A Letter To The Rain

This one is related to the recent floods in Pakistan due to excessive Monsoon rains.

It would be worth an effort if it touches even a single heart of the affected people and strengthen their spirits.

Dear Rain,


You might be mighty then us. You took away our homes, our lands, our crops and everything we owned. 
You ruined everything that we made working hard all these years. There is water everywhere, still we don't have clean water to drink. Contagious diseases are rampant due to floods. We lost our loved ones in the floods and didn't had the dead bodies to give them a decent burial. 
We are left with nothing to wear, nothing to sleep on and nothing to eat. 


But you know what, you can never take one thing from us, our hope and strength are still high. If we made our homes before, we will make them again. It's true that our eyes are filled with tears but we haven't forgotten how to smile. 
We might be poorly fed, homeless and weather stuck but we know how to thank Allah in all the conditions. We have faith that one day it will all be fine. 
We are the nation that knows very well how to rise from our own ashes, our history witnesses it and believe us, time and world will witness our rise again Insha Allah.


                                                                                                                            Pakistanis

We Strike for a Srtike

If you have any demand gather everyone you know and go on a strike. Thats the latest trend of Pakistani society. Whether it be doctors, transporters, oil pump and CNG pump owners. We are a nation who love to shut the work, protesting against government policies. 
While our beloved government continues to act as deaf as long as people gather outside parliament house so the the authorities can Actually see them and appreciate their presence. 


People wait outside government hospitals wishing they hadn't came such a long way just to know that the doctors are on strike telling their pain:
" Look pain! Doctors are on strike, come back later when its over"


The Awaam stands at bus stands waiting for the buses to come, only to know that transport is on "strike". The laborers working on the per day wages tell their kids:
"Children! you shouldn't eat for a day or two as its a strike you see"


Our bureaucracy continues to dream in the sleep of ignorance while our distinguished officials lower the automatic windows of their shiny, bulletproof cars and say "Oh it's a strike, take a u turn driver, lets go back to our air conditioned sanctuaries" and we all keep striking hard and hard for a strike.. 

© Rabea Kamran

A Little Thought

This is another share that was worth sharing...


Pencil: I'm sorry

Eraser: For what? You didn't do anything wrong.


Pencil: I'm sorry because you get hurt because of me. Whenever I made a mistake, you're always there to erase it. But as you make my mistakes vanish, you lose a part of yourself. You get smaller and smaller each time.


Eraser: That's true. But I don't really mind. You see, I was made to do this. I was made to help you whenever you do something wrong. Even though one day, I know I'll be gone and you'll replace me with a new one, I'm actually happy with my job. So please, stop worrying. I hate seeing you sad.


I found this conversation between the pencil and the eraser very inspirational.


Parents are like the eraser whereas their children are the pencil. They're always there for their children, cleaning up their mistakes. Sometimes along the way, they get hurt, and become smaller / older, and eventually pass on. Though their children will eventually find someone new (spouse), but parents are still happy with what they do for their children, and will always hate seeing their precious ones worrying, or sad.


All my life, I've been the pencil. And it pains me to see the eraser that is my parents getting smaller and smaller each day. For I know that one day, all that I'm left with would be eraser shavings and memories of what I used to have.