Tales of the Unheard

Source: Painting by Mary Maxam on DailyPainters.com It was one of those days when the body seems to have lost all its energy, no longer willing to make simple movements like standing, sitting or doing anything at all. It just lays there…. lifeless yet full of life. I sat there as still as water and as silent as a night, staring at the ceiling, lost in my own thoughts. My head ached thinking there was still so much to do… a long list of never ending work that had to be completed by this apparently lifeless body. Ahhh!! It had been a long tiring week, shifting a home is exhausting for both, the soul and the flesh. From planning on packing, wrapping the whole house, moving to a new place to settling in… a task that literally drains all your energies in every way possible. It was the same for me… shifting to a new place in all the hustle bustle was beyond exhausting. The process of moving is kind of like the start of a new life; you look forward to your future yet feel ...

Continued..... I now wonder what was picture perfect about our life… how was it that our wretched lives seemed so perfect to me and why? I learned it a little too late… it was all the slightest details you’ve read above that made my life seem beautiful to you and me on the outside, but the inside was just as ugly and dreadful. My family, my home .. a blissful masquerade that was a piece of heaven on earth for me soon turned out to be a gateway to hell. Life sure was difficult and every single day was nothing but hard work, another shot at survival. We lived some really hard times all these years with blindfolds. We were fooled by the beauty of the outside colors to the extent that we ignored how black and white our lives were from the inside. I had turned fourteen years old, crossed my childhood/playful years and entered my teens working as a shepherd, seeing nothing but poverty, hunger, struggle and a constant desire to at least live a day of our miserable lives tha...

Continued..... Home is a feeling, an emotion and a blessing in disguise …..   It was all that I knew and believed during my early years. For this little space/ our house built with only four mud walls and a leaking roof was the world to me, a magical world that kept me shielded from the dark and ugly realities of the human race. We lived in a small village in Sharak Pur (Punjab) where living surely was difficult but life… life seemed quite simple. I often stared at buildings and houses/homes ... lost in their charm, observing how each and every brick played an important part (role) in holding such mighty structures together. In my own little imagination my family was our home, where the twelve of us (9 sisters & 3 brothers) were the bricks and our parents the main foundation. You know it’s funny that such a feeling as home and a family could turn every bit of darkness into light. I loved every little thing about our small, wrecked and empty house,...

Dear Life,                It has been a while since I’ve had the time to reflect on you. For you have left me and travelled afar in haste with time as your companion. I lay here abandoned, adrift in my past and present, awaiting nothing but death. In these moments my friend, I often reminisce about our journey together through time and till the end. Well hello there life… my old friend!   I assume you have long forgotten about my insignificant existence, but I …. I am trapped in the memories of our bond that encompasses over seven decades, a lifetime that we have journeyed though, from nothing to being everything but in unison. Alas, our bond has now reached its end and I stand here all alone, full of despair and hopelessness yet empty-handed. My dear friend, I still remember how we formed our connection for the very first time when my flesh and bones were touched by my soul, the day I was ...

Continued... But this time it was different... finally that afternoon she spoke and she let it all out, her tears as well as her heart! “ I have been working here since the last two months, listening, taking in and absorbing all the taunts and insults other helpers or any of my employers made... I know well that I am incompetent, snail paced and not up to your mark for any work that I do but I am trying.... learning. I never had a mother to teach me to do all the little things that mean so much in our daily lives. Yes, I was raised by my aunt and grandmother who fed and treated me well apparently... ..” I stood there in silence listening to her with a blank expression as she went on.... “ No my grandmother didn’t teach me how to dress, talk, sit, walk or do anything that would make me worthy or of any value to me or any other person.” “ I was only a few weeks old when my mother passed away and since then fate has never been favorable to me. My own family, my grandmother an...

Destiny .... I often wonder what it means. A word that holds only seven letters but means so much more. It’s funny how a few letters enfold such deep philosophies of life and death within them. But it still remains a conundrum ... a riddle ... a question of what really is our fate? What and where are we destined to be? Tears flowed down from her beautiful black bright eyes ... dimming the usual glow on her face. She pretended to wipe away all her pain, sorrow and sufferings that her tears reflected. It was the same every time she was scolded, never ever uttering a single word rather just listening and nodding her head to every taunt and insult directed towards her. She seemed to absorb every single word and let it all out in tears, for they were the only companions of her life full of doubts and misery. Shazia, a fourteen year old bread earner who knew nothing about work or life.... a domestic worker who hardly ever had a home or a family to learn from and live with, or to...

LIFE…. So unpredictable, meaningless and unfair! Is it? Or is it the mind that thinks this, the soul that feeds on such thoughts or the body that functions with such negativity? Huh! So many questions that are so clear yet create thousands of uncertainties. We often read or hear stories about renowned people, read about their personalities and admire their beauty, and idealizing them at a certain point of time in our lives. But the question is why do we only obsess over the known and tend to ignore the hardworking ‘hands’ that remain unheard while being heard by the world. It is funny how we always stay oblivious to the existence of such beings that bring about sound changes and impacts in our lives by doing something which we often belittle. Confused?????? Today, you’ll be reading a story, a tale about one of these working hands that to date remain invisible to the majority of us. Now you must be thinking…. I’ll put a name and introduce a person but no...

Continued... Tree : “ Tell me merchant, why does it seem that all life has been drained out of your body? What makes you so disappointed in life?” “My whole life”… I was born in 1955 in Peshawar. Coming from a family of merchants and clothiers, business was in our blood and we shared a fairly good reputation in the markets of the ‘City of Men’. My youth is full of good memories but as I grew older our fates turned on us. Times had changed; our country was facing political challenges and socio-economic issues, falling into despair day by day. And the same cloud of despair was upon our business now. Everything fell; our family shop was sold after my father got sick and left us in a great debt. Since we were unable to return the debt, our reputation in the market was lost. There was nothing left for us in our own city so we finally decided to migrate to Lahore. With my mother, wife and children, moving to a new city seemed like a big challenge especially being a pathan in ...