ramblingsofuncertainty

[ramblingsofuncertainty]

Thursday

12:15 PM. Amidst the hurried pace of the university, I find myself captivated by a tiny universe unfolding at my feet. I stop, transfixed, as a trail of industrious ants navigate the cracks in the walkway. The bustling world walks past, unaware of the intricate dance happening just inches away. The sound of footsteps and passing blends into a distant hum as I focus on the scene before me.

I kneel down, careful not to disrupt their delicate path. The soft murmurs of their movements create a symphony of tiny vibrations. Each tiny ant carries out its duty with purpose and determination, moving with precision and coordination. Their tiny legs scuttle across the concrete and red brick, perhaps leaving a trail of miniature footprints that we cannot see but the other ants sense, forming neat rows as they march forward.

I observe their tireless efforts, mesmerized by their tenacity. The scent of the heated grass lingers in the air, mingling with the earthy scent of the wet earth nearby. The gentle breeze carries the faint whispers of their existence, as if nature itself is whispering secrets of resilience.

As the world rushes by, I become enveloped in a quiet reverence, feeling a sense of connection to this microcosm of life. The ants, with their unwavering commitment to their tasks, remind me to slow down and appreciate the simplicity of the present moment.

For a brief interlude, time stands still. The bustling students fade into the background, and I find solace in the simplicity of watching these tiny creatures go about their day. In this quiet observation, I am reminded of overlooked details, the marvels that exist in the most unassuming places.

I rise from my crouched position and rejoin the world in motion. Perhaps it is not so difficult to find beauty in the small and the ordinary, one only has to pause and look hard enough.

[ramblingsofuncertainty]

Tuesday

2:00 PM. Along the pathway that marks my pathway back to the dorms, a captivating journey awaits. The trees, adorned with vibrant hues of autumn, form a majestic canopy overhead. Rays of sunlight seep through the gaps, casting a golden glow upon the path below. As I take each step, a satisfying crunch resonates through the air, a symphony of fallen leaves crushed underfoot.

The intensity of the midday sun pierces through the foliage, creating pockets of dazzling brightness that momentarily blind me. Shielding my eyes with a hand, I squint and continue my journey, feeling the heat that envelops my skin. The scent of dry leaves fills the air, their earthy fragrance mingling with the crispness of the autumn breeze.

The fallen leaves, once vibrant and full of life, now lay scattered in a patchwork of reds, oranges, and yellows. They form a textured carpet that blankets the pathway, inviting me to kick up the rustling layers with each stride. Their crackling sound echoes through the uncharacterisitic stillness of today, harmonizing with the rhythmic rustling of the breeze as it dances through the branches above.

As I walk, sunlight filters through the branches, casting intricate patterns of light and shadow upon the path. The shifting mosaic plays a game of hide-and-seek. I find myself immersed in this scene, a whimsical collaboration between nature and sunlight.

The glare of the sun adds a surreal element of intensity to the scene, as if nature itself is emphasizing the fleeting nature of this autumn spectacle. It casts a radiant spotlight upon the path, accentuating the vivid colors of the fallen leaves. I can't help but be captivated by the mesmerizing contrast between the blinding brilliance of the sun and the rich, earthy tones of the foliage.

With each step, I feel a satisfying resistance underfoot, a reminder of the ever-changing seasons and the transient beauty of nature's cycles. The pathway, adorned with a tapestry of fallen leaves, invites me to revel in the present moment, to lose myself in the harmony of sight, sound, and sensation.

Somehow this fleeting moment leaves an indelible mark upon my senses, a reminder of the fleeting beauty that can be found even in the simplest of moments.

[ramblingsofuncertainty]

Monday

12:30. Stepping out into the scorching heat, the oppressive air wraps itself around me like a suffocating embrace. The sun beats down relentlessly, casting an unforgiving glare on everything in its path. The world feels heavy, as if it's holding its breath, waiting for respite from the sweltering heat.

Seeking shade, I spot a group of squirrels frolicking beneath the sheltering branches of a tree. Their small bodies dart and scurry, agile and nimble, as they chase each other with boundless energy. Their fluffy tails flicker in the air, painting moments of joy against the backdrop of a stifling afternoon.

