"I Don’t Know Anymore"

I’ve stopped hoping.

Not in everything—

Just in this world,

This fake one.

This knock-off version of something that once had soul.

Plato called it imitation.

He was right.

Whatever’s real is elsewhere.

I still believe in that place.

The one beyond this scripted chaos.

But here?

This world’s a glitch.

I had a rough start—

but I thought adulthood would hand me a plot twist.

Turns out, it’s just

the same storm

with new furniture.

Career?

Crumbling.

Love?

An echo.

Family?

A ghost town.

And my health—

my body’s writing poetry in pain,

every limb a stanza of ache.

I didn’t know I had this much room

to store sorrow.

Now I’m overflowing.

These “lessons,”

these “tests”—

they don’t feel like growth.

They feel like slow erasure.

I’m not okay.

I’m not even pretending well.

Even if happiness shows up,

it’d bounce right off.

It wouldn’t know where to land.

Maybe the universe thought I was tough.

Maybe it bet on my endurance.

But I wanna ask—

Hey, you watching?

Do you see me—

fading out?

My petals?

They’ve lost their blush.

Touch me now,

I’ll fall apart like dry leaves in your hand.

Whatever pushed me here,

dragged me into this version of myself,

hasn’t left a map back.

And all I have left—

is three syllables.

Whispered, broken, real:

I don’t know.

"I Tried to Obey"

When I was a girl with ribbons in my hair,

They taught me: Obey — and life will be fair.

Mother, Father, Aunt in their choir of trust,

Sang obedience as law, as life, as must.

And I — little heart, eager and small —

Believed, because I wanted to believe it all.

I bowed my head, I stitched my soul,

To every word, every heavy toll.

But suffering grew where peace was sown,

Tears became seeds, and I wept alone.

While I bent and broke to meet their call,

No hands reached out to catch my fall.

I tried so hard, I fought so blind,

Obedience carved scars deep in my mind.

Their ways were crooked, their paths were wrong —

I learned it bleeding, I learned it long.

So I rebelled, a storm unchained,

A woman unbowed, battle-stained.

Yet still, the hunger for home remained —

A heart, a harbor, to ease my pain.

I loved a stranger, placed my crown,

At his feet, laid my armor down.

Hoped his voice, unlike theirs, was kind —

Hoped his hands would heal my mind.

But obedience tasted bitter again,

Betrayal wore another man’s name.

And so I rose, fierce and free,

Breaking the chains they forged for me.

Now, I obey no master, no kin —

My law is the fire that burns within.

I don't know what I'll answer my God,

But I will say: I tried, oh Lord, I trod.

I obeyed the wrong, I loved the wrong,

Yet from their ruins, I built my song.

Judge me not by the scars I bear,

But by the battles that taught me care.

I tried to obey, and I tried to trust —

But their promises crumbled into dust.

A Promise to Myself

I have made a promise to myself,

And I am good at keeping promises.

No longer will I pour my soul into empty hands,

No longer will I offer my light to those

Who do not know the cost of its burning.

Every tear I cried found a wounded stranger,

And I thought — they need saving.

So I gave them my arms, my strength, my breath,

But they were weeping for the ruins they built themselves.

And I, faultless in my devotion,

Paid the price for their storms.

I have made a promise to myself,

And I am good at keeping promises.

No longer will my kindness be currency

For the loyalty that never comes.

Every embrace I gave, every wound I mended,

Will now belong to me.

I have seen faces shattered by sorrow,

I have offered them all that I had —

Gentle hands, patient love, a quiet place to heal.

But when they found joy,

They left my hands empty,

As if I were a ghost of their own making.

I have made a promise to myself,

And I am good at keeping promises.

No stranger shall sip from my chalice

While I thirst for a love unreturned.

No unfamiliar sorrow shall steal my tenderness

When my own heart still bleeds.

I know the depth of my own wounds,

I know the history of my own battles.

