Woman in Love

Hey reader, enjoy my new poem.

A Woman in Love

I am a woman in love—who can be madder than me?
Once, I stood proud, wrapped in my own dignity,
But love has stripped me thread by thread,
Leaving nothing but his name in my head.

His joy is the only fire I need,
A flicker in his eyes, and I am freed.
Yet when his words cut, I swallow my cries,
Fearing the world may tear us apart with their spies.

I was once devoted, my faith unshaken,
But love has made me God's forsaken.
His punishments come like whispers at night,
Reminding me of the wrongs I made right.

I trampled hearts, left longing behind,
For the taste of his love, cruel yet kind.
Once, I dreamt of golden halls,
Now, I sleep where his shadow falls.

I have endured daggers, sharper than steel,
Yet I silence my pain, refuse to heal.
Because I am a woman in love.

I hate myself for the chains I wear,
I love myself for daring to care.
I am a woman in love—who can be madder than me?

Durr-e-Shehwar: Drama Review

 

Pakistani dramas have a unique way of capturing raw emotions, and Durr-e-Shehwar stands as a testament to that. Written by Umera Ahmed, this drama isn't just a love story; it's a deep, reflective look at the struggles within marriage, the sacrifices women make, and the unspoken burdens men carry. Even in 2025, the themes it explores remain painfully relevant, making it a must-watch for anyone trying to understand the complexities of relationships.

A Story That Transcends Time

Durr-e-Shehwar follows two parallel timelines—the early years of Shehwar’s marriage with Mansoor and the present, where their daughter Shandana is facing a crisis in her own marriage. The story highlights the generational gap in marital expectations but also reveals that, at its core, the institution of marriage has remained the same—full of sacrifices, compromises, and silent endurance.

The Myth of the Perfect Husband

Since childhood, many women are conditioned to believe in the fairy-tale notion of a husband who will always be their protector, who will fight for them, and who will carry their pain as his own. But Durr-e-Shehwar challenges this expectation through Mansoor’s character. He is not a villain—he is simply weak, a man who succumbs to family pressure and fails to stand up for his wife.

This portrayal is crucial because it reminds us that not every man can be a hero. Some lack the courage to fight for their wives; some are too absorbed in their struggles to offer emotional support. And some, like Mansoor, are just victims of societal oppression themselves. But should that mean the woman must always bear the weight of the relationship alone?

Shehwar's Strength and Unspoken Pain

Despite Mansoor’s failures, Shehwar remains steadfast. She does not abandon her marriage, but she also does not forget. Her love is immense, but her wounds never fully heal. This is where the drama delivers a powerful message—love can forgive, but it does not erase the past. Husbands who take their wives for granted should remember this: when the warmth fades from a relationship, regrets are all that remain.

Mansoor realizes this too late. He is unable to look his daughter in the eye because he knows he has failed as a husband. He silently hopes Shehwar will conceal his shortcomings, but when she doesn't, his shame becomes unbearable.

So, here’s a message for men—if you don’t want to spend your old age with nothing but regrets, man up. Support your wife, appreciate her sacrifices, and never assume that her patience will last forever.

Sacrifice vs. Self-Worth: A Feminist Perspective

One of the most debated aspects of the drama is Shehwar’s endurance. Modern feminists might argue that women should not have to sacrifice their happiness for a man or a marriage. And honestly, they have a point. Blind patience should not be mistaken for virtue. If a relationship is one-sided, where only the woman is expected to endure, it becomes oppression rather than love.

However, Durr-e-Shehwar also teaches an important lesson: marriage is about two people working together. If one refuses to bend, the other must—if they truly wish to save the relationship. That doesn’t mean self-sacrifice; it means knowing when to step back, lower expectations, and focus on self-growth instead of waiting for the other person to change.

What Can We Learn from Dur e Shehwar?

• For Men: If you have a wife like Shehwar, don’t take her patience for granted. Love her, respect her, and most importantly, stand by her when she needs you.
• For Women: Patience is a virtue, but it should not come at the cost of your dignity. Know when to fight for your relationship and when to let go.
• For Couples: Marriage requires effort from both sides. If one partner refuses to compromise, the other will eventually stop trying.

Final Thoughts

Durr-e-Shehwar is more than just a drama—it’s a mirror reflecting the harsh realities of marriage. It shows the quiet strength of women, the flaws of men, and the delicate balance required to sustain a relationship.

In 2025, the world has changed, but the essence of relationships remains the same. Whether you agree with Shehwar’s endurance or believe she should have walked away, one thing is certain: her story forces us to reflect on our own expectations, compromises, and the true meaning of love.

