Writer's Canvas

Blue and Waves.  Zahabiya Jorbai .   Daraja Tasea - D.Z.       I' ve always found it difficult to find the perfect words to express what truly lies within me. But after journeying through the past two years, I think I have finally found the perfect way, and chance to convey it all.       Art has always been in my nerves since the beginning, experimenting with creative stuff, and luckily being the only daughter, I could easily make my way of getting what I needed ;) . The creative genes I think, came from my mother. She painted ridas and designed them, exposing me to this wonderful talent, and ever since, colors have never failed to fascinate me.      When in school, I always used to participate in art attacks and crave for platforms where I could challenge my creative soul. Then comes the greatest milestone of my life - in the ninth grade, I got fortunate and was blessed to get into Al-Jamea Tus-Saifiyah. I experienced a tran...

 My Escape.   Painted by - Fatema Shabbir Wahla.  Daraja Sadesa.  Yearning for emancipation,  And freedom from these tough times,  Sitting at my desk I reminisce,    The serene moments spent here with my close ones,  A time I really miss.  This place untouched and safe,   Far away from the befallen blight.    When the body might be confined.  Free to wander is my mind.  This vastness and its peace,  Revolting against these imprisoning times!

Today, I'm Taking a Step Behind.     Anonymous.  To all the people who have hurt me, I'm letting go with a sigh, Because I can't change your thoughts about me, So I'll just leave you behind.   I won't shoot bullets in the sky, Nor will rifles of criticism fly, Nor will I throw at you hand grenades of anger, Now, I put my hands up in surrender.   I won't be tormented, with the pain of ‘not being enough’. For I believe, an antidote of love makes me stronger. I'm putting my guns down today, And I'm taking a step behind. My body may be handcuffed, But my mind shall never be seized.   After years of a hunt for the one, who'll love me as I am, I see her now in the mirror, as she says: “Embrace yourself widely and accept yourself as you are”, Now I'll live freely with the knowledge that I am flawed, That perfections are a gift to be awed!   I'll free myself from trying to please others, I see myself wo...

  The Games People Play and the Masks They Wear.  Naqiyah Shk Abbas Motiwala.  Daraja Sabea. It was all carefully planned. Every step was measured. Every Sentence was scripted. Each word carefully chosen; a small mistake could leak the secret and she could lose the game.  Who said hunting was only a man’s sport? It’s a game. Anyone can play. They used guns. But she had different weapons. They would usually hunt for deers. But her aim would be for the lions. She wouldn’t settle down for a “prey”, she liked hunting down the “hunters”!  She was evil with cruel intentions. But showed to be an angel with pure innocence. One might take her as vulnerable, easy to be fooled, easy to be played around with. Little did they know it was all a part of her act, and they were helping her win the game. In fact, ‘they’ were the joke she was laughing at. How easily they would assume her sweet laughter to be a sign of falling in love, whereas it was actually a trap, in which...

  Meeting Deja vu!  Zainab Mustaali Sutterwala.  Darajah Ashera. The first time you saw me, You gave a bewildered look. I smiled," Pleased to meet you.” But you just stood there- shook.   I waited for your reply. You said, "Was it a dream? Your pardi ruffled just this way, And the exact shade of cream?"   I gave a little chuckle, As all that I had to say: "I get that a lot, Almost every week of the day.   All the new things you tell me, I've been there, I've done that. You've heard history repeats itself? But it's never been so exact."   There was conception in your eyes; It was ditto to what you felt. That how easily I had explained. With simple words I dealt.   "It was really nice to meet you." I bid you goodbye, As you still stood bewildered, And gave out a sigh.