I will be the embrace I always sought,

The comfort I once scattered like seeds in barren fields.

Every tear I wiped for another,

I will now wipe from my own cheek.

Every heart I kept from breaking,

I will now fiercely guard within my chest.

Every healing touch I gave away,

I will lay, tender and fierce, upon my own soul.

I have made a promise to myself,

And I am good —

So very good —

At keeping promises.

"In the Maze, I Call You"

(A poem dedicated to Allah)

Ya Allah, I am in a maze,

Walls rising high in a sorrowful haze.

This life I lead feels worn and wrong—

Is it illness that hums, or have I strayed too long?

Why don’t You talk to me, O Allah, why?

I know You speak in silence, but still I cry.

These questions burn within my chest,

And in Your stillness, I find unrest.

What happens, my Lord, when a lover yearns,

But silence is the only return?

Am I a servant who’s lost her place?

Still, I ache for even a glimpse of Your grace.

I whisper to You: I still love You,

Though my hands may falter, my heart is true.

Hope has left me in many lands,

But not in You—not in Your hands.

I’ve caused pain though I meant to heal,

Mistook my kindness for wounds too real.

I stand now where I can’t see light,

Yet still I search for You in this night.

When I was a child, Your love was near,

Pure, unshaken, without fear.

Woe to this world that clouds my view,

Of that simple, sacred love I knew.

If I betrayed You, forgive my thought—

I trusted You would save me, no matter what.

Is that wrong? Is that love naive?

Or the trembling hope of one who believes?

I wish I lived in the Prophet’s time,

Where mercy bloomed and hearts could climb.

He would have seen the storm in me,

And calmed it with his empathy.

Now the world is heavy, the people cold,

Even the wise feel worn and old.

They ask for light I cannot give,

For even I forget how to live.

Life and death—their veil so thin,

Each breath a struggle deep within.

When I reach for You, my health pulls back—

A chain, a wound, a shadowed track.

Is it this test that makes me fall?

This fragile body, this mortal wall?

I try, O Allah, I truly try—

But I stumble still, and wonder why.

Am I evil? Or just unwell?

In this silence, it's hard to tell.

What do You see when You see me?

A lost soul, or one who strives quietly?

Do You know me as bad—or good?

Or a girl still learning what she should?

Ya Allah, if You know my heart,

Then let that be where mercy starts.

A Personal Guide on How to Not Crumble Under Pressure.

 How to Avoid Pressure in a Competitive World: 

In a world where everyone seems to be sprinting toward success, it's easy to feel left behind. Scroll through social media or listen to conversations around you, and you'll hear nothing but victories, celebrations, and polished success stories. What you don’t see is the exhaustion, the breakdowns, or the self-doubt behind those curated moments. And in that silence, you may start to wonder: Am I enough?

If you’ve ever felt that way, take a breath. You’re not alone. And you don’t have to crumble under the weight of pressure. Here’s how you can slowly, gently, and mindfully protect your peace.

1. Detach to Stay Focused

In a noisy, comparison-driven world, practicing detachment is a quiet superpower. You don’t need to constantly engage with what everyone else is doing. If it derails your focus or fuels self-doubt, step back. Detachment isn’t ignorance—it’s wisdom. It’s choosing silence over noise, clarity over chaos. Avoid people, habits, or even content that disturbs your mental equilibrium.

2. Consistency Over Intensity

You don’t need to make giant leaps every day. Small steps, taken consistently, are enough. Whether it’s working on a skill, managing your emotions, or building a healthy routine—keep showing up. Even when it feels pointless. Especially when it feels pointless. Because consistency is the quiet bridge between where you are and where you want to be.

3. Move Your Body, Even for 10 Minutes

You don’t need a gym subscription or a strict workout regimen. Just move. A ten-minute walk. A stretch. A dance to your favorite song. Movement is medicine—it clears your mind, balances your hormones, and reminds you that you are alive.

