Musical Undertones

Basically I have been attempting the November prompts, I just haven’t been posting. I don’t know why but anyways, here’s today’s. Even if I’m not writing a novel or anything. It’s just that I enjoy them. Anyways.


They tried to take her with them. They tried to drag her away from what would be her destruction. They all tried. She saw them, and heard them, but did not understand. They were vacating the mountains and moving to the plains.

The mountains would be bombed.

They wanted to save her — a fragile soul, delicate skin, big dreamy eyes, face like a nectarine. However, she wouldn’t have any of this. The threat of the air strikes did not worry her weary mind. She had worried too much for her young years. Father, mother — all gone. She had been alone for a long time now. The mountains were her security. She could not leave them. The souls of her family traversed these paths with her. She knew they were there.

They tried to console themselves. Her delirious mind would bring about her destruction, they said. She laughed at them as they turned around to leave. Destruction? No.

Her bare feet led her to the river that ran between the two mountains that constituted her village. She decided to go up to the bridge. In the middle of the bridge, with the river roaring furiously, she stood and stared. Eyes fixed on this massive water body, mind racing with thoughts better left alone. She remembered everything. Her father taking her hand, telling her not to be afraid as they crossed the bridge. Her mother, scolding her and sending her outside the house in the cold as a punishment. The men that came. The way she hid, paralysed with fear, behind the bush. The way the house was set on fire. But what stood out the most — the screams. She wished she could forget. But they never did stop. Bloodied screams in a blazing fire.

She saw the river. How beautiful! Her internal conflicts resonated with the rage of the river. Her heart was at peace at last. It seemed to her as if the river had turned stationary, and she (with the bridge) was accelerating backwards. She felt an odd sense of calm and serene descend upon her as the river dissolved her identity. She was losing herself, she was aware of that. But she wasn’t afraid. The river — a massive body of rage and fury, but with musical undertones. Blue and grey on the surface but concealing all colours in its cold depths. Apparently indifferent, but actually holding the secrets to all of human history. How could she be afraid? What had sounded like the wrath of the river was a melodious voice singing to her.

Yes, she was losing herself. But to her Beloved.

Her beloved embraced her with cold, open arms.


Writing prompt: Musical Undertones (day 5)

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Vacant Stares

The river, it flows

Reflecting images in its course

It gushes forth, every second

A new image

Images never seen by humanity

Images the river hides

Images. The rocks’ secrets.

Of everything that took place

But wasn’t ever seen by eyes

The eyes that

When witnessed miracles

Nature’s greatest

Blinked.

And turned away

Often looked down

At artificial screens

In the presence of Grandeur.

So nature, in revenge,

Feeling insulted

At something the Creator

of the moon created

Being rejected,

Took away their sights

So that they never saw

And all that remained

Were vacant stares


I know I’m not doing these prompts everyday, and BELIEVE ME I had some pretty cool ideas too, but I just didn’t have the time! Also, I love how they make me think! It’s so fun. If you haven’t tried this already, why don’t you check it out here? Also, I’m doing two different prompts at the same time. So you can check out the other one in the previous post.

Check this one out here:

https://puttingmyfeetinthedirt.com/2017/10/01/october-writing-prompts/

A Lost Key

They say there is a land. A land composed entirely of thoughts, feelings, emotions and most importantly: words. They say there is a land where words flow in the streams, words accumulate in the oceans, words pour down with the rain. They say that the words are not hateful and full of spite, nor do they contain malice. It is a land full of clear intentions, crystal clear. They say it is a land where men and women are judged and respected based on their words and words alone. They say it is a land where people write and read and write and read. They say it is a land where respect is based on the quality of words, where nobility is expression. They say it is a land where people need not worry about careers and money and materials. It is a land for the creative. A land for expression. They say it is a land where words run free…. where there are no chains or borders or limitations in vocabulary. They say…

They also say it is a land amidst beauty and purity. They say the land is guarded against anything that could be potentially harmful. They say there is a high wall, electrocuting anything that threatens to invade. They say there is only one way to enter: a gate. The gate has long, iron bars, with gold spheres on top that glow. They say it is an extension of Jannah (Heaven). They say that on that gate is a single fragile-looking lock, made of white gold. They say the lock is actually deceit, it is the strongest lock there is. They say that the only way to enter is to unlock it with a key. And, that key is lost.

