Sometimes, I get the feeling that my mother knows. Not the full, ugly truth of it, not the details I lock away, but the shape of my struggle. She has a hunch, a maternal instinct that pierces through the walls I build. I'm at an age where most mothers' worries are painted in the bright, cautionary colors of rebellion; bad company, late nights, getting into trouble. But her worry for me is different. It’s softer, quieter, and in its own way, much louder. She doesn't ask where

I often travel for work. As a structural engineer, doing site visits and inspections is part of job. This time though something happened. Something that kept me thinking long after the fligjt landed. I was flying, and the plane started shaking. Turbulent weather is common in winter in the Midwest. The surprising thing was that while others were panicking and I could clearly hear the commotion caused by the turbulence, I felt calm. I did not even open my eyes. I simply recited

I remember how my father died. Crystal clear, as if it happened yesterday. Hard to believe it has already been eight years. I was not in Pakistan when that day unfolded, but when I say I know how my dad died, I am not talking about the chain of events that led to it. I am talking about something deeper, the state of his soul in those final moments. I know because I was the one who bathed him for his funeral. I was the one who pulled him from cold storage, washed every wound,

There is a strange symmetry in this world. You are not given what you wish for, you are given what you can stand to want. Taufiq ba andaaza e himmat hai azal se . Divine help has always been in proportion to human resolve. The skies are not generous or cruel, they are exact. They do not deny anyone, they only reflect back the intensity of the desire. I used to think grace was arbitrary. That some people were simply chosen. That some lives were written with gold while others w

The emptiness that once terrified me now feels like a kind of peace. I used to think of silence as something to fight against, something that needed to be filled with sound or company or purpose. But after a while, when you face it every day, the void becomes a companion. The monster learns your name. The darkness stops growling. There’s a comfort in the things that once frightened you. You begin to see patterns in the stillness. You start to enjoy eating alone, the quiet cli

Choose outrage. Choose moral high ground from the comfort of your couch. Choose being against something when it is safe. When the bodies...

Some days, the weight of life hides not in grand tragedies but in the small, trivial moments we ache to share with someone who is no longer listening. I saw a red stone today, and it broke me. Not for what it was, but for the silence it revealed. saw a red stone today. It rested by the side of the road, half-buried in dust, waiting for no one. People passed by without noticing, their eyes fixed ahead, their minds somewhere else. But I stopped. For some reason, it caught me. M

Today I learned what helplessness really is. Not the kind we mention casually, but the kind that strips you bare and leaves you staring...

We met by chance, a twist of fate, Two strangers bound by something great. We spoke at first with guarded grace, Then hearts aligned in quiet space. Your words, reflections of my mind, Two weary souls, the same resigned. The world around us droned and hissed, Yet in your gaze, the silence kissed. We craved escape from life’s dull ache, Each shallow bond, each smile too fake. But in your company I found A place where I could feel unbound. I knew too soon I’d fall too deep, You

I sit here in a coffee shop, living my mundane life, working on some projects that are due in a few days. I try to distract myself, but I...

I find it strange. More and more people trying to be seen, to be remembered. Chasing fame, chasing a legacy. I do not understand it. Why...

“Why have you changed?” my mom asked during one of our occasional WhatsApp calls. It seemed like an innocuous question at first, but it...

My life is filled with regrets. It’s filled with the realisation (oh, too conscious a realisation) of just how deeply regrets permeate...

Some goodbyes are life changing. They happen in an instant: a final handshake, a last look, a quiet closing of the door. But their impact echoes through your life long after that moment has passed. Such a farewell rearranges the architecture of your soul in ways you never expected. It shuts certain doors within you even as it forces others wide open, altering the entire map of your heart. One door, once full of light, now swings shut with resolute finality: the door of your w

They say the opposite of living is being dead. The world seems to treat this as a binary system. You are either alive or you are dead....

They say there might be an infinite number of universes out there; a universe for every possibility. A universe where a version of you, among all possible versions, exists. A universe where everything unfolds exactly as you wish it had in this one. I hope that’s true. I hope there is a universe where I am whole, where I am a good son, a good friend, a good brother, and a good lover. Every night, I drift into sleep thinking of that universe. The mere possibility of it brings m

“… I had committed a loathsome action again, that what was done could never be undone, and secretly, inwardly gnawing, gnawing at myself for it, tearing and consuming myself till at last the bitterness turned into a sort of shameful accursed sweetness, and at last—into positive real enjoyment! Yes, into enjoyment, into enjoyment! I insist upon that. I have spoken of this because I keep wanting to know for a fact whether other people feel such enjoyment? I will explain; the en

Funny how it works. You can want nothing but happiness for someone yet somewhere deep inside, you know they may never find it while you’re still a part of their world. It sucks. It’s the age-old dichotomy of short-term versus long-term happiness, the cornerstone of this tragic comedy we call life. Why is everything in life a tradeoff? Why does every path we walk demand that we give up something crucial along the way? It’s like nature designed life to be a zero-sum game except

I’ve recently moved back to the U.S., and it’s a narrative I’ve heard countless times: “This is something to be thankful for.”  The whole “new beginning” mantra is practically echoing around me. People keep reminding me of the opportunities I now have, opportunities others might dream of. And yet, there’s this nagging question I can’t seem to shake: what if this isn’t what I ever wanted? I’m not ungrateful; far from it. I see God’s blessings in my life, abundant and constant,

There are times in life when we must accept things as they are, resisting the urge to unravel every reason or explanation. The endless quest for understanding can become a heavy burden, dragging us into a spiral of frustration and confusion. Sometimes, the most sensible path is to embrace the unknown, to live with the unanswered questions rather than let them dominate our thoughts. This acceptance is not about giving up but about finding peace in the present moment, even if i