Posts Tagged ‘life’

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  • Tell us about yourself?

I think it’s the most difficult question as still, I need to know a lot about myself. I belong to a middle-class family brought up by decent parents and I am grateful to them. I completed my primary from Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. At a young age left for Pakistan and completed my Medical training as a doctor.  My first write-up was rather an opinion for how to keep city clean which came out in Dawn’s Young World. After that was busy in studies. I started writing again though with fits and starts from 2013

  • Why did you choose to write poetry?

I think it’s like poetry chose me, this genre of writing was new for me too and u will be surprised to know that I have lots of books which adorn my shelf and borrowed from friends too but none is the book of poetry. Though if I was reading poetry as part of my grade course I would be mesmerized with words.

  • When did you start working on your book?

I was writing mainly for relaxation just to vent out my feelings but credit for it goes to some of my colleagues who after reading my poems so much liked it that they encouraged me to go for a compilation of my writings and that’s how it came in my mind. I submitted poems in two competitions for one I was selected among commendable writers. I then compiled and sent a rough draft around April 2016 and there was no looking back.

  • Who are you currently reading?

I am currently reading the book version of  “Miss Peregrine’s Home for The Peculiar Children” penned by Ransom Riggs. It’s a light fantasy read.

  • How do you manage to write with your profession keeping you busy?

I think it’s a lot about prioritising. As my profession takes up a lot of my time. I feel for some poetry is practiced and learned but for me, its borne out of situations I see, feel or experience so I cannot particularly slot time that this time is for writing poetry. It depends on my mood.

  • Tell us about your upcoming book?

My upcoming book is “Reneging Quiescence”, the concoction of different experiences and common message in one way or other and that is a refusal to be silenced by wrong things. Sometimes we are aggressive in certain situations to criticise but where we can really help we just turn a blind eye.

  • What are your plans for this book?

I hope this book is able to reach out to maximum readers out there and also help those who are not voracious readers but can read it to get an inspiration. It will be released on Amazon and Kindle first, and then as a paperback.

  • Why do you think the culture of book reading declining in Pakistan?

There are obvious reasons like education being too much expensive so increase in illiteracy, from childhood not encouraged to read books, different aspects of social media like the net ,- television to keep families occupied so no one interested. Book fairs are being arranged in Karachi where a lot of old books exchanged but usually fewer crowds are willing to stand beneath the sun to buy books.

  • Do you prefer E-book or Paperback?

For me, the magic of Paper book cannot be compared with an Ebook ever. At Least for now and maybe in the future. Sitting on the computer for a long time is also damaging for eyes, your posture also.

  • As a writer and a poet, what is your message to the world?

My message to the world is happy it’s your right as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone. Don’t stop dreaming. Be good where every where there seems to be so much rush its like time has bought us.

N remember as I said before AS WE LABEL THE SKY SO WE SET ITS LIMITS.

I want to thank Irum CEO of the publishing house and an  author in her right for asking me for her blog interview.

You can buy her book by placing an order here: beyondsanitybooks@gmail.com

Know more about her Here.

