How many times have you questioned yourself-- "What is the purpose of my life?" "What am I doing here?"
I've noticed that we tend to completely overlook the real purpose of life, and get caught up in the small things. For example me, I want to be a lawyer. I want to be someone who's an active member of the society and contributes to social issues and global causes. Now I know that I love sociology, I enjoy reading about religion, spirituality, anthropology, history, politics, YET I never do it! It seems to me that I get caught up in what the society labels to be 'relaxation' aka facebook, mindless blogging, etc. that I never actually get to the 'serious stuff'. Instead of delving into these interests of mine, I spend hours indulging in the notion that mindless crap is relaxation.
I don't know if you're able to follow my train of thoughts, but basically what I mean is, we overlook the purpose of our lives and give into our momentary desires. As a Muslim, my ultimate goal in life is to attain Jannah, inshAllah. Now instead of me making use of my hours carefully, I spend hours reading about useless crap that will be of absolutely no benefit to me, or my career, or my goals, whatsoever. I do understand the importance of relaxing and just letting go, and doing something light and mindless, something where I don't have to think, you know? Relax my brain for just a little bit. But doing that for 5-6 hours at a stretch, spending entire days indulging in that? It's definitely something to be worried about.
This is just something that I realized today, and something that I'm resolving to fix starting today. Making better use of my time, and actually WORKING towards my goals. The four quadrants, the real deal.
What is YOUR purpose in life and how are you fulfilling it?
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
September 18, 2010
February 11, 2009
Shielding Tomorrow
Shielding Tomorrow
Feed my oblivious mind with lies of tomorrow,
Rif my anticipation of further sorrows.
Try as you may but you fail again;
You cannot make me see the beauty of tomorrow.
You observe the sky,
The moon and stars in all their glory.
Your hear the crashing waves on the shore,
The feeling of wet sand so cold.
I see no moon, I see no stars
Only the sheer brilliance of my loving heart.
No crashing waves, no thunder skies
Only the stormy depths of my silent cries.
Life's happier side is filled with lies,
For every day ends with night.
Each blossoming flower falls from grace,
Come autumn there lingers a ghostly haze.
So fill not my mind with lies of tomorrow,
Rid not my anticipation of future sorrows.
In pain I prepare myself,
To shield the ambush of tomorrow.
11.2.09
Wednesday
2.25 am.
Feed my oblivious mind with lies of tomorrow,
Rif my anticipation of further sorrows.
Try as you may but you fail again;
You cannot make me see the beauty of tomorrow.
You observe the sky,
The moon and stars in all their glory.
Your hear the crashing waves on the shore,
The feeling of wet sand so cold.
I see no moon, I see no stars
Only the sheer brilliance of my loving heart.
No crashing waves, no thunder skies
Only the stormy depths of my silent cries.
Life's happier side is filled with lies,
For every day ends with night.
Each blossoming flower falls from grace,
Come autumn there lingers a ghostly haze.
So fill not my mind with lies of tomorrow,
Rid not my anticipation of future sorrows.
In pain I prepare myself,
To shield the ambush of tomorrow.
11.2.09
Wednesday
2.25 am.
Lifeless Existence
Lifeless Existence
A thousand years in the continuity of life,
A thousand summers bloomed.
Dewy freshness and dancing peacocks,
Crumpled autumn leaves.
And so a lifetime be gone
Except here I stand questioning the Heavens above;
"Hallowed be Thy Name
Why this lifeless existence?"
"Why teacheth Thou this heart to beat?
Why teacheth Thou this heart to bleed?
Why giveth Thou this soul to be?
Why giveth Thou this mortal heed?"
Shooting meteors and turning fates,
Buried morals and broken spirits,
All but one remains firmly unshaken;
Questions of a lifeless existence.
11.2.09
Wednesday.
2:00 a.m.
A thousand years in the continuity of life,
A thousand summers bloomed.
Dewy freshness and dancing peacocks,
Crumpled autumn leaves.
And so a lifetime be gone
Except here I stand questioning the Heavens above;
"Hallowed be Thy Name
Why this lifeless existence?"
"Why teacheth Thou this heart to beat?
Why teacheth Thou this heart to bleed?
Why giveth Thou this soul to be?
