Cards, Photo Albums and a Share Box.

Day Twenty: The Things We Treasure

Today’s Prompt: Tell us the story of your most-prized possession.


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A McDonald’s share box. It comes with a family deal. Now it holds my treasuries. Little trophies of memories those are dear to me. Just thinking about the deal takes me back to the day, I had this dinner with my family. Two Big Macs, a MC Crispy and a MC Chicken, I being the Big Mac lover would obviously get it and other members would manage accordingly, Heck! They were having this McDonald’s dinner just because I had to have this new deal. They were doing this for me.

Sitting on one corner of the shelf mounted on my room’s wall , it reminds me of the times, with my best friends,sharing our favorite meals . It reminds me of the all the reasons over which we bonded. A box of memories. It is a home to greeting cards, Letters and Photo Albums.

It contains different things I have received throughout my life. Eid greetings, Congratulatory wishes., Birthday wishes, Friendship promises, Get well soon-s, apologies, letters and some wrappers. Each of them, a representative of some fond memory. Then it contains Albums containing pictures of my childhood, family gatherings, school trips and college hangouts. Stills of some of the beautiful memories of my life, I never want to forget.

Now, when I see the various Eid cards, it takes me back to the childhood when exchanging Eid cards was a big deal. Everyone would give each other cards before the holidays, even the friends who were not very close. I haven’t seen most of those people after leaving school, a few I see after a year or so,and one has become an essential part of my life now. I love giving cards to my friends because it is an easier way of expressing my feelings. Words are friendly to me when writing, while speaking, well, that’s a different story. I have several friendship cards, almost all of them from my best friend, they contain some promises, some apologies and some expressions of pure love. All these cards remind me of all those people with whom I have spent good times.

Then there are letters. I have done correspondence in the form of letters with one friend, my childhood buddy who shifted to another country for four years. They remind  me of our childish hand writings, stupid confessions. my life here and her life there and basically growing up together but through letters.

There are also some wrappers in it. Yes, some wrappers which come as a result of a childhood tradition. Its called the “Red Wrappers Day”. Exactly one day before the Valentine’s Day two of my friends at school shared a KitKat and one of them asked to save the wrapper. Out of blur, that moment turned into a promise that we will always wish each other on this day and if possible gift something wrapped in a red wrapper. I don’t know what was it, innocence, stupidity, or the weight of the feeling that school was soon going to end, we all promised and followed the tradition. A friend made sure to send us the gifts wrapped in red wrapping papers, hence the wrappers. After seven years it is now limited to a “Happy Red Wrapper’s Day” text message each year but it is still something to hang on to.

Last thing left are the photographs. They are from different phases of my life, Childhood, school and college until finally it all became digital. Don’t get me wrong I have trillions of photos saved in my computer, some more in my Dad’s old computer, they keep increasing but these albums hold a place just slightly above the digital ones.

The childhood pictures remind me of the innocent, less glamorous times. Some of the people are not in my life anymore like my Grandma. Those pictures also contain my childhood home, the place where I was born and spent the initial eight years. I will always love that house more than any other house. There are pictures of family outings, school trips and college days. Some people are still a part of my life some are just a memory. But I have pictures to relive those times.

These are my treasuries, my prized possessions. Each one of them is a portal to a beautiful memory. I don’t regret any of those memories. They are a reason to smile, a welcomed distraction. They fill my heart with nothing else but warmth.


Final post for Writing101. I enjoyed this thoroughly and I am going to miss it. Thank you all those who read and appreciated. You all are great. Also, yaay for my longest post till now 😀

Writing101 Day19

Don’t Stop the Rockin’

Today is a free writing day. Write at least four-hundred words, and once you start typing, don’t stop. No self-editing, no trash-talking, and no second guessing: just go.


