Archive for April, 2015

The agony is never of leaving or staying. Its all about the manner in which one stays and the way one leaves! The anguish is never of the thing that one lied its all about u trusted blindly! the ache is never of the fact that u know all its all about still u r being told half truths! the hurt is never about the point that u are not understood its all about that how one makes u feel that cause doesn’t matter! the pang is never about that u faced it all its all about that u are not grieving but suffering! the throes is never about that u changed its all about how u used to be and felt ur changes! the torment is never about one loses its all about the loss when u loved it more than ur own self! the woe is never about that u felt pain while being stitched its all about how many times the thread was broken and ur wounds were open!! the torture is never about that after stabbing one said sorry its all about how that stab was repeated and made u bleed nd choked u to death! the prick is never about that now u pretend urself it is all about that u do so because u don’t want sympatheis but the acceptance of wrong doings ! the misery is never about that u can’t do anything but to forgive its all about that u can’t forget ! The distress is never about that people break u its all about that they are no others but ur loved ones ! The crying is never about u are trying to fix it all its all about that its not working! the sadness is never about that u are sad its all about u want to b Happy!!

Mehreen Malik for Beyond Sanity Publishing


The dream left dismayed, The thoughts left entwined, Words you whispered stumbled to death. You hurtled your way, And I tried to wobble your way, But I knew you would never look back. The way I strive to call you here, The more you stressed your mind. I don’t know why these relations create such fuss, Like we promised to be each other’s, But the way you changed your mind, literally made me cry. Soon the bright days left our fortune, And the darkness pushed me in, I wish you’ll stay happy cause you got what you want, And may you further get everything, You heartily craved for.
Hareem Rizwan For Beyond Sanity Publishing
Art by Cidrah Usmani

 Life will knock you down,Relations will hurt you badly,Friends will criticize you enormously,Family will say a lot about your mistakes,People will look you, as you are from another planet,your complaints will be understood to a extent,your virtues will be regarded as your so called goodness for the sake of your repute,your flaws will be put forward highly magnified,Your emotions will be categorized as being over sensitive,when you ll be lost that’ll be said as your matter of routine,your aggressive behavior will be termed as your habit,your silence will be taken as advantage,Your response to somebody will be taken as your great interest,your ignorance will be called as rudeness..huh..They’ll try to have power on you every single time,you”ll be immensely criticized for your almost every attitude and every feeling.. But you are not the only one,everybody is dealing with their story of life..Everybody faces the darkness of different shades,everybody feels broken sometimes.. But the thing we have to do is to have a belief,to have a faith,to have a sense of consideration in every situation.. Don’t overgeneralize the one incident of life to every path you walk on.. Give yourself a chance like you give every other person a chance to hit on your vulnerabilities.. You are strong enough,you are surviving the damage, You have to live with the cicatrices,you have to meet yourself,don’t wait for somebody to come and heal you,understand you.. Start it with yourself,understand what you want.. Just be truthful and loyal to your very self,It’ll hurt but it’ll built your character and your soul, Encounter yourself not for the sake of denying,lying and projecting your miseries,but for the sake of confronting your faulty perceptions and exploring your inner that surely is holding a bright ray of light.. Confront that ray that is trying to come out but your miseries and Why me question is hindering it.. Darkness leads to light but neither deny the light from darkness and darkness from light.. Then the world cruelties will not mark you as hard as now.. Cherish the pain and every moment of your life !!

Mehreen Malik for Beyond Sanity Publishing

Art by Maham Batool


The Cartography of mourning cadre held candidly to scrutinize the amount of fleshy bones left .. I wonder if they accentuated the fear of being Normal out there.. The Poverty of souls are post defined and so the bygones,leaving qualms to cajoler ensuring the endures through very of their quiet resentment metaphors presenting us the most noble way of threatening ourselves with so called humor and callow weave. I complained the harassment of unusual truths roaming the earth,So now am accompanied by the Most quaint creature termed humans and followers by all Means offered bagatelle to steer the morals which bought them a ballot able suicide candor,I wish if I Could bless them a Balm suffocation of the sacred calumny to prove that they actually “Never Existed Ever”!!

I have faith in the silence .. !! I know what’s not Coming !! But I won’t steal the Hope !! I would rather offer them a barbaric truth for price .. And They Won’t be able to Choose the breaths for themselves !!

The interpreting wrongdoers-Zain Khan for Beyond Sanity Publishing

Dear folks pull your thoughts up for a few minutes, keep your mind clear. Let me take you to your subconscious, let go off your conscious for a minute or so. Read this but don’t you just skim it. It’ll be fun, a joy ride of past replaying in present. Trust me; it’s just you & me, none other than us. Isolate yourself from the anxieties of present & flow in the gaiety of past, remember the bliss of solitude, of which William Wordsworth talks about in his poem, ‘Daffodils’. Let it dawn over your mind, feel boundless, close your eyes & suffer yourself beneath the gaze of the distant sky. If your mind is clear go further if not read it once again from where it begun.