4. Pause for Prayer or Meditation

A few minutes of silence can change the entire tone of your day. Pray, meditate, or just breathe deeply with intention. Let those moments reconnect you with something larger than yourself. Peace doesn't always come from answers—it comes from surrender.

5. Celebrate the Small Wins

Don’t wait for a big break to feel proud. Got out of bed despite the weight on your chest? Celebrate. Finished that long-pending email? Celebrate. Progress isn’t loud, and success isn’t always dramatic. But when you honour your small wins, you train your mind to stay hopeful. And hope is your anchor.

6. Let Go of What’s Holding You Back

We all have that one flaw or shortcoming that whispers, “You’re not enough.” And if toxic people are around, they’ll scream it louder. But here’s the truth: your flaws make you you. Original. Real. No one’s perfect. Not even those who seem flawless. Accept yourself, gently and fully. And remember—not everyone will love you even when you’re perfect. Find the ones who stay, even when you’re not. One real connection outweighs a thousand hollow ones.

7. Radiate What You Want to Receive

Want love? Be loving. Want appreciation? Start appreciating. The energy you send out has a mysterious way of circling back. Stop feeding the universe your insecurities and bitterness. Send light. Send kindness. It will find its way back—maybe not from where you expect, but it will return.

8. Handling Failure: Pretend Until You Believe

Failure feels heavier when you’re surrounded by people who appear to be winning. But remember, everyone has their low days—you just might not see them. When life feels like an endless loop of disappointments, wear a mask if you must. Smile. Show up. Pretend that you're thriving in your own way until one day, you no longer have to pretend. It becomes your truth.

9. Find Your Mantra and Repeat It

When life keeps throwing the same bitter lemons your way, anchor yourself in words that heal. It could be a prayer, a quote, or a sentence only you understand. Repeat it. Enchant it. Let it become your anthem. Your mind listens to what you feed it—make sure you feed it hope.

10. Be the Friend You Are to Others

You give the best advice to your friends. Now look in the mirror and offer the same kindness to yourself. Talk to that reflection with compassion. Tell them they’ll be okay. Remind them that being good, being soft, being real—is still rare, still needed.

Because the world doesn’t need another perfect mask. It needs you.

Conclusion:

Avoiding pressure doesn’t mean ignoring reality—it means navigating it wisely. It’s about knowing when to fight, when to rest, and when to simply be. If you feel like you’re lagging behind, maybe it’s because your story is meant to unfold slower, deeper, more beautifully than others.

So hold on. Celebrate your journey. And no matter how long it takes, keep walking. You’re doing better than you think.

How Unfiltered Adult Content Has Ruined a Generation

 

In a world obsessed with pleasure and performance, we've forgotten the basics of what it means to live with dignity, love with loyalty, and raise our children with a sense of purpose. What was once considered sacred — marriage, parenthood, respect — has been hollowed out by the unfiltered, unchecked spread of adult content. And it's killing the soul of our society from the inside out.

The Broken Idea of Marriage

Marriage was once a holy contract, a bond built on trust, patience, sacrifice, and divine values. But today, it’s reduced to flashy weddings, Instagrammable décor, and photoshoots in rented palaces. People spend lakhs just to impress others, yet invest nothing in building the emotional and spiritual foundation that a real marriage needs. When the spark fades — which it inevitably does if built on shallow grounds — they walk out. Divorce is easier than discussion. Love is confused with lust. And commitment has become a joke.

Parental Negligence: The Root of Quiet Chaos

In the race to earn more, climb higher, and live more “freely,” many parents have forgotten their most vital responsibility — to guide their children, especially when it comes to dealing with their emotions, identity, and budding sexuality. Kids today are handed smartphones before they’re taught about self-respect. They explore things they’re not ready for, alone, confused, and craving connection. When they search for answers, all they find is filth dressed as freedom.