It’s a free writing day! I always tend to just unload on such days. I don’t want to do that but I do want to share some things so i’ll just start. This the second last day of writing 101, gotta say I got addicted to it and i am gonna miss this. It helped a lot of course. I am also taking this fiction writing course, I’m a little slow but I’m learning. I bought my writing journal for it started taking notes in it. Yaaay! I am excited about it like a kid. I have always written diaries and journals, random thoughts and inspirations, but I never really gave it the name of a writing journal. So, yaaay my official journal. haha.

Talking about the journal.. and thoughts, My first thoughts which I wrote about were the marks made on the wall by an arm chair, due to constant hitting on the same place. Who knows maybe someday i will write about it. Also, about how people in the east manage long distance marriages. How people go to middle east, mainly for earning, but involve in illegal stuff, and then get deported back. That is just sad, not only the person suffers but also his family back home. I am seeing a story near me. This same thing happening to a family. This got me thinking maybe I can write about it. I have started to see as a writer.As, they say in the course.

I want to hang on to this, writing that is. I started it more like a cry for help, but as i am writing more and more I am gaining confidence and maybe I finally know something i am good at. Anyways, even if it means nothing I know I’m enjoying this and in the moment things are good. Alhumdulillah for that.

Now, as my usual self I am second guessing, and thinking who the hell would want to read my rambling. But hey its free writing, so no stopping haha.Also right now my brain is flooded with Dan brown’s Inferno. i have to present on it in my class on Monday. Hope that I do good!

Come what may. Keep Rockin! Keep writing! Keep Lovin!

Writing101 Day 18

The neighbourhood has seen better days, but Mrs. Pauley has lived there since before anyone can remember. She raised a family of six boys, who’ve all grown up and moved away. Since Mr. Pauley died three months ago, she’d had no income. She’s fallen behind in the rent. The landlord, accompanied by the police, have come to evict Mrs. Pauley from the house she’s lived in for forty years.

Today’s prompt: write this story in first person, told by the twelve-year-old sitting on the stoop across the street.

Today’s twist: For those of you who want an extra challenge, think about more than simply writing in first-person point of view — build this twelve-year-old as a character. Reveal at least one personality quirk, for example, either through spoken dialogue or inner monologue.


I sat on the curb, watching Mrs. Pauley, stand silently outside her house as the police men and her landlord were evicting her out of her house. She looked grey today. I remember the first time I met her I told her she was yellow.

She laughed, her hearty laugh, and asked me, “what do you mean yellow , little boy?”. I told her I like describing everyone with colors. Yellow is a happy color and so are you. Mr. Paul is Red. He is always angry. She laughed and said, “Oh dear, don’t judge a book by its cover. He is a gentle man, only he doesn’t like to show it.” She hasn’t looked yellow after Mr. Paul’s death, two years back. She loved him a lot.

I am sad that she is leaving. I don’t know where she will go now. Dad said she has to go because she doesn’t have money to pay the rent. I will miss her, her lasagna and the stories of her childhood. I cannot imagine anyone else living in that house, it belongs to Mrs. Paul. I wish there was any way I could help her. I should probably go stand by her, she looks lonely, and all those men look very black.

Writing101 Day 17

Today’s Prompt: We all have anxieties, worries, and fears. What are you scared of? Address one of your worst fears.

Today’s Twist: Write this post in a style distinct from your own.


Everything seems okay

On point

She seems quite stable

Look closely

You’ll see the beads of sweat

The trembling hands

The fast beating heart

She’s afraid

She might be wrong

She will be insulted

Humiliated

She is having second thoughts

Second guessing

She should not do it

Because for her

It can either be good

Or nothing

Because she can’t take it

The shrieking voice tearing through

The stares

The whispers

The judgements afterwards

She might as well not do it


My worst fear is humiliation. I am afraid of being insulted. It has good and bad aspects. Good … I try to do everything perfectly, so that no one gets a chance to say something to me. Bad… well it stops me from doing a lot of things, from doing anything out of my comfort zone. haah!  Somethings are hard to change 😦 I still try 😛 This writing challenge is one of the tries…(Also writing about it is very hard too 😦 )

As for the twist, I tried Free Verse. Let me know what you think.