Did you read the title? Certainly you have, no doubt. What passed your mind when you read the title? Thoughts as that of history asleep in past anything about Kings or Queens or even anything about their era? Alike thoughts huh?  Or something else, whatsoever it is try & relate it, with the walls, save chronicles. Come on at least try, is it that hectic? Let me make it easy, it’s something very remarkable; it starts from your very house & ends in the same…

Oh! I admire you if have caught the clue, if not I still admire you. It’s our childhood for sure- starts from your very house & ends there. At this moment three things shall be occupying your mind- chronicles, childhood & walls, most probably. If not reconsider, arrange your thoughts to the above stated decorum.

Now consider just the walls, school walls or your own house (I would like to mention my childhood was dealt with white walls & perhaps I guess, no other color might have gave me memories vivid as 1080 pixels), there is a mischief of your childhood, which would have involved the walls, for instance writing on them; scribbling your first learnt letter on them, your first figure that the art teacher taught you. Indeed! There are, for there is no childhood without this simplest mischief.

We are done with childhood & walls, what’s left? Aha! The Chronicles. Well what is it? I think you know it. Those childhood adventures, childhood mischief, did you think of the same? Then several mischief of your childhood certainly erupted in your mind, hovering from one nerve to other. Hmmm! I can see, I can see. I see those eyes, those of your childhood glistening in your minds, peeking out to the heart which is breathing softly than it ever did. Feel the aura which is surrounding you this moment. Yayyy! The sprinting child, which you were in your childhood, is alive, see he is laying by your side, gazing at you with those infant eyes, murmuring to you some childhood memories. He can see the new him in “you”, as he the one evolved. Nevertheless, empty your minds again, but save the feelings.

The revelations & elucidations done- of the title, now recollect the three things again- chronicles, wall & childhood. Connect them altogether; make a connection of what this editorial may be all about. A rough image likely of scribbling on walls, figures made on them, etc. is it that? Yes it is, everything related to your childhood in respect to the walls spoiled, those are the chronicles of our childhood, based on your walls & my white walls (they maybe colored in your case but it won’t make any difference). Evidently you must be thinking what’s yet veiled, is it? The efforts of thinking had to be applied exclusively to the title hereafter it’s a tale of my ‘childhood chronicles’. You played your part it’s about time I play mine.

‘The White Wall Chronicles’ certainly something you never heard of, ain’t it? But it’s the something of which you too form a part, as you too might have done similar notorious acts. The White Walls are the walls of my very own house; in it it’s my very own room, embellished by means of the art, the remarkable scriptures, and those immature drawings which look as if prehistoric, drawings as that of cave men & things likewise. These Chronicles which I & my sister shared made my room a masterpiece as that of Da Vinci’s, a panorama of our childhood, tracing our infant minds.  My room is a picaresque book, painted by two siblings, on the “White Walls” of a mediocre house. The walls are plastered, thus white, although we made them look colorlessly cool.

I remember when my sister joined kindergarten, a few days later, she came back told me how her teacher had taught her to draw a “duck”, & I was like, ‘a duck?’ Perhaps, she still was flustered, she kept drawing it all day anywhere she could put pen to paper but I was somewhat inquisitive about why the walls were spared. Next day when I came back from school & entered to change, there was a fleet of ducks heading towards me. She stepped back & immersed herself into the chair accompanied by the indignant air; she sat watching with an eye of an artist, the drawing she had just finished. I was terrified & those ‘ducks’ afflicted me with agony; I could vividly imagine each reaction of my mother on witnessing this catastrophe. My prodigal sister, with a merry look & a stupefying wink scuttled out of the room leaving me to deal with mother. Even though mother was aware of the ‘accused artist’, I was still advised not to let her do it again. Although I tried extremely hard to make her stay away but it was never over, she always rejoiced over the vexation which I portrayed.  I was so tired that I began throwing tantrums over her follies, as it was never her, who was shacked up in the room. A week later after she was gifted by poster colors, she had numerous plans & as we know the white wall was the first of its kind nemesis to her amusement, undoubtedly it would prove a great canvas for her, probably.

Succeeding day, after I reached home, those ‘ducks’ looked more naive & lively, I wondered why & it was not a minute after I realized what had passed. The fleet was colored! & the imprints of her small round white hands were clearly visible, on top of it multicolored. This time there roused no need to throw a shabby tantrum as the ‘accused artist’ had left her imprints. I felt as if ‘Sherlock Holmes’ & paved my way down as fast as possible & summoned mother into the room. At this moment my expressions were mingled & possibly they can’t have a formidable expression.  I was curiously absorbed in the whole scene when to conceal my horrors my mother encouraged my sister that the drawing was everything she ever dreamt of & said to her “you have freedom but spare the walls, dear! They might turn into a sordid mess”. She patted her & left…I have no need to express the stupidity which fused in me, I was rather flustered. Blank & expressionless, with my mouth wide open, I stood there & squinted at my sister who in turn did the same sarcastically.

