I am everything you know you'll never be

I am everything you
know you'll never be











Sometimes it takes picking up all the pieces to realize how badly you’ve fallen apart, and how they’ll never, ever fit together the same way again. Sometimes you realize that, even if you don’t want the pieces to ever fit that way again, you really miss the feeling of being whole anyway.

What a Day!!!

Huff, what a day it has been so far today.
Stayed up all night, last night, to complete my AFS(Analysis of Financial Statements) report. Completed it at 4:00 in the morning, took the printouts, stayed up till 6:15, and then finally went to bed. Aaaahh, what a feeling it was to finally enjoy the luxury of sleep, but ovcourse, KESC has always got other plans. POWER FAILURE. Oh my God, I didn't have my shirt ironed, didn't have the soft copy of my Thesis report burned on the CD.
PANIC TIME!!!
How could I have been so stupid and not burned the soft copy. To be honest, I didn't even have the hard copy with me either, it was at the photo copiers at the University campus. I had given it for hard binding.
Reached the university at 11:00 am. Jumping around happily, greeting everyone, happy cuz it was my last day at the university. But ofcourse, fate had other plans. Found out about the CD thingy, got my Thesis from the copiers, and had that stoopid AFS report spiral bound.
Went to the faculty cubicles later, and slammed the AFS report on my teachers table, hehe, I wish I could do that. Just gave the report to the teacher politely and left to get my Thesis signed by all the concerned people. Went to the program coordinater and told her about the CD. And to my disbelief, she politely gave me the extension for another day, but i am to give it to her tomorrow, before 11:00am. the same time I got to the university today.
Hung out with friends, said goodbyes to all the teachers who have been my course instructors throughout my BBA program. Went inside the cafe, and it was time to.......
PARTYYYY....
Yaayy!!! Freedom atlast, well, still got another day left. ]
Anywayz, went to Millenium mall for some window shopping at 1:30pm. Did some window shopping, got me a new shirt, gosh, I'm missing Giordano so much. Had lunch at Indulge with a friend.
Finally got back home at 3:00pm. dead tired, and jumped into bed hastily. And now, here I am, writing about my day so far. It was a disasterrific day for me. I hope tomorrow's gunna be better, cuz a very very very dear friend is leaving the country for Umrah, and its gunna be very lonely without that friend.
So, if you ever had such a day, lemme know.

Cheers folks!!

that's a nice smile there.....

:-)

Graduation Anecdotes

The excitement of graduation and the world of fulltime employment with benefits, and a fantastic social life is immense during the final academic semester.
Many do not have a clue about what they are going to do with their first year away from the academic world, and those that do, have either enrolled on internships or work placements or travel. And the unlucky few wind up as a statistic in the queue for job seekers allowance.
Now I have found myself in this position. I was indeed mortified at the prospect of being there for the rest of my life.
Hunting for employment is a difficult task and some will feel down trodden at the prospect of not getting what they want.
Anyhow, as most people would do other stuff or look for employment, I am going to look for ways to make the most out of the summers and the time between now and my Graduation. The best thing that I can think of, is doing my MBA immediately. And after my MBA, ofcourse, I will once again find myself in the same situation, I am right now.

Today!

I should now sum up my day, today.

Today was an awful day. Last night there was a huge power failure and i couldn't sleep all night long. Missed all the matches yesterday, n had to watch them today. I was supposed to finish my term report as well, n i haven't been able to even start the report. I feel so exhausted, didn't sleep much during my final exams, that ended yesterday. Oh, but there is a good news, with my last paper, I can say, Ive graduated.
Ovcourse, only a single term report remains between me and my freedom.
Wish me luck y'all, cuz I need all the luck I can get to get a good result.

Cheers folks...
:)
Keep smiling!!

Golly, so many poems!!!

Well, ive posted these 3 poems cuz these are sum ov my favorite poems. 2 of them were written by John Keats n 1 by William Wordsworth. 2 of the greatest poets we know of today.
In my life i have never made any one my idol or done sumthing ov the sort, but i have never closed my doors to inspiration, n these 2 poets have inspired me a great deal.
So please, this was just a small tribute to them.