The sight of the squirrels brings a momentary relief, a break from the monotony of the heat. Their playful antics inject life into the stillness. They seem oblivious to the oppressive atmosphere, finding solace and sustenance in the simple act of gathering beneath the shade.

As I watch, I can hear the distant hum of cars in the background, a reminder of the bustling world beyond this tranquil scene. The sound seems distant and distorted, as if filtered through a thick veil of heat. It's a stark contrast to the calm and serenity within the small pocket of nature that the squirrels have claimed as their own.

The surrounding flowers, once vibrant and alive, now wilt under the weight of the scorching sun. Petals droop and colors fade, leaving a muted palette of browns and yellows. The delicate fragrance that usually perfumes the air is replaced by a dry, earthy smell, as if the flowers themselves are gasping for relief.

Despite the oppressive heat and the wilting flowers, the squirrels continue to nibble on food and water left out for them, their tiny mouths working with purpose. Their determination is admirable, a reminder that life persists even in the harshest conditions. They embody a quiet resilience, finding nourishment and sustenance amidst the adversity.

In this moment, I am both an observer and a participant in the scene before me. The squirrels captivate my attention, offering a brief respite from the discomfort of the sweltering heat. 

As I leave the shade of the tree and step back into the oppressive heat, the image of the squirrels remains etched in my mind. Their playfulness echoing in the background noise of cars, and the wilted flowers gently whispering joy amidst the scorching heat.

[ramblingsofuncertainty]

Wednesday

4:25 pm. The piercing screech of the one-way spikes reverberates through the air as I walk past them once again. It's a sound that never fails to send shivers down my spine, jolting me out of my thoughts and grounding me in the present moment.

The metallic clang echoes, cutting through the surrounding soundscape like a sharp knife. It's a jarring sound, one that seems out of place amidst the rhythm of the university. The cacophony of car horns, distant chatter, and footsteps suddenly fades into the background, overshadowed by the piercing noise of these deterrents.

The spikes themselves stand as guardians, lining the path with their sharp, menacing tips. They serve as a reminder of the invisible barriers that confine me within all the boundaries I must exist within. Each step I take, the spikes release their sharp cry, a warning to those who dare to challenge the established order.

The sound seems to linger in the air, lingering like a discordant melody that refuses to fade away. It invades my senses, leaving a lingering discomfort in its wake. It's a sound that I have become intimately familiar with, a daily assault on my ears that chips away at my peace of mind.

As I continue my journey, the sound gradually recedes into the background, blending with the symphony of the road once again. But the memory of its sharpness remains, etched in my mind like an indelible mark. 

And so, I walk past the one-way spikes everyday. And everyday I must endure the assault on my senses, to jump each time a car passes by, rudely reminded again and again of the lack of control I have over my own bodys reactions to a simple sound. It's a reminder of the lack of control of the dissonance between my thoughts and myself.

[ramblingsofuncertainty]

Tuesday

11:30 pm. I found myself captivated. I stumbled upon an old photograph of myself as a happy child. As I held the faded image in my hands, a bittersweet wave of emotions washed over me. The vibrant colors of the photograph are now muted, much like the memories it held.

In the picture, I saw a younger version of myself, full of innocence and joy. A smile adorned my face, radiating pure happiness. The carefree laughter captured in that frozen moment seemed like a distant echo, a reminder of a time when life felt simpler and the weight of the world had yet to be placed upon my shoulders.

As I gazed at the photograph, a profound sense of loss settled within me. It was as if I were peering through a window into the past, yearning to reclaim a piece of that unburdened joy. The contrast between the vibrant image before me and the complexities of the present reality is stark and unforgiving.

The sense of loss permeated my senses. I could almost smell the crisp beach air from the day the photograph was taken. The weight of nostalgia settled upon my chest, as if I were carrying the weight of those moments.

The sound of my own laughter, so vivid in the photograph, echoed faintly in my ears. A reminder of the unabashed joy that once coursed through the veins of that child. The laughter in the picture spoke of a time when happiness was effortless.

The colors in the photograph, though faded, still whispered stories of a vibrant past. The hues of the world around me were once more saturated, alive with possibility and wonder. The colors now seem dull and muted.

