REHANA BLOGS

In our lives, there are two kinds of people. Those who see the potential we have, and those who don't. If one is fortunate, then one has plenty of the former in their lives, as compared to the later. It is these people who inspire us, encourage us to perform to the best of our abilities. It is they who give us the courage to be what WE want to be, and not what others want us to become. Mrs. Khan was my teacher in Kensec. Before that, she was my tuition teacher when I was in Memon. It was she who built my dreams, who encouraged me to do something few girls had ever attempted, she who saw the person I could be one day. I am thankful that she was there, when I graduated as an electronics engineer. She gave me a hug that day, when I met her for the first time after completing my course. She's never hugged me before. When she died, the world lost something. So many students, so many people who looked up to her, were lost, left defeated, at the magnitude of the evil that was done to...

In this land, this land of the living, there are three things worth noting. First. The world is flat. It goes on and on and on. Second. Fire roars, and destroys before you even know it’s touched you. All living beings come into contact with fire at one point or another in their lives. Freaks me out. Three. We love being loved, but we can’t give that love back. It’s like we’re not emotionally capable of doing that. The human mind is weird in that manner. If no-one wants to give love, then no-one can receive it. Weird. Past, present, future; it all adds up to one thing. Time. We go on and on, and live out our days. But there are days that we relive again and again and again. I’m looking forward to tomorrow with bright eyes, even though I’ve lived it a thousand times. Every time I raise my eyes to see something, I experience that feeling that I’ve seen it before. Not just once. It’s like déjà vu, only a hundred times worse. There are conversations I have that I’ve had five years ago. ...

Forever etched on this stone lies a little bit of what I used to be. On this stone is a memory that is etched in my brain, as though with glass. It is this stone that is responsible for my foray into the land of the living. A person can never have too many memories, and yet I do. I have too many memories. Memories tied to this stone, memories that remain on this stone, even as it undergoes a daily drenching by this water of this ocean. They are memories of a life that once lived, that had a place in this world, a life that had yet to be fulfilled. A life that was wiped out of existence long ago. A life that managed to take only the essence of true friendship away, and left everything else behind. On this stone, this rock on this beach are etched memories of two girls, who sat together and played snakes and ladders, holding the board firmly against the wind. On this stone, two small lives talked about the presence of ghosts, and spirits. On this stone, two spirits met and bonded a...