HER EYES ARE WILD

HER eyes are wild, her head is bare,
The sun has burnt her coal-black hair;
Her eyebrows have a rusty stain,
And she came far from over the main.
She has a baby on her arm,
Or else she were alone:
And underneath the hay-stack warm,
And on the greenwood stone,
She talked and sung the woods among,
And it was in the English tongue.
"Sweet babe! they say that I am mad,
But nay, my heart is far too glad;
And I am happy when I sing
Full many a sad and doleful thing:
Then, lovely baby, do not fear!
I pray thee have no fear of me;
But safe as in a cradle, here,
My lovely baby! thou shalt be:
To thee I know too much I owe;
I cannot work thee any woe.
"A fire was once within my brain;
And in my head a dull, dull pain;
And fiendish faces, one, two, three,
Hung at my breast, and pulled at me;
But then there came a sight of joy;
It came at once to do me good;
I waked, and saw my little boy,
My little boy of flesh and blood;
Oh joy for me that sight to see!
For he was here, and only he.
"Suck, little babe, oh suck again!
It cools my blood; it cools my brain;
Thy lips I feel them, baby! they
Draw from my heart the pain away.
Oh! press me with thy little hand;
It loosens something at my chest;
About that tight and deadly band
I feel thy little fingers prest.
The breeze I see is in the tree:
It comes to cool my babe and me.
"Oh! love me, love me, little boy!
Thou art thy mother's only joy;
And do not dread the waves below,
When o'er the sea-rock's edge we go;
The high crag cannot work me harm,
Nor leaping torrents when they howl;
The babe I carry on my arm,
He saves for me my precious soul;
Then happy lie; for blest am I;
Without me my sweet babe would die.
"Then do not fear, my boy! for thee
Bold as a lion will I be;
And I will always be thy guide,
Through hollow snows and rivers wide.
I'll build an Indian bower;
I know The leaves that make the softest bed:
And, if from me thou wilt not go,
But still be true till I am dead,
My pretty thing! then thou shalt sing
As merry as the birds in spring.
"Thy father cares not for my breast,
'Tis thine, sweet baby, there to rest;
'Tis all thine own!--and, if its hue
Be changed, that was so fair to view,
'Tis fair enough for thee, my dove!
My beauty, little child, is flown,
But thou wilt live with me in love,
And what if my poor cheek be brown?
'Tis well for me, thou canst not see
How pale and wan it else would be.
"Dread not their taunts, my little Life;
I am thy father's wedded wife;
And underneath the spreading tree
We two will live in honesty.
If his sweet boy he could forsake,
With me he never would have stayed:
From him no harm my babe can take;
But he, poor man! is wretched made;
And every day we two will pray
For him that's gone and far away.
"I'll teach my boy the sweetest things:
I'll teach him how the owlet sings.
My little babe! thy lips are still,
And thou hast almost sucked thy fill. --
Where art thou gone, my own dear child?
What wicked looks are those I see?
Alas! alas! that look so wild,
It never, never came from me:
If thou art mad, my pretty lad,
Then I must be for ever sad.
"Oh! smile on me, my little lamb!
For I thy own dear mother am:
My love for thee has well been tried:
I've sought thy father far and wide.
I know the poisons of the shade;
I know the earth-nuts fit for food:
Then, pretty dear, be not afraid:
We'll find thy father in the wood.
Now laugh and be gay, to the woods away!
And there, my babe, we'll live for aye."

Ode to Autumn

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the mossed cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o'er-brimmed their clammy cell.
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reaped furrow sound asleep,
Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers;
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cider-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings, hours by hours.
Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,--
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir, the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft,
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.

Ode to a Nightingale!

MY heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,
Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains
One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk:
’Tis not through envy of thy happy lot,
But being too happy in thine happiness,—
That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees,
In some melodious plot
Of beechen green, and shadows numberless,
Singest of summer in full-throated ease.
O, for a draught of vintage! that hath been
Cool’d a long age in the deep-delved earth,
Tasting of Flora and the country green,
Dance, and Provencal song, and sunburnt mirth!
O for a beaker full of the warm South,
Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene,
With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,
And purple-stained mouth;
That I might drink, and leave the world unseen,
And with thee fade away into the forest dim:
Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget
What thou among the leaves hast never known,
The weariness, the fever, and the fret
Here, where men sit and hear each other groan;
Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs,
Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies;
Where but to think is to be full of sorrow
And leaden-eyed despairs,
Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes,
Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow.
Away! away! for I will fly to thee,
Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards,
But on the viewless wings of Poesy,
Though the dull brain perplexes and retards:
Already with thee! tender is the night,
And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne,
Cluster’d around by all her starry Fays;
But here there is no light,
Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown
Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.
I cannot see what flowers are at my feet,
Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs,
But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet
Wherewith the seasonable month endows
The grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild;
White hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine;
Fast fading violets cover’d up in leaves;
And mid-May’s eldest child,
The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine,
The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.
Darkling I listen; and, for many a time
I have been half in love with easeful Death,
Call’d him soft names in many a mused rhyme,
To take into the air my quiet breath;
Now more than ever seems it rich to die,
To cease upon the midnight with no pain,
While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad
In such an ecstasy!
Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain—
To thy high requiem become a sod.
Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird!
No hungry generations tread thee down;
The voice I hear this passing night was heard
In ancient days by emperor and clown:
Perhaps the self-same song that found a path
Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home,
She stood in tears amid the alien corn;
The same that oft-times hath
Charm’d magic casements, opening on the foam
Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.
Forlorn! the very word is like a bell
To toil me back from thee to my sole self!
Adieu! the fancy cannot cheat so well
As she is fam’d to do, deceiving elf.
Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades
Past the near meadows, over the still stream,
Up the hill-side; and now ’tis buried deep
In the next valley-glades:
Was it a vision, or a waking dream?
Fled is that music:—Do I wake or sleep?

No Welcome Wagons Just Yet!!

Hello bloggers...

Well, I'm new to this blogging stuff, really liked it alot, as a friend had sorta introduced me to it. I have been planning to create my very own blog for a very long time now, but never got the time to do it. But now, my exams are over, (free at last), not only the exams, but now I have also graduated from Bahria University, yaaaay, completed my BBA (hons.) atlast, and about time.
Well, please keep the feedbacks rolling in, and I am open to suggestions, in fact, I would really appreciate them.

Cheers folks!!!