Pornography becomes their first lesson in intimacy. And it teaches all the wrong things.

Boys Prioritized, But Not Raised

Boys, in many families, are still treated like kings. Every demand is fulfilled, every tantrum is entertained. But what’s the point of giving a boy everything if you don't teach him what it means to be a man — a real man, who respects women, understands restraint, and leads with responsibility?

Instead, they grow up enslaved to their desires. They see adult content that shows women in degrading positions, smiling as if they enjoy it. And they assume this is real. That this is what women want. That this is what love looks like. So when they marry a girl from a decent, respectful background, they demand the same. The girl resists. Fights follow. Divorce becomes inevitable. And no one knows who to blame.

Girls Exploited, Respect Erased

What pornography portrays is not reality — it’s a dark fantasy staged for profit. But the damage it causes is very real. It rewires the mind, kills empathy, and teaches men to take, not to give. To conquer, not to care. Women are not objects to be consumed. They are not toys to fulfill sick fantasies. But try telling that to a mind shaped by hours of shameless content.

And the saddest part? Many women are now expected to perform these acts — to smile through their humiliation — just to keep their partner satisfied.

Families Rotting From the Inside

When sex becomes a priority over parenting, families begin to crumble. Some parents, influenced by the same adult content they once warned their kids against, focus more on their own pleasure than their children's pain. They take pills to improve performance, but do nothing to improve communication at home. They chase hormones, not harmony. And their children grow up neglected, misunderstood, and broken.

The Good Ones Are Left Alone

In a world where vulgarity is glorified and purity is mocked, the good ones are often the loneliest. The ones who still believe in love before lust, marriage before mating, sacrifice before selfishness — they’re left behind. They don't fit in. They’re mocked for being too "soft," too "idealistic." But they’re not wrong. They’re just rare.

And it’s time we stop calling them outdated. They’re the ones who still carry the light, in a world gone blind.

Final Thoughts

It’s not about banning content or blaming individuals. It’s about rebuilding the values we've lost. Teaching kids that love isn’t what you see on screens. That sex isn’t shameful, but sacred. That marriage is not a performance, but a promise. And that the true purpose of pleasure is connection — not consumption.

Let’s wake up. Before we lose another generation to the fantasy that killed reality.

When Peer Pressure Creeps In: How to Stay Grounded in a Competitive World

 

In our quiet corners, we bloom. On our own terms, with our own pace, we often thrive — until we’re placed in a room full of people louder, faster, seemingly happier. That’s when peer pressure silently crawls in, not in the way it did back in school — urging us to smoke a cigarette or bunk a class — but in subtler, sharper ways.

Suddenly, our best feels like “not enough.”

The Environment Shift: When Your Scale Gets Overwritten

Let’s admit it — the environment matters. You could be doing amazing work in solitude, receiving validation from within, but then you step into a big organization or a group where applause only follows specific kinds of achievements, and you start doubting your worth. It’s not that you’ve stopped growing. It’s just that the yardstick changed, and no one warned you.

This mismatch between internal validation and external expectations can dull your motivation, even kill your output. You’re not alone in feeling that.

So, how do you fight the bad feelings when peers outshine you?

1. Name the Feeling. Don’t Shame the Feeling.
   It’s okay to feel envious. It’s okay to feel inadequate. These are human reactions, not moral failings. Naming your emotions takes away their power. Say it out loud: “I feel left behind. I feel invisible.” You’ll be surprised how much clarity that brings.

2. Zoom Out of the Highlight Reel.
   That colleague who just got promoted? You see the post, not the breakdowns. The friend who’s glowing on Instagram? You see the glow, not the grief. Everyone is curating. Be kind to yourself — and remember, no one shares their rock bottom during your scroll time.

3. Set Your Benchmarks.
   Define success on your own terms. Is it mental peace? Is it consistent effort? Is it small improvements over yesterday? That’s your scale. Stick to it.

