Real Life Fairytale

The Girl who was always afraid;
As I sit down to write this piece today I keep thinking about the life that I have left behind. People came and people went and what a year can change in life is dawning on me so vividly it’s almost painful. Ive lived a simple life and it became relatively more simpler when I realized that there is a lot of power in my “yes” and “no”.
Some people come in your life like shadows. Some like sunshine. Then there are some people who feel like a chilled glass of water in a very hot June afternoon. They bring relief and a sense of fulfillment that is unmatched by anything in your life. My life-partner is just that.
He’s the goodie bag I always prayed for. My kind of chocolate; sweet with a thin layer of wafer in the middle. Someone that matched my crazy. Someone who had all kinds of flavors for me to try. Just not the bad ones.
Someone with whom I could wake up and not feel embarrassed. That someone who told me I was beautiful even when I had puffy under-eyes and was heavy with pregnancy. That someone who touched me in all the places where I thought I wasn’t pretty anymore because of stretch marks and pigmentation. In all those areas where I thought I could never be loved.
He’s the kind of someone that turned out to be my best friend. The man with whom I don’t have to think twice before speaking. The kind of man in front of whom saying sorry is easy. The one who believed in all my dreams, who told me I was worth it. Who stood by my side cheering me on and bucking me up even when I knew that I was going to fail. Who said its never too late to try again. I know that if I ever hurt him Ill be hurting myself more and if I hurt me, I’ll hurt him even more than that.
So simple and plain yet so full of life is this man that I call my life partner. He’s always ready for adventures and expeditions. Loves trying out new things. He would rather devour local food than order in any place fancy. Sitting at a dhabba and eating daal chawal on the roadside in Azad Kashmir will appeal more to him than staying at PC Bhurbhan. He always forgets to give me the last bite of his food even when I ask him to. Now I take my bite before he gets a chance to finish it. We stay even this way.
He calls it a partnership of 50-50. He have the same likes but different ones too so everything is always 50-50. Conversation never gets boring with him. He is quite different than most. Someone who has the biggest heart full of so much kindness I sometimes feel it might explode. He is all stuff my dreams are made of. Oh and he thinks that only blue jeans are important.
And of course my smile.
Now I’m not so afraid anymore.

P.s: Its going to be 10 most amazing months MashAllah of being married and I still cant get enough. Alhamdulilah.



There were violins playing in the background.

Remember when we used to sit in the library at night and talk about the weirdest dreams we had had the night before? There was a certain kind of comfort in knowing that there was someone with you; it was like having a best friend you said.

You came around a full circle. And then you changed your colors and maybe it was the thought of losing something that you took for granted or maybe it was because things were going too fast for you, you turned on me and lashed out at me like I was some kind of a punching bag that you needed to let out your steam. I am not. And I could see all that depression and all that helplessness but you can’t unsay what you said and you can’t undo what you did. And even if I tell myself you’re a good person on the inside, suddenly you scare me.

I could say sorry, I could say I didn’t know. But nothing I say will make any difference. It won’t change the reality that your person is gone. And that you need to move on because life and everything with it has changed. There will be no more sneaking into libraries and sitting on the desks and pouring your heart out moments. There will be no sharing of dreams and fears anymore. There will be no more time when I’d sit with your hand in mine and tell you it’s going to be okay as your best friend.

The violins have stopped playing.

Everlasting Togetherness.

Another long stretch of silence here. Maybe it’s because I haven’t had a moment to sit down and catch up with life these past few weeks. So much has happened and so much is yet to happen that the whole process of it is over-whelming. Many chapters of my life have been completed and a whole new one – the biggest there is – has begun. And I’m scared. I’m scared because I am so happy that it’s hard to believe at times. You can’t be this happy and not wonder when it’s going to end. I pray it never does.

As I sit here and think of how life has turned out, I am thankful of everything that has happened. So much of what I have been through could have been avoided but I guess it was the process that I needed to go through to become the person that I am. My faith in destiny and my faith in the saying that everything happens for a reason has been strengthened deeply.

You wouldn’t wait and I didn’t want this to become a routine. Yet each time you went out that door, my heart paced a little faster, just enough for me to know that something was missing. So when you came back home, I had to string into words what you mean to me and how much so that you never forget how important you are to me and that maybe that would make me as important too. But each time I said something about how I felt, this dread came creeping up my spine, that maybe it’s too much or that maybe it might ring false to you and instead of me getting “there” I’d just push you away. That every word may overwhelm you to the extent of becoming a burden. I have always been bad at judging people and I don’t know what this will turn out to be.

Would you be a friend to me? When life gets tough and I have no one to turn to, would you listen to my unsaid words, my bickering and whining? I keep thinking that maybe you would and if you didn’t it would break my heart. And with each passing day I will drift away into an abyss of silence. But why do I always assume that the worst is going to happen? I don’t know you that well, maybe that’s why. Because above the exterior of confidence, there’s this girl who knows nothing of relationships and the world.

That day we shared a table and that song. Another day after, we shared a table and a physical connection. We have yet to share our secrets and our childhood memories. And so much more. One step at a time; small baby steps. And maybe one day your scent will become second nature to me and when I’ll touch you it’ll be familiar and calming instead of electrifying and unnerving. I could sit there for hours and hear you speak but more than that I want to be comfortable during that silence that will follow when we’re done speaking. We will get there, eventually.

