As the sun rays are hitting the rocky ground, which used to be a garden full of grass is now a rocky path full of pebbles and stones. Where, little Inaya and Hadiya, 4 year old twins, are running around  giggling while playing hide and seek, unbeknownst to their surroundings. 

A sudden frightened call from their mama draws their attention and they run inside their home hastily. ” Inaya, Hadiya, how many times have I told you that it’s not safe to play outside anymore?, play inside please”, their mother says. The young girls suddenly ashamed from the scolding, apologized and ran inside their room. Just by gazing at their favorite pink blanket tucked in the corner, they ran to it hurriedly and hugged it tightly as it was their saviour, their faces brightening up with a beautiful smile while embracing it lovingly, and just like that all was forgotten and they started their play again. 

They loved to sleep in their own room with their favourite pink blanket. But, since few days, Mama and Baba has been acting weirdly. They could sense something is wrong. They were not allowed to play outside like they used to. They were not allowed to visit or play with their friends. They couldn’t go outside freely like before and most of all they could see they didn’t have much to eat or drink. Still, Mama and Baba made sure they had full stomach as now they would give their own share to the girls.  And they could see how it’s affecting their health as they are getting weaker. But, they can’t figure out what is wrong. Now, Mama and Baba don’t talk much like they used to.  Baba doesn’t gaze lovingly at Mama anymore. They don’t have those special moments that they had and, don’t play with them anymore. They have this gloomy expressions on their faces all the time and they look like they are just surviving or getting by. Just for the sake of us. They refuse to let us sleep in our room alone, so we sleep with Mama Baba in their room. But, we agreed on one condition that pink blanket will come with us too. So we tightly hug our blanket and sleep besides each other. 

It’s pitch dark outside and in the middle of the night ‘BOOM’ ‘BOOM’  a rocket strikes a home where these little angels were sleeping cuddled up beside their parents, their safest haven, along with all the houses nearby in the same vicinity. 

A large deafening sound  of this catastrophe can be heard miles aways. 

Sudden blast shaking and waking up Inaya and everyone around her. She couldn’t see anything as their is pitch dark where ever she looks and there is debris every where. The frightened lost little girl tries to call out her parents, her sister but can’t voice out any words as debris comes out of her mouth. She can’t move her hands or legs as her body is stuck under a large rock. She can hear the wailing sounds of her mother from the distance calling out for help. Calling out her girls, calling their names, praying for them to be alright. But, she can’t respond, it’s like she has lost her voice along with her vision but still, clutching her pink blanket, and slowly, she’s losing her consciousness, feeling her soul leaving her body. Far away from this cruel place. Far away from this brutality. In a land where she’ll always be safe and play however much she wants to. 

That night they found four bodies stuck under the rubble. A wife , a husband, and their two beautiful angels. As they wrap the bodies of Inaya and Hadiya inside a pink blanket they found close by unbeknownst to them that that’s all they wanted. Their safe haven around them. 

Ramazan is a ratings gold mine for channels as fewer people venture out after a long day of fasting, yet the quality of broadcasting seems to be a race to the bottom. It is a huge missed opportunity, one which could so easily be used to educate, inform as well as entertain audiences.

Ramazan – which was once known as the month of restraint, tolerance, patience and charity – has now become a season for the profit seeking television enterprises to sell religion in the name of Ramazan to get high ratings and make good money.

The problem with television broadcasting in Pakistan is that everything is plentiful, be it news channels, Ramazan transmissions or game shows on them. In this proliferation of such transmissions, the least attention is given to the script that can actually make a difference. Here the hosts of the shows are only required to have enough charisma and be enough impudent to look good on the screen. It doesn’t matter if they know something about the subject or not.

This problem is also solved as recently, The Islamabad High Court (IHC) on May 9th, 2018 declared that not actors, cricketers or models but PhD scholars should talk about religion on TV channels.

