Locked up in a cage once were two chirping little birds. 
Poor dainty creatures had never known what fate might have brought for them.
Together they had to stand the aversion, the malignity. 
Strive for their freedom, right and dignity. 
Agony was eminent, slowly welling up inside. 
Comfort found room, meanwhile, in one innocent, frightened mind. 
The other one had known he had feathers only to fly. 
Neither of them could decipher how to get ravel of the prison so vile. 
One ceased to bother, found it peaceful to live inside. 
The other one was disdainful, never stopped or simmered down. 
Closed their eyes, both of them, at the same time. 
Innocence turned blind to the outside, disdain to the cage it was caught inside.
Stayed that innocent bird inside the cage gradually shrinking, suppressing and taking hold of its senses. 
Freed itself, the other bird in it's mind, of the prison still there yet immaterially nonexistent. 
Ruthlessly was abandoned the innocent bird by the disdainful one. 
Returned it to find the left out one tightly gripped by the prison's abstract walls.
In the frightful embrace was it taken by a grave, the gravestone of which read "regret".
Took the bird a flight away to the land unknown carrying ocean of words unsaid.

I can travel back on the train of time, some 16 years back. I remember me sitting at the back of my bed and praying, with both my hands raised up, to God. Asking Him to bless me with a little soul that could accompany me during the journey in this brutal world. I can rehear the first cry of the love of my life, the cry that used to make me laugh, the funny cry, paradoxical action and reaction. However, I cannot recall me holding him in my arms, playing with him that I would love the most to do now. Probably because I, myself was too young to do that back then. I remember those mice-like teeth, that heart capturing smile, the sight of which is still effective enough to find the lost joy inside the poor soul seized by the agony of the complicated web of thoughts and pensive situations.

I often reflect on how very opposite things may appear and contrary to the appearances how much closely and tightly they might be destined to be bonded. This is how God plays His tricks. He tricks humans to think of things as things the way they appear, this is one of His ways of choosing his beloved, distinguished ones. Those who are blind to what is reflected by light, those who believe in mysteries, the greatest mystery being He himself, so easy to solve but only for those who can see the invisible, they are the ones He keeps choosing as guests to entertain who will live forever in His heaven.

He was born on the very first date, a burning hot day in the hottest month, June 1. I on the very last day of the freezing cold month, January 31. He in the city, I in the village. He was born ugly and I utterly pretty, as mum says. He loves summer things, I winters. All these disparities and he's the only one, not mama, not papa, not anyone else, whom I express my love to, without any hesitation. He's my life, an element that helps me breathe among the other carcinogenic elements seeking my permission, to get inside and poison me. The one I would die a hundred times to gain one life for.

Like the seasons bring changes in the trees that stand tall,
I meet sorrow and gloom whenever I fall,
Like the tree with lush green leaves once, loses them in the fall,
I lose my hopes and dreams whenever I fall,
Like the tree rids itself of rotten leaves till it loses them all,
I keep shedding tears till I'm left with none at all.

Like spring brings happiness back to the tree,
I'm brought to life by an invisible mystery,
Like water is to wilting plant in the nursery,
Faith is my elixir, my remedy,
How shall I send my thanks card to Him,
He lives so far away yet can't be found except within.

 The World

This is the world I'm living in,

Where everyone is cold as ice,

With no pain for others in heart,

Hearts are like oceans of sins,

And people are just drowning in.

This is the world I'm living in.

Where the poor live worse than pets,

Where everyone is bagging wealth,

And have nothing to give for no interest.

This is the world I'm living in.

You know the one, close to your heart?

You think him to be but he is not,

With whom you talk the whole day,

Is just with you for his own sake.

This is the world I'm living in.

Where snatching,grabbing is everything,

And flirting is a common thing,

The faces you wear, like elephant's teeth,

What you show is different from what you feel.

This is the world I'm living in.

I feel like a dainty fish in the sea,

Ready to be eaten by another being,

Or to be crushed by hostile water waves,

Be drowned forever as never had to remain.

This is the world I'm living in,

God am I eligible to live in it?

I feel the air running dry,
My heart weeps but I don't cry,
With every breath I take, I wish I die,
To my self why do I always tell lies?
Maybe it's the world of lies that I like,
Or it's the pang of my soul that I hide,
I created walls around my mind,
Not to let any reality dwell inside,
But the walls are too weak to survive,
All the realities break into my mind,
Crushing my heart, thrashing my mind.

She was strolling past the snow carrying pines when the wind of reminiscence started blowing in her mind. The wind started retrieving the memories she had always kept safe in her conscious which had started lingering in her sub-conscious too, by then. Each so vivid and clear that she could almost live them again whenever she recalled'em. They had the same impact on her as they had had, years ago. She couldn't help drowning in the ocean of those memories, losing herself and feeling helpless while her vision got blurred for a moment and she danced joyously in the other. As she rambled past the streets she could see eyes peering at her, faces bearing smiles. She suddenly started feeling diffident. A wave of quiver shook her awake and she returned to their world. She could see those smiles mutating and appearing as sneers to her. She used to ask people about the people who none knew existed, about incidents that had never happened. "She is a maniac", this is what everyone said about her. She used to keep herself engrossed in the world of her own, in her world of hallucinations, with people only she knew, making and living in the stories of her own, ever since she lost her family in a car accident. 

This is going to be my first post so I'll start it with my introduction.

I'm a girl from Islamabad, Pakistan, nineteen years old. I'm an engineering student at COMSATS. I live here with my family of four members, including me.

I'm fond of reading books and novels. I'm always playing with words in my head and I love to write but that doesn't make me a writer.

I'm a pretty sentimental kind of person but verbally inarticulate so I chose to express myself through writing, some eight years ago. I like to write out my feelings in a twisted and unrecognizable form.

Besides this I love to cook, bake, paint, sing, play, drive, travel and do adventurous things.
I'm totally a family-oriented kind of person, I love my family more than anything else in the world. I don't really trust people too easily or get attached to them but when I do, I do it like none else would do!
I certainly can't survive without reading. studying and learning no matter how hectic or hard it is.
So this is a very little part of my story, my life, me.