That is where my heart lies.

In a lost key.


Had a hard time with this post. I just couldn’t think of anything! Oh well. Here it is now.

Check out today’s writing prompt here:

https://zoyakubra.wordpress.com/2017/09/23/october-writing-challenge/

Of Traveling and Thoughts.

Entering Lahore after a long journey, Lahore welcomes you on the Mall Road with a big "Welcome to Lahore" sign, right next to the University of Vetenary Sciences, the first major landmark on the Mall. This is also the saddest part of the journey out of Lahore, as after that the Lahore City ends. However, when we left Lahore this time, we didn't take the Mall Road. We were on it, and we saw the High Court, the GPO, GC university, the town hall to name a few of the classic buildings. But then we went on another road, so I never saw the "Goodbye" sign opposite the Vet University. If we had, we would then have found ourselves in Shahdara, which although is not part of the Lahore city, but part of the District Lahore. After that comes the river Ravi, or what is left of it anyway. The Ravi is a rather historic river but is now dried up. In fact, in an old mazmoon I had read, the writer had declared the Punjab (Punj meaning five and aab meaning water i.e. Land of The Five Waters or Rivers) as having only four and a half rivers, meaning the Ravi was only half a river. If he had been alive now, he would have declared Ravi to be a canal instead of a river. (Or a collection of puddles)
Nevertheless, that is not why I had decided to write. As you may have guessed, I am travelling. And leaving Lahore is so hard! No matter where I may live, my heart shall forever be here, in this city. I have been reading a book on Lahore which is a little boring to read, but it is full of information and has only increased my love for the city.
However, our journey does not end at Lahore. We are going North, so hopefully the weather will be nice! I need a break from this heat and humidity!
Traveling is not an issue for me. But all those hours in a car, with my little brother!! I had had a nice breakfast in the morning just so I wouldn't have to eat during the journey, because that makes me feel sick. And just as we left Lahore, the brother decided to have some crisps. And the packet was opened. The smell filled the air. Already, I had been trying to not think about the air in the car and how everyone was breathing in this limited space. But then the smell!! Every breath I took seemed to take the smell inside, all the way into my gut where my breakfast lay ready to come out via anti peristaltic movements. However, I survived. Then came the chewing. Endless chewing with an open mouth: the one thing I cannot stand. I tried to tell him once but he ignored me. Never mind, I told myself. Think of something else. And now he put the packet away and started biting his nails!! The other thing I absolutely cannot stand! However, I could not loose my cool. If I did, the journey would be ruined, and I didn't want that to happen.
At this point I decided to check where exactly was Chitral Gol National Park because that is also a place I would like to visit someday. However, my mobile internet was not working. Perfect! This network never failed to disappoint me. At this point I decided to update my dear readers (that's you) with my current situation. And that's about it.
Another thing I don't like about trips like these is the inevitability of the need of the bathroom by the human body. Anyways. I might do a "Hey There! Pt. 2" while I'm in the car. Or I might not. The Motorway is the most boring road in this country!
Wish me luck. Remember me in your duas.
Until next time,
Rab Rakhan.

That One Drop Of Water

That dusty yellow sand

Stretching out forever, relentlessly

no hope of ever seeing those

beautiful waterfalls, those green lands

The wanderer that wanders

Hoping to find a way out

Holding on for dear life

Dreading the Night for its horrors

but the Day, even more so

Hoping to find that one drop of water

And then suddenly, it appears

Out of nowhere, that one drop of water

And another, and another,

And a cloud hovers in the sky

And the drops join to form a river

And the mist forms a cold breeze

and the cloud covers the sun,

and the river gives new life

and so the wanderer finds his way

with strength anew,

to lands over yonder…

But that one drop of water,

that is what a Teacher is,

giving life to those who have no life

and guiding them to lands anew

Of those beautiful waterfalls, those green lands.