March 20, 2012
I am soooo happppy !!! For two reasons, first , i am 12 years old now and second, i got such a beautiful notebook as a gift from my Besttt frienddd on my birthday! It's so special. I had always thought of owning something so beautiful. It is so rich-looking and has leather on its cover , a tag for me to write my name on and a nice little lock with a key! Now how awesome is that. I am so happy i feel i will never feel sad again. And even if i do, i won't be sad much because i will have this beautiful little book to write in. I will write tomorrow though. There is so much cleaning to do and i have to help mother because she has a headache. We should always help mothers when they are sick.
March 21, 2012
My full name is Habiba Baloch, i belong to Balochistan but live in Karachi, the biggest city of Pakistan. My dwelling is in a humble location , very poor infact. It's the place called 'Lyari' . The people here are so poor, so poor, they wear tattered clothes and broken sandals, kids play naked and they have runny noses. I am a kid too, but i don't have a runny nose EVER! My mother who is otherwise a very kind woman slaps me hard if i look displeasing to her eye. I have to keep myself clean always. Not that my clothes are all that pretty! I do own some nice frocks (which were given to my mother by the 'baji' at her job) But even they are old and worn out from overuse. This is a heartrending situation for a girl like me who wants to become a queen someday and glide across a hallway in a beautiful silk gown . But my grandmother tells me that even though i don't possess all these beautiful things i want to own, i am a very nice girl , her 'shehzadi' , and that i am more beautiful than any princess in this world. I don't believe her though, but i don't say that i don't believe her because it will be like accusing someone so respectable of lying and father will slap me hard for it. no, no i should not say mean things like that and i want to believe her. I want to be prettier than all the princesses in this world and i am not very hopeless in this regard. Sometimes when everyone is sleeping, i steal the liberty of the moment to go check myself in the old mirror, the only one, in the house that hangs by the wall beside the bed side of my mother. I take care to place my steps very gently so that noone gets to know what i am doing. If grandmother wakes up she will tell me off for being so immodest ( on account of seeking pleasure in my looks) and i don't want to upset her. I take furtive glances at myself in the old mirror and they are enough to make me happy. I have an olive-tan complexion but very nice eyes. They are so large and the other day the shopkeeper whom i go to for sweets told me that i had the best smile and the best eyes in the world! Now with grandmother saying that i am the prettiest girl and the shopkeeper telling me the same things, its hard to feel less than pleased with myself. I do thank God though. I don't want to appear conceited and immodest like grandmother fears i would feel.
It's wrong to feel conceited or proud, grandmother tells me that God puts you in hell if you are immodest to his people. I am very scared of ordinary fire, to demonstrate the terror of hell she tells me that its many, many times hotter than this fire we have on Earth. I find it kind of funny. How can a fire be hotter? But when i asked grandmother this, she told me that i should stay shut because God knows best and i should not raise meaningless questions lest God should take offence.
Its like, everything i say connects to the wrath of God. I am so scared of God, so much. Of lately, i don't even enjoy my private friendly conversation with God because i try to think so hard for the right words and the way to say them that i get tired. And once i am tired, i drift to sleep like honeybees drift to a flower. I do remember to say my prayers though, those are in Arabic and those are easy to say because i know them all by heart.
Its the time i am writing about. I mean its night time and it is so appropriate that i should be talking about my night routine before mothers come to switch off my lights and make me say my prayers. Here, i think she has come. I should pretend to be lying down and concentrating on prayers, though i don't want to go mind you. I just want to keep on writing..and never stopping . Oh God , Here she comes, Here she comes!
I am soooo happppy !!! For two reasons, first , i am 12 years old now and second, i got such a beautiful notebook as a gift from my Besttt frienddd on my birthday! It's so special. I had always thought of owning something so beautiful. It is so rich-looking and has leather on its cover , a tag for me to write my name on and a nice little lock with a key! Now how awesome is that. I am so happy i feel i will never feel sad again. And even if i do, i won't be sad much because i will have this beautiful little book to write in. I will write tomorrow though. There is so much cleaning to do and i have to help mother because she has a headache. We should always help mothers when they are sick.
March 21, 2012
My full name is Habiba Baloch, i belong to Balochistan but live in Karachi, the biggest city of Pakistan. My dwelling is in a humble location , very poor infact. It's the place called 'Lyari' . The people here are so poor, so poor, they wear tattered clothes and broken sandals, kids play naked and they have runny noses. I am a kid too, but i don't have a runny nose EVER! My mother who is otherwise a very kind woman slaps me hard if i look displeasing to her eye. I have to keep myself clean always. Not that my clothes are all that pretty! I do own some nice frocks (which were given to my mother by the 'baji' at her job) But even they are old and worn out from overuse. This is a heartrending situation for a girl like me who wants to become a queen someday and glide across a hallway in a beautiful silk gown . But my grandmother tells me that even though i don't possess all these beautiful things i want to own, i am a very nice girl , her 'shehzadi' , and that i am more beautiful than any princess in this world. I don't believe her though, but i don't say that i don't believe her because it will be like accusing someone so respectable of lying and father will slap me hard for it. no, no i should not say mean things like that and i want to believe her. I want to be prettier than all the princesses in this world and i am not very hopeless in this regard. Sometimes when everyone is sleeping, i steal the liberty of the moment to go check myself in the old mirror, the only one, in the house that hangs by the wall beside the bed side of my mother. I take care to place my steps very gently so that noone gets to know what i am doing. If grandmother wakes up she will tell me off for being so immodest ( on account of seeking pleasure in my looks) and i don't want to upset her. I take furtive glances at myself in the old mirror and they are enough to make me happy. I have an olive-tan complexion but very nice eyes. They are so large and the other day the shopkeeper whom i go to for sweets told me that i had the best smile and the best eyes in the world! Now with grandmother saying that i am the prettiest girl and the shopkeeper telling me the same things, its hard to feel less than pleased with myself. I do thank God though. I don't want to appear conceited and immodest like grandmother fears i would feel.
It's wrong to feel conceited or proud, grandmother tells me that God puts you in hell if you are immodest to his people. I am very scared of ordinary fire, to demonstrate the terror of hell she tells me that its many, many times hotter than this fire we have on Earth. I find it kind of funny. How can a fire be hotter? But when i asked grandmother this, she told me that i should stay shut because God knows best and i should not raise meaningless questions lest God should take offence.
Its like, everything i say connects to the wrath of God. I am so scared of God, so much. Of lately, i don't even enjoy my private friendly conversation with God because i try to think so hard for the right words and the way to say them that i get tired. And once i am tired, i drift to sleep like honeybees drift to a flower. I do remember to say my prayers though, those are in Arabic and those are easy to say because i know them all by heart.
Its the time i am writing about. I mean its night time and it is so appropriate that i should be talking about my night routine before mothers come to switch off my lights and make me say my prayers. Here, i think she has come. I should pretend to be lying down and concentrating on prayers, though i don't want to go mind you. I just want to keep on writing..and never stopping . Oh God , Here she comes, Here she comes!
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