musaafir-e dasht

... there is a great surge of emotions, feelings, thoughts, ideas and what not, that I want to write down. However, the intensity of this is so great that I am unable to write anything at all. I do not know if it happens with others too. But it is definitely happening to me, at the moment.

In the name of Allah, Most Merciful and Compassionate Becoming Muslim © Nuh Ha Mim Keller Born in 1954 in the farm country of the northwestern United States , I was raised in a religious family as a Roman Catholic. The Church provided a spiritual world that was unquestionable in my childhood, if anything more real than the physical world around me, but as I grew older, and especially after I entered a Catholic university and read more, my relation to the religion became increasingly called into question, in belief and practice. One reason was the frequent changes in Catholic liturgy and ritual that occurred in the wake of the Second Vatican Council of 1963, suggesting to laymen that the Church had no firm standards. To one another, the clergy spoke about flexibility and liturgical relevance, but to ordinary Catholics they seemed to be groping in the dark. God does not ch...

And we could not believe that KU would ever look this beautiful :)

January 20, 2009 I took my first class as a 'co-operative teacher' at the department in the evening today. I feel so lost at the moment! I can feel the responsibility weighing down on my shoulders. No, I am not really scared of teaching or communicating. I am scared of myself. It is not easy. Seriously. "Jaayen kahan abb aur, yahan tak tou aagaye..."

Karachi is weird. Seriously. I mean we were waiting for real winters and it is the rain that came. Right now while typing these words, I can actually smell rain through the window mesh that is right in front of me. Just spoke to one of the dearest friends a while ago and I can feel indecisiveness on my pulses. Literature. Linguistics. Everything suddenly seems messed up. However, I am quite hopeful that things will settle in with the passage of time. Linguistics, after Literature appears funny for I don't know what reason. Although today after speaking to Mrs. K, I felt encouraged and I told this to her as well. Yet, I feel apprehensive. Why? I don't know. So I am leaving everything up to Allah and let's see what happens... And the funny part in this post is the weird connections: Rain. Literature. Linguistics. Encouragement. Hope. Apprehensions. I.

... that haunt!

I have been trying to post something on my blog since quite a number of days now. Every time I sign in, I just keep on staring blankly at the screen and then silently sign out. I cannot write. I am trying hard but I still cannot. No, it is definitely not writer's block. I had and I still have so many things on my mind that I wanted and still want to write about but everything now seems to lose its importance. I write. I erase. I write again. I erase again, because one question that keeps on striking my mind is this: 'They words I write, what are they worth for?' And I, have no answer... I feel I am a spectator. A silent spectator, who has no role to play in the drama that is being staged before him/her... ... And yet I know, it is not the case. It is just that pain and helplessness cannot be written in words... Hum dekhain ge Laazim hai ke hum bhi dekhain ge...