Verbal tantrums of a writer & an anxious spectator of life.

Month: October, 2012

“Everyone it seems has questions this week. Some are of the stupid variety.”


Follow my Page “Loosetalk” on Facebook

This blog will continue to be my instrument in changing lives through words. 

I have also established an official Facebook Page to establish a platform for cultivated and informed discourse on empowering females around the globe. Each week, a new female will be featured on this page, providing fundamentals on her work, accomplishments and her drive to be an activists for women’s causes. 


Check back frequently for weekly updates. Comments, insights, photos, videos and all types of informed discussion are heartily welcomed on the page.

Look forward to seeing you there.



Where do the children play?

Pen down your ideologies, and the child of your pursuit will carry the torch of your dedication.

What dreary lives are we leading where our mothers, daughters and sisters are being shot in the head? They point their guns and the target is shunned. What remains is the voice behind, but if we falter in raising that, we’ll lose the battle completely.

It’s no secret that without women, there would be no national development. Why? Mothers raise, educate and set priorities for the children. Mothers ensure health and wealth for their children. Mothers manage the households so her sons and daughters can go to school and become something, one day. Mothers sacrifice their own visions, career aspirations and professional dreams so that her children’s mouths are fed. How do women do this? They are biologically inclined to tend to the needs of human beings; their emotional sensibility has ingrained in them a sense of sheer humanity males do not possess. Everywhere we go, we see women catering to the needs of homes, communities and jobs. If the woman is isolated and kept in the dark, so are the children. If a woman is robbed of her right to be informed, her children are highly likely to remain illiterate. Women are the reason our societies prosper and grow into dynamic nations.

Pakistani women are in no way behind: Benazir Bhutto, Fatima Bhutto, Um-e-Hassan, Ayesha Jalal, Madiha Lodhi, Mukhtar Mai, Malala Yousafzai, to name a few of the prominent names we have seen in global news. These women have been the movers and shakers in both political and social spheres of Pakistan, striving to shake the unequal ground we stand upon. However, these are only the most prominent names, the list is never-ending when it comes to young and adult female minds that compromise their livelihood to strive for equal rights for women. Those who want to educate, those who want to illuminate lives, those who fight crimes, those who shelter rape and acid-burn victims, those who remain quiet when their husbands beat them to pulp just so her children always have a roof over their heads – The mothers, daughters and sisters of Pakistan, despite the extremely conservative and at times, devastatingly oppressive regimes in some of the Tribal Areas, remain alive in their pursuit of equality and keep our heads high.

In a most recent event, a young activist and education-lover, Malala Yousafzai was wounded by the Taliban. They said she spoke for the West and against the Taliban; she wanted to go to school and educate herself and that was no place for her. Her place was at home, beneath the shadows of male figures surrounding her. Her only right was to pay heed to what the Taliban required. This young, courageous and mighty young woman resides in Swat, one of the tribal regions of Pakistan and also one of the most beautiful mountainous regions, might I add. Amidst the quietening gloom of religious fundamentalists, she wrote, she spoke and she took a pen and began to share her story. She spoke of the hopeless environment enveloping her; she spoke against illiteracy and stood up for female education. She almost died because of this. Today, she lays in a hospital bed, struggling for her life. How often do we find such vibrant young women who reside in some of the most oppressive surroundings? Some say in Pakistan, women only come third; that is after men and even some animals that aid men in carrying out their work. But guess who always shines like the brightest diamond? Women such as Malala; alive, breathing and believers.


Beacon of Hope – Hosting a paradigm shift for women in Pakistan. 


The purpose behind this post is not to repeat what many already say: women are the dynamic of prosperity, but to address a most fundamental matter at hand: Today we remember Malala, but tomorrow when the load-shedding takes over, and the weather changes to blistering cold, when a friend of ours visits us from abroad, when we lock our eyes with our favorite tv shows, tomorrow – Who will remember Malala’s voice?

What You Can Do To Make A Difference:

Donate and/or volunteer with:

The Citizens Foundation

Shirkat Gah – Women Resource Center

Women’s Rights Association

10X10 Educate Girls. Change the World.

Save The Children

A Startled Life

on a bed, white as the shadows that ring true without the sun, crisp like a bed of fall leaves, veins bruised with blue, the hues of bloody fails, nestled above the ground but beneath the crowd awaiting her arrival, she silently wept but the eyes were too dim to let water appear, mother, she sighed in her head, i’m here, she cried, but no one heard because the tongue was numb yet on fire, but the brain was quietened by the sound of the ventilator that clutched every inch of oxygen that crept, beneath the soul of the organ, it said, i can breathe but no one could see her chest rise and fall because the machine said, she was dead, wide awake her fingers ached to make a move of an inch, like the ant-sized human existence we live within, but the monitor sustaining her heart beat drowned the sign of life inside of her, and she said, to herself, the time is clicking by and in 3 minutes i will die, but i’m alive and i’m high, higher than the ground beneath but lower than the sound of the machine that made her lungs breathe the air she needed to remain on this side, but the heavens above smiled back at her, and she ached with every organism to shake and startle her father’s eyes, but the silence of her body said she was to die and in 2 minutes, the she saw her brother cry, as if an epileptic attack was on the rise, and she wanted to rattle her bones and not die, but the white, crisp sheets didn’t lie, and the dripping morphine inched to her insides and her mind was alive but her body had died and she thought, in a minute i will no longer cry, but she wept in memory of tales of mother-daughter beach walks, and she felt the warmth of her father’s hands but she cried because, it was time to die