pen.books.and.scalpel

I am not sure how to react exactly to her comment. She said, “Ooh, look at her distributing sweets for her brother’s wedding. Maybe she will treat us for hers soon too” and then fake laughed with the rest of them. Christy is not exactly my nemesis, neither she is my friend. We enjoy each other's company until we can no longer tolerate each other. Everyone in between is a noise.    “Oh, Christy! See who's talking. The one who couldn't convince her parents to attend a ‘friend’s’ family function,” I stress the word friend and draw quotation in the air with my fingers. “You know my sister-in-law is exactly like that. She couldn't convince her parents against this marriage.” I realise it's wrong to bring Aliza into our feud but now I find no other way out. “At this rate, you could turn into someone’s daughter-in-law soon too. Watch out,” I smirk, and her face turns ashen. That's exactly what I intend to see on that face.   The rest of them boo and her face turns ...

After a stretch of celebrations and ritual after ritual, the home is finally at peace. If this is what marriage is all about, I am deeply concerned. I want to stay clear that I am not interested in marriages and ceremonies. I am not made for it, and I must implant the idea in my parents’ hearts now and then.    Aliza is now a programmed machine at my home. I know her schedule by heart. When she wakes up, when she cooks, when she washes dishes and clothes, and when she finally rests. I can’t be this person when I grow up. I dream of reading more, travelling around the world, and making myself financially stable. Escaping this system is my plan. But will everyone around me let me live my life? I have no idea, but I will never stop working towards that goal.   I see Aliza look longingly at me as I pack my school bag. She has been throwing shady looks since she got to know I am getting back to school today. First, there was sadness in her eyes and then a bit of jealousy t...

She appears nervous, as she must be. She is sweating even when seated directly under the ceiling fan, dread written all over her face in bold. Aliza does not look like the one to survive my mother. She appears naive, like a damsel in distress looking out for her husband to save her from every minor inconvenience. But the poor thing doesn't know my brother so well. What made her fall for him? Eww! Yeah, I shouldn't be the one telling this. But there is honestly nothing desirable in my brother, Ahmed. He looks smart, yes. It runs in our genes. And has a decent job with a secure future. But that's it. There is nothing I can say is remarkable about him. I wonder how my parents convinced Aliza.   I am seated exactly opposite her, across the hallway. From here, I can notice the beads of sweat adorning her forehead which she is trying to wipe every two seconds with her soiled napkin. Her eyeballs are rhythmically moving towards the door and then back to my brother’s face. Though...

I am not gonna lie, but I was momentarily fascinated by the current “viral” Studio Ghibli trend before returning to my senses. The number of posts and reels on this trend that popped into my feed is humongous and is still going on. It’s mind-numbing, to say the least. But can we really blame people for using it? Because any trend will trick people into trying it with all the buzz surrounding it. We are humans, after all, and we do fall for simple things in life. But why is this trend not so simple, and why did the original creator express dissatisfaction with this?   To help you understand the depth of this issue, I am sharing two versions of a same story, one of which I wrote. Here comes the first one.   VERSION 1

Here comes the big announcement for the most awaited Blogchatter A to Z challenge 2025. I have been waiting impatiently for this challenge to return but equally dreaded it because I had no ideas in hand. I tried to pen down several blogs based on books, authors, places, and material and immaterial things, but nothing sat down well with me . My last year’s A to Z challenge was a disaster because I could not complete it for several reasons. I didn't want to repeat it this year, so I was extremely cautious in choosing what to write.    But wait, what happened the year before that? Didn't I write a series story that ended well? It was something I loved writing and sharing with my fellow bloggers. I enjoyed the feedback that came with it, too. It was also the start of something significant in my life. So, the storyteller in me nudged me to draft a tale again, like in 2023. But what to write about? I have been working on many themes, and nothing is more than halfway done yet. So, ...

Dr Locard has stated an excellent and practical principle that is usually used in forensic medicine: “Every contact between two individuals or objects leaves a trace, no matter how much they try not to.” This principle has stayed with me ever since I came across it because it holds true not just for forensics but also for life in general.   No matter how much we try to live in quiescence within our bubble and leave the world in isolation, we always leave a trace behind while also picking up something from this world. In that case, why not make the legacy rich and valuable? There are some traits I would want to leave behind no matter if someone chooses to follow or take lessons and avoid them.   1. My Books I don't want to build myself a library, said no reader ever. I, too, like every normal bibliophile, have the dream of making myself a home library, and I am already in the process. I might not be wealthy enough to leave behind an asset, but my book collection is nothing...

BOOK NAME: MY FRIENDS AUTHOR NAME: HISHAM MATAR GENRE: POLITICAL FICTION  PUBLISHER: PENGUIN INDIA BOOK BUY LINK:  https://www.amazon.in/dp/0241987032? BOOK RATING: 5/5   BOOK COVER IMAGE     BOOK REVIEW If you were to meet me now and find me talking in this vivacious, verbose and intensely tangible poetic language, then blame this book for the influence, not me. I am still trying to crawl out of the world Hisham Matar has carved with his words, and I find it highly challenging to return to my reality.    What do you mean I don't belong with them and haven't witnessed the bond between Hosam, Khaled and Mustafa in person? Was I not a part of Hisham’s world? Did I not live there among them moving between Benghazi, Libya, to Edinburg and London? Was I not a part of the demonstration they were in, and did I not survive my wounds beside them fighting for their country? How can one turn blind to their lives and the bonds that were severed, mended, and sev...