What do all these programs say about our values, our attitudes? Inciting religious violence, the complete lack of tolerance, the display of arrogance, hypocrisy and materialism; is that the spirit of this sacred month?

Lost in all this cheap sensationalism is the essence of this month of self-discipline and self-denial.So who is to blame? Who rewards these people despite their inappropriate behaviour?

The sad truth is, it’s the audience. It’s easy enough to turn the tide against such behaviour, instead of laughing at their lack of manners and railing against these crude displays why not use the power of the remote?

In a month geared towards maximizing worship, how about opening up discussions on tolerance and learning how to deal with religious issues without extreme or violent responses?

There are plenty of well educated, charismatic and well-spoken religious scholars both in Pakistan and in the Pakistani diaspora throughout the world who could lend this season’s programming some much needed depth and gravity but are being ignored in favour of celebrities.

How wonderful it would be if these TV shows could highlight and reward the youth and leaders engaged in projects that lift up society and raise awareness about issues like domestic violence and mental health.

While there is nothing wrong with giving away grand prizes and having fun, the focus on winning at any cost seems to be pushing important issues and the less fortunate amongst us, already marginalized by society, even further back in to the shadows.

Being the reason for that big smile on your loved ones face is special to me.
Gazing at the sparkling stars while reminiscing all those happy moments is special to me.
Those rare moments of being able to read alone while grazing those crisp pages, sniffing that oh so wonderful fragrance of them
While, trying to decipher the hidden mysteries inside and, losing myself in the depths of it. Immersing yourself in that entirely different world is special me.

Few things special to me.

What is special to you?

As the sunlight enters my room through the window, I hide my face with the pillow and start groaning by thinking about the same boring routine ahead. I finally wake up after much protest and perform the same ritual of showering, brushing teeth, getting ready having breakfast and heading to school. I cringe by even thinking about what is awaiting me at school like always. The same insults, curses, beatings by others because I am fat and I deserve this treatment I guess cuz I really am ugly. I can see myself in the side mirror of a car. A girl with the rough curly brown hair, wearing an oversized shirt to hide all those scars and beatings along with all that fat. All in all, an unattractive hideous girl of 17 is staring back at me.

I sometimes wonder what’s the purpose of my existence? why am I even living? Do I even deserve this treatment? All those curses and looks? why? Even my family is ashamed of me. So why am I even breathing? Because the only thing a person wants is, to be loved! That’s all. To be loved, by everyone or anyone. Just this want, to be loved, makes us want to live, to breath, to smile and most of all, this allows us to love ourselves and others.

This, being loved is the catalyst that breaths life into our souls or slowly and gradually takes it away from our souls. So, it makes it or breaks it.

Little by little, this catalyst surely is taking life away from me, day by day it’s waining, I can feel it. How I no longer feel the need to laugh, smile, talk and most of all it’s at the end. You know it’s the end, when you no longer want to love anyone and it surely is at last stage, when you stop loving yourself!

The moment this catalyst takes all the energy away from your soul, you no longer want to breath or even live. You’re just merely existing with outer layer breathing but totally dead from inside, just like me. And there comes a time when you want to end this also. End all of this. So that people around you will no longer feel ashamed, atleast you’ll be doing a favour to them by not existing.

But then, one morning this incident happened and it changed it all.Changed my entire life, for good.

One day as I was walking home from school.I saw a feet away on the road side, two childrens one boy and girl of 10 and 6 respectively. Their appearance unkempt with dirty clothes on and begging from strangers for money. As they saw an ice-cream stand a little far from them they ran at it. As they both stared at the icecream like it’s the only secret to their happiness. The boy started counting the few coins he had and bought one icecream since he didn’t have money to buy two and gave it to the little girl. After watching the whole scene, I went to them and bought one icecream and gave it to the boy and after that what happened, it changed my life. The boy and girl hugged me and said thankyou with this big goofy smiles and their faces gleaming with happines. I felt at that moment, the feeling of being loved by someone even for a moment. I was the reason for adding fuel to someones catalyst. They felt, they were being loved by someone, they felt hopeful just by this small gesture of mine.