Writing101 Day16

Today’s Prompt: Imagine you had a job in which you had to sift through forgotten or lost belongings. Describe a day in which you come upon something peculiar, or tell a story about something interesting you find in a pile.

This the part 3/3 of serially lost post.

First part.. STUCK IN REVERSE

Second part.. NOBODY SAID IT WAS EASY, NO ONE EVER SAID IT WOULD BE THIS HARD

and now the third..


AND I HEADED STRAIGHT INTO THE SHINING SUN

Wading through the sea of doubt that surrounded her, almost neck-deep, she saw a flash of light. What was that? A firefly? She saw the flash and ran towards it, only midway it vanished. She couldn’t see it anymore. Was she hallucinating? Was she so desperate to find the light that she was imagining things? She found herself drowning in a new kind of darkness full of despair. She was losing her confidence, confidence to move on. She was losing her fight.

So, she knelt down and prayed, prayed for guidance, prayed for consolation, prayed for support, she prayed with all her might, prayed for the light. She sat there in the dark, waiting for the light. Then she saw it ,the flash again. She stared at it, afraid any movement would make it go away. This time the firefly didn’t vanish, except it moved towards her. When it came closer, she saw that there were two, and as they came closer, she realized that there were a bunch of them. They hovered near her illuminating the space around. In that moment, she saw them, faces in that little ring of light. She knew those faces well; they were the faces of her support systems. They told her that they never disappeared, they were always in her heart, and this is a projection of her heart on the screen of her mind. All she has to do is hang on to them and the ring will become bigger. You have to believe and hold on tight.

So she held on. She held on and thanked God for guiding her. She followed her light ring, limping her way out of the dark. She was still afraid, because she had lost a lot to the darkness. She still doubted herself, whether she be able to see the light, after being engulfed in the dark for so long. She wanted to erase the past and embark on something new, something she feels good about.

The journey out of the dark was not easy at all. There were sharp turns and dead ends and places where light dwindled and almost went out. She kept on moving, falling down and getting backup, Drowning in doubt but coming back up. Whenever darkness tried to sweep over her, she hung on to the few good things in her life that had been shoved somewhere far away in her mind and she scribbled them down. Through her scribbling and jotting down of tattered thoughts, which apparently meant nothing, she found her something good.

She kept walking, hanging onto the light and her forgotten love for her abilities. She is still walking, Sometimes it becomes hard to see. It becomes difficult to not doubt herself, because darkness has given her that, doubt and fear. It has become a part of her, but she is trying, gradually making her way out, like light slowly infiltrates through the dark and eventually brightens up everything.


Now she knows how to walk out of it. That is all that matters. So this the end … well not exactly the end coz’ life goes on. I had a great time writing all this down and it helped a lot.

Also I want to mention that all three titles are courtesy of song lyrics.

1. Fix You by Coldplay.

2. The Scientist by Coldplay.

3. Coming back to life by Pink Floyd. respectively.

Let me know what you think.

Writing101 Day15

Today’s Prompt: Think about an event you’ve attended and loved. Your hometown’s annual fair. That life-changing music festival. A conference that shifted your worldview. Imagine you’re told it will be cancelled forever or taken over by an evil corporate force.

How does that make you feel?

I couldn’t think of any one event.There is no special event but a time span of two years spent in my college which holds a very important place in my heart.This one is for my days spent there.


THE KINNAIRD DAYS

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All my time, spent in my college, was the best. I cherish every moment of it, even the bad ones. I cannot pinpoint to any one event during the two years of my college life, but everything that happened there including: orientation, ragging, bunking classes, going to restaurants all alone, the welcome party, the bonfire, the cultural days, the bake sales or simply one of those crazy days when we felt too happy and too pretty to act goofy and take thousands of pointless pictures, was great.

