Lessons Learnt the Hard Way

I've often asked myself, when I am dead, who will mourn me? Oh I'm not talking about my parents, or siblings- people connected by blood who are genetically wired to feel grief on such occasion. I'm talking about other people. Who'll come to my funeral thinking, hey you know this lady, she was really something! When she was alive, she taught me something, she gave me hope, I looked up to her, she was good person. The truth is, I don't know. I know my beautiful children will probably not be there. No one will be there saying, my mother is dead. And so as I reflect deeply on such matters, that my life can't just end in a poof, like the rabbit in a magician's hat, I ponder over what I will leave behind in my wake by way of legacy. Nothing worldly matters once you've enter the great unknown, I know this, I mean what will I care when I'm headed to meet my Maker; except the deeds I take with me. Not my money, not my kids, nothing except my bare sou...

As mentioned in my previous post, I am often struck with inspiration by the most insignificant of things. Anything can become my muse. Today, I was compelled to write about your, average, normal everyday child. Children, by nature, especially the younger primary school going variety, are pretty honest creatures. Though their loyalties are fickle and given the chance, the next candy yielding teacher will become their 'favourite', their innocence and their unwavering optimistic approach to life is truly inspiring. We adults, hardly ever take time to delve on the coping mechanisms of young children, yet alone derive important lessons- nay- life skills from their behaviour. As of late, I am constantly tuning in on the goings on around me on an acute level. I have a filter system in my head that automatically negates the unpleasant, but tiny random acts of kindness, positivity and resilience have begun to resonate within me and rekindles the hope within my heart that hu...

There is an image in my head. It's been quite a few days, but it has not faded. It was a fleeting thing. The type of thing nobody would give a second thought to. I also remember thinking it's funny how even mundane things can be a source of inspiration, but more on that later. There was a little sparrow, dipping its beak with rapid precision, smack right in the middle of the traffic junction, in a little puddle of murky water. It was oblivious to the moving seas of cars swishing past. The puddle was in the 'neutral zone' of the junction- right in the center where no cars could overlap. In all fairness, it is Karachi and the traffic can get out of hand at any given second, yet this bird knew only its thirst and probably noticed that this particular crevice was somehow, immune to any danger. As I looked on for a minute at its incessant task, I realized that this was such a fitting analogy of the life I currently live.