After that I knew I was always looking at it the wrong way all along. I knew my catalyst was taking my life away and now I know how to bring it all back. Why not add the fuel to my catalyst by loving others? Why not give it to those who really need it, want it, whose catalysts are also taking their lives little by little. So why not add a fuel to their catalyst? You just have to look around, truly look around to find all those people. Believe me, there are many we just have to look. And you never know, by doing that your fuel might start increasing day by day and you’ll start loving yourself, and everyone will surely start loving you. Well , they always have, you were just looking it the wrong way.

So, let’s add fuel to everyone’s catalysts! Love others, you’ll automatically start loving yourself!! Life is beautiful, it’s just how you look at it!!

As I gaze up at the beautiful picturesque of stars glowing in the dark sky and wonder how can stagnation be so beautiful. Those dead bright stars in the sky are more alive than I’ll ever be. The stars eyes fixated at the pure souls, souls who are watching them and wondering how can something dead be so gorgeously amazing, speaking the unspoken truth of the unseen.

I can see, it’s the pitch black surrounding them that makes them glitter. The darker it is, the brighter it let those stars sparkle like a diamond.

The black is sacrificing the beauty of itself letting others shine, oh how more perfect can you be?

As I look around at the pure white glistening souls. The black scars on it are more prominent to the others, as they’re glancing at it and grimacing at it’s ugliness. But those black scars are the sole reason of enhancing the beauty of that soul. Those scars are the reason everyone can see the pure parts of the soul and making it glisten more, showing how perfect it is.

Those scars are revealing the untold stories of all the hardships and sacrifices it went through and still stood its ground hence, exhibiting the bravery of the soul. Scars are the actual reason making it more human, as perfect humans are, filled with scars of battles they went through.

You are still sacrificing your beauty to make others beautiful, oh how more perfect can you be?

As the whole world is filled with indefinite colors making it a marvelous place to live in. Every single color is full of liveliness and happiness to the people gazing at it, making them joyful and alive except black. Black is the colour of death, fear, infinity, loneliness, abandonment, scars, gloominess, hollowness. This is how everyone looks at you.But I can see the real you.

How every colour is beautiful from outside just like us humans, as we tend to show our qualities and good sides and hiding our dark true faces inside.

We humans are just like these colors of infinite ranges.

I can see the real you, black. How you are filled inside with infinite bright colours of every range making you awestruck-ingly gorgeous beyond imagination. But you still hide it inside you just showing the darkness on outside. You are opposite to us human.We try to hide our dark secrets inside us but, you show it upfront and conceal your beauteousness inside.

Just to make others sparkle you sacrifice yourself, oh how more perfect can you be?

Before you judge my life, my past or my character… Walk in my shoes, walk the path I have traveled, live my sorrow, my doubts, my fear, my pain and my laughter.. Remember, everyone has a story. When you’ve lived my life then you can judge me…!!! And this is what being empathetic means.

I still remeber how we all used to make a gang and rule all over school and always had each others back. How others would look at us through jeaolusy that we always were together and no one would dare separate us.

From those foolish card games to playing teacher teacher and buying the chalk and duster through our weeks pocket money. How we used to fake play, of traveling to different countries and bringing along gifts for eveyone in return. I still remeber those days when no one could weaken our bond because we all were together beacuse had a special bond. To the people we were just cousins, but to each other we all were more than that.

Now as I am looking at those days, I am trying to find where was the loop hole when we lost each other?, how did the bond weaken? But I couldn’t find the answers.Is it bacause we all are mature now and those were just childish promises? and we are now past those pahses, or is it because our prorities are different now and we aren’t satisfied with what we have and we want more, or else the real reason is that the bond was never there it was all fake just to past that phase faking all those plays, happiness and joys we all shared together it was all fake.

