me receiving an email from a company i applied to
me opening it and seeing yet another fucking automated rejection message
Pretty much how it goes
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@aasgher
me receiving an email from a company i applied to
me opening it and seeing yet another fucking automated rejection message
Pretty much how it goes
Run, boy, run!
Thinking about writing a short story based on the tales of my father. The way he tells his story of his upbringing, the struggles he went through as a mere child, and then the hardships he faced as an immigrant. It’s not only striking but speaks such volumes. I don’t want to write it all here as this is something I do hope to get into the works someday but figured at least I’d post an exert for now. So in the character’s perspective, here goes
He looked at me with certainty in his eyes as he understood what the plan was. We nodded to each other and as we walked the down the rough dirt path shrouded by the darkness of night, we waited for our moment. With the tall, mustache-bearing man who claimed to know my father yet, I had never seen him in my life was only a few paces behind us. He told us to stop and wait for him as he goes inside the corner store to pick up snacks for our journey we were about to embark on. I knew better. A man twice the size as me and hiding want only seems to be a knife under his shirt wouldn’t just stop for “snacks along the way”. I turned to my friend and nodded. As fast as our young 10-year-old legs can move, we ran like fire was underneath us. And once we reached the split in the road this was it. I ran further into the darkness fearing to look over my shoulder in case the man with the hidden knife would be chasing after me. I ran until I could not go any further and found an abandoned hut nearby. For the night I hide there and prayed. Hope wherever my friend ran off too knows how grateful I am for his selfless act of courage and praying that he slipped away safely.
So true, every time
awkward eye contact with people in the car next to yours at a red light
What does one do when a broke heart is left broken. When they've gone through their grieving but the pieces still remain shattered. Where they still can't phase between fantasy and reality. Stuck in a daydream of past memories. Memories they wish to erase like sand slipping through the cracks in our hands.
Take me back to yesteryear so I may indulge in my wanderlust. #the607 (at Horseheads, New York)
You may grin from ear to ear
Ever have that one person who can flip your perspective around? I mean in a positive manner. Their simple words or presence gives you this extraordinary feeling like as if you’ve taken ecstacy but remain on this high that makes you feel above cloud nine.
How is this possible? That this one instance can have such an effect. How can us mere humans be so afflicted by the smallest change of chemicals that rush through our brains. Infecting each and every blood cell that courses through our veins. That with each breathe we take, it tastes a little bit sweeter. That with each sight we witness, we are left in awe and admiration. How is this possible?
My cheeks become sore with each laugh that I release. Feeling the air escape my lungs and pulse through me. This ray of joy radiating over my body. Thoughts of you blanketing my heart. Feeling each beat get louder and louder the more your thoughts intertwine with my soul. Letting my heart whisper quietly to my warm cheeks, telling them to soften. Relax. And smile.
Legacy
After taking some time coming to terms that my paternal grandfather passed away there is still much to reflect upon. In the comfort of his home, surrounded by loved ones I couldn’t have asked for a more peaceful way to leave this earth. Though it saddens me that both of my paternal grandparents are gone, I know they will truly never leave us. The beauty of grandparents and generations before us is that we carry on their values. As tomorrow’s future, as children of the next generation and so forth we have a duty to carry on the positive impact they wished to have passed down.
Though he was a man of few words, my father and his father had endured hardships that one cannot even begin to imagine. My father would tell me stories of his upbringings, what my grandfather went through just to provide for his family. The distances he traveled and days he spent far away from his family. All so that he can give a better tomorrow for his children. To instill in his children his message.
My grandparents were huge advocates of become something to change the world. Essentially, do something with yourself so that you may do well upon others. I cannot express how truly blessed I am to have been raised in such a giving family whom despite their own struggles will help someone in need. If I haven’t done so already, I hope that one day I can follow in the same manner and do more. Passing down their torch, I know that while they look down upon the work of their children and grandchildren they’ll see that we aspire to carry on their legacy.