[ramblingsofuncertainty]

Sunday

5:30 PM. Fatigued from the day's activities, I seek solace on the staircase leading towards the basement. As I settle down, the late afternoon sun casts a warm, golden glow over the world around me. I watch as the undulating shadows dance upon the wall, their movements choreographed by the majestic canopy of a nearby tree.

The gentle rustle of leaves accompanies the soft breeze, a delicate symphony of nature's whisperings. The sound of distant laughter and conversation create a backdrop of distant melodies, fading in and out of my consciousness. But it is the rhythmic dance of light and shadow that captures my attention, drawing me into a tranquil state of observation.

The interplay between sunlight and foliage paints an ever-changing mural on the wall before me. The dappled patterns shift and sway, like ethereal brushstrokes on an invisible canvas. The flickering shadows create a sense of movement, as if the tree itself is breathing, alive with silent energy.

As the minutes pass, the angle of the sun changes, transforming the composition of the shadows. The golden hues deepen into warm amber, casting a gentle glow that bathes the surroundings in a soft, comforting light. I feel the warmth against my skin, soothing my body.

The air carries a faint scent of heated flowers, mingled with the earthy aroma of damp soil and mown grass. The essence of nature envelops me, inviting me to breathe in deeply and immerse myself in the present moment. I close my eyes, allowing the sensory symphony to wash over me.

In this quiet reverie, time becomes fluid, and the worries of the day fade into insignificance. I am transported to a place of stillness, where the undulating shadows and whispers of nature hold sway. The staircase becomes my sanctuary, a vantage point from which to witness the magic of the everyday.

Reluctantly, I rise from my perch. But their essence lingers within meand I carry the tranquility the moment has bestowed upon me, back to the dorms. I hope this feeling stays.

[ramblingsofuncertainty]

Sunday

8:45 PM. I find myself sitting in the car, numb and unaware of what is going on outside or even inside the car. Something has made me aware of the non state. As the car vibrates slightly on the uneven road beneath , I gaze out through the side window, my eyes fixed on the world outside. The darkness of the night envelops everything, casting a melancholy veil over the street.

Amidst the gloom, a mesmerizing spectacle unfolds before my eyes. Lights come to life, vibrant and electric, in ridiculous shapes; flowers and animals, monuments local and foreign in an almost ridiculous show of gaiety, illuminating the night with a kaleidoscope of colors. They dance and flicker, painting the surrounding buildings and structures in an unatural glow. Each hue is a cry for attention in the vast sea of darkness.

But despite the vibrant display, a sense of melancholy settles upon me like a heavy blanket. The juxtaposition of the lively lights against the desolation of tonight amplifies my introspection. As the car speeds along, the world outside flashes by in a blur, a series of fleeting moments that refuse to be captured.

The lights, so bright and alluring, make me think that they are such an apt symbol for transience, a reminder of the fleeting nature of life itself. They twinkle and shimmer, their radiance piercing through the darkness, yet their presence feels ephemeral, like a passing dream that fades upon waking. 

As the world rushes past, each glimpse of the illuminated scenes evokes a bittersweet anger. I am simultaneously captivated, unable to look away from the garish display of ridiculous excess, how much have they thrown away on this display that serves no real purpose in adding to the beauty of the space and must cost so much to light up every night, such a wast of energy and resources. These days all I can seem to feel is anger or melancholy, caught between the desire to hold onto fleeting moments and knowing that they are slipping through my fingers like grains of sand.

Outside, the bright lights continue to flash by.

[ramblingsofuncertainty]

Thursday

8:20 am. Stepping outside into the cool morning air, I'm immediately enveloped in a thick fog. It wraps around me like a soft, hazy blanket, obscuring my surroundings and muffling the sounds of the world. The familiar sights are shrouded in a mystical haze, and the normally bustling road is transformed into a serene, otherworldly realm.

As I begin my walk, my steps feel lighter, as if the fog carries some of the weight off my shoulders. There's a comforting sense of relief in this foggy embrace, like the world has been muted and simplified, leaving only the present moment. It's a rare reprieve from the noise and chaos of everyday.

The silence that accompanies the fog is both soothing and mesmerizing. The usual sounds of car horns, chattering voices, and distant sirens are muffled, creating a cocoon of tranquility. Each step I take seems to echo through the stillness, creating a rhythm that matches the beating of my own heart.