Now not only have I lost all of you even the one who I thought would always understand me, doesn’t. Sister, I thought our bond was the strongest among every other bond. We didn’t have to speak and just through a look we would understand each other. What happened to us? They say eyes are the gate to the persons soul so can’t you see the pain, suffering I’m going through everyday? Can’t you see just by looking at me what I’m going through?. I guess I was wrong all along. No one understands you on your toughest times. You just have yourself and no one else. So, in the end we all have to fight our batlles alone no one would come to rescue us. Fight your own battles yourself and show them what you’ve got. You don’t need anyone else. You’re okay on your own.

Fight your battles yourself.

Sometimes, the most powerful revolutions don’t begin in the streets. They begin in the heart. This is the story of a 13-year-old boy, a bag full of discarded books, and the man who chose not to walk past him.

Introduction:

Sometimes, the most powerful revolutions don’t begin in the streets.
They begin in the heart.
This is the story of a 13-year-old boy, a bag full of discarded books, and the man who chose not to walk past him.

A Reflection in the Mirror

The golden rays of the sun were playing hide and seek with the clouds, painting a stunning picture in the sky. I stood beside a parked car, staring at my reflection in its side mirror.

Staring back at me was a 13-year-old boy — in torn, dirty clothes, with dust on his face and weariness in his eyes. I sighed and walked toward the roadside garbage heap, ready to begin my daily routine: picking through the trash, searching for anything that could earn a little money.

Wrappers, broken items, dry paper, and — if I was lucky — something valuable.

The Book in a Backpack

As I worked, the sound of two boys laughing reached me. I turned and saw them walking to school in crisp uniforms, backpacks on their shoulders, books in their hands. One of those books caught my eye.

To them, it might have just been a textbook.
But to me, it was a portal to another universe — a chance to travel through space, time, and ideas without leaving my place.

But how could I do that… when I couldn’t even read?

A Secret Treasure

I used to find books in the trash sometimes. Torn, dusty, and forgotten. But to me, they were treasures. I would hide them — in secret places my father wouldn’t find — because if he did, he’d sell them for a few extra rupees to buy us food.

To me, those books were everything. They were hope.

But that’s all they could be. A wish.
Because no one had ever offered to teach me. And I had no way to learn.
I was just a garbage picker. Who would care?

Then Came the Question

One day, everything changed.

While I was sorting trash, a young man — around 25 — came up to me. At first, I was afraid. He asked my name. I didn’t reply.

Then he asked a simple question:
“Would you like to study?”

And without thinking, without hesitation, I said yes.
Tears rolled down my face. My heart knew before my mind did — this was the moment I had been waiting for.

My Angel in Disguise

From that day on, we met every afternoon for two hours. He became my teacher, my mentor, my guide.

He didn’t just teach me how to read and write.
He taught me how to see — not just what’s in front of me, but what lies beyond the surface.
He taught me how to think — to question, to understand, to explore truth behind appearances.
He helped me find my soul, which had been playing hide and seek in a world too harsh for children like me.

I was one of the lucky few who got a second chance.
And all I kept asking myself was: Why?
Why was he doing this?

A Silent Revolution

One day, I finally asked him.

He smiled and said,

“I’m not alone. We are a group of 30 friends who started this together. We were tired of blaming the system, the government, and everything else. One day, we realized the real problem was within us — in our silence, our inaction.

So we decided to take responsibility. Instead of talking, we started doing. At first, there were just five of us. Now we are thirty — each of us teaching someone in need. And someday, the people we teach will go on to teach others. That’s how change happens — quietly, deeply, from one heart to another.”

I was moved beyond words.

A Promise

That day, I made a promise to myself:
One day, I will be like him. I will carry this gift forward.
I will find someone else who feels invisible — and help them see themselves again.

Because this isn’t just charity.
It’s a movement.
A peaceful protest against helplessness.
A revolution of action — by those who refuse to wait for permission to change the world.

Final Words

This story isn’t just about me.
It’s about anyone who’s ever felt lost… and anyone who’s ever had the courage to reach out and help.