Love you always dada and dadi,
Can it just be spring time already 🌷💐🌸🌺☀️#missingthewarmth
A numerical girl in a numerical world
Why are we so obsessed with numbers? Why do we care how many likes we received on our latest Instagram selfie that’s undergone 5 filter shades from the original picture? Now I’m not saying I don’t do the same as I am guilty for being one of those people that once I post a picture become discouraged if it’s not liked within the first 10 minutes.
But what caused us to be so consumed with these numbers and live by these metrics? But then on the flip side of this also raises the question, is it wrong? There are people who rightfully deserve your attention for their artistry they display online. But once it’s liked and then becomes a thing of the past, now what? What about appreciating it over and over like a painting in a museum. Or is that where stalking comes into play?
I mean there’s those few posts that will go down in Internet history (cat on a roomba gif, 9+10 kid, even Hide Yo Kids dude). But after that 15 seconds of fame window closes we wait for the next best thing. Over and over again, the cycle continuously waiting for something bigger and bigger each time.
Does this then play into our subconscious that we as millennials are never truly satisfied or are hard to please? Our emotions are based on quantity rather than quality. We keep looking at these Internet stars and their fabulous filtered lives thinking that they’re so wonderful and carefree, but ultimately giving us a false sense of reality. This skews the fact that everyone experiences hardships because all we see is happy-go-lucky people ranking up numbers and getting big bucks for it.
We’re going to be constantly playing this numbers game, whether we chose to or not. But it comes down to if we chose to care if these numbers will affect us or not.
🎄😊
Life of an expat
So some of you have been wondering what life is like here in the East. For those on my snapchat must have realized by now that most of my time is consumed with...well consuming food. Trying out various places and just praying that my stomach doesn’t explode. I am proud to say that I built my iron stomach so come at my food poisoning (actually please don’t).
Anyways, initially life here was a whirlwind. Didn’t know anyone or where I was. Still two months later I didn’t remember the routine to get home, feel so directionally challenged here.
The toughest part was being away from everything and being far beyond my comfort zone. I’m away from most of my family, my friends, my car, tacos. It was a hard adjustment to live with and still is. And yes tacos are just not the same here, basically get a roti burrito type thing.
On a daily basis there’s not much to do, aside from eating. There’s the occasional shopping but really have to know where to go and if you end up at a place where bargaining is involved then have to know what is a good price. Still figuring out the currency conversion but have a basic idea for the cost of things.
Aside from the mundane there are moments of exploring the beauty of this country. I was honored when one friend said to me that in my snapchats I am breaking people’s stereotypes on Pakistan. Based on the news she has read and heard she thought it was super dangerous and women covered all the time. But on the contrary I had provided her a window of seeing that it’s nice and people live their lives.
Now granted there is some hostility on occasion and unfortunately women do have to be mindful of their surroundings and outward appearance. But for the most part it’s bearable here. I don’t want people assuming that we’re succumbed to being obedient houseworks only to be subservient to men. There are some badass women out here working the grind but unfortunately their voices aren’t heard loud enough. My hope is that one day this whole gender equality issue no longer becomes an issue. It should already be a no brainer that we are on the same playing field and should be treated as equals. But alas this will take some real hard pushing to get this narrative across everyone’s backward mindset.
Now I could go on and on about all my observations and sentiments while being here but that’s for a separate time and place. For now I just wanted to share a taste of what I’m feeling. Perhaps over time this place will grow on me as there is still more to explore.
[Badshahi Mosque, Lahore]
Saw a post from @jiah_ali about how girls in this country are shy from taking pictures and how we typically see more male representation. Inspired me to share this #tb picture I took of this little girl from Mianwali who wasn't shy at all. #humansofpakistan (at Mianwali)
tonight’s aesthetic: Cookie Monster philosophizing in an art museum
This just changed my life.
The lasagne one has opened my eyes
With the new day comes new strength and new thoughts. ~Eleanor Roosevelt (at Laguardia Corner Garden)
Wish I caught his name but he was one of the few children who weren't shy about me taking their photos. The charm in their eyes was mesmerizing and seeing their smiling faces was heartwarming. It's amazing to see such beauty in the faces of our future. (at Mianwali)