How did I become a writer? I became a writer because I was a writer, because wherever I looked there was a story to tell.

Ate too many chocolates. Party left-overs. This is what happens when you're home alone; You fail to indulge yourself in anything useful and start eating like a pig, instead. I thought of cleaning my closet. Ended up reading old greeting cards. Reminded me of elementary school. Mrs.Western, she gave us painted shoe boxes on Valentines day. By the end of the day they were flooded with all sorts of Disney greeting cards. I kept them with me for the longest time. Today I want to run back into that old Dairy Ashford apartment and find my shoe box.
It's easier to live, go to school and grow up in the same place. But when you've moved around a lot and one day all of a sudden when you start to miss something, it's scary to look around and realize that it once happened on the other side of the globe, on another continent. In another world. More than a lifetime ago. It's very very scary. It alerts you, once again, to your not so new surroundings. The sight wasn't pretty today. You might as well have slammed the door in my face along with the accusations and judgments. So in my own way, I hid. Took refuge. I made use of those two books that I got me the other day. I'm reading three at a time. Lol?

Its not where you are, its who you're with..

Been so tired and hopelessly sleepy lately. Excuse me for not blogging about this earlier.
I dunno where to start from. I'll try, but I doubt that I'll ever be able to put out all that down here for you. I can only tell you but I wish I could make you feel it; The happiness, I felt that day.
I told you I didn't like surprises. My nineteenth birthday changed that. The birthday surprise I got was one crazy gift to stomach. The 24th was a gazillion special little moments that made my day big. But it all started even before that. Like my seventeenth birthday, this time, you broke all traditions. My birthday started at 8, the night before. When I rushed to open the gate, expecting the annoying neighbor lady but found you, instead. I was so happy, I almost-completely broke you with that hug. My apologies :)
I fell asleep early, after an orange Popsicle, to an Indian movie, on Shanzays bed. With you by my side. You made sure that I wasn't alone. And that's all I want you to remember, Mariam.
And, you guys, the calls at twelve that woke me up; Nahal, Ehab, Rabia, Shahrose. And Iman, for being so excited for me. I love you all.
Thinking that was that. I was happy enough. But you guys stole me for another surprise. Menahil, you ought to pursue a career in acting :p I love you.
So somewhere in the craziness, the screaming, that cherry-flavored soda, our wild car ride, my orange Popsicle, our funny pictures, the hugs, Sarah's Moco Loco, and that heart-shaped creek where we cut my cake with a key, and the lighter flame was my candle. I fell in love with my friends.
And Shanzay and daddy, for making the surprise never-ending. I love my iPhone4. I screamed all day long, in over-excitement of course.
Thank you Hassan, for the best day ever.
I love life.

Notice the key in my hand :p

p.s I put waterfall in my phone, because I liked it that much.

Hi. My name is Saniya. And, I am nineteen.

Best day ever. Must elaborate tomorrow. Do remind me!

p.s Nahal, those were chalk pastels. Not oil ones :p

Hi. My name is Saniya. And, I am eighteen.

In the morning, today, I didn't wanna leave home. I wanted to stay back and blog. Cause it would've helped. But I was running late and somewhere in the rush and hurry, I took with me that haunting dream that woke me today. You might refer to it as a nightmare. I've had my equal shares of nightmares. This, I assure you, was a haunting dream. What helped? Probably those two sips of coke that were almost-completely impossible to gulp down. But nonetheless, it's all good.
Wow, look at the date. Just nine hours left. At least being 18 sounded cool. 19, hmm.. I dunno. You can wish me at 12 tonight. That'll make me happy. Happy enough. I don't wanna party. I wanna spend tomorrow wearing old jeans and sweats. I wanna have lots of Popsicles lined infront of me to choose from. I'll eat the yellow ones first. And then the orange ones. And then green. And like today, I want it to rain tomorrow, too. I wanna sit on the rooftop and have chai with Hassan. And maybe watch an Indian badly-casted, overly typical lovestory and fall asleep by the heater on Shanzays bed. Yes, I'll sleep early. That'd be a treat to myself. Because I haven't slept properly in so long. And then, I'll call it a day.
It's okay, I know what you're thinking. But it's the small things that you fail to notice. A smile. A tear. The hidden hurt behind a pair of sparkling eyes. The words of a silent person. Those pauses. How that gold star can make a kindergarteners day. How a hug can comfort a scared soul. How a Popsicle can brighten my day. Try to look just a little beyond what you see. Sometimes, its simple, effortless and inexpensive. Don't go for the big things, they don't matter. Hours, days, years.. it's the tiny moments that make them up. So remember, simple moments put together are what make life big.

p.s Lol at Italy.

Rabbits. Cats. Birds. Fish. Turtles. Jimmy. Spikey. And, Me.

Today I fell in love with them all. Jimmy, she was the cutest. Who knew I was such a big animal lover, excluding cats of course. I know I got it from Mujtaba. He would have liked Spikey the best. Or Mo?
One thing I know for sure is that he would've had more fun today than I did. And I wish I had taken him with me.

