patronus

Books. October. Moon. socks. Prayer mats. Pasta. Mountains. Fairy meadows. Rain. Poetry. Purple. Winter evenings. Comfortable shoes. Songs with relatable lyrics. Jhumkay. Androon Lahore. Stars. Twilight. Sunsets. Beaches. Libraries. Kindness. Swings. Bachpan. Hot chocolate. Shams. Poems. Grey. Eid. Fairy lights. Silence. Orange juice. Grandparents. Plants. More books. Early Mornings. Surah Noor Ayat 32. Cooking. Orange skies. Faiz. Wooden doors. Strawberry and Banana shakes. Yellow. Art. Sukoon.  Summers. Closures. Hand Bruises. Bad Footwear. Paper cuts. Financial instability. Nausea. Controlling People. Commitments. Snapchat. Untidy kitchens. Helplessness.  Taurus. July. Channy ki daal. Virgos. Politics. Mysoginy. Expectations. Karaily. No socks. Mangoes. Gatherings. A lot of people. People. Other People. Jealousy. Anxiety. Autism. No windows. Mansehra. Missing Prayers. Waking up late. Ironing clothes. Big busy cities. Privilege. Heartbreak. Life. My life. 

POV: you go for eid shopping but end up spending the amount equal to a limelight shirt on an Emily Bronte classic. You come back home after a very exhausting day, not like a 9am to 5pm uni exhausting day but a real-life exhausting day. You change into comfy clothes. It's raining. Ammi makes pakory which are terribly spicy, so much so that abba has to eat them with yogurt but you eat them without yogurt anyway to make sure amma doesn't feel bad You remove the nail paint from your toes and sit cross-legged on the sofa to narrate the entire day's story to amma before writing some of it in a blog.  Life is good. 

 You know when you're travelling and you have to look for hotels at the end of the day or whenever you travel to a new city in case you're out for more than a couple of days or weeks and no matter how comfortable the room is or how pretty the view is, you still miss your home. Home. Feel this word, its aroma and warmth, no matter how exhausting it gets, its still your home, a place you're sure about, a place you can go back to no matter what. home. a place you know will always be there for you.  I always thought it to be very cliché when people made homes out of other people.  "this person is my home" nausea.  "my home is that person" nausea. But today, on a motorway between two unknown cities, i needed a person i could call my home, the thought was preceded by anger at first then some nausea of course, my go to emotion at things that are cliché, some sad hollow feeling and finally some heartache. So I ran through the list of the people who could qualify...

When I was in the middle of the semester, drowning in work, I used to think that I will write daily when the semester will end. lol. Today I realized that I almost always come here either to rant or vent, which is obviously not bad but we can try and change the narrative right? A friend called today when I was about to make Rotis for the dinner. I put her up on the speaker and went to the kitchen. I turned on my camera to show her how the noodles packet is getting smaller day by day and then we didn't turn off our cameras until I settled the table for dinner. I got off the phone and later thought about I was to have friends that I don't have to pretend in front of. I don't have to pay heed to how I am looking, what I am wearing, or if the kitchen is messed up. a blessing indeed, to have real people around you!

I went to your second home on the last day of June. I don't know why I am referring to that place as your second home but I think thats how humans are, we tend to make everything dramatic and slightly sad or maybe I am like this. khair. It is so pretty, so peaceful I can't even begin to explain. You know I always thought my city was the most peaceful place to live but that's where I want to live ab bas. So I figured out a few things there. I have completely gotten over you because that place, those roads, and trees didn't remind me of you, although I have always associated that vicinity with you but today I feel like I superimposed some new goals and some new memories on those old associations.  I overheard two ladies at the cafe (I didn't mean to, I was just passing by with my order, they had self-service there, makes sense right?) so I heard them talk about male to female officers ratio and stuff and I saw people running for a better version and better future for ...

I know I have mild commitment and trust issues and honestly, I have always looked at them as my shield but today I realized that I cant survive in the vicinity of controlling people as well and believe me so many things started to make sense. My suffering relationship with some of my family members and a few friends despite the constant effort by the two of us. I realized it was because they were controlling. Unconsciously, they want me to be the way they want good people to be, their standards of what is right as if I sort of belong to them. I understand that when you are close to someone, they have the right to tell you what's right and what's wrong but they don't get to blame you if you decide not to take their advice or do things that look right to you only.  I was constantly looking for the fault in myself, trying to be more and more accepting of the differences I had with those people in an attempt to save those relationships and it was making things worse. You know ...

I don't want to be with you but I want you to be around like before. Everything comes down to you eventually. My mind, when wanders, always rests at the couch of your memories, your comfort. I know you're bad for me but then that one irrational part of me still wants you and I randomly asked one of my friends this and she said this is what being toxic is. and I do not know. I wish the part of you I hate, never existed or the part of me that wants you ceases to exist.