Sway.

The earliest men, never worshiped a soiled man of their own creed, but idealized those celestial bodies and labelled them 'God'. However it's not only them - as the chronicles suggest, the latter people who were Romans, crucified 'the ordinary man' Jesus too, on claiming to be a part of that discern divinity that lingered since forever. So wherefore do we investigate the magnitude of ordinary things? They are just ordinary, like us.

           Nevertheless, we are ordinary individuals, who get up at eight'o clock after setting up the alarm for seven, who get scorned by ordinary teachers for not finishing an incomplete task or who check out the better looking people and fantasize. In spite of everything, we live in this bona fide world, where one night chances don't make you  billionaires, where drinking from a cup of coffee and not spilling a drop of it, is unachievable, where we all know that one day we will grow up to be ordinary doctors or engineers and have an ordinary life. But do we believe in putting an article 'The' before our first names?

          Why do these 'standing-out' alienated things get noticed? we look for flowers in the fall, through a rose tinted glass, and somehow we find them. Hiding beneath all that orange, golden, yellow, brown are those little sprouts of unperturbed baby pinkish-purple petals, cocooning those diminutive gold filaments and the green stigma. These petals are held together collectively by a stem and we find it challenging to locate our reflections in this stem. We haven't conceived that as yet. We are the sprout and it will only bloom into a flower if it believes in the morning dew and the sunlight. Only then, within this dirt of aridity, will blossom a unique character. And the creator made this flower, to flourish only in Autumn. They call it, Michaelmas Daisy.

           And Of course, I fathom and trust my instincts, and they will not haunt me to lead an ordinary life. Because unlike all others, I am Michaelmas Daisy. I was born to bloom by these dead leaves, and one day I will escort them to ever green.   

Little things.

We spend part of our lives exploring things, trying to engage with the world, that lives within these small worlds of small things.
We travel, we observe, we think. We gain inspiration from the movies we see and the books we read. We picture ourselves in situations that instill us to our cores, situations that capture our minds, for their beauty and charisma are too picturesque for our unsure minds.
Some get captivated by their dreams. Some find the cuddling up in warm blankets, the kissing in the rain, the curling up in his manly arms, the touch of her smooth skin, the morning smile, the roasted marshmallows on campfire, the gaze of the lover's eye, the mating, the first smile of the first child and the satisfaction while landing on the deathbed, ideal.
We think. We idealize. We think of it too often. And then even before realizing it, these things that were once a part of some writers imagination or a part of some actor's script, become the sole purpose of our lives, a very permanent part of our subconscious mind.
We waste our lives, ransacking the shelves of bookstores, searching for the best magazine for 'getting in shape' issues. We rebel our traditions, our cultures for winning the race of identities, of statuses, of  power, of fame. We seldom cuss God too, for not letting it have our way and seldom, deny his existence.
We look for them, we find them, we detest their ways, we loose them. We look for someone better  and after we fail, we try too look for their look-a-likes and we fail again. Then we go looking for them and we realize that it is too late, because they, unlike us have put their pasts behind. They moved on. We IDEALIZE too much. Somebody always needs to remind us that we are not living in a 'Wonderland' like Alice. That sometimes, love needs not to be showed. That sometimes, love by definition is a FEELING not always a noun, but more importantly a verb.
After realizing this, we start to fall in love with those little things that are not mentioned in books and movies. Little things, that we write in our own lives, with our own pen, and our own hand, held by someone dear to us. Little things, that others in no possible way, can define for us. Little things, that are a secret between us and them. Little things, that are greater that any other.
Because Like I Said; We spend part of our lives exploring things, trying to engage with the world, that lives within these small worlds of small things.

Rules and details

Dear Students,

This blog has been created for you, the students of first year (AKU-EB) studying at Aga Khan Higher Secondary School, Karachi.

The blog aims at providing a platform where you can share your pieces of creative writing (poetry and prose) with your fellows. You can post both serious and humorous works. Comments and constructive feedback from readers will motivate you to write on and will give you ideas to hone your skills further. The blog might also inspire some of you who hate writing to try your pens.

We will also soon announce some incentives for best works.

Keeping the aims of the blog in mind, it is expected of you to strictly abide by the following rules:

-          Do not post works which contain obscene and offensive language.

-          Do not post works which express political, religious or cultural bias.

-          Do not post comments that may demotivate the members.

We expect full compliance with these rules and encourage each one of you to post your work and remain active on the blog to take full benefit from this intiative.

Note: We thank Haya Zaidi and Rizwan Mujtaba of E1 for helping us develop and materialize the idea.

Best,

Zainab M Aslam