A retired pandemic blog. Find me on substack at The Fajr Collective. Still writing about Loving Him, reconciling myself and healing.

I have known loneliness in time of chaos, the silence choking me till I’m blue in the face. During those times, seconds tends to blend into each other. My soul is floating and I’m not here. Not really.

I have also known joy that feels stolen, that doesn’t feel like…

Sometimes we forget that our demons are probably as scared of us as we are of them.

Content Warning: Depression, Bullying, Self-Hate, Suicide.

Photo: pen sitting on top of a closed black journal. Photo by Thomas Martinsen on Unsplash

I. I was fresh out of secondary school when I first said “I hate myself.” It was a coping mechanism. An exorcism of sorts. I hoped that if I said it enough times, not hating myself would get easier.

I didn’t realize this intense…

“And in the end, we were all just humans, drunk on the idea that love, only love, could heal our brokenness.” — Christopher Poindexter

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

As a child, I craved for love the way crack babies wail for cheap cocaine. Like those babies, I didn't understand what I wanted but I knew I needed it. Here I am, twenty-three years old and lost in myself most days. I still crave love and hate myself for…

To sense. Intuition. Words are not enough, but it’s in your bones.

Photo by Zoe Holling on Unsplash

Imagine this.

Sand between your feet. You bend to pick a handful of it. The scent of salt and warm air, the humidity around your face like a warm sauna. You open your eyes and there are miles and miles of ocean as far as the sun rises and sets…

I looked beyond him and raced towards the door. I almost couldn’t believe it. Past the hurt and pain, something new yet timeless was waiting for me.

Photo by Jakub Kriz on Unsplash

Yesterday, my best friend asked me “Are you resentful of the process that has taken you so long to get you here ?”. She was talking about how for the first time in over three months I had opened my mouth to say “I’m happy”. Before Corona, my world had…

We ran out of milk and Corona will not allow us to be great (or allow us to afford milk). What we made was pure, accidental genius.

Coconut Milk Crêpes

We don’t use measurements in this house so gauge till your dead grandmother whispers “Enough My Child!”

Fresh Coconut Milk, blended & sieved

2 eggs

Sugar & Cinnamon


A pinch of salt

It’s some time past 10 and I ate two hours ago. However, I’m visibly angry. And hungry. Mostly hungry though. I get ravenous due to my meds. It doesn’t help that I torture myself…

I don’t know what my therapist would make of this, but I’ll tell you a story.

I’m seven years old and my little sister Noor, is a baby. I love her so much, so much that I carry her anytime and everywhere, as possible as my small hands will allow. I’m not very good with kids and this is evidenced from a young age but it…

Words will never be enough to tell the world what your pain is. They don’t teach you how to heal yourself from this kind of trauma.

My heart does this funny thing when I read stories of people talking about their relationships with their father. My heart falls into a pit, and mentally I’m trying to fish my heart from this pit and place it back beside my lungs. It always evades me. …

I’m happy. Where I’m just happy. I just want to be happy

Yesterday I watched a video of a woman who quit school to pursue her happiness. She moved to a small town during a bitter winter, and as you can imagine things were hard. But she knew what she wanted. Slowly, she got on her two feet and built a life…


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