Why giveth Thou this mortal heed?"
Shooting meteors and turning fates,
Buried morals and broken spirits,
All but one remains firmly unshaken;
Questions of a lifeless existence.
11.2.09
Wednesday.
2:00 a.m.
February 7, 2009
The Elucidations Of A Saint
The Elucidations Of A Saint
I see it, I see the pain behind her topaz eyes.
Marked by a chasm in destiny, one life never expected.
I see it, I see the abysmal despair.
And if it bore some fruit to barter hearts, I would do it, I would do it all for you. Alas! We're two broken souls in one body. Two broken souls with two broken hearts.
I see it, I see through your mask;
The broken bits of that loving heart.
Where does it come from? The strength to move along?
To pretend nothing ever went wrong?
I know you're hurting. I see those tears.
I see the shadows of your broken past.
You give, and you give more.
Neglecting your pining heart.
And I stand at a distance, and glance.
I stare, wishing to fill your world with love.
Wishing to give you happiness so vast,
That no starry night, no moon, no sun, no falling star could compare it's brilliance.
No star could fathom its depth.
No weight could measure its purity.
I wish to give it all to you,
Alas! It happens not.
Blood binds us, and yet you push me away.
Out of your world, out of your life.
Why the fear to let go?
Why the desire to take it all in?
Why the choice to suffer for those who let your soul burn and fall to ashes?
You walk away, leaving me but one answer:
The elucidations of a saint.
3:03 am
7th February, 2009
Saturday.
I see it, I see the pain behind her topaz eyes.
Marked by a chasm in destiny, one life never expected.
I see it, I see the abysmal despair.
And if it bore some fruit to barter hearts, I would do it, I would do it all for you. Alas! We're two broken souls in one body. Two broken souls with two broken hearts.
I see it, I see through your mask;
The broken bits of that loving heart.
Where does it come from? The strength to move along?
To pretend nothing ever went wrong?
I know you're hurting. I see those tears.
I see the shadows of your broken past.
You give, and you give more.
Neglecting your pining heart.
And I stand at a distance, and glance.
I stare, wishing to fill your world with love.
Wishing to give you happiness so vast,
That no starry night, no moon, no sun, no falling star could compare it's brilliance.
No star could fathom its depth.
No weight could measure its purity.
I wish to give it all to you,
Alas! It happens not.
Blood binds us, and yet you push me away.
Out of your world, out of your life.
Why the fear to let go?
Why the desire to take it all in?
Why the choice to suffer for those who let your soul burn and fall to ashes?
You walk away, leaving me but one answer:
The elucidations of a saint.
3:03 am
7th February, 2009
Saturday.
November 11, 2008
Epitome of a Delusive Aim- 12.11.08, Wednesday.
Epitome Of a Delusive Aim
You rattle your mind and soul; probe it further and further, trying somehow to clear the permanent haze that's been obscuring the vision and the ability to feel. It's hard, very hard, and impossible even at times. No matter what you do, no matter how hard you try, it's stuck there, like transparent wrap clinging on to a frozen container. Your brain is stuck at one point, there's no past, no future. It's frozen. No thawing. Not one bit. Not one degree. Every moment, every hour, every minute, the haze is clouding my thoughts, clouding your ability to differ from the passing seconds of life. You don't, or rather can't, feel the intensity of each passing event. Each feeling is registered, yet not recognised. It seems like our soul, heart and brain combine together to become one big blob of nothingness; of everything, yet nothing.
The feelings all crash down at one point, hitting hard, feeling a numb, throbbing pain, yet not actually feeling it. Does it make sense? Does life? Yes. No! The magnitude of the pain is like that of a severely decayed tooth being gnawed at under the Novocaine. It's a throbbing pain that you can't register. Yet after the anaesthetic dies down, you're sore, bruised, hurting. Unable to find the will to face the realities of life. Wanting to crawl into a black hole and just block out the world. That's when you wish you were numb; going to that comfortable and familiar corner of your soul where no one lashes out and everything is calm and peaceful, like the still waters of an azure ocean.
But as you come to terms with this emptiness and start to face the world around you normally, stuck in a routine, people, events.
