WHY SO JUDGE-Y?

Ever felt disgusted by a constant gaze? Ever got nervous by a thorough examination of your outfit? 

Ever walked in front of a group as they whisper something to each other and burst out a laughter? 

That feels bad.

So, she wears jeans with hijab? Come on. What’s the point of hijab?

So, his height is short? Well, say no more.

So, she has a solemn face all the time. God ain’t she aggressive?

So, she is fat, they are old-fashioned. Blah, blah.

One word, PATHETIC.

Hijab? Her business.

Too short? Don’t worry, he wasn’t gonna marry you anyway.

Too Aggressive? Who knows, she may bite.

Why, why, why? Why so judgmental?

Let me tell you why.

It’s human nature. But there are categories to that.

One is judging as in, first impression, second impression and all. But one is judging and criticizing and mocking, well if you lie in that category, your life sucks. Wait, if you even have one.

Why do people judge, ever wondered?

It's guilty conscience, it’s the bug inside you.

Admit or not, but it’s the complex inside you, be it inferiority or superiority, both mean the same.

Why do you need to judge others and not yourself?

Because you are too afraid to accept what you’ll find.

That disagreement you have with your soul, that dissatisfaction you have in your heart, that’s the reason you judge.

When you comment on someone, it's more for the sake of convincing yourself. Apparently it seems like gossip. But deep, deep inside, you are trying to convince your heart. You are trying to make yourself feel better about yourself.

You are trying to prove you’re better than them.

But the truth, truth is, you are worse.

Every time you make a judgment, your heart despises you more. You may not be able to see it, but it happens.

That cliché ‘’Don’t judge a book by its cover’’. That is just a cliché.

Covers attract, covers repel. It’s the cover that may lead you into a huge mess and it’s the cover that can keep you from discovering what’s beneath it. Something wonderful. 

After all, if they had judged the oyster by it shell, would they have ever discovered the pearl that resides within?

Judge yourself before you make a judgment on someone else. Your eye can tell a lie. Nothing is what it looks like. The sooner you realize that, the sooner there will be less misanthropes out there.

YES, I'M A SERIAL KILLER. PROBLEM?

Either you are the sad face or you have been afraid of the mad face. There is no in between.

If I put that in the dollar terms;

If I receive a coin for every time someone asked me why so sad or mad, I, probably, would have been the richest person alive.

"Why are you so sad?''

"Why are you always angry?''

''Dude, why so serious?''

''Do you ever smile?'' "Nah, never learnt how to''.

SERIOUSLY, not my fault my smile is invisible, at least, I think I'm smiling, and if it gives you the impression that I am gonna kill you, who knows, I might.

Oh, do I look arrogant? aggressive? egoistic? sad? mad? Well, yeah, it's printed on my face isn't it?

You do know that I bite. Right? And you also know I shoot people in the face because that's all written on my face. Just like its written on everyone's face what they feel and think?

Just because my angry face game is always on point, doesn't mean I am the culprit, it makes me the victim.

See, it’s not easy to convince someone that you are smiling when they can't see it on your face. But trust me, there is a smile, like really big one.

See, I am not sad or mad or serious, it’s just, my output comes a little messed up.

Let me settle this matter, once and for all;

It's the FACE, the EXPRESSIONS, it’s not my fault.

That ''READY TO KILL FACE''

Yep, I have it.

How do I convince people that I am not what I always seem? I am not the sad emoji. I am not serious 24/7. I am not about to cry, that's always gonna be there, I was naturally gifted with an ability to repel people, works like a charm for a misanthrope, though. And it’s probably useless to try explaining.

So why bother?

I look mad, whatever. I am mad, I am really aggressive. Yes, I am a serial killer, got a problem with that? Deal with it!

LOGIC? WHAT LOGIC?

''I am so fat'', she will say, over and over again, till you stop bothering to tell her that she's not. No matter how many times she says she will start a diet, she will NEVER do so.

When she says something bad about herself, she is looking for a compliment in return. Trust me, she will keep insisting but don't fall for it, it's a trap. Say the opposite or she'll hate you forever.

When a girl says may be, she may mean 'Yes', (but don't wanna sound too desperate), she may mean 'No' (but don't wanna sound too rude) or she may mean 'Maybe', you never know.

How to know that a woman is mad at you?

Simply, she may seem a little off, or she may seem totally usual. See? that easy.

Mood swings? No, just that, she might go from you're love to don't ever show me your face again. But you surely saw that coming, didn't you?

Winning is winning. After all, ''All is well that ends well'', she could go to any length to win the argument. See, an argument is all about consistency and the fact that how long could you go with throwing words at each other and hoping that they would make some sense. But then again, if it doesn't make any sense, who cares, the game is still on. The other side will probably drop.

When she says, she doesn't have anything to wear, don't tell her, her closet is full, take her shopping.

Women!

