Need I say more?

`Ayesha`

A Designer. Talks more than it’s needed. Thinks more than a normal person should. Dreamer - and oh! the wishlist is endless.
`Ayesha` has written 75 posts for ayeshahusain

Realizations…

Sabeen and the unheard heroes of Pakistan.

Mariya Husain

I was once asked whether the death of a hero makes one a hero or is it possible for people to become heroes within their lifetimes.

I could pick one or agree to both. My stance was muddled, but I was sure that it was way too easy to become a hero in today’s times; social media, youtube, blogs- the magnanimity of technology and the ideas of “sharing thoughts” enrich life today. These screens make us all HEROES.

I was reminded of Malala Yousafzai, the youngest Nobel Laureate. I thought of Nelson Mandela. Of Mother Theresa. My view was simple; now a days, thoughts travel fast than ever; and when I say- thoughts, words, ideas; the very essence of these are preserved such that their actions speak the same. These thoughts, words and ideas are the same as their work, intent and success; I believe no words can inspire other…

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We plan, it fails. He decides; it happens.

Image

25th December 2012:

So many things in life happen, this december it happened. It’s more than a month and I work for an advertising agency with people I can learn from.

Hello, child. You’re not forgotten.

It’s just that I did not have the right words to express. Wait, let me get done with this presentation, I’ll get back to you by tonight.

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Favourite poem from school!

`Faster than fairies, faster than witches,
Bridges and houses, hedges and ditches;
And charging along like troops in a battle
All through the meadows the horses and cattle:
All of the sights of the hill and the plain
Fly as thick as driving rain;
And ever again, in the wink of an eye,
Painted stations whistle by.
Here is a child who clambers and scrambles,
All by himself and gathering brambles;
Here is a tramp who stands and gazes;
And here is the green for stringing the daisies!
Here is a cart runaway in the road
Lumping along with man and load;
And here is a mill, and there is a river:
Each a glimpse and gone forever!`

Robert Louis Stevenson

How I loved my childhood.

 

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