If you’re reading this, maybe you are someone who can be a part of such change — no grand gestures, just small acts of silent rebellion against indifference.

Because sometimes, all it takes is one person…
To ask one question…
That changes everything.

“Would you like to study?”

His hands are trembling as he is holding the baby of 5 days with difficulty but making sure not to drop the baby as he moves forward dragging his feet against the rough surface on the sidewalk making sure to hide the baby inside the cloth draped on him so no one could see what he is holding on his hands on 3 am at night. He could hear the sound of dogs barking far away and shadows of junkies as he tries to pass by them quietly and head towards his destination.

The tears are streaming down his face as he’s trying to control the sob that’s trying to break through his body but couldn’t stop himself as he sobs trying to muffle the sounds so the few shadows lurking in the dark at the corner of street couldn’t hear or detect him.He finally reaches there and could see the wooden cot beside the closed door of the orphanage.

He can still remember that day just 5 days ago now it’s like it’s been years since then, the day where his beautiful wife died giving birth to her daughter, she died because of him she was too weak at that time and because he couldn’t provide her proper meals a day just because he was unable to take care of her. It’s his fault that her wife died and after that left this beautiful angel all to himself to take care of. It was difficult to come out of that grief but he has come to his senses to take care of the only thing left behind of her wife, his daughter. As days passed he still couldn’t make money out of the multiple jobs he does from polishing shoes of others to lifting heavy carts he still couldn’t make much to buy those costly powder milk for her daughter and as he has to go for job he has to take her with him because it was too risky to leave her behind but the baby couldn’t stop crying because the only meal she got was cereal and water lots of water to drink but what she wanted was her mother so she couldn’t stop crying since days. He knew he can’t take care of her like this, he has to let her go she deserves much better life than this, a better future,a mother. He didn’t want to do this but he knows he has to for her, for her wife, he can’t lose her like he lost his wife.He weeps and sobs loudly because he’ll always be a monster to her daughter which he never wanted her to remember him like that.

Present.

His hands tremble while doing this horrendous thing to his own daughter but he knows he has to do this it’s the only choice he has.He knows it’s time to say goodbye as tears are streaming down his face as he showers her 5 days old daughter with kisses and holds her for dear life and remember or even engrave his mind from this feeling of holding his angel for one last time as he has to let go her now for forever, for her, for her future as she deserves better, better than she has now and puts her gently into the and cot and drapes a blanket on her with one last kiss on her forehead and walks away not looking behind as he knows he won’t be able to stop himself from breaking down. He walks away forgetting that the innocent baby needs nothing in this world more than her father’s love that that’s the only thing she’ll need to survive more than anything, nothing less nothing more and now this innocent life will live her life never knowing the real story of herself of her loving father and mother and will always live hating both of them because it’s them who made her an Orphan.

I watch my friends sitting on the corner table laughing at something the other one said and it also makes me smile, as they are enjoying their lunch. I forcefully push the wheels of the chair forward so I can reach their table with the lunch tray on my lap.On the way there I can see other students gazing at my 17 year old self as I walk by them, the expression that I hate the most in this world is clearly evident on their faces, pity.Pity for the girl who isn’t normal like them, the one who was perfectly fine few days before,one who could walk,run and do all the work normal people do. I was always a bubbly and happy girl before this accident a few days ago where I was walking on the street and a fast blur came suddenly which was the car with the drunk driver and hit me so hard that when I opened my eyes at the hospital for the first time it was tye most horrific feeling for me,I tried I really tried to feel something on my lower region but I couldn’t, I couldn’t move, I couldn’t even twich a finger on my legs then I came to know that I can’t stand anymore on my two feet for the rest of my life, I can’t run anymore and that was the most pathetic and helpless feeling I felt for myself,I wish and pray that no one, no one should ever go through that feeling again, I wish. It’s been few days since then and I am back in school and still am the happy and bubbly girl because no one can take my happiness away from me. But that feeling is decreasing day by day, the feeling of hope and happiness that everything will be alright, with their gazes which holds pity for me. As days passed the same people who were in my class, the same epeole who were in my school and were my friends started taking advantage of my helpless state and their expressions turned to loathing and they started bullying me just beacuse I couldn’t walk. But I didn’t tell my best friends,my family about it because I didn’t want to show this helpless side of me, I wanted to show everyone I am still the happy bubbly girl.