I can’t sit still but I can’t let you see me fidget either. I hold my hands together and I look down at my lap while you talk and gaze at the contours of my face. My eyes shine but I won’t let you see it. I am vulnerable to you and my soul is bare but it’ll take you awhile to know just how bare my soul is. I will give you my all.

The clinking of glass and china, the laughter of a woman who was trying too hard, the smoke of cigars and cigarettes, with all those questionable stares around us and I have a heart up my sleeve just for you.996803_603977932975601_1611045216_n




Half life. 

Let me kiss your feet today. 

Let me hold your head in my arms and feed you like poison ivy. Let me love you. 

Stroke. Caress. Hold. Kiss. Lick. Beat. Smash. Break. Fall. 

If i had the power of both the worlds, I’d take away your pain. And give you the taste of mine. I’d give you the pain of my longing for you. 

So that you know how it feels to break from within while healing another. That’s how prophets are made. I’d make a prophet out of you. 

Tender. Soft. Subtle. Tender. Pain. Calor. Dolor. Rubor. Stone. 

You will never know my pain. You can’t fathom. You are not here. 

I’d love you like a thousand suns. I’d hold you close and ease your mind. I’d give you peace while I stab my heart. 

You will be free. 


A friend once said, “It’s not just the heartache. It’s an ultimate insult. It’s the turn-around that is unacceptable. You know, one day you have someone in the palm of your hand, and the next, they are invincible. There they are, like a challenge. So much out of reach, and so sure about their paths being separate from ours that our reluctance to accept the shifting paradigms brings us down to our knees.”

There are kinds of love that can break a person’s spine. The kinds of love that turn us all into begging blabbering leeches. You stick to that person until you can stick to them no more. You refuse to leave. And one day, there’s this ‘slap’ that comes out of nowhere. They pry you off themselves in a way that you don’t know what hit you. There you realize that this needs to end. Its vicious, what you’re going through but you can’t go through more than that. It has to end because if it doesn’t you’d turn to dust.

After a while you learn the subtle difference between holding a hand and chaining a soul, and you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning and company doesn’t mean security. And you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts and presents aren’t promises. After a while you learn that you can’t destroy yourself beyond a certain point, that you need to water your garden yourself in the long periods of drought, that no one, no one you need, will come and rescue you.

It won’t stop. It won’t change. It won’t be the same anymore. Suddenly she is so tired and so done. It takes every ounce of strength to carry herself as if she does not live in hell.



Ignorance. Bliss. The ultimate fate. The reason. Of everything. You know you own me.  And that is what you exploit. And that is how you play. I choose to ignore. Bliss.

The stones in my shoes. The dirt in my hair. Does it tell you how much I’ve traversed the hard times? Don’t you know if eternity is mine then so are you? Are you?

As i beg and plead and I kneel down on my knees, what makes you so sure of yourself? It’s only the confidence that I give you. The love that you see in my eyes. That’s what makes you so sure of yourself.
Don’t break me.

Break me. If only to be in your arms.



As you start growing up, you start realizing that nothing is ever permanent; how you have to keep struggling for the things you have so that you can keep them. Same goes for relationships, people, friends and so many other things that we used to think were a part of our lives – innocence and a pure pure heart.

Jee Main Ata Hai Tere Daaman Main Sar Jhuka K

Hum Rotay Rahein, Rotay Rahein…

Today was a happy day. I had accomplished something. No, its way more than something. It’s a milestone. Another chapter of my life written and closed, done and dusted for. Suddenly, each passing minute has started making me nauseous. I don’t want the time to pass by. I want it to stop. The unknown is so damn scary. How can anyone jump into that abyss and call it an adventure. Doesn’t it scare you? Looking into the beyond where nothing is in your control? Is there anything ever in our control? This scares me. You scare me. Suddenly I feel so alone.

It was a crazy night. There was the river, the bank of the river, us and fireworks. We were walking, arms entwined, steps in perfect harmony, quiet. When I looked at you, I saw an image so divided and multiplied that it shattered my gaze into a million pieces and just when you looked at me, I averted my gaze, looking towards the midnight sky. Past the midnight strolls and long stretches of quiet walks in the parks, we were just two strangers waiting for our stars to bump into each other. It never happens.

So many words choke on my lips with things I needed to say but I knew it would make no sense to you. Oh, how I knew you will never understand. You have my heart but my mind is so tired of trying to make you see. It’s like we are in this remarkable parody. It’s as if we are meant to repeat the same mistakes over and over again. But this is another day, and I have to live with this other version of your story, another deceit and another disappointment all over again. Somebody told me that it was okay to mourn the loss of love and life. I haven’t even started.

Right after the fireworks by the river, right after the walks of midnight life, right after the untangling of arms, right after another night of silence between us, right after slowly dissolving into nothing, right after breaking down from within, you retract into oblivion and walk away and I pretend that I don’t care.


mareatalha's Blog

Saturated in your filthy words , I feel okay, still. It’s not like I’m brand new. Scratch less or stainless from before. I wear it all, it’s scarred deep in me. Each and every blow of his and yours.
You pick one shard of sharp, broken glass and you scratch your intent each time, then you wipe the oozing blood with your palms , pat me on my cheek and smile. You grant yourself a petty excuse and then you try to apologise.
I have no other route to go, sometimes I dwell too much , other times I just let go. But once in a while when I feel okay , these wretched stains and scratches tickle me, I then look down and I recall, each bruise, each shove and every fall. Everything looses its touch, and then they say I complain too much.
Is any thing ever enough…

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