How to maintain your output in environments where you don’t ‘fit in’

1. Find Micro-Pockets of Comfort.
   You don’t need to gel with the whole crowd. One genuine conversation, one kind colleague, one safe space — that’s enough to breathe.

2. Create Rituals That Anchor You.
   When everything outside feels alien, rituals bring you home. A cup of tea at a specific hour. A walk after lunch. A playlist you return to. These are your threads of familiarity.

3. Detach Output from Approval.
   Give your best not for applause, but because it reflects who you are. This mindset protects your creativity from getting crushed by competition.

When stress steals your happy hormones…

Let’s get real. When stress hits, our happy hormones (dopamine, serotonin, oxytocin, endorphins) take a nosedive. But we can fight back.

• Dopamine: Break big goals into tiny wins. Tick off checklists. Reward yourself.
• Serotonin: Soak up sunlight. Practice gratitude. Revisit proud moments.
• Oxytocin: Hug a friend. Talk to a pet. Text someone you love.
• Endorphins: Dance. Laugh. Move your body, even if it’s just for 10 minutes.

You don’t need a huge transformation — just small acts that tell your brain, we’re safe, we’re okay.

Health: The Silent Backbone

Mental and physical health are inseparable. Sleep enough. Eat mindfully. Move daily. I know — easier said than done. But every time you prioritize your health, you’re sending a message to yourself: I matter.

When comparison creeps in… and we want what others have

This is the hardest part. You see someone genuinely happy and you want that happiness too. It’s natural. But here’s the truth: their happiness isn’t your absence of it. You’re not in a zero-sum game.

If you’re not there yet — that’s okay. Maybe you’re growing roots while others are blooming. Both are necessary. Don’t pull yourself out of the soil just because someone else is in full blossom.

Final Word: You Are Enough (Even If the Room Doesn’t Say It)

Just because they don’t see your light doesn’t mean it’s not shining. Keep showing up. Keep doing the work. Keep listening to your pace. Peer pressure may whisper doubts, but your inner voice — if you listen closely — will always remind you:

You’re doing better than you think. And you’re not alone.

"Before You Love the Broken"

Before you fall for someone bruised,

Stop—breathe—don’t get confused.

Don’t whisper, “Do they need me?”

Ask them loud—“Do you want me, freely?”

It's easy, too easy, to love the scarred,

Their wounds are visible, their pain is hard.

They’re painted with stories, jagged and wild—

Far from the polished, the perfect, the mild.

Convenience bores, doesn't it now?

You crave the edge, the why and how.

Rough souls sparkle with messy grace,

They charm you with every unhealed place.

They laugh like thunder, cry like rain,

Their chaos sings to your hidden pain.

And maybe—just maybe—you like to fix,

But hearts aren’t clocks, and love’s not tricks.

If you give, give clean—don’t trade for love,

Don’t bargain care for stars above.

Gratitude? Perhaps. Love? Not owed.

Don’t plant seeds on a broken road.

Because if you fall into love’s dark spiral,

Know—it won’t always feel like a revival.

The broken don't always want to be healed,

Some keep their hearts behind a shield.

They might not commit—not out of pride,

But because they’ve watched too much die inside.

Some still hope, yes, some still try,

They sip your love like a lullaby.

But if they stop, if they turn away—

(And many do, most drift or stray),

They won’t set you free, they’ll hold on tight,

Not out of love, but out of fright.

Because healing feels warm, and you feel safe—

But they won't become your sacred place.

You’ll pour out light, they’ll drink you dry,

And leave you asking “why did I try?”

So pause before you dive too deep—

This isn’t a promise your soul should keep.

Not all broken want to mend,

Some just need a softer end.

Love with open eyes, not just heart,

And know when to stop… before you start.

You’re not a savior, not a cure—

You deserve a love that's safe and pure.

So love, but wisely. 

Give, but strong.

And never stay where you don’t belong.