The Liebster Award!

It’s an honour to finally get nominated for this award, many thanks to Fariha of thoughtfulhues for nominating me! Make sure to check out her amazing, thoughtful blog. I’m sure it’ll be worth your time.

The Liebster Award is an award given by bloggers to other bloggers who they think need encouragement and recognition. It was started by The Global Aussie in 2011.

The rules for the 2018 Award are as below :
• Thank the person who nominated you
• Display the award on your post
• Write a small post about what makes you passionate about blogging
• Provide 10 random facts about yourself
• Answer the questions given to you
• Nominate 5-11 other blogs for this award
• Ask them creative and unique questions of your own
• List the rules and inform your nominees of the award.

My passion for blogging:

Without a doubt what all bloggers have in common is a flair for writing. Hence, words are what fuel my passion for blogging. Besides this I also love coming across like-minded people who share my views. WordPress is a bliss for someone like me.

10 Random Facts About Me:

  1. My hometown is near Jaipur, called Tonk in Rajasthan. My great, great, great grandfather was a Pathan from Afghanistan, Amir Khan & he used to help Rajputs fight against British. Later on the British gave him the title of Nawab & the princely state of Tonk where he finally settled.
  2. I like gothic fiction a lot. The first book I read was ‘Dracula’ by Bram Stoker that remains one of my favorites till date.
  3. My hobbies include painting, writing, watching movies & reading.
  4. As much as I like being an extrovert, I’m never petrified at the thought of being alone.
  5. I’m an only child but I’m not a spoilt brat & I don’t spend my parents fortune recklessly as the stereotypes go.
  6. I love exploring old buildings, castles. One such place is my aunt’s place, she lives in one part of the castle which is equally divided amongst the many children of the Nawaab (He had more wives than he needed).
  7. Even though I can socialize well my friends know nothing about my personal life. I’m a very private person.
  8. I struggle with expressing emotions which makes people think I’m cold.
  9. I can be unforgiving & ruin your self-esteem without feeling even an ounce of guilt. But it takes a lot to infuriate me.
  10. I love spending time in a library or a stationary more than anything else.

Fariha’s Questions :

1. What is your fondest memory?

One of the many that I can remember at the moment is making short films with my dad. Even though they were extremely unprofessional 😁but I always had a great time making them! I played a magician once, inspired by Harry Potter😂

2. Team Coffee or Tea & Why?

Team ‘Cold’ Coffee to be more specific because I don’t like tea.

3. What is the most courageous thing that you have ever done?

For me it has been accepting the fact that I don’t have to stop respecting myself just because I’m different.

4. What’s your guilty pleasure?

My guilty pleasure is debating. I’ve made my friends cry over silly debates just to prove my point. I can get aggressive but it’s never personal.

5. What’s the biggest challenge about blogging for you?

So far I’m doing just fine but I guess in the near future I might lack motivation to go on. I can’t remain hooked onto one thing.

6. What three items would you take to a desert island?

Water, survival kit & a magic lamp to get back whenever I want to.

7. Would you rather watch a movie or read the book ?

I’d rather watch a movie. If the genre is something that appeals to me then I will read the book.

8. What is the one battle you struggle with daily?

Getting out of my bed.

9. How do you aspire to be a better you?

I want to stay focused on my goals, believe in God & always respect my parents.

10. What is your favourite family tradition ?

I think it has to be Eid celebration because it brings the whole family together from every corner of India & abroad.

Here are my nominees:

Bharath Upendra

The fault in our brains

doses of ever-i-thing

The Realist

notthetumblrgirl

EST : 2013

Fawad Hassan K

This is it for now, I might nominate more bloggers later.

These are my questions for you :

  1. What’s your biggest pet peeve?
  2. What does your name mean?
  3. What are the top 5 songs on your playlist?
  4. How far can you go to prove yourself right?
  5. What would be the title of the book about your life?
  6. What was the easiest life-lesson you learnt?
  7. What makes you apprehensive?
  8. How would you define yourself?
  9. Who is your favorite author?
  10. What is more important, emotions or logic?

Thanks for reading!

18 & melancholic!

Today was simply one heck of a morning!

I was sound asleep in my room when distinct voices woke me up. At first they were unclear but soon I could make out what my mother was saying on the phone, “Oh, how much did you get? What about Nameera?”, the last line was a signal enough for me to figure who it was & what they were talking about.

I leapt out of bed frantically. Days ago in my mind I had come to the conclusion that I’ll get around 76 per cent in 12th grade board exams. “Nameera, tujhe 79 aaye!? (Nameera, you got 79 per cent)” as much as I was hoping to somehow get 80 per cent beyond all odds, just the number ‘8’ followed by a zero would’ve made a huge impact on my mind. But 79.6 wasn’t bad either considering the fact that I did Accounts on my own the whole year round. I needed tuitions badly but I didn’t join any because I wanted to concentrate on subjects that were my strong point. Initially I did feel a bit low but hey, guess what? It’s my b’day today! Nothing could keep me down for long. Not when my parents got me THIS :

Every B’day I’d demand art supplies but this time I’m glad I picked something worth my time(not that art isn’t). Yes, it’s still hard for me to comprehend classics but it’s definitely not a waste of my time.

Coming down to the purpose behind this post, I’d advice students who just received their results like me to not fret over the past. Accept it & get over it. If moving on seems difficult, read a book, watch your favorite movie or simply flip through old pictures of your school days.

I’m sure there’s just enough room for you to grow academically & personally in the coming future.

Have a nice day!