The thick fog dampens my senses, blurring the boundaries between the physical world and my thoughts. It's as if my mind, too, is wrapped in a gentle haze, allowing me to retreat from the outside world and dive deep into my inner thoughts and emotions. The fog acts as a buffer, shielding me from the distractions and demands of the day, giving me a chance to find solace in the stillness.

In this foggy sanctuary, I feel a sense of belonging and familiarity. It's as if I've stumbled upon a secret haven, a place where I can be alone with my thoughts, free from my own expectations. The fog becomes my companion, a silent confidant that understands without words, offering solace in its ethereal presence.

As I navigate through the misty pathway, I can't help but appreciate the beauty of this temporary transformation. The droplets of moisture glisten on the leaves and create delicate patterns on the ground. The world seems to be holding its breath, as if waiting for something magical to happen.

In this moment, I find myself at home in the silence and haze. The fog, with its comforting embrace, allows me to savor the simplicity of each step, and to find peace. 

[ramblingsofuncertainty]

Old Entries

Ramblings

Sunday

3:15. The silence is nice. I can talk to Allah swt and I feel safe at this moment. The stillness of the night isn't stifling. I don't turn on the fan even though it's hot. I like the silence. My thoughts are quite too

7:10. I don't want to get up but I've already jumped off the bed. Need to get breakfast ready. Need to take medicine. Need to hurry hurry hurry.

9:15. Panic and dread.

11:50. Relief. Exhaustion. 

2:42. I had this really intense need to be talking about it with Saadia. Can't call her cos she's probably sleeping. And this urge might become less and then I'll make excuses to myself to not call her. But I wish we were exhausted and lying in her room ranting. Or maybe not even that. Just being quiet. She'd be watching something stupid like NCIS or suits or something and I’d be squished in her giant beanbag (territory Id claimed long ago) I remember the neck ache I got when Id been squished in it too long. Her mom would poke her head in and shake her head at us and bring us pasta. Or chicken bread! Man, I miss that chicken bread. The squishy peices of corn that would pop in your mouth and the hot buttery peppery chicken.

She knows me inside out. I don't want to burden her right now. She can't do anything about it being so far away.

I'm happy, reminiscing while writing about her, and it hasn't made me sad, in a surprising turn of events. I think my circuitry is messed up. But happy accidental serotonin is still serotonin and I'm grateful.

Monday

Didn't write the whole day. Brain feels like a fog. No emotions. I just need sleep. 

Tuesday

9.:40. Stopped to have a conversation with a squirrel. It seemed interested, but then decided it didn't have the time. Squirrel business called. And I was late for class

9:43. Needed to make a call and that was it for the day. Cue the mind haze. All the emotions all at once. And none at the same time.

Music to shut out the thoughts. Helped a bit.

P realized something was up. As much as I felt cheery and awake at the end of the day, but she knew something was off. I couldn't put a finger on it til she said it. Despite trying trying to distract myself, I still felt like there is a pulling, scratching inside. I'm craving something and I don't know what it is. Bit it's like a dull sort of scratch, like the echo of a thing

Thursday

4:57. Missed fajr. Feel like shit. Had nightmares, woke up feeling more exhausted than when I slept. I haven't been able to dream for like five or six years. But nightmares are becoming a thing now.

8.25. Tried to wake up but the day already feels exhausting and I don't want to deal with it

9:20. Fell asleep and woke up in a panic. There's so much that needs to be done. I have so much work. How can anything feel exciting when there is always anxiety and panic that's flooding my brain. 

9:55. My joy in realizing they've made eggs for breakfast today is fleeting. The eggs are burnt at the edges and dry. I still eat them, my mouth feels like what I imagine it must feel like to wake up from surgery, desperate for water. I'm being ungrateful and I dont like it. It's food. Why am I being like this?

Cant feel much today.

4:50. Decided to take a nap. Woke up in a panic again because I thought I'd slept for three hours instead of one. Body hurts and I don't want to get up. I'll procrastinate more and then the day is over and I've done nothing.