It rained yesterday :)

Things you ought to do before you die:

• Torture yourself with an ice-y shower when it's freezing cold outside.
• Suck in helium from one of the balloons at the party. And then, sing the birthday song.
• Carry a fish bowl full of water and two goldfishes while the driver decides to drive like a maniac.
• Put a tiny baby turtle on your palm and wait for it to slowly stretch its legs out.
• At the peak of a kodak moment, realize that the camera was on the video mode.
• Barge into a fashion show, walk across the ramp and bump into the weird tall model. My bad?
• Arm wrestle with him. Knowing that he let you win, still get overly excited at your victory.
• Fall in love with a car-shaped cake. (Specifically, Lightning McQueen).

See the horn on top? Yeah, we called it Horny :)

lmao

So he gets the first court notice on his anniversary and the second one on Valentines day. I cracked up. Guess life is funny after all. Sometimes, emphasis on sometimes, you can't help but fall in love with such incredibly ridiculous coincidences. I sound cruel? In my defense, it is 3 in the morning and I have had two Popsicles by now. Brain-freeze +Loopyness+hunger+Insomnia+The-cold = Whatever crap I'm saying. Excuse me, please. I'm just going. I'll let this book put me to sleep tonight because all else has failed. But whats the point if I have to wake in another three hours. That would simply be torture if I sleep now. Nonetheless, Imma go sleep. Or try to, at least.
Too bad Valentines day sucked big time for him.
I had a heart-shaped meal.

14th feb 2011

Hey y'all, Happy Valentines Day!

ItalyItalyItaly

I sorta enlarged the picture. This is Sicily, Italy. Lets go?

This one I found while going through some random pictures. I'm into photography okay. The point is, this picture is the reason I want Italy. Now. Take me to Italy for my 19th birthday. This year, this is my only wish on my birthday-wish-list.

All these years in Pakistan has perverted my judgement. So I will misread his niceness and kindness as LOVE.
Yeah. Goodnight x

Shit. Im late for school! Erm, no. Its 7 in the evening. Oh.

It was one of those naps that you wake up from, not remembering if its day or night. And then you check your phone to realize that's it's only been fifteen minutes since you fell asleep. But I feel better. Fresh, too.
Anyway, this one I'm posting for you. Because then I wont be the only one in love. If not that, At least I'll make it get stuck in your head. And that's satisfying enough. I listened to it on repeat last night and let it put me to sleep.
The nightmare that woke me after, is not related. Emphasis on not related. Because well, I was humming to this one in my dream. The nightmare, I mean.

                 Because of you,
                I never stray too far from the sidewalk,
               Because of you,
               I learned to play on the safe side so I don't get hurt,
              Because of you

I want to tell you. I want to tell you why I woke to ice cold hands, the uneven breathing and the a sweaty forehead.. but Ehab once said that I shouldn't tell people about my ugly dreams. I never asked him why. So I'll get back to you on this one. Good thing you aren't a terrible curiosity-freak like me :) 

Lets bargain?

Hi. I'm tired. Very very sleepy, too. I just came to tell you that I'm happy. That rotten mood died after the longest time. The sickness died, too. I actually feel better. It wasn't doctors or your stupid medicine. Nope, none of that. In the end, shopping did what you couldn't. Take me shopping more often and I'll try to be a little less cranky.
Lemme go have some coke and we'll call it a day.
Night :)

I can feel the sharp and threatening challenge of your inspection. You might as well just say, I’ve worked out who you are, but you don’t know who I am.

Okay. I accept your views. And I also don’t. As you can see, and as you will see, I am an ordinary girl (okay maybe a little crazy, just a little!). I don’t analyze every move I make, and I don’t worry about every act possibly being taboo and against social and religious laws. All I can say is that I do not claim to be perfect (as some people do).

My stupid everyday stories are standard examples, and they are pretty good ones, of who we all are. Some of us might purposely ignore what our stories show us about ourselves, while others are just blind to them. I am forever hearing people say to me, “You will not reform the world and change the people. You are simply trying to seek attention.” They have a point, a very good point, but what I WONT do is to give up the attempt, like everyone else does. There is the difference between me and other people.

May God consider my writings as good deeds, as I only have good intentions.

Let me say it again in case someone didn’t get it the first time around:  I do not claim perfection! I confess to my ignorance and flaws. I work hard to correct my errors and to cultivate myself. If only those who find fault with me would turn around and straighten themselves out before they start agitating to straighten me out.

May all discover some hidden tumors and extract them after having been shown some ugly examples under a microscope. I see nothing wrong in telling my stories and problems on my blog so that others will benefit. The true and shameful wrong, the reality of things that we tend to ignore very often, the sometimes-sad moments, even the happy ones and simply the way I see things.

Concrete Girl.

For the very first time, I don't know what to say. I can't explain. I'm very tired. Exhausted, too, because that movie made me cry. Just a little too much.
So I wont say anything. Only just that, I am just like everyone else who listens to their heart. Don't judge just yet.  I'm still figuring it out. I still have sixteen days, till then I still am only 18.

You tell me it must've been crazy. I laugh thinking crazy is just an understatement.

