What is life but a fleeting moment of wants and despair, of sacrifice, a revelation of desires, a useless exercise of banality imbued in artificial theocracy. What does the soul need, at least a semblance of permanency, which there is none. This is but an existence of perpetual yearning of one thing to another. To remove the shackles of mediocrity one must first accept the truth of one's own self worth. For its one's own self that is the perpetrator of bondage. No one else can take your freedom away until you let them, a mind can be free even in chains. The soul can soar, see light in the darkest pits, can survive moments of deepest despair. All that matters, is choice.
تم اگر باوفا ہوتے تو کم از کم تمہارے جانے کا ماتم تو کرپاتا تم اگر باوفا ہوتے تو شاید زندگی تمہارے ساتھ ہی ختم ہو جاتی تم اگر باوفا ہوتے تو تمہاری ہر یاد داغدار نہ بن جاتی ہر بات سوال نہ بن جاتی تم اگر باوفا ہوتے تو شاید ہر حسین یاد حسین رہتی لیکن تم نے تو میرے کئی قتل کئے اورں کے لئیے مسیحا بن بیٹھے ایسے چہرے تو نہ بدلتے اگر تم با وفاہوتے
There was a workshop near Faizabad Pindi it was my uncle's I would just hang around watching mechanics working on the cars and me working on that 386 computer, I used to love the place where they would do the wheel balancing cause it had stairs going underground... It felt mysterious. Now that I think of it, this wasn't probably a good place for a child with all the machines and stuff... But I loved it... Specially the really really old cars that were there for ages and the smell of petrol mixed with different oils. My cousin used to throw bricks on one of them to show how strong the metal was... He would say ajkal to ghee ke dabay ke teen se bodies banatay hain, saath taik laga lo to chib par jata hay They had a few foxys but the yellow one was my fav, it had that modified race car steering wheel... And man that sound system with the graphic eq uff... The sound in a foxy surrounds you due to the round shape of the roof... and since the engine is at the back anyway no engine