My Diary Story One

Sidra Mahmood Khan

Today is 4 May 2020. Entire World is tied in COVID19 Lockdown … and I am no exception. My life is equally threatened and scary as for the people around the globe during this pandemic. Mind is a strange thing, apparently, controlling everything, but full of bullshit too, once it hallucinates in a jiffy.

Half-filled coffee mug is lying on my table and I am scrawling this article, seemingly, there is nothing in my mind which I wanted to compose, but at the same time, there is a hell broken loose in my mind where I want to jot down so many things. Well, yeah, at least I will send this to ‘Chintu’. The funny part is that I myself christened for this nick, otherwise the actual name is cute and not even close to it. Okay, you may say, it can be a secret name, as Chintu is among those souls and spirits which are dragging and pushing me to remain alive, otherwise my body and soul are briskly travelling towards a zombie life. There, I am again falling in the vortex of severe depression mode and Chintu is fired up with the energies to pull me out of it. Chintu is a complete package of many great abilities and muses. To write about it, I need a relax mind, may be some other day … not now!

In my apartment, one of the girls came back from mental hospital today, as last week, she had a severe depression attack and had to be taken to the hospital in emergency. When I learned about her, I forgot about my sufferings for a while. People are constantly belligerent round the clock in the World for love and life. How strange! Now, being eldest in the apartment, I am the one who is consoling her the most. Later on, I cried my heart out after breaking Ramazan fast (Iftar). I went outside the room, and started crying, missing my parents and siblings gravely. Dialed my mother twice but she did not pick. Then randomly dialed to my elder sister. She was busy in preparing Iftar as it was about time and my choice of time to make the call was wrong. I was crying but perhaps, she could not realize it immediately. I broke down as I could not control my emotions. There she felt it and started soothing me that I should keep my trust in Allah, and that I could call her any time. This decision of coming abroad was my own choice so I should be ready for any kind of circumstances. I gathered myself and came back to my room. Again, I came across that girl and started consoling and counseling her, raising her morale, giving her comfort, strength and positivity which usually Chintu extends to me. How strange, and ironic that I myself am going through depression, asking Chintu to listen to me and here, how confidently I was doing the same and trying to make her stout.

Right now, my headache is getting severe, my soul is badly ruptured, yet, gathering all my energies and trying to focus. At times, I am found kicking my own butt to remain on course and murmuring ‘this too shall pass’. At times, I become as brave as a Cornered Tiger and scared as a pigeon in nest. Last night, the tone of my tutor was quite harsh, and I simply could not digest it. He merely sensed that I wasted the entire time and apparently did nothing. How easy it was for him to say when he could never realize my ongoing situation. Perhaps, being a professional he expressed what he felt. How strange, being equipped with so much sensations and intellect, no one can observe what the other person is going through…or maybe, they just do not want to. Studies, theories, sciences, nothing could reach to the cognition of human mind. Let’s leave all behind and raise the flags of positivity and lend a hand to those who need us. For us, someone, somewhere, is waiting!

Duur aik gaaon hay

Wahan Thandi Chaaoun Hay

Behti Nadeeya Hai

Jaana Hay Nadeeya Ke Paar

  • Mera Bicchhrra Yaar

(There is a village afar, shadowed with cool shade,

A stream runs through in middle, have to pass across it)

  • A Lost Friend of Mine- Copied

The writer is a contributor for Bolan Tribune

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