Incidents like that erupted a great deal till she graduated to 1st grade. I always was glad whilst she sat contemplating towards the wall, a chalk at hand, I could see her childlike eyes gleaming, on the thought of drawing something. Somehow by some means she would be well aware of the watchfulness I attended to at moments like this & she in vain would drop the chalk, but it wasn’t she always who took the pleasure herself. I myself did it numerous times but in secrecy. I myself added a ‘duckling’ to the fleet of ducks & a pond a day after.  She & I nailed our names on multiple both inside & outside the room.

We have parted from the fact of being a child or an adult, we lie somewhere in between, & things like that don’t suit now, it’s what mother says but who cares, when the ‘child’ takes over.

Ubair Fayyaz Fazli for Beyond Sanity Publishing

ISLAMABAD: As many as 30 media persons and civil society representatives were given Agahi awards at a ceremony held at the Pakistan National Council of the Arts (PNCA) on Saturday.

The third annual Agahi award distribution ceremony was jointly organised by NGOs, Agahi and Mishal.

Speaking on the occasion, the moderator of the event, Shamoon Hashmi, said since 1947 as many as 90 journalists had sacrificed their lives for the truth. On his request, a one-minute silence was observed in memory of the journalists who lost their lives in the line of duty.

Waleed Tariq of Newsline was given the award in the category of business and economy, Allah Bux from Umerkot in the category of water and food security and Sohail Yousuf from daily Dawn in the category of innovation.

In the category of corporate social responsibility, Imran Malik of PTV got the award. In foreign policy category, the award was bagged by Mubarak Zeb Khan of daily Dawn while Almas Naqvi of daily Dunya got the award in the category of democratic values.

Zahir Shah from Al Jazeera was awarded in the category of extremism and terrorism. Amber Rahim Shamsi of BBC Urdu got the award in the category of law and order. Umer Bin Ajmal from Dawn was awarded in the category of infotainment, Mureeb Mohmand of Express Tribune in the category of human rights and Mansoor Malik from Dawn won the award in the category of curriculum reforms.

Zahid Gishkori of Express Tribune was awarded in the category of sexual and reproductive health, Riaz Sohail from BBC Urdu in the field of interfaith, Lala Hassan of Dunya TV in the category of journalist safety and Mohammad Atif Sheikh from Express in the category of youth empowerment.

Nadeem Malik of Samaa TV was awarded as the most credible television anchor.

In the category of people’s choice, Mubasher Lucman of ARY was awarded as the most popular male anchor, Meher Bukhari of DawnNews as the most popular female anchor and Geo as the most popular TV channel.

Saleemur Rehman from Tribal Union of Journalists and Irfan Haider were awarded in the anti-corruption category. Naqeebullah Tareen was given the award in the category of sports, Anila Ashraf in the field of judiciary, Saba Aitzaz for his story on children dying in Thar, Khalid Khattak from The News in the field of education and Sehrish Wasif of Express Tribune was awarded in the field of out-of-school children.

Amir Zia of Newsline was awarded as the investigative journalist of the year. Moreover, Syed Babar Ali, Sultan Dogar, Fayaz Ahmed and Abdul Shakoor were also given awards in different categories.

Riaz Ahmed from Bunyad was awarded in the category of development, Musarat Misbah for providing refuge and treatment to women affected by acid attacks and Baela Raza Jamil from Idara Taleem-o-Aagahi in the category of development.

Yasir Khan, a youth from Khyber Agency, played Rubab in memory of the children killed in the terror attack on the Army Public School Peshawar.

All the participants stood up when Master Ayub was called to the stage to give away some of the awards.

Master Ayub, a civil defense official by profession, has been teaching children of slums in a park at Sector F-6 for the last 28 years.

Published in Dawn, April 26th, 2015

Original Article:

“Master tell of the illusions that exist”, asked a follower. Answered the master, “Beauty” The biggest of the illusions is what we call beauty; apparent and artificial. I will tell you what an illusion is; something you won’t understand, and yet you think you do. Ever seen a woman wearing precious jewels, ever seen the fancy clothes she covers herself with? There you are, deceived by the illusion that she created, you don’t happen to know her yet she seems beautiful to you, because this is your perception of beauty. You run after the illusion, you impure your heart for things that doesn’t happen to be real and yet you think you are the master. You follow the path that will lead you to nowhere and yet you follow it. No My dear, it’s not the beauty that I am against, it’s not the jewels or the clothes that worries me, my concern is what exists inside, who are you beneath this stealth that you wear at all times. Ask me if you may? People are so afraid to show themselves that they hide themselves underneath, the truth that defines them is hidden deep inside and you cannot see it because you are not God. Here is what I want you to know, “Beauty is an illusion, do not run after it or the ones who run after it, you will be strayed.”

Credits: Fahad Asif for Beyond Sanity Publishing

Graphics by Adnan Ali