The Creatively Frustrated

(This is a lengthy story based on actual facts. Episodes will be posted over a span of a few weeks. There are going to be NINE episodes in total. For Episode 6 click here . Enjoy!) Episode 7 Maheen is in the parking lot of the hospital. She takes out the keys from her purse and collapses on the driver’s seat. She leans her head against the steering wheel and breaks down. She cries and sobs, her shoulders shake violently with grief. She wipes her tears with the back of her hands and starts the car. Images are flashing through her mind, Sadiq holding her hand against his cheek, Sadiq spinning a bra in his hand, drunk; Sadiq beating her. She accelerates her car out of the hospital and sees an addict by the road side. She stares at him. Suddenly it occurs to her, her eyes widen in realization. She remembers the welcome party that her cousin Eemaan gave her in America. Her memories play in front of her eyes like a movie; the skinny guy coughing and then administering the morphine and th...

(This is a lengthy story based on actual facts. Episodes will be posted over a span of a few weeks. There are going to be NINE episodes in total. For Episode 5 click here . Enjoy!) Episode 6 Maheen is walking in the hospital. She looks at her watch. She is five minutes late. She approaches the receptionist who tells her to wait. Maheen sits on a sofa. She picks up a magazine about motherhood and flips through it. “Mrs. Maheen Sadiq?” A nurse announces her name. Maheen stands up and follows the nurse into the doctor’s room. “Hello Maheen! How are you feeling?” Dr. Mehnaz, the doctor dealing with her pregnancy, asks. The nurse leaves closing the door behind her. Maheen sits on the chair opposite the doctor. “I’m feeling good.” “Is anyone here with you?” “No. I came alone.” “Maheen… I’m afraid I have very bad news. It would have been better if someone from your family was here.” Maheen stares at the doctor for a few seconds. “I can handle it Dr. Mehnaz. Tell me what’s wrong.” “Do you ...

Eyes open and I am gazing out that window and still not seeing. Mind is empty of all thoughts, it’s a bliss rarely found now. Soul vacant of all expectations, a wave of happiness spreads through. Which I yet am unable to feel. And then someone along the way, points at a drop that fell from the skies. How long was the distance that it had to travel from up there, I wonder? How much did it change, from what it was when born? You think too much, I remind myself. That moment where all was forgotten; lost. The drops form a trail on the windscreen. Pitter patter. Stubbornly, it drums down with more force, thrashing on mother earth. What is it trying to prove? Ssshh. I roll down the windows and let the cool wind in. It didn’t come alone; a few raindrops unable to stay tied to the gravity and pushed inside by the breeze did too. A slight shower the entire way as I watch the roads bathe, small bubbles burst as fast as they were formed, lights reflect off the street, rain falling again...

(This is a lengthy story based on actual facts. Episodes will be posted over a span of a few weeks. There are going to be NINE episodes in total. For Episode 4 click here . Enjoy!) Episode 5 Two years have passed. Maheen is sitting in front of the mirror in the master bedroom. She is genuinely happy about something. A smile lingers on her face. She dabs perfume on both her wrists and looks at the wall clock. It is 8 ‘o’ clock. She walks in the kitchen, where the cook is busy preparing food. “Sadiq will be here any moment. Is the food ready?” Maheen asks. “Yes ma’am sahib. I have taken great care in cooking the food today. After all, it is sahibs and your first wedding anniversary.” The cook replies confidently. Maheen goes back into her room and looks out the window. She is lost in thought. Her memories of the past two years are not pleasant ones. She remembers how she fought with her parents when they had forbidden her to marry Sadiq, the images flash through her head. According ...

Ever had that feeling when you wished that you could just run away? Spacing out into your own self created world can be quite handy at times. For instance, there are times when you just can’t bear the insistent ‘yak yakkity yak’ of that plump woman standing next to you in a queue. But you’re too polite to shove a sock down her throat. So, you create an imaginary world of which the details are so vivid and crisp, that to you it’s almost; almost real. The ‘yak yak’ is tuned out to subtle hum, barely noticeable. The frequent, automated nod of your head and the occasional ‘jee jee’ assures her that you are listening. Here, your ‘escape’ spares you a bad headache later on. Like I said, it’s handy. Let’s take a grimmer scenario. Sometimes it happens so that there is such an emotional turmoil within you, that the pain no longer just remains psychological but you feel it in your bones. This is when you prefer to ‘space out’. You recreate your happy events, something that made you truly, j...

That chilly air enveloped her, Caressing as lips on skin, From between the tendrils it flowed And whispered in the deep confines. Strolling towards that frozen sun, The water licked her toes, Orange hues and shades of blue Beckoned, she wanted more. Thigh high the liquid pierced her skin, Her clothes a transparent halo, Fading warmth and numbness grew, Yet she strolled deeper still. With finger tips she teased the water As emerging ripples echoed The tiny tides gave birth to suns On that eerie icy lake. Breast deep, her breath came shallow, She knew not how to swim Yet eyes fixated on that fiery globe Burned to cure what has been wasted. Transfixed, she sighed, It was when the sun gave day to night, In the lake where dawn was a fiction, Where her truth softly wept. Her mouth, gasping, pale and wet, The water intruded her throat, It was just her and the half dome of light, Let the sun shine a light on her. (Photography and poetry by Misha.)

'Stay,hold and keep playing' Forgotten vibes now The chords have changed, the curtains unfamiliar. Do you see what I see? Nah. Spotlight's blinding me. You shuffle, almost without notice. Not a clutter from the audience in front. Am I alone? I gaze to my right; 'Stay,hold and keep playing' Its not even a spectacle anymore. Distrust heaving me down. My work with the dangling puppets was much better, atleast recognizable. 'Stay,hold and keep playing' It worked better with my last play. Confident, and divine, I stood so proud that the crowd couldnt spot even a glitch of hesitance. It was my stage, my audience, my theater. So, just 'Stay,hold and keep playing'? Unlikely. Make the curtains fall, the performance is over. With a slight drag, you stand up and walk away, hoping there wont be any callbacks. Abyss.