Stop Judging, Start Acting: A Call to Genuine Faith and Compassion

 

There are some people in this world who seem truly blessed. They have parents who support them, resources to meet their needs, and the freedom to make choices without fear of survival. For these people, life is not a constant battle to stay afloat. They have the privilege of deciding what is right and wrong, halal and haram, in their own time. And yet, for some, this blessing turns into something else: a tool for judgment and a sense of superiority.

Let me ask you something: have you ever stopped to think about the lives of those less fortunate? Not in a superficial, pitying way, but deeply and sincerely? Because, let’s be honest, it’s easy to preach when you’re not the one struggling. It’s easy to tell someone to follow religious guidelines when you’re not the one with an empty stomach.

The Burden of Hypocrisy

Let’s talk about a common scenario: someone tells a poor, hungry person to only eat what’s halal. Sounds good, right? Halal food is important in Islam. But what if that poor person doesn’t even have the luxury to choose? What if they’re faced with the harsh reality of survival? You, sitting comfortably with your meal, have the privilege of making that choice. They don’t.

And yet, it’s not uncommon to see people—well-fed, financially stable, living in comfort—lecturing others on their supposed shortcomings. Some of these same people go on pilgrimages, donate publicly, and then think of themselves as superior Muslims. Is this piety, or is it pride in disguise?

The True Lives of Religious Leaders

Here’s another question for you: have you ever studied the lives of truly pious religious leaders? Most of them lived humbly, avoided worldly pleasures, and spent their lives serving others without a shred of arrogance. Their greatness wasn’t in what they had, but in what they gave up. They didn’t judge others—they helped them. They weren’t interested in superficial superiority—they were focused on humility and self-improvement.

Feed the Poor, Literally and Metaphorically

Instead of sitting in judgment of others, let’s take action. If you have resources, why not use them to help those who don’t? If someone is suffering, offer support, not unsolicited advice. If someone is struggling with their faith, guide them through kindness and understanding, not through criticism wrapped in fake concern.

Think of the poor not just in terms of financial poverty, but in every sense: the poor in spirit, the poor in opportunity, the poor in guidance. If you’re blessed with the resources, knowledge, and privilege to help, then do so. Share what you have. Give without expecting anything in return.

Are You Passing or Failing Your Test?

Here’s something many of us forget: your blessings aren’t necessarily a reward for your good deeds. They might just be your test on this earth. And the truth is, many of us are failing it. Instead of gratitude, we show arrogance. Instead of compassion, we show judgment.

If you’re so eager to advise others, then first take a hard look at your own life. Have you sacrificed for others? Have you cut down your luxuries to lift someone else up? Have you fed the poor, not just with food, but with dignity, love, and understanding?

Fix Yourself First

This isn’t a call to silence—it’s a call to action. Before you lecture someone about halal and haram, about right and wrong, ask yourself: have I earned the right to advise? Am I truly acting out of concern, or is it pride in disguise?

We need fewer lectures and more examples. Fewer criticisms and more compassion. Stop judging. Start acting. Fix your own faith first, and then let your actions speak louder than your words.

A Final Thought

If you’re blessed, use it as an opportunity to make the world better—not to inflate your own sense of superiority. True faith lies in humility, not judgment. True greatness lies in service, not in the illusion of piety.

So, the next time you’re tempted to advise someone, pause. Ask yourself: am I helping, or am I just feeding my pride? If you truly care, then act. Because in the end, it’s not the lectures you give, but the lives you touch, that will define your legacy.

Lost in Love, Found in You

Hey dear reader! Go through my poem, try to understand the emotional depths I have captured and give me your valuable opinion. Cheers 🥂 

I have fallen into the depths of love,

A love so pure, sent from above.

Swollen eyes that hold the skies,

Long lashes guarding truths and lies.

Your nose, a curve of perfect grace,

Your intellect—a boundless space.

Yet life has dealt its cruelest hand,

Deceived by those you call your band.

You stand so tall, though burdened so,

Carrying weights the world won't know.

And here I stand, a shadow small,

Terrified I’ll never match it all.

But how can I leave this love of mine,

This rare bloom in life’s hard line?

The first I’ve known, so raw, so true,

To leave you now—I’d split in two.

Yet I feel the pressure in my chest,

To build a life, to be my best.

Not for the world, but just for you,

To ease your load, to see us through.

But my past, it lingers, heavy and stark,

A path of failures, lost in the dark.

I’ve been broken, shattered, and bruised,

My direction unclear, my spirit confused.

Still, I try to rise, though fears persist,

For every failure tightens its fist.

I’m not extraordinary, not like you,

Just a woman trying to make it through.

Yet even in this storm, I know,

Your love is the flame that makes me glow.

I may be lost, but I won't lose you,

For you are my anchor, my guiding hue.

So I’ll fight the fears, the doubts, the pain,

To build a life where love will reign.