Don't ask her WHY? Because she is a girl, that's why.

If she hates you, it's possible she doesn't have any reason for that, she will just be like ''NO'' whenever you come around.

What do you mean 'it says that in dictionary' , a girl barely means what she says.

Logic? You bet!

You don't understand her? No worries, she doesn't either.

A woman's brain is like math, pointless with so many stupid problems.

You think being a girl is easy? Try having a mumbo jumbo combination of thousands of thoughts all day long, and try to stay NORMAL.

She doesn't forget because her memory is weak, she forgets because she's too pre-occupied at the moment.

You still think being a girl is easy? Try the experience of brushing or straightening long, long hair, or even try putting them in a ponytail. Experience the struggles of pulling the hair out. Or waking up with a monstrous little devious pimple on your face, just the day before a party, or a big event, EVERY SINGLE TIME. Or the battle of putting the eyeliner

equally on both sides. Or the fear that haunts you all month long when you grow out of your favorite outfit. Or denying constantly that you are jealous. It's not easy!

She may cry without a reason, or she may laugh at a really old joke, she might even over-react to something small. Whatsoever, she is still happy. With all the struggles of heart and battles of mind, she still flashes a smile, she walks around okay. Don't ask why, because she's a girl, that's why.

WHAT’S STOPPING YOU?

''I can undoubtedly say that I am caged by my body, but my mind is free and so is my soul and so is my spirit. I can still dream big, I can still think big, I can still aim high, I can still aspire to inspire''.

                                                                                                     -MUNIBA MAZARI

Imagine having an ability and losing it after being totally dependent on it. Every day we walk, at times, we run, we jump, and even if we are not doing anything, just sitting idle, we can move up and down, side by side. We don't have to worry about having no control over some piece of flesh of our own body.

Sometimes, when your doctor asks you to stay still, it annoys you after a while, because you want to move. For someone who can't, imagine the struggle they go through every day to bury the desire in the heart.

Not having an ability from the birth is unimaginable but losing it after having a taste of what it’s like, you need a lot more courage to move on. Waking up to blindness or immobility, nature has its own ways of testing people. For once try putting yourself in their shoes, it will give you goosebumps. And yet look at how ungrateful we are.

At the age of 21, she met an accident on her way from Baluchistan to her hometown, Rahim yar khan. her car fell into a deep ditch. People tried to help her and pulled her out while she was unconscious and due to their ignorance her spinal injury turned into the permanent paralysis of her lower limbs. But she doesn't complain because she hasn't done anything for the betterment of the area. she began a new life as she sat in the wheelchair for the first time, and she is winning hearts today. Not because she has a disability but because she has a strength. Her freedom of soul and spirit, her optimism. Muniba Mazari, the iron lady, has lived a new life, she hasn't let the limits of her body invade the limitlessness of her mind.

Now take a moment to think what we do? we fail once, we give up. We blame other things. we constantly complain. We ask for more. We are devastated if we lose something or fail to achieve something. We consider ourselves unable to do big. We, the thankless ungrateful creatures.

Someone's disability is not his/her inability. When God takes away something from you, he gives you something in return. When He closes one door, he opens another one for you. but it’s up to you, whether you keep sitting and mourning over the closed door, or seek your way through another. 

There is always another way, there is always another chance, another opportunity knocking at your door. There is always light ahead of darkness. There is always water in the desert, only you have to find it. A reason for every cause, a solution for every problem exists, you have to open your eyes to it.

People are making their ways through the unattended paths, the paths nobody knew existed. The paths no one thought will lead to destiny.

Turn your weakness into strength and you will find doors opening for you.

"Be grateful for what you have and trust me you will always end up having more.''

                                                                                               -MUNIBA MAZARI

                                                                                           

LIFE OF A STRESS HOARDER

There are people who have real problems, but they don't want to draw any attention to themselves. They deal with it themselves, quietly. And they do just fine in their life. Then there are people who ignore the problem staring right back in the face, until it goes away. Those are my favorite kind of people. Then there are people, who like to make an issue out of every thing. Those are the least favorite kind, or are competing for the spot
.
''Couldn't be worse''

''My life is a mess''

''Oh you don't know how much problems i have at the moment''

No, I don't but l do have a solution for you. Why don't you leave the planet, Please. GOD.

People are weird.

Part of human nature is that no one is ever satisfied with his life, they will always have a problem. They will always ask for more. People, they never learn. But that's okay to some extent, as long as they don't keep whining about it.

I have met people who have this super ability to hoard as much stress as they can gather. For instance, the conversation didn't go the way they planned it, or there is a class test tomorrow, or say the apple didn't turn out to be that red. It's like they wait for the moment. As if they haven't ever seen a moment of joy in their life, or they think the joy isn't for them. Their level of pessimism deserves a medal.

