By Mohsin Hamid, Washington Post   |   January 6, 2008

this was send to me by my very dear friend` who is in US and is not feeling well. I want you guys to pray for his health.

JUST ONE OF DEM DAYZ!.

It’s been many years now. A serving wife, devoted mother and queen of the
home have lived her life. Never ever uttered a word when the outer world
opposed her. Teaching her young ones to live a life with patience and absorbed
every wound, serve in best of the manners and obey just like a faithful slave.

I have no one. I am alone and as the force of injected illusion
and fake tenderness awakes, I move a step closer to a vicious destination. How
could I know who's mine? But I question myself; what is that I call mine? I

Freedom is a solid term. Freedom is a quality or state of being free. Freedom of expression is a wide term which includes freedom of speech, thought, act, and thus revolves around individual’s sphere.

As I walk on the white sand, beside the shore, the towering waves produced quivering sounds, gathered all the marathon catastrophic and shattering tales of my life, and I was grieved with the pain and agony, so intense that it filled my eyes with flowing pearls.

He was lying on his death bed and wrote it for the people in his life.

'The Puppet'

If
for a moment God would forget that I am a rag doll and give me a scrap
of life, possibly I would not say everything that I think, but I would
definitely think everything that I say.

Step one you say we need to talk
He walks you say sit down it's just a talk
He smiles politely back at you
You stare politely right on through
Some sort of window to your right
As he goes left and you stay right
Between the lines of fear and blame
And you begin to wonder why you came

Where did i go wrong, i lost a friend

i wonder what our nation is up too!!!!!

last evening i drove my brother n mom for shopping, the roads of fasil twn, joher twn, model twn are under construction and feels like ur in a hell when u dont have ur car's ac working!!! ist like an additional topping to make to a burnt cake!

.....

there are other world to sing in... 

I write…

I write
with purpose.

I write
with terror in my veins and hunger in my gut.

Around
me I could feel the cry, 
Far apart a soul withered and dry, 
Death calls upon the shadows of night, 
The awakening sun starts to hide, 
Then there begins a tremendous fight, 
Between sun, moon, dark and light,