At the tips of your fingers.

No laptop,it fell and cracked its side. And now it most likely has a hardware problem. So mobile app for now.

I don't seem to remember dates anymore. Someone can remind me 4 times that today is the 28th and I'll still forget. What sort of carelessness is this.
At 23, I saw something which other people noticed earlier, either because they were taught it or because they're wiser than me. We as humans see what we want to see. And only rarely do we have the courage to realise AND act on it (forget diamonds,denial is a girl's best friend)  People are shit and you can laugh it off or actually start to think. Acha. So you're like THIS. *cut invisible strings* and then go forward with your existence,not looking back. There isn't time to look back yaar. Life's too short,especially in Pakistan.
Med schooool and fourth year to be precise. I feel older now,and its a new feeling outside of my home. How lucky am I not to feel my age because I barely look it. Umr chor.
I miss visiting Old Lahore. It sparked something in me. And I wish I was more involved in college activities like writing or sports.
Anyway. I just woke up from a very fulfilling nap and saw this cute orange square on my screen. Blogger. So I decided to use it. Bye.

Snowfall.

I wish to see snowfall. It's been so long. Too long, in fact.
Winters are my favourite time of the year. So I'm generally happy. 
There's just something about grey,cold mornings and walking to the bus stop with "You" playing in my ears. It's a feeling unlike any other. I've worn double socks and double sweaters for the first time ever, and it's such a warm toasty feeling Two sweaters sometimes makes me feel like I'm in a bind, though.
Fourth year of med school now really does feel like the REAL DEAL. Doctor? Really? Shiiiit. This is happening. Wards, however unimportant, should be attended for practice. Gynaecology is from Monday and that is a crucial one.

I have made these unique rules about rishta-picking:

1. When I look the guy up online, his first and last name should be spelled with a capital. 
2. He should be able to spell "bureau" and "queue". Yes, I will ask them face to face.
3. This is going to sound discriminatory. But since my Urdu is, at best tolerable, he must have good working English. I cannot stress how important this is.
4. He needs to be a complex person.

The other rules are the same old. Funny, witty, blah blah.
This doesn't mean that H is out of the picture. He's still very much there, actually. But at the moment this alter ego refuses to acknowledge the reality of the situation because it's too painful to experience. And don't go telling me to be strong. I'd like to see you do it.

This New Year, along with the other usual stuff, I've decided to let things be. I don't need to go around looking for reasons for why things happened to me. 
Faith. Is going to play a major role this year. Allah ki marzi. People walked out of my life, and didn't bother telling me why. So here I am, allowing them to go. Without torturing my brain with all the minute details.

 Letting go.

Happy belated New Year peeple :)

I want all of these! (Oh how I've missed adding photos)