The home away from home

My mother received a call from her friend yesterday. So, we’re at her place today. It isn’t grand but you can’t exactly call it average. Three chandeliers lined across the ceiling are intricate in design. There were other women already present when we got there. All of them stood up as we greeted them by saying Salam followed by softly touching each other cheek to cheek, which can be termed as the Saudi greeting style, in a way. They’re all wearing burqas’ with different hues. The colors range from grey to caramel to black but sorrow has only one color; grey. Now, here comes the interesting part. The women here speak fluent urdu/hindi pronouncing a word or two with a heavy Arabic dialect. They’re Saudi no doubt yet they weren’t born one. It’s an interesting sight to behold but the purpose that brought us here is a grave matter.

My mother sits in the corner consoling her friend who just lost hope or in simple terms, a mother.

There are chocolates laid out on the table. The Arabic coffee (Qahwa) and dates are never missing in any Saudi house.

I see women from different walks of life share their stories. In a way, this is the only means to share grief in a home away from home.

“She would stir the Sheer Korma (An Indian Sweet dish) standing in the kitchen” says an old woman with a walking-stick kept by the sofa she settled comfortably upon. A dramatic pause on her part makes it seem as though her memory was failing her. “She would often quote the following as I remember well:

Eid ki sachi khushi to apno ki deed hai,
Tum humse door ho to apni kya eid hai.

(Translation : The true happiness of Eid is a gift of loved ones, what’s Eid if you’re away from me)”, she said, smiling satisfactorily as my notions about her memory turned out false. The old woman’s mother married a Saudi decades ago and never went back. Years later when she asked her mother to visit their family in Pakistan she’d simply answer, “What’s the point of visiting graves?”. Apparently most of her close family members were buried 6 ft under the earth. The only home left was where she was now.

As blessed as these people are with two homes & families scattered across two continents yet the painstaking truth seldom goes unnoticed.

People like us or as the term goes, expatriates see these converts in more than one way. Yet something that always bugs me most is patriotism. How do they decide which home to put their faith in? Or are they torn apart between two like I imagine myself in their shoes? Many of my questions have long gone unanswered but a few hints here & there in conversation always reveal their love for where they’re now but no matter what, the past still makes them nostalgic.

As one of her friends asked her where her mother died, the woman replied, calm & collected, “Rourkee” followed with a briefing about the beautiful state situated in the colder regions of India. “Is it close to Saharanpur?” Asks a lady wearing desi clothes with a pixie, quite an odd sight for a native of where she comes from but it’s pretty normal for us. “No, it’s close to Dehradun” a reply is made to acknowledge the query. The chubby woman laughs bobbing her head back & forth, “Like I’d know where that is!”.

The fact that they have no knowledge of states other than their own parents or grandparents place of origin always makes me wonder if they can ever have emotional ties with a place they’ve never seen, only heard of through stories & anecdotes.

“My mother was from Dehradun” exclaims the woman who had been listening to the conversation from across the sofa. Others nod their heads in acknowledgement.

Without a doubt the conversation drifts towards fashion. “My sister sent me stitched clothes from Lahore which removed all apprehensions I had had regarding my Eid outfit” says a woman with an air of relief as others agree with her.

As consolation, advice and stories went on, a young girl with eyes that resemble a puff of grey cloud in the sky waiting for downpour, offers coffee to those who want it. Few refuse, many ask her to fill their cups twice.

Without a doubt the topic of death arises & the fact that these days you don’t necessarily have to be old to die finds a mention yet again. “She would always cry when I came back here” says my aunt, her voice heavy with vivid emotions. “But this time when I bid goodbye, she didn’t shed a tear” she ends the note with a heavy sigh. Perhaps a mere sigh wouldn’t relieve her of the pain she’s feeling. I’m sure it wouldn’t.

The girl with grey eyes comfortably settled herself on the sofa in a corner, watching all her aunt’s hover around her mother as she wailed for her mother. Her skinny feet shuffle in a manner that makes her worry evident. With eyes fixed on her mother her lips part in silent apprehension as she moves her hands excessively.

“In the beginning of this year, she told me to hurry up & visit her otherwise she’d leave for South Africa”, little did the old woman realise where she was when she asked her daughter to pay her a visit. In the care of a son & a daughter in law, the frail creature was often visited by memories of a past she cherished deeply.

As I was looking out the window in the backseat of our car, I realised how much history everyone carries with them. The part that saddens me is that they know little to almost nothing about it. Some don’t even wish to discover their origins. A new life, a new country becomes such an integral part of their lives that what was once a place they called home becomes nothing more than a distant memory.

But what really is the point of holding on to the past, right?


I’m a keen observer by nature, not by choice. This prompt is not meant to hurt sentiments of any group in any possible way. I did feel the need to let out my thoughts about this particular issue. Being an expatriate experiencing a culture that I could live in forever if I choose to yet I feel obliged to not undermine the values inside me. Even though it would be practical to consider options like safety & a lifestyle I’ve been used to since childhood. But my choices are never governed by comfort or leisure.

I’m Indian by birth & choice. Maybe I feel this way because I’ve never actually lived in my home land for more than a year but I’m sure I can find my place in a country as diverse as India. My apprehensions about moving to India demand another post which I’ll make sure to keep short & concise.


P.S

Apologies for such a long read.

Little Things

A promotion this week,

At a job you excel.

The success you seek,

Lies on your doorstep.

A dinner at an outlet,

With people you call family.

Tonight you welcome all expenses,

For money is the remedy.

She stares at the roof,

Waiting for daddy to be home.

But the brother calls her a fool,

Telling her to loose hope.

A little drawing is clipped,

With a magnet on the refrigerator.

But daddy remains hooked,

On his morning newspaper.

The little girl in the drawing,

Holds her daddy’s hand.

They both are laughing,

As they take a stroll in wonderland.

With money on his mind,

He leaves for work everyday.

Little things remain undermined,

Killing families day by day.

-Nameera.