Posts by Arbaz Fahad

From Jerusalem to Kashmir- Treading along the path of the Saviour

Rozabal, Khanyaar district, Kashmir-2015   Even as the nail biting chill of January forces everyone to stay amidst the vicinity of Kangri and Kahwa, pilgrims continue to flow in to pay reverence to the shrine of the local saint, Yuz Asouph. The word Rozabal is derived from the Kashmiri term Rauza-Bal meaning “Tomb of the Prophet”. Local traditions affirm that Yuz Asouph was a devout and pious Muslim, who’d given

The Exorcism Of Fawad Hashmi

“Slowly Fawad, You’re scaring me,” implored Mehar, holding on tightly to her seat. “Chill, babes. The intoxication of speed, of uncertainty, of fathoming into the unknown, is irrepressible,” replied Fawad.   Fawad was steering his wheels at an incredibly brisk pace. He’d the uncanny knack of trespassing limits, time and again. He’d say: “Limit, boundaries, perimeters-these are apocryphal notions developed by debased men; men, who failed to intrude certain checkpoints

The Spring that Shall Last Forever- Part 2

(Read Part One here)   I rushed back to the camp in a helter skelter, along with Mehnaaz. I kept running, stumbling upon cadaverous entities, completely oblivious to the chaos and disarray around, which had engulfed the stillness of the surroundings in a whisker. I crouched behind a huge boulder, intently trying to control my nerves. Baba always said, “A tranquil mind is half the battle”. The men were being

The Spring that Shall Last Forever- Part 1

15th May, 1948. Deir Yassin, Palestine. Six hours before Al Nakba-The Catastrophe.   As the sun steadily gathered its crimson hues, thereby scathing the sky with a reddish texture and the breeze embarked on its westward rendezvous, I anxiously halted near the apricot tree waiting for Baba to return from the orchard. I often wondered how Baba managed to tend to all his familial responsibilities so efficiently with such limited

The Second Marriage

In Islamic etymology, Tasneem refers to a “fountain in Paradise”. However, for Tasneem Raza Hydari, her name had spelt catastrophe and a rugged life clinging to the portents of adversity. Her mind and soul were ferociously bumping against each other amidst the mist of her contradictory emotions. Her eyes welled up with tears as she braced herself for her second stake. This time around she was gambling her spirit and

Will You Marry Me Again?

She was dead. This very night, seven years ago.   The streets were buzzing with clamor, a definite indicative of the festive season. The heavy rains, the snow, the sleet, winds blowing with callous ferocity- nothing could dampen the spirits of people. This was a time to celebrate, to make merry, to forgive and forget. This was the day when the savior was born; born to redeem mankind of the

Mortal and Immortal

Those deep black eyes, Shattering the illusions of my apparent arrogance. Your piercing gaze, Hard and sharp as a flint; Cleaving my soul and slashing my conscience, Leaving me to bleed At the altars of your callousness. Your love is the antidote To the scars and scrapes on my soul, For I’ve fallen To the cumulative assaults of your eyes. To hold my hand until eternity Or let me fall

The Kiss of Redemption

~ 4th Feb, 2012 ~   I staggered my way through the broken window panes and the shattered wind screen. It’d been a bad accident, but call it sheer luck, or an abstract case of divine intervention, I managed to survive virtually unscathed. My car had bumped into a large tree. The only thing was that my head was aching woefully, as if I’d bumped my head against a large

Shared Existence

“Disgusting! How can you like him?” asked Sidra loudly. “Shut up. His smile is just so beautiful. It has this wow effect on me,” replied Sadaf. “But, Emraan Hashmi? I thought you were endowed with a better taste,” retorted Sidra.   “Well, you are being unfair to him. He is noted for his exhilarating onscreen performances. Moreover, a blockbuster music album is a certainty in every Emraan Hashmi movie. Besides,

Zindagi Gulzar Hai

“You’ve cheated us” shouted Falak aapi’s father-in-law in a shrilling tone. Her mother and father were trying hard to pacify her in-laws.   Falak aapi gazed at the whole fiasco, from a distance, lying on the bed, her nose covered by an oxygen mask and couple of tiny tubes making their way into her nasal cavity. Beside her, lay her newly born son, sleeping soundly, oblivious to the pandemonium around

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