NazeefWrites

LISTEN TO others. We all are busy in our life. We all are facing the battle of depression and anxiety. Life has become difficult and challenging ever since technology has become fast forward. Time has engulfed our schedule. Distance has destroyed our relationships. Days are slipping like minutes and we are on a journey to become materialistic. The world has become a whirlpool of downheartedness and dejection. The most heart-wrenching part, we all are drowning into it. Instead of pulling each other up, we are pushing ourselves and also others into the endless pit. . At the time of despair and downturn, we need to understand each other. We need to give time . We need to listen. But how shall we understand each other? By what means we can cement the gap between us? Listen to them. Ask yourself, when was the last time you listened to your loved ones genuinely? When was the last time you approached your closed ones and asked them about their condition? Did you...

give space. There was a moment in my life where I was surrounded by the people who controlled my mind and heart. I was supposed to do what they want me to do. I was supposed to talk like them. I was supposed to laugh, eat and act like them. At first, it was fine. I began to accept their rules and regulations. later, things didn't workout. I started feeling anxious. I grew nervous. I realize that I was in a bad relationship with these people. I remember where one of my friend said ' you have to uproot your plant if the root grew poisonous'. M circle was harmful. I was been controlled. I didn't have any freedom to express my views, thoughts and opinions. Life seems so unfair at that point. . but the idea of love and friendship was still in my mind. I feared for I didn't have anyone to get mingle with during my college days. I was feared by the idea that I will be left alone with no one around me. I was feared by the notion of getting bullied by them. I was sc...

Little things with great love - 1 It was dusk. The sky turned crimson red. I headed towards masjid to offer magrib prayer. I saw an extremely old man. He had a slouch body and stick in his hand. My eyes were fixed on him. I gazed at his twinkling eyes that concealed thousands of sagas, explanations, regrets and memories. We finished our magrib prayer and I was sitting behind the old man. I watched his trembling hands reaching towards the dusty shelf where the holy book of Allah And other Islamic text were kept.  I wondered how the tiny eyes with blurred vision could read a book. How could he hold such a heavy book with his soft hand? Meanwhile, another hand reached towards the shelf and he took hold of the book. The man took a chair and sat beside the old man. He opened the marked chapter. Not only he read but explained every single line. The man threw his hands on air as he explained him the rules and regulations of ‘ salah ’ that was written on the book. I continu...

Tea with a drop of pasina mixed! I had my breakfast in Vitla, a place where morning birds visit to eat puri -baji. The canteen is small and provides only three menu dishes; idli wada, buns and puri baji. The benches are rusty and it’s dirty everywhere. I watched the ‘lazy birds’ who have just crooned out of their nest to face the day. The most unacceptable scene is when the waiter pours us water from the jug that hasn’t taken bath for weeks. The plate is washed but still the traces of dal could be seen. The market is getting busier slowly and people are rushing into the canteen. There are poor, rich but mostly average earning employees in their official dress. There are also gym freaks in their sports shoes and skin tight t-shirts that showcased their six or eight pack abs. there are bus drivers with conductors. Auto rickshaw drivers with a napkin around their neck. From the backyard, enters a waiter with a small towel of red color and white borders on his shoulder. ...

He is my student. He is in third standard. He is an intelligent boy. He is co-operative and a disciplined fellow in my class. He is different from his classmates. Masha Allah, he has completed around 14 chapters from the book of holy Quran. Also, he is a great learner in Science and mathematics. Apart from this, The tiny little star is fond of Urdu poetry. He collects Urdu poetry penned by different poets. He like poetry based on Islamic inspiration. He collects his work in a small notebook. He is fond of his activity. Here is one such Urdu poetry that touched my heart. “ Babool bow kar gulaab ki tamanna rakhte hain,  ajeeb log hain kaisa hisaab maangte hain” isn’t that interesting? How beautifully he has chosen his hobby. I have become so closed to him since I learned about his interest. Well, there is a kid in everybody. We need to re-kindle our thoughts. We need to encourage ourselves to take up a new hobby and learn something from it. We have to search for the t...

What if they “don’t like you”? There were incidents where I learned about some people who didn’t like me. First few days, I was angry on them. The next few days, I grew sad. Finally, I suffered from anxiety and sadness. I lost interest in my studies. I got low grades in my exams. I became social media addict. I became an introvert and soon boredom made it’s place in my mind. Days slipped into months and it was a peak time where I had to decide my future career. I decided I will become a teacher. By that time, I started living among small kids and young teens. I began to teach Science. During this coarse, I observed each and every student of mine. I observed how they laughed at silly jokes. I saw how excited they were for mere experiments. I observed a boy who swiftly ignored a person and made himself busy in other stuffs. I realized that boys in my school were enlightened by every minute. They maintained their discipline and as well as simplified their life. I realized, I waste...

WISH -Nazeef Khaleel. The vast sky, the chirping birds, the sea, the mountains, lilies, roses and you. .my eyes searched for you. My heart yearns for you. It yearn to dive into the deep oceans of your eyes. You were as far as the sky is from the earth and as close as my skin to the heart I could see the honey falling from your lips, sense the smell of jasmine from your sacred body. Your words- pure and holy that traveled in the blanket of air to unfurled happiness.  I remember the first time I saw you. The peacock colored dupatta , the khankhan of your anklets, the sound of your bangles that reminded me of Nightingale's voice. You were a candle that enlightened the atmosphere. You were like a falling star, a flowing river, rose without thorns and the lines of poet Galib. . . How I wished to touch your slender figure that were regarded as a sacred body, a monument whose folks gave example of beauty and highness. I stood there, watching the timeless beauty. How I wis...