8:05. Feeling good. Found myself humming something. Surprised enough to want to write it down. I feel like I can get something done. Making tea, then getting down to work. I feel like I'm in flow. Hope this stays!

P.S. it didn't stay. Something happened and all sense of time and work and sanity was gone. (Writing this on Thursday)

Friday

I broke the streak today. I didn't want to write down anything the whole day so now I'm writing it at the end of the day. I woke up with a numbness in my body. Had nightmares again. It's getting both more difficult and easier to get up. I can't explain it.

There's this short stretch of trees lining the football field that blooms with these hanging yellow flowers that always snaps me back to the present and gives a couple of seconds of relief everyday. Today it just made me annoyed (there aren't any blooms but the walk usually is still pleasant) because I realized the absence of that relief and that is what jolted me out of my thoughts. Not the relief but the lack of it. 

Everything felt off today. It's exhausting living with myself. 

I came back and slept. I just want to sleep. Forced myself to eat. I can't work. I can't work. I can't work. I'm trying. I have class at 6am. I don't want to be. There's too much noise. Writing all these things down is making everything more concrete. It's the fig tree again. From Sylvia Plaths Bell Jar. But the roots shriveled up and wilted and the trunk is hollow too. No possibilities lying blackened at my feet. They are a distant memory, haunting  the air with a rotten smell. 

(P.S. (writing this on Saturday: I feel disconnected reading what I wrote last night. I don't want to linger on it. That person was there. So was one who was not in that state. I feel like a conduit, in this moment, reading the previous entries, they feel like versions of me that exist and existed, a product of the things happening to me at the time)

Saturday

Today I felt disconnected, outside of my body. Woke up tired again but almost mechanically, went through the motions of getting up and getting through the day. 

I'm relieved though. Beats yesterday in any case.

Saturday/Sunday:

(A summary): I did not open this up to write anything for the past two days because I was in a good place after a very long time. I passively tried to understand what triggered it but couldn't. Coming back to why I didn't write. Writing things down forces me to confront what's going on in my head and usually that untangles whatevers up there and when the thoughts become clear, they are usually not very pleasant. And so I wanted to live in denial for a little bit longer. 

Sunday

9.09: Panic again. but dull. I have to work. There might be eggs. 

11.06: Mediocrity scares me. I don't want to be a blob of nothingness. I have worlds inside of me, I have been so many me-s, they were all people with thoughts and emotions and intelligence. I feel like I have lost grip of so many of those versions of myself, and of the potential that they all had. Now everything I do feels like I am dragging myself through a thick sludge of effort, pushing pushing pushing. My head feels dull and more empty than it used to be. 

The air feels thick. Dead, no crispness in it, just a lingering heat and smell of dead grass

Monday

4:40. Unraveling. The air is nice today, feels fresh and crisp. I can smell the freshly mowed grass of the football ground as a linger on my way back

5.:15. A summary of today: Flow state. I found myself quite unexpectedly in a state of flow, like everything was aligned and I was getting things done. Things seemed to be rolling off of me, I just kept working like nothing mattered and I actually felt happy with the work I made, and when I made something not so good, it didn't stop me. It felt like I side stepped a ditch that would have pulled me in, and I was just able to brush it off so easily and move on. I felt like a person. I felt complete. Like otherwise there's always echoes of me slightly lagging or moving ahead and I'm just trying to keep track of the pieces to move together and making the effort of carrying all the scrambling, falling, scattered pieces keeps me occupied

6:20. A word out of place. And it started this echo that kept reverberating and bouncing back and forth off the walls of my mind. And it shook everything out of place. Like a tiny tremor that upsets the precarious balance that had been a happy accident. 

The crows and their noise just before maghrib remind me of Karachi and the breezy evening air, that smells like dust and sticks to your face on the sheen of oil covering your sticky skin at the end of a long day. The smell of gasoline and petrol heavy and clinging to your clothes, coming home with you

Tuesday

My thoughts are not my own. Not writing today. 

Wednesday

I like this moment. Its the end of the day and I linger going back. My walk is deliberately slow and I focus and at the same time watch without seeing, the details of the accumulated dust on the sidewalk. The cars passing by seem slow and fast at the same time, their noise amplified for some reason. The sound is grating but I cant hear it even though everything feels heightened.