Know about Beyond Sanity Publishing 

There’s a tale, a tale buried under the constellation of maps draping on my flesh, it’s hidden in my pale ( fractured ) bones about a boy who fell in love with the sun. It’s a tale ( a myth to be precise ) about a boy with eyes so dark they could consume your heart and spit it on heated pavements, it’s about a boy with wild curls that he wears flowers in.
The boy was twelve when his mother used to braid (or weave I don’t remember) stories of the immortal bleeding sun and weeping stories of burning gods and goddesses and how their hearts had been punched so many times they couldn’t be counted on fingers, why burning the boy had asked pieces of puzzles peeking into his dark eyes, the mother never answered ( perhaps the gods had devoured her once apricot heart with rushing flames ).
The boy was thirteen he created castles made of dollar bills and crowns made of stolen jewels why do you steal my boy his mother asked him on a dreary evening father has carved it into my flesh oh dear mother. The boy was thirteen and instead of kicking balls under the sun kissed sky he was  skipping in people’s backyards under the teary moon. The boy was thirteen when he wished his fate wasn’t carved into his flesh.
The boy was fourteen when his sister had thorns in her hair, she’d tell him about the immortal ambrosia coated lips ( they tasted like the sugar melted on yellow fire ) and rich ( golden bright golden ) ichor dripping from the skin of their tongues, how did you know their lips tasted sweet the boy had asked ( curiosity always sat on the tips of his eyelashes and the creases of his lips ) no they had always tasted like honeyed sorrow and sugar-coated kisses.
The boy was fifteen and his wild curls started to go limp and press against his cheeks, the boy was fifteen when his mother used to choke up dust and blood into thin tissues and his cheeks would stay damp throughout the night, he’d stay beside his mother’s bed and read stories about never ending lives of empty-chested immortals, I wish you were immortal mother his voice lacked rest and his eyes drooped with sleep, oh no my dear I would tear apart the skin from my flesh and the flesh from my  bones before I empty my soul of humanity and memories.
The boy was seventeen and there was a six feet deep hole in the damp brown earth, a crater in which his mother rested eyes closed ( there was blood and grime under her eyelids, his heart had buzzed with a hope of his mother’s eyelids being coated with sunshine tears and tingling water droplets ). The boy was seventeen when he wished he could drag out his mother from under her coffin and have her hands run through his dark curls. The boy was seventeen when his tears flooded the soil
The boy was eighteen when he fell in love with the immortal sun with the amber eyes that ignited with fire and crackled with rising embers, with flushed cheeks and hair spun with gold, the boy was eighteen when he dreamt  of kissing those bronze cheeks and rose lips, the boy was eighteen when he dreamt of swallowing the sun and feeling it burn and chew his stomach into ashes.
The boy was nineteen when he collected broken and forgotten feathers from dirty floor, he was eighteen when he cleansed the feathers with honey and water dripping from his fingers onto his brown palms, the boy was nineteen when he melted was from candles onto his calloused palms and he would paste the feathers with was together until his hands would ache and fingers would bleed. ( He wants to escape the mortal world ). The boy was nineteen when his soften into the soil he walks on. It’s filthy his father mocks.
Icarus ( the wild-haired boy ) is twenty one and he’s flying near to the sun. Icarus’s twenty-one and he’s kissing the sun ( the sun is repeating his name like it’s a holy prayer on the sun’s lips and Icarus is a God ) and, oh, the sun’s lips are ripe flesh and they taste like poetry. Icarus’s lips are red and raw and they are cracking open with ichor, is he a god the sun thinks.
Their names are repeating prayers on each other’s lips.

Hamnah Manfood for Beyond Sanity Publishing

Peace is proving to be one of the most endangered elements on our dear planet these days.
Why? Because instead of tolerance and patience, we are choosing to fight, ignore and blame each other.
Every day more of us become victims of extremism and violence. 

Peace, something the whole word is craving for at the moment. In a world like this, where seasons go by, loved one’s bid farewell and the innocent blood goes worthless- we need a break. To be more precise, we owe a lot to this world. Yet, we sit back and let it deteriorate gradually. Why?

Indifference is productive as long as things are not under one’s control but, when they are, why don’t we contribute some part?

This world is heading towards an unfathomable end. The earth weeps each day when a drop of innocent blood hits the ground. The Mother Nature- the trees, herbs, and shrubs, the mountains and seas; complain mankind for each wound Humans inflict upon them.

Pakistan is a third world country. Incompetent in a lot of areas, but illiteracy itself is not the factor behind it. Terrorism is at its peak in Pakistan. People have even forgotten what peace is like? In fact, we hardly remember when was the last time we witnessed peace in our country.

The one thing every culture, every artist, every tradition, every musician, every nation promotes is Peace. This world needs to focus on the significance of tolerance and peace because that is what transforms our decisions in the real world. We step according to the political stability, economic stability, finances etc. but most of all, if we see ourselves surrounded by components that invoke extremism or terror rather than peace and harmony, we are reluctant to take any decision. 

Unfortunately, it is not just about Pakistan but all other countries around the globe where roots of barbarism are spreading deeper and deeper. In this situation, at least we, the youth of Pakistan, need to pull in the reins and start working towards eliminating violence as much as possible. Be it through writing, workshops, processions or social media promotion. In a nutshell, peace has to prevail and the opposite has to be annihilated.

We are not perfect, we rely on our perceptions and studies to determine how we ‘SHOULD’ act, or how we CAN bring peace when what we really should be doing is looking at ourselves and how we can change our surroundings by changing OURSELVES. 

‘Gnothi Seauton’

(Greek) ‘Know Thyself’

Article by Beyond Sanity Publishing for Peace Without Borders

STOCKHOLM, Oct 13 (Reuters) – Bob Dylan, regarded as the voice of a generation for his influential songs from the 1960s onwards, has won the Nobel Prize for Literature in a surprise decision that made him the only singer-songwriter to win the award.

The 75-year-old Dylan – who won the prize for “having created new poetic expressions within the great American song tradition” – now finds himself in the company of Winston Churchill, Thomas Mann and Rudyard Kipling as Nobel laureates.

The announcement was met with gasps in Stockholm’s stately Royal Academy hall, followed – unusually – by some laughter.

Dylan’s songs, such as “Blowin’ in the Wind,” “The Times They Are a-Changin’,” “Subterranean Homesick Blues” and “Like a Rolling Stone” captured a spirit of rebellion, dissent and independence.