I love each and every moment of that time because I have no regret associated with anything I did at that time. Everything was mostly good and the bad stuff didn’t hurt much. The place, the people, the purpose of being at that place was good for me; I can say that I was in a good place.

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That time has ended, so, I don’t have to imagine how it would feel if all of that wasn’t there anymore. I have felt it. It is simple, I feel incomplete without the people and the place. I have never really felt anything to the fullest after that. Even now, when I go to that place, I enjoy every nook and corner of that place and relive every memory.

I know that every time comes to an end. It had to end because God had other things planned for me. I am thankful for what happened afterwards, I may not have the same feelings for the “afterwards”, but I am thankful that all my time, spent in college, ended with a “good” image in my mind. I am thankful that I have these memories, kept safely, in some corner of my mind, which I can always go back to. I am thankful that I will never lose the memories and most importantly, I will never lose the friends I got from that time.

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<3..

Writing101 Day14

Today’s Prompt: Pick up the nearest book and flip to page 29. What’s the first word that jumps off the page? Use this word as your springboard for inspiration.

Today’s twist: write the post in the form of a letter.


I am currently reading Dan Brown’s “Deception point”. Page 29 brought up the word ” Spy Technologies”. So, Here’s one for the oh-so-cool Spy technologies.


Awesome Spy Technologies,

I have never really had a chance to tell you that how much I love your coolness. Spies can never be as fast and awesome as they are because of you. You allow them to run from dead ends and survive in most difficult situations. All the cool gadgetry excites me. Right now when I think of you, I imagine myself, saving the day, setting an explosion in the “bad guy’s” territory, look him in the eye, give a wicked smile, and fly away, just as the fire starts to engulf him, because I have rockets in my shoes.

Every technology is exceptional in its own way. I have seen it mostly in movies. Taking images with blink of an eye, or hide behind invisible sheets. Machine which produces food with a click of a button. Bullets made of ice, which melt away after they have served their purpose, leaving no trace behind. Fastest car which can convert into a bike,

I like it because I always wanted to be fast and sharp. This is the big stuff but if I ever get a chance, If you are kind enough to bestow some of your coolness upon me, I would want a button, which builds a tunnel to my best friend’s house. A huge bookshelf, that revolves and on the other side is a room which transforms every book into 3-D.

Continue being awesome.

Spy kid.


This was different for me. I enjoyed this haha.

Writing 101 Day13

Today’s Prompt: write about finding something.

Today’s twist: if you wrote day four’s post as the first in a series, use this one as the second installment — loosely defined.

This is the second part of Day 4 writing, STUCK IN REVERSE


NOBODY SAID IT WAS EASY, NO ONE EVER SAID IT WOULD BE THIS HARD

Standing in the pitch black, that surrounded her, she realized she has stopped struggling. The light outside her was gone and so was the one within her. She stood there as numbness slowly started to infiltrate her senses. Her body was frozen and her brain was in an overdrive. Questions were hitting her like small drones. How did she loose the light? When did she go far enough to not being able to see? When did she take the wrong turn? Did she not know that she took a wrong turn somewhere along the path? Why did she not know? When did she start moving towards darkness? Why did she do this to herself? She felt herself being surrounded by a deep halo, halo of wrong decisions, regrets, self-doubt and loneliness. A halo darker than the darkness surrounding her.

She wanted to run away or hide. There were no shadows to hide and there was nowhere to run. She wished, she was dead so there won’t be anything to feel, but she was alive. She was alive and aware. She closed her eyes, hoping it would make this go away but only more darkness surrounded her. It didn’t change anything; she was still aware, aware of the fact that she has to do something. She weighed her options, she was stuck in the middle, everything behind had faded away and everything forward was vague but there. She had no other option but to keep on moving.

She mustered up all the energy left inside her and started moving forward. She tried to remember, something they say, something about silver linings. Something about, light at the end of the tunnel. Something about, every good thing comes to an end but so do the bad things. So, she started taking baby steps forward, apparently into nothingness. She moved nonetheless because she didn’t have an option.