And though I stumble, I vow to prove,

That I am worthy of this love we move.

Stay with me, my heart’s first flame,

Together we’ll rise, despite the shame.

For love like this, rare and true,

Is worth the world—and all I’ll do.

Dilemma

Hey reader! Enjoy the poem. Feel the power of words and tell me what you think of it.

What's the end of it?

Years of hardwork melting into nothing?

Meaning nothing?

You've been so unfair to me,

Leaving me like this....

You have declared that You will question me,

Who will question You?

With all Your unjust ways,

In our troubles, You don't participate.

You call it mercy?

What does mercy mean in Your dictionary?

Why haven't You specified the terms and conditions,

It's heavy on my soul,

The effort to come close to You.

How could You abandon me like this?

What about the hopes I had ?

So You just left me in pieces.

No one will question You,

Is this why You don't interfere?

You have created the project earth,

How come You don't bother.

You have left all matters to the end.

So the responsibility of my action's on me,

I'll do whatever seems fitting then.

How can I alone follow Your lead

When the whole world's upside down.

You think, I alone can fix this?

Have I got such blood in my veins?

Am I healthy?

Can I walk miles alone without fainting?

Can I run without panting?

Are my breaths easy and even?

I inhale, exhale, with no difficulty?

If I can't, 

What makes You think 

I can change it all alone.

If I can't, who else will?

 

Cycles of Grief

Life has a way of testing us, sometimes in cycles, sometimes in storms that seem to have no end. For years, I have faced these patterns—moments of despair followed by brief glimpses of hope. But this time, the storm lingers, and the darkness feels unyielding. Despite my best efforts to heal, I find myself trapped in a web of relentless struggles.

In this poem, I’ve poured out the raw emotions of living through this unending cycle—grief, exhaustion, and a faint ember of defiance. It’s a reflection of my journey, my pain, and the fragile hope that persists even when faith falters.

Here’s "Cycles of Grief"—a piece from my heart, for anyone who has ever felt trapped in the cycles of suffering.

Alone again, in this house of shadows,

Five years stretch like a river of sorrow.

I mapped the patterns of my despair,

Each cycle a storm, the air too heavy to bear.

Two years of pain, then a flicker of grace,

An unseen force pulling me from the abyss.

But now the wheel has halted its spin—

No light, no peace, only battles within.

I am prey to unseen pests, relentless, sly,

Feasting on my body, while my soul runs dry.

I’ve tried every cure, every desperate art,

Yet they linger, burrowed deep in my heart.

I thought I knew how this would unfold—

Suffering, then reprieve, as the universe foretold.

But the sky holds no promise, the stars stay still,

Every prayer I whisper bends to another's will.

My body bends too, frail as a leaf,

While my soul aches beneath this endless grief.

The faith I clung to now splinters, weak,

The words of hope, too bitter to speak.

And yet, there’s a rebellion within—

A defiance that flickers, refusing to dim.

If the universe watches, let it see:

This battered soul will not bow easily.

For even in decay, life clings fast,

And a broken spirit can outlast.

Perhaps, in this abyss, I plant a seed—

A quiet prayer that the universe will heed.

Mask Off

Tell me this—

What happens to a soul like mine?

Where “real” isn’t a performance,

And emotions don’t wait for an invitation to show up?

I laugh, I frown, I burn bright with rage,

No filter, no edit—just me.

But the world? Oh, they love a good disguise.

They line up in masks—

“Topper,” “Professor,” “Sweetheart,” “Success”—

And they want me to pick one too.

Wear a smile, they say,

And make it believable.

(But my face doesn’t do pretend.)

Because I’m living in a world

That loves the fake—it’s easier to digest.

My anger? Too bitter.

My truths? Too sharp.

My fight for justice?

“Relax,” they tell me, “why can’t you just chill?”

So I try.

I try being soft.

Fake sweet.

Soft as syrup, dripping compliments I don’t mean.

And guess what?

Suddenly, they’re listening.

Suddenly, I’m “nice.”

Suddenly, I’m invited to the party—

A puppet in their masked ball.

But when I rip it off?

When I say, “Enough!”

When I scream for the innocent,

For the truth, for the ones who suffer?

Crickets.

Empty chairs.

Eyes that look through me.

And here’s the twist—

It’s lonely being real.

It’s heavy being the one who refuses to pretend.

But you know what’s heavier?

Living a lie.

So let them talk. Let them hide.

Let their masks give them fragile comfort.

Because the world needs someone like me,

Someone like you—

To keep showing up, raw and unfiltered.

One day, they’ll see.

When their masks crumble,

When their pretenses tire,

They’ll wish they had the courage to be—

What I already am.

So I ask you:

If the world loves its masks,

Will you still take yours off?