More than 50 years on, Dylan is still writing songs and is often on tour, performing his dense poetic lyrics, sung in a sometimes rasping voice that has been ridiculed by detractors.

Some lyrics have resonated for decades.

“Blowin’ in the Wind,” written in 1962, was considered one of the most eloquent folk songs of all time. “The Times They Are A-Changin’,” in which Dylan told Americans “your sons and your daughters are beyond your command,” was an anthem of the civil rights movement and Vietnam War protests.

Awarding the 8 million Swedish crown ($930,000) prize, the Swedish Academy said: “Dylan has the status of an icon. His influence on contemporary music is profound.”

Swedish Academy member Per Wastberg said: “He is probably the greatest living poet.”

Asked if he thought Dylan’s Nobel lecture – traditionally given by the laureate in Stockholm later in the year – would be a concert, replied: “Let’s hope so.”

Over the years, not everyone has agreed that Dylan was a poet of the first order. Novelist Norman Mailer countered: “If Dylan’s a poet, I’m a basketball player.”

Sara Danius, Permanent Secretary of the Nobel Academy, told a news conference there was “great unity” in the panel’s decision to give Dylan the prize.

Dylan has always been an enigmatic figure. He went into seclusion for months after a motorcycle crash in 1966, leading to stories that he had cracked under the pressure of his new celebrity.

He was born into a Jewish family but in the late 1970s converted to born-again Christianity and later said he followed no organized religion. At another point in his life, Dylan took up boxing.

Dylan’s spokesman, Elliott Mintz, declined immediate comment when reached by phone, citing the early hour in Los Angeles, where it was 3 a.m. at the time of the announcement. Dylan was due to give a concert in Las Vegas on Thursday evening.

Literature was the last of this year’s Nobel prizes to be awarded. The prize is named after dynamite inventor Alfred Nobel and has been awarded since 1901 for achievements in science, literature and peace in accordance with his will. 

Article by The Huffington Post. Read it Here

Lets play fair
Love me, love me not
Take a blood red rose
So pretty soft and tenuous
With full of irritants
Do you feel anything different?
How every thorn cutting your fingers from within out 
Have you ever seen this?
When pretty things change into worse 
From fruits to flames 
Rewards to horrors
Angels to demons
Smiles to sadness
Have you ever experienced?
When everything gets rough like an addiction 
Or someone did black magic 
Now pluck every petal with brutality 
And read it loud with clarity 
One by one, together
Love me, love me not
And feel the aching of cruelty 
That’s how people get plucked from each other
Turned dark
Tainted
And
Cold blooded person
While swallowing the reality.

Maham Fatima for Beyond Sanity Publishing

 

It is exciting to see people with talent and the will to write joining hands to create beautiful art and literature.

That being said, I announced last year that Beyond Sanity Publishing is accepting submissions for a paperback anthology of the best work submitted. Last date to submit was May 31st. So right now I am going through hundreds of different poems and stories to see what comes where. I will announce the final list on In July!

So that leaves us with little over a week. way too much to do, so little time. Beyond Sanity Publishing is currently working on the following projects:

  • The Youth Of Pakistan by Hafiza Noor.ul.Ain
  • Psychaotic by Irum Zahra (2nd Edition)
  • The Tales of Crucified Blunt by Areesh Fatmee
  • Five Wishes and the prophecy of the prince by Faran Kiani
  • Out of the labyrinth by Zoha Hidayat and Saja Ali
  • Reneging Quiescence by Dr. Samiha Zubair
  • Eliminating Riba- A Way Forward by Summan Waseem

Many other projects are in pipeline as well, including my personal favorite, Humans of ICG. I studied in Islamabad College for girls for 12 years and it was a long long time. I learnt so much and I went through so many emotional changes during that time. ICG was and is a place where we made friends, had endless gossip sessions, motivational pep talks sessions, Oh and the students week was the best of all. Funfairs, concerts, book fairs. What was not there?

Sadly, not me anymore. Everyone graduated and then their sisters are there and their cousins and the cycle goes on. The story goes on. So I decided to make a Facebook platform where everyone who has attended ICG can submit a story of their time in ICG and other students can read and share and relate to the same things. This project is lead by Maham Fatima, an excellent student of ICG and a very important member of Team Beyond Sanity.

We have also started a giveawayEnter Here! winner will get a free BOOK from us and an Eid gift! How cool is that. 

Then, we are currently taking submissions for book reviews ans marketing. If you’re already a published writer, let us help you in promoting your work to our audience.

Highlight of this week is Noor.ul.ain’s National Television Interview, that you can watch Here.  We are so proud of her. To order her book, please drop an email at beyondsanitybooks@gmail.com

SUMMERS! Send us your summer book collection. we want to know what you’e reading.

Have fun!