Writer's Clan

Storms and Tranquility

Part Two

She counted the scars on me while I pretended to count the city lights to distract myself from her touch. She says smile is the ailment to all the pain we have within ourselves. So I always smile at her with broken, stitched lips with the hope that may be my smile heals her pain like her smile heals mine. I had lost all faith in worldly relationships until I met her. It all made sense at once. All the great loses I have had in life is worth this one win I have in the facade of a best friend. No, it isn’t love attraction. Neither are we love struck. We are pain struck like so many people of this generation. We are just lucky enough for this once in life that we connected to each other like each nerve of mine connected to hers. I had believed someone could understand me only if they had my mindset but she came throwing reality onto me like a rock. She said its not the mentality that connects, its the stories that do. I had believed scars only rot us as a person and she showed me how scars could beautify us as a person. I was taught to keep my things to myself and be insecure of what I have. She comes off as a person, I want to let free and still be secured of having her for a lifetime. I believe its our pain that found each other so we could share it with each other. She is a mind of infinity talking about destinies.

“In the end, we all leave it up to destiny,

It’s our tryst with the destiny.”she said.

~Simran. Riyaz

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All About the Lens

Azaadi ko kiska khauf hai?

Picture by Samra Rizvi

मैंने देखें हैं वो मुस्कुराते ख्वाबों को खिड़की की जाली से झाँकते हुऐ। इस बंद खिडक़ी पर उनके नारों की खटखटाहट मुझे पुकारते हुऐ, “ये वक़्त अज़ादी माँगता है!”

इस वक़्त के सामने आने में मुझे डर लगता है। ये वक़्त आक्रोष से घुर्राता है,कभी बौखला सा जाता है,कभी नफरत के जुनून में ख़ून ख़ून हो जाता है। फिर अपने करतूतों की सफाई मेरे नाम से देता है।

“आज़ादी के नाम पर.” मैंने सुना उसको कहते हुए।

मुझे रहने दो छुपे इस खिड़की की आड़ में; ऐसे वक़्त के हवाले अपने आप को करने से मुझे डर लगता है।

Translation

I have seen those Hopes peeking through the latticed screen, smiling at me. I have heard their ardent cry knocking on my closed window, calling out to me, “This Time wants Freedom”

But I am afraid; afraid to face this Time. The Time which is growling with rage, sometimes running wild with insanity, drugged with hatred and draped in blood. And after all this, It will cleanse itself adhering my name with it.

“In the name of Freedom.” I heard It said.For that, let me stay hidden behind these closed windows. I am afraid to surrender myself to the Time you are in.

Writer's Clan

Down the forest path

She had promised herself not to travel in a car after the accident she had witnessed. But here she was, in an SUV, right in the middle of a forest, with four others, one of which, was her elder sister. Being the youngest, aged 15, couldn’t refuse the invitation. It was 6:00 am and were still in the car, with no phone reception. Daisy had no choice but to engage herself with the outside view. Mountain roads made her nothing but more anxious and everyone in the car except her slept soundly. They weren’t able to find a place to stay at night, and yet everyone seemed unbothered. “Adults” Daisy thought “Only God can understand what they do”.

Feeling suffocated, she stepped out of the car and looked for landmarks before wandering off. Among all the trees that surrounded them, she spotted a small sign at a distance. While she started walking towards it, she wondered who put it over there right in middle of a forest. As the leaves and the branches beneath her rustled, she moved in close to the sign. It was rusted and looked like it was easily around 70-80 years old. ‘Bunny
Burrow’ the sign read. “What?” she whispered to herself and rolled her eyes and started moving ahead, in hopes of finding phone reception.

She didn’t realize when she wandered into this deserted colony. It was a small town in a circular shape. All the houses spread out in perfect blocks from the center. From the top, it looked like one giant cake with pieces cut
into triangles. It seemed to be built around an enormous rabbit statue which seemed too real to be stationery. It was almost 2’5” and had a green gem embedded in its chest. It held a cane in its hand and wore a black hat and circular glasses. The town was relatively clean and empty. It was deserted, yet everything was in a perfect condition as if people lived there but only that, they weren’t there for some reason.

She now had phone reception and her phone suddenly buzzed several times consecutively. She glanced at the screen and slid it into her pocket as she stepped closer to the statue, in a way, as if making sure it isn’t alive. Mesmerized by it, she reached out and gently placed her finger on the green gem embedded near the chest.
“Ah!” the statue gasped, suddenly coming into color. Her eyes widened as the rabbit jumped down from the podium, the green gem still attached to its chest which seemed to be the only thing he had on.

“Oh, oh! Thank you, thank you! Young lady.” He hopped and grabbed her hand, pulling it down. He shook it vigorously.

“You’re….. Welcome?”

She said not believing the sight of the 2 foot tall, talking bunny who seemed to have a British accent. He noticed her widened gaze and looked down at himself “Oh Sweet Easter Bunny!” he said as if in disbelief while covering himself with his paws.

“Lower your gaze would you? Where are my clothes?”

Daisy squinted at him “clothes? You wear clothes?”

“Oh dear miss, please excuse me but we too have some code of decency! I apologize, for now I have to leave.”

He said as he took a few steps to the right and scurried off. She glanced at the podium nameplate which lay empty after ‘Mr.’

“Daisy!” her sister called. She turned around to see her sister’s agitated face and the three of her friends, two guys and a girl panting behind her. “Ellen! Look at this place!” Daisy yelled. Her sister squinted with a worried expression “You’re… You’re in the middle of a forest. There is literally nothing here.”

Daisy turned around and looked at the trees as she got dragged away by her sister. “It wasn’t a dream.” she said to herself as she saw the 28 texts and 5 missed calls when her phone didn’t have a signal.

All About the Lens

एक नज़र

Picture by Wajiha Haider

क्या ताक रही हैं तू इधर, ऐ ज़िंदगी;
क्या अपने गुरूर को इज़ाफा देने के लिए नज़र गड़ाई हैं
या मुझे दी गई नेमत पर तुझे लालच आई हैं?