

I wonder if the nurses teachers and doctors got their pay checques? they were protesting …who is being paid on time? The new man in place of Sparta…Wazan … is like…like..reminds one of Uncle Scrooge.He thinks he owns all the cash…hides the keys…’go away,come tomorrow…’  but office time is not yet over’ ‘ it is for me’now go I said’

‘knock knock’ I said ‘go’ who is it”..’Your friend Sparta’..Open the window’..’Sparta but you you…er…no longer’….’Well I am here’ I want you to do something real special for me..I have seen your place in heaven..it is right at the edge you may fall into hell any time..unless you..so I have come to help and warn you’…

You are not real?…Humbug, humbug…..

Come I want to show you something…’

Frightened and shivering he crept towards the window..’humug’…the voice said again..Come’ the window crashed open and Soon Wazan found himself flying over the mansions, one his very own…soon they reached a fortress like structure..’Oh a jail..who is here?..’Take a look’… the look through the small window near the roof revealed a prisoners cell..there in chains stood Wazan’s son’…a Judge was speaking..’and this punishment for the rest of your life is for your fathers brutal disregard of the state law’..’you have to stay in this dark cell for the rest of your life,all your property has been sealed and money accounts frozen’…’\no \no wait don’t do that oh please…’They cannot hear you’\time is up’…

I …I ..will pay the checques tomorrow..\call \off the strike..\call the doctors nurses teachers staff where is everyone..it is so cold…Coal Coal’

wake up sir, its time for office…

Oh Oh I breathe..what day it is ? Pay Day Sir’..hurry hurry I must be on time today..

The servants at first puzzled,quickly turned around…..

The sun shone brightly…the fog had lifted and people were quickly forming lines outside the window….as the large signboard said’ Come \collect your pay’ \its pay day today’

\a dream or reality?  Yet to see….

short story slam week 59, Wheat and Maixun, Nature in life, December 15, 2016 to January 1, 2017—Nature Creates for Love and Life…’Let’s Cut the Grass’

Image result for spring wheat field ‘lets cut’


‘let us cut the grass its getting too tall

the leaves also fall and cover the place

spoil the grace,dirty the space…’

‘no,but …it is so green and fresh and full of life’

it causes no painful strife,to man or wife,nor cuts back like a knife’

‘life has to end anyway and whats the use of grass, we cannot eat it nor cook it,nor do we keep animals here that could be fed with it’

‘well you could cut and take it to some farm or farmer who may need it for his animals’

well, who will take all that trouble,it takes so much time…and I cannot spare that’hmm’ well you can go ahead and cut…up… then clean up also….I am going inside to read and have a cup of tea,its kind of getting cold’

Thoughts strongly strike the mind… why do we have to spoil natures work,nature creates for us ,loves us,makes the world so colorful and amazingly beautiful..if only we had the sight to see all this..our inner lives are alive no more…hearts so cold, feeling less, utterly empty of emotions…is it just me who cares? is my heart and spirit alive ?

Nature is amazing beautiful creative giving, blessing all the year round…and our return for its gifts? ……………………………………………………………………………


we love to hold the stems,we love to be with flowers

we love all the colors we love all the grass…we wish to

stay close and yet look at the stars …

Life is nature, as we are, whether on Earth or the Sky …

No no please don’t cut the grass…we are here just to pass

a good time a short time not long to last,but to complete

our duty our task…

No No don’t cut the grass….

it gives warmth it gives heat,it cools it greens

it is fresh and when it is brown it gives seed

and above all it gives us ‘wheat’ as food to eat…..

wake up its time let’s go into the fields……………………..


NapoWrimo ~ Day 9 ~ Like a Slave Bowing ~

This one sounds simple, but it can be pretty difficult. Today, I challenge you to write a poem that includes a line that you’re afraid to write. This might be because it expresses something very pe…

Source: NapoWrimo ~ Day 9 ~ Like a Slave Bowing ~