And then comes a turning point in your life. This turning point can be defined as a possible delusion; making you believe that this numbness is not right, and that life is much more. It may come in the form of a person, an object, or maybe just a dream. Waking you up from the coma of your own soul. You wish to feel. You fight to feel. Living inside this hollowness, you realize you need to feel, to be alive. That's when life throws you in the path of destiny..
Millions of branches of fate, with a few clearly defined ones. And it feeds on you..
Some get into masochistic habits, some into sadistic, some inflict pain on others, some upon themselves, all to get out of something they brought upon themselves (the numbness). Some make it, some don't. Some fall and get back up, some fall and break, too crippled by the events to get back up. They sink into a dark abyss; destroying their life, a slow suicide. Numbing their senses and going back once again to where they were. The ones who move on are once again put to test. Pushed over their limits, tested and tried, like a guinea pig until he dies, or a puppet until the show's over. And that's exactly what does happen. Like destiny is some kind of a scientist, or a puppet man, playing with the threads of life to see what different outcomes it can make of lives, and then search for new puppets when the previous have worn out. During this puppet show of life, where you get back up and are thrown to destiny, you try to make the best out of life. You are faced with problems at every step, and when it gets too much to bear, you automatically sink into your comfortable shell at once, that little corner in your shell that you fought to break out from.
And that, I say, is the epitome of life; the cycle of delusion, the cycle of false belief and aims that a particular event or object in life will change you. It won't.
Arfa Shahid Siddiqi.
You rattle your mind and soul; probe it further and further, trying somehow to clear the permanent haze that's been obscuring the vision and the ability to feel. It's hard, very hard, and impossible even at times. No matter what you do, no matter how hard you try, it's stuck there, like transparent wrap clinging on to a frozen container. Your brain is stuck at one point, there's no past, no future. It's frozen. No thawing. Not one bit. Not one degree. Every moment, every hour, every minute, the haze is clouding my thoughts, clouding your ability to differ from the passing seconds of life. You don't, or rather can't, feel the intensity of each passing event. Each feeling is registered, yet not recognised. It seems like our soul, heart and brain combine together to become one big blob of nothingness; of everything, yet nothing.
The feelings all crash down at one point, hitting hard, feeling a numb, throbbing pain, yet not actually feeling it. Does it make sense? Does life? Yes. No! The magnitude of the pain is like that of a severely decayed tooth being gnawed at under the Novocaine. It's a throbbing pain that you can't register. Yet after the anaesthetic dies down, you're sore, bruised, hurting. Unable to find the will to face the realities of life. Wanting to crawl into a black hole and just block out the world. That's when you wish you were numb; going to that comfortable and familiar corner of your soul where no one lashes out and everything is calm and peaceful, like the still waters of an azure ocean.
But as you come to terms with this emptiness and start to face the world around you normally, stuck in a routine, people, events.
And then comes a turning point in your life. This turning point can be defined as a possible delusion; making you believe that this numbness is not right, and that life is much more. It may come in the form of a person, an object, or maybe just a dream. Waking you up from the coma of your own soul. You wish to feel. You fight to feel. Living inside this hollowness, you realize you need to feel, to be alive. That's when life throws you in the path of destiny..
Millions of branches of fate, with a few clearly defined ones. And it feeds on you..
Some get into masochistic habits, some into sadistic, some inflict pain on others, some upon themselves, all to get out of something they brought upon themselves (the numbness). Some make it, some don't. Some fall and get back up, some fall and break, too crippled by the events to get back up. They sink into a dark abyss; destroying their life, a slow suicide. Numbing their senses and going back once again to where they were. The ones who move on are once again put to test. Pushed over their limits, tested and tried, like a guinea pig until he dies, or a puppet until the show's over. And that's exactly what does happen. Like destiny is some kind of a scientist, or a puppet man, playing with the threads of life to see what different outcomes it can make of lives, and then search for new puppets when the previous have worn out. During this puppet show of life, where you get back up and are thrown to destiny, you try to make the best out of life. You are faced with problems at every step, and when it gets too much to bear, you automatically sink into your comfortable shell at once, that little corner in your shell that you fought to break out from.
And that, I say, is the epitome of life; the cycle of delusion, the cycle of false belief and aims that a particular event or object in life will change you. It won't.
Arfa Shahid Siddiqi.
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