2013, By the roaring waves!, Paintings and Scribblings

The Outsiders –

January 9, 2014. Midnight, clock out-of-reach.

It isn’t really that late, but almost everyone here is asleep. Covered under tonight’s blanket, they’re all searching inside their dreams. And I’m sitting here, scribbling outside.. my dreams.

A few cars still rush by, but the traffic isn’t noisy. The night is calm, and serene. It’s winter, so yes, very cold. But I like it. They all like it! Why, it was yesterday only that those four to five men sat by a fire on the roadside, the sky being their only roof, chatting happily. Happily, well, I hope. Maybe they were discussing life’s cruelties, or generally how busy they were during the day’s work, anything at all. I don’t know, I could only see them afar and wish they’d get themselves some hot cups of tea to feel better. Outsiders they were. Outsiders they’re.

Ammi‘s pink, pashmina shawl is what I’ve got wrapped around, to warm myself with. It gives me a cozy feeling, but the wind somehow still manages to seep through. And I like how they play- those chills- it makes me want to write, it makes me want to live.

Some crazy man shouted something down there. I don’t know what, or to whom, he just went away after that. A rickshaw honks somewhere, that too disturbing the night’s calm. Outsiders, how they leave momentary impacts.

Karachi is the city of lights, so it never really sleeps. But it’s probably too late now, because those lights that shone since hours on that tall building opposite from where I sit, have now been turned off. They were some tiny, colorful bulbs that decorated the entire building’s face, they do this every RabiUlAwwal.

Life is nothing without colors, colors are what bring life to life. But how we associate them for particular definitions! White is for enmity, but it also denotes peace. Such amazing antonyms they’ve grouped together…
He had once said, “Mout zindagi ki sab se barri muhafiz hy.” I didn’t know then what it meant, but it really puzzled me. Death is what ends life, how could it be a savior or protector, or anything that kind? He’s an old teacher, a strange mentor, Allah-walah. Outsider.

The sky is starless, the road’s almost empty. I must quit.


~ Previous night’s journal entry, because today’s prompt said so.


52 thoughts on “The Outsiders –

  1. Pingback: The Outsiders | A mom's blog

      • The purpose was not make you feel sorry, dear sister.

        I was feeling a bit difficult to read because of the many images of leaves and flowers spread in the background.

        The theme as such is good, and probably you like it very much because it is girly too.

        Carry on with your good work, Inshaa’Allah.

        Vassalamu Alaikum.

        • Thank you for your kind response. It’s girlish, yes, plus it’s a gift I got from my cousin who’s a fellow blogger which makes it special for me. 🙂 I’ll try changing the fonts and making them more prominent so that it becomes easier and read-able. JazakAllah ho Khaer.

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  11. I loved the cultural touch you put to this piece. Some that awards the writing with personalization and an enigmatic feel. Those lines about how you interpret the chills, and the lights, and how humane we are in hoping that people can be happy despite the terrible disgress they face.
    And yet again, I am, but an outsider. 😉

    • You are, but an outsider. But unlike some that leave momentarily impacts (ln 18), a few strangers are those that leave ever-lasting imprints. They become outsiders-inside, which isn’t a word anyway. 😉
      Thank you for reading, and for your lovely comment, Ghalia. ♥

    • Oh, thank you for sharing. It’s just so good, true to each word. Karachi really is about that common man who despite his sufferings, keeps struggling in good spirits to earn himself and his family a living.

  12. Nicely written!
    Mout zindagi ki muhafiz hay — kioN k mout janti hay k zindagi os k aanay k bad hi shuroo hoti hay!
    Isliye mout yad dilati hay k zindagi ye nahi hay–zindagi wo hay– os ki fikr karain!

  13. That was beautiful Maria…..The sad kind of feeling wrapped in normal-ness…..and those realities of life told in a beautiful way with you wrapped in Pink pashmeena shawal are just so perfect !! I love your ideas how you perceive life…how you think about it. That’s a blessing in itself.

  14. I am reading this piece for the 5th or the 6th time… Each time wanted to comment on this masterpiece… But the stupid internet connection never allowed my dreams to reach its destination 😛

    Anyways… Mast likha hai 🙂

    And Happy Milad un Nabi to you 🙂

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  16. I like how you incorporated the city of Karachi into this piece. My father, though from Punjab, attended Law school in Karachi and would often rant and rave about the beauty of the city and how it is a character in and of itself. I hope to visit it one day, InshAllah.

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