Wading through the sea of doubt that surrounded her, almost neck-deep, she saw a flash of light. What was that? A firefly?


yaay! A flash of light.

Let me know what you think?

Writing 101 Day 11

Today’s Prompt: Where did you live when you were 12 years old?Which town, city, and country? Was it a house or an apartment? A boarding school or foster home? An airstream or an RV? Who lived there with you?

Today’s twist: pay attention to your sentence lengths and use short, medium, and long sentences as you compose your response about the home you lived in when you were twelve.


When I was twelve years old, I lived in the same house and same room I still live in. We had shifted from my birthplace to another city. I was excited for the new stuff happening but I also hated this new place. I had to leave behind friends, memories and my childhood. I used to believe that every bad thing happening to me is because we came to this place but at the same time this new house gave me my first independent room. I was so happy to get it.

The walls were white and the carpet was blue. There was a window on one corner of the left wall, facing the garden outside. The garden is gone now, so is the window. Oh, I miss my window. Initially, our house was constructed on half of the total plot area, half of it had a garden. Eventually, with growing needs of the family the other half was constructed as well.That’s how I lost that window.Now my room is sandwiched between my parent’s and my brother’s.

The house  and my room have gone through minor changes over time. Everything else is pretty much the same. So, when I think about where I lived when I was twelve, I see the same place with few superficial changes. All I can gather is that the place  has changed, the person has changed and the feelings have changed. Still, everything is somehow the same. I miss that window though.


Writing101 Day10

Today’s Prompt: Tell us something about your favorite childhood meal — the one that was always a treat, that meant “celebration,” or that comforted you and has deep roots in your memory.


When a foodie is asked about food, its gonna be food all over the place!. I love food and I mean I love food  in a way, when you get an assignment in your design class to draw something that represents your personality, I draw a burger !? Yes! a Bigmac to be precise.

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It all comes naturally, Pasta, Pizza, Fries, Cake, Ice cream, Chocolate or the Desi stuff.. Biryani, Daal chawal, Hari chatni, Naan with malaai. The list goes on and on. Bigmac and I, we go way back. I remember in school my best friend, who was not yet enlightened with the existence of Bigmac, told me that she eats MC chicken. I asked her have you tried the other one, the one that has two patties! It’s bigger and yummier. From that day on, it was Bigmac all the way. She still thanks me for the enlightenment.Then in college, I remember our new friend, Rabia, told us she had never eaten a Bigmac. We told her that she is missing out on life, she needs to eat it or she would die without knowing life. Now we call ourselves “Eating monsters”. Its a cheesy name right? But its okay coz’ cheese is yummy right ?

All our celebrations and all our “I-am-stressed-out-help-me” meet ups always revolve around food. All our pictures consist of us and Bigmac. My friend Sadaf likes to describe it. Bigmac is perfect in a way that when you open the container and its intoxicating smell reaches your nostrils, you know you are a happy person. You are happy but also a little sad that its gonna end soon, you enjoy it bit by bit. When you are half way done, the sadness starts to go away because the happiness prevails. You know its gonna end but its gonna leave you satisfied.When it finally ends you have no worries in your heart you know Bigmac has made your day. But that does not mean you are not coming again, SOON!

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Oh and did I mention my folks at my university call me Bigmac? Yeah, they do! The other day, we were leaving for home and I was a little low that day, my friend said, ” Noorya are you okay? Do you need a bigmac?” and that did the trick! whossh all the clouds of worry lurking above me vanished and I said Yes Please!. Thanks Alina and Faryal for the treat.

One of my dreams also include to go on a cheese testing event and be a head chef or something …haha. Oh! and yes have a really awesome food blog someday.


i don’t know about my inner voice ??It felt more like me rambling about how much I love food. Anyways it was fun 😀