Every one has problems in life but not everyone creates an issue out of it. Not everyone chooses to tell the whole world how upset they are, or what kind of miserable lemons their lives are throwing at them. Talking about a problem isn't a bad thing as long as there is a ''problem''.

Being friends with such people costs a big fortune; peace of your mind, being on the top of the list. Not only you feel like you are obligated to soothe them, for you are guilty of committing the very crime of choosing to be friends with them in the first place, but also you have to be there for them to listen, or you are not doing much of a duty of a friend.

And as you set up your mind to save your friend the misery of dying under a stress that's not even a big deal, you jump in the pool to pull them out but you get attacked by a shark instead. Next thing you know your friend doesn't want to get out of water, one way or the other, but you have got your brain half eaten, but that's your fault, and since your friend has got other things to worry about, other very important things that matter, why give them the headache that your brain is bleeding? that poor soul has enough tragedies to live through.

Well, well, they survive. Turns out they have an extra compartment for useful stuff like that. While you, on the other hand, you don't know how much of a problem it is if they spelled 'their as there' in their language assignment and their whole life is falling apart. You just, don't know.

There is no ending to their misery, because they don't wanna get out of it. It's what they live for. They will always seek more and they will always find it.

LIFE OF A PINKY TOE

Damn it, every time, like every single time, you screw up, and the poor pinky toe has to face the outcome. And trust me, it really really, oh boy, really hurts. Every time you are careless, like every time. Point is, why the poor pinky? perks of being the smallest or perks of being the last one?

Recently, I could relate myself to this poor little toe, for, I happen to be the "last one".

I don't know, but all my life I have known that the youngest ones are the most awed by parents, they are more of a spotlight, so there comes the stubborn attitude of them. Weirdly, that isn't my case. My case, well, like I said I am the pinky toe.

My parents wanted, at least, one doctor in the family, but the older three, well let's just say they flew away, the reactions were fine because, because there was still some hope, because there was "one last chance''. And that one last chance happens to be, well, I'll let you do the math.

Now I have no problem being a doctor, if someone else could do the study part for me, cause that's not in my damn nature, that hard work, that burden, that pressure, God I can't take it. but I can't possibly explain that to them or anyone out there because they think I can.

You know, the older ones really get to get away with stuff, and even if they do get caught, guess who gets trapped in the curfew with them, yeah you. It really matters what kind of impression the older ones are leaving because that's the standard you are going to be judged on. Now if you are not as good as they are, boy, you have signed up for the taunts for life, and if they happen to be the pain in the ass, which, for instance, you thought, was a good thing, because you are not as purely evil as they are, so your parents must be proud, eh, no, because the older one is a devil, it leaves your parents in a constant fear that the younger one might follow suit.

Being the youngest isn't always fun, I guess. When the time comes to face the music, you'd really wish there was someone after you.

Someone who could take the journey to fulfill your parents dreams, or someone you could shout on after being yelled at by the older party. Someone you get to be bossy on too, but that's how it is.

Still there is some beauty of it, a lot of beauty, in fact. At least, you don't have to worry about the company. The maturity, the reality, you see it beforehand, well that is positive. I must admit your siblings do put some sense into you and save you quite an embarrassment at times, for they had already embarrassed themselves. There is a charm to it. And yeah, its way better than being the middle child. Poor them.

LOST DREAMER

She wanted to be an artist, but nobody cared, because she could do better than that, as they thought. Deep inside she had guilt, she felt like she owed their family at least this much, to give up her dream and be something they wanted to see her becoming. Deep deep inside that dream was sparking a flame, but she kept resisting it until it turned into the lava of tears and fuming desires. Pursuing her dream could be mean to everyone, after all what they had done for her, that was nothing compared to this. After all, she could always be an artist, she had herself convinced.

After rotting herself for years, trying to live someone else's dream, constantly reminding herself, how much this means to them, how much they mean to her, she created a perfect daughter, a perfect sister, a perfect everything but a perfect herself.

She got a degree, made her family proud but till then, that artist was long gone, long buried under the ashes of her dreams, that artist was now no more. Everyone was proud of her, her father, her mother, her siblings. They knew what she gained, they never knew what she lost.

She lost herself, she lost her dream, she lost who she was meant to be. Because it didn't matter to anyone. She was perfectly normal. She led a life, but she never "lived" a life.

She gained everyone's consent and that made her happy, so she kept ignoring that perplexed feeling, not knowing what it was, she spent her entire life like that. She missed that artist sometimes but it didn't hurt as much as it did once.

In her death bed, she realized what she had lost, she recognized that feeling, coming back with much more pain, this time, she realized she had murdered someone, an artist. She had killed herself, long time ago. Tears drained the shine of her eyes.

Long after she was gone, her parents talked about her proudly, gushing how pleased they were, of her, they never knew what that artist meant to her because she never told them what her dream was. They never found out she had a dream too.!