                              


                                  Mole-like burrowing in the darkness,
                                 Grasping for the spiders thread,
                                 Always thwarted in ambition,
                                Until the living join the dead?


In hardly a five minute long conversation, with almost a complete stranger who knew a little too much about me, who wondered out loud that how crazy it must've been for me, moving half way across the world one too many times.Yes, I have changed 9 schools. I have lived in more than five houses by now. Packing and unpacking never went out of season. School admissions. New friends. New people. New neighbourhood. Yeah all that.
But you know what? All this time I carried my home with me. In my heart; The backyard where I learnt to walk, here in Pakistan. The windows overlooking the forest in Houston. The rooftop of this house, from where I look down on the street, the life down below being a little too close than they ought to be. That small bedroom in New York, twenty stories high. The staircase up to that apartment in Cali, flooded with orange leaves. I carried it all with me. And I fell in love with traveling.

I wrote that earlier today. Around 12 in the afternoon. I wasn't done. I went away for lunch, leaving this in my drafts. And then I forgot about it. I don't usually forget things. Especially not ones like this one. I never even forget dates, you know. Birthdays, anniversaries and random events stay with me, with precise details. Made me a good history student back in eleventh grade.

Anyway, I came here to say that you call me transparent. Even proved it? Well, I dunno how that works. Only people who bother to look close enough can see through me. But I have to say that I only agree to the part where you say I'm good at hiding it.Or good at trying to hide it? The hurt. I'm good at blocking things out, the things I don't want to know. I can be with you and go away in my head. And you wouldn't even be able to tell the difference. I'm good at protecting myself like that. So I am not vulnerable okay. Not anymore. Remember that.

Today was my day. I even had an orange Popsicle. And some sorta throat soother right after.
I need a new book now. I actually saved up for my next visit to the bookshop. This time I'll get more than two.
And Valentines Day is in nine days. I want a my-size teddy bear, okay? And lots of cards. Because I love cards.
For Monday, I might just get Tangled. Then we'll watch it together, Mariam, after class.
Now I'll go sleep.

p.s I miss my cup of chai, the not-so-cold-night. And of course, you.

Its pms okay. You add to it by being a retard. Let me have chai in peace.

Says Saint.

This one wont come in as a shocker. It's nature. The bright sunlight in my face making me squint, the faded-green of the grass, the cool air as it blows away wisps of hair off of my face. The red swing that reminds me of a hot afternoon in New Jersey: kicking the ground beneath us, leaning back a little too much, letting our hair touch the ground. Shanzay I miss us. But as I close my eyes, I can feel it. I can relive it through nature. It never changes: the sun and the stars, the sky above us, the ground beneath us and the air around us. Yet it changes so much. Nature is a time machine in itself. This very winter afternoon is my ride today. Either it's mums kindergarten class, this swing, the school building, or children? Maybe it's the mere essence of this afternoon. Whatever it may be, it reminds me of a long ago childhood.
You never read my blog. Not even when I beg you too. I know it doesn't interest you whatsoever. But I really wish you'd read this one.
I want to be a kid again with you. Back when I'd laugh at somebody in their face just because something stupid seemed funny. Back when Barbies clothes mattered to me more than my own. Back when a quarter and a candy machine was all it took to make my day. Back when hurt could be forgotten in a matter of seconds. Back when daddy rode us to school and mama was a little too enthusiastic about our bedtime.  Back when I'd scream at the top of my voice simply at the sight of a cat.. Wait, I still do that :o
The point is, scabbed knees are easier to mend than  broken hearts.
I let go of that kid in me a little too early. I had to. Because I wanted you to live like one for as long as you liked. I grew up trying to divide the hurt among us, trying to steal as much of it as I could. Because I owed you. For every single one of those memories of my childhood. For you I'd do it again. A million times over. Know why? Because, of all people, you were the first one to proof-read my silly little stories. The only person I let pull my hair. You were my first best friend. Even though you never let me do your hair, it was on your head that I learnt to make ponytails.
So today as I sit here, I miss our childhood together. So this one I wrote to Thank you.

Sorry Ehab, I got distracted. It's nature that inspires me to write. Next hang out? Erm, see you at the mountains?

YELLOW. OKAY? I WANT A YELLOW ONE.

Been wanting to delete the last post ever since the minute I posted it. No, its not about you. Just. Because.
Last nights sadness made me sick, literally. I promised to live on just one cup. Didn't happen. The sickness did, though. But now I cant even have chai. So. Horribly. Unfair. What ever the hell I fall in love with becomes taboo for me! I could give you a whole list; Popsicles. Coke. Lemon. Ketchup. Cold coffee. And now tea too. And don't make me name people. Screw life.

loserville.

Dumb-down on my accent? Hell no, lady. Go take an English class. It ought to do you some good. Actually, I changed my mind. It wont. You'll spend the rest of your life talking like a retard. So will your children and your grandchildren and their children.
I woke up early today and then bumped into people like these. What a waste. I even skipped breakfast. Then you ask me why I'm in a rotten mood. Well, hello?