The day when they pushed me to my utmost limit that day I couldn’t take it anymore, the day when I beacme the source of entertainment for them when they left me in the middle of the forest just tor their fun and I was laying there helpless without my wheelchair without any support while insects were crawling above me and I lay there helpless shouting for help but no one came. My friends found me after four hours but I wasn’t the same like before.

That day something died inside me,something inside my soul, the cause of that was people around me they killed it, the first part of my soul, tye society killed the first part of my soul.

There are still two lives left of my soul so my soul is still alive,I still have my family with me and most importantly I have my self with me. so I haven’t lost hope.Society might have kilked a part of my soul but I still have hope my family and I myslef will not kill the other parts, I won’t let my soul die just like that because I am a fighter.

I believe that a soul has three lives, one life depends on society, the second life depends on family and close friends and the last life of soul depends on the person itself.

One part dies when society fails it, the seconf part dies when the family fails it but the most important and last string which is holding the persons soul from dying is when the person itself stops believing in himself or herself than that is the day that perosn dies from inside,t he person who becomes blind to the unjust happening in front of his eyes nd walks away just like that because society did the same to that person,society killed that part of the person’s soul. Finally, the soul is dead after it’s three essential part dies and that person becomes a soulless person.That person is alive in front of others but dead from inside.

​The beads of sweat is running down his face as the sun is glaring at his back but he continues on picking up cartons weighing like giant gorilla and puts them in the cart one by one until there isn’t any space left. He picks up with difficultly the heavy cart which weighs like 30 elephants are sitting on it instead of cartons  and moves forward with one only mission in mind, to reach the destination and unload the cart. He ignores the scorching heat of sun shining above his head and not letting it bother him or to get on his way of completing his task. The day comes to an end as his boss hands him the money, his hard work of the day and he heads home picking some fruits and a pair of shoes on his way with the little money he has, for his son as his previous pair got torn and worn out since he has been using it for four years. As he puts the first step inside home his lips stretch in to a brightest smile as he catches a glimpse of his son running towards him and pulls his son into a tight hug and tickles him as the kid couldn’t control the giggles and starts laughing hard. After an hour of their time together filled with their playing around and telling each other stories about their day he puts him off to bed and turn the lights off and can’t stop smiling as he sees his son hugging him tightly and not letting him go and that is all that makes him think how perfect his simple life is, he couldn’t wish for anything else because he has everything he has ever wished for, A happy and contented life: a perfect life.

A man fixes his tie as he walks out of his air conditioned office in to scorching hot sun and heads home in his expensive car. On the ride home he thinks about all the important work piled up for him tonight. He reaches home and quickly grabs something to eat before heading to the study room. While he is going through some papers he hears a knock on the door and asks the person to enter, his little 10 year old daughter heads inside and walks towards him, he asks, “honey, what’s the matter? I am busy right now” she says “daddy, see I a got star today on this drawing,the teacher said I am an artwist see daddy I am an artwist she says and starts jumping up and down” his headache starts building up with all the noise and tension of work so he says harshly, “ go to your mommy and show this to her,I have a lot of work to do” she stops jumping and frowns as all her happiness and joy is washed away and she tells him grumpily “ you are always busy daddy always, you never have time for us” and runs away after saying that. As he tries to sleep that night and thinks what went wrong? he has everything but still why isn’t his life perfect why?

We always look for perfect life in materialistic things the things which will bring happiness, that’s where we are wrong, the satisfaction and happiness comes from the simple and small thing in life , the small gestures, littles moments that’s where the true happiness lies, The secret of perfect life.