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Showing posts from November, 2016

Not A Secret

A Re-Sorting

What do you do when you do not hear from your inner voices anymore? It's like a state of threshold that holds your body away from your inner voice and only submerged in your frenzy routines. Routines today are much faster than those years of our childhood. We have turned smart. But our soul needs the re-sorting that the smart world cannot provide. 
When we are almost going crazy with out rat race routines and want to feed our body some solitude and rest, feed our soul some spiritual intimacy, we look out for that weekend gateway for the much required break.

Sea Line Beach Resort in Doha is that popular hide away, the heaven on earth, for we Qatar residents to hog on some freshness and get away from the smart world.

The vast sea is the best place to reward your soul and wash your sins off those perplexing routines. There is always something in a sea that I see. Most do. Do you see too?It's the stretch that sharpens our positivity. It's the charm that gets the romantic galore i…

Learning From A Flower

The Drama Was No More Her

That another morning, Yet unfamiliar air, colourless. Fog sang a cold poem, She dropped a tear after another. I was humming soft lyrics, Empathy denied, her war on. She dropped another tear, My soul screamed aloud. Leave her alone, Unable to, I gently touched her. Sheer adamant as she seemed, Dropped her tear. Was my love eluding? Query of my soul it was. She zealously brightened, Stood tall, tears vanished. But, the magic was him, The sun who kissed her. Lovely green, her highness. The drama was no more her.

Method To My Madness - My OHD

My decision to discontinue my 8-hours daily job, after my second child seemed to show up big differences in me. 2 years on and no signs of getting out of the house and rush to the office. What a relief. But wait. Something was terribly wrong, somewhere. I was turning into a big bully at home.  In the pretext of tuning into an comfortable housewife I was turning obsessive. Tiding up the entire house meant a must do ritual to wash my cursed sin of having some disorder. I did not mind doing the bed a hundred times a day. Disorder eh? Apparently I was going through an higher version disorder of OCD called Obsessive Housewife Disorder. 
In my school days I always believed in cleanliness. It sprints in genes for me who is born in family of priests. Cleanliness was holy. I could dust away the study table each time I passed by. Watering the garden meant washing every leaf of my granny's greens. I could not tolerate a speck of dust on a leaf. One fly on a chair, and I would bull doze the per…

Dream Big To Achieve Big

PC - Self,. Taken in beautiful hills of Oman