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Twitter twitter every where!

17 Jul

“Arey yaar! bataya tou tha chachi ke yahan janna hay” – Mr. X

“Ramdan ka tou khayal kar, kab bataya?”- Mr.Y

“Twitter pe! bus meri responsibility khatam! ab yeh mat kehna ke tu ne check nai kiya!” – Mr X

“Zahir hay, mujhe laga phone karna zyada asaan tha” – Mr. Y

The conversation proceeded with an array of taunts regarding how technologically lagging My. Y was, and how dumb it was to expect a call.


Thanks to twitter! It’s viral and it’s every where… Back in early 2000’s when I was in school, I remember being resistant in taking permission from my mother for an orkut profile. Then, facebook took over the social media, and now twitter.

It’s increasingly growing importance in communication clouds is impressive and thought provoking. Journalists, news channels, celebrities and students specifically update themselves and the people they know, as well as those whom they are not concerned with, via there twitter profile. There popularity is a measure of how many known/unknown people follow them on twitter, there social activism is a measure of how many RTs (Re tweets) they ACHIEVE. There coolness is a measure of there contributions to the hash tags on the top trends list, and their knowledge is a measure of how controversial they comment on tweets which are merely based on facts.

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Precisely, Twitter is your personality and your career. There are campaigns which are being carried out on it every day, and people are actually paid for it. So, unemployed people should work on developing their twitter skills. Just tweet randomly, certainly less care about how much sense your words make.

And then there are others who make very good use of it! never to ignore those sensible people who are well aware of the vacuum the social media has filled up, and utilize it’s extensive use all over the world – Tweet for a change they say!

It’s all good! Twitter, it’s use; all of it. What I ponder upon is the weight-age it carries in deciding ones’ future. After all, twitter can never replace merit.

A few years ago, I happened to attend a session of an anchor/host from Geo Television network on media education, I remember him saying that Facebook and twitter are nothing but a mere waste of time. I came back home, looked up for him on facebook and came across his fully updated facebook profile. How expected! – just wondering, didn’t he knew that the audience he was addressing had a twitter and facebook account and he can easily be looked up?

Anyways, keep tweeting. Happy Tweeting!


My story just ended…. holding on to last breaths!

4 Mar

It was bleeding fiercely, mercilessly…. It has been that way since ages… I have seen tales coming to halt, on roads, in vehicles…. but I never thought my last breaths would be entangled under my own lethal roof.


I know I am not the only one writing to lessen the burdens on my heart. There are plenty, and we do so because it aches. It hurts, and I squirm in misery. I want to extend my arms and wipe out those intense tears of those angelic kids and hopeful mothers, but then I pause, and think. What would I say to them? With what tone, with what hope of ease would I express my baseless faith that they would be granted justice, when I don’t see even a glimpse of a figure who claims to have a job of protecting people? what if I end up shedding tears of helplessness? Would I be strength, hope and faith for them, when I know that I am numb?
I can curl my hands feebly, and collect those tears that reflect wounds which crave for death, yes, they want to hug graves… for them, beauty has faded, life has faded. They want to die, because they know whether they would have enough days before they would witness a similar brutal incident, and they would fall again.

We can’t lapse again and again, we can’t weep in intervals, broken to bits, we have lost sense of happening. We have shed so much tears, that our world is nothing but a black screen. Please, don’t gather our pieces.It’s useless. We would not prick your heart, but in spirit, we would be powdered.

Am I the only one who is devoid of a vibrant teenage? After years, If I stay alive, would I ever be able to tell my grand generation about my blissful, peaceful teenage life? Would I even remember what peace means??

Their is no justification for the lives lost, for your failure.
Quaid, I am sorry, but the Pakistan you fought for, Is a grave yard. I know you never dreamed of it that way, and I know it pinches hard, even I have tried to hold my self back from writing these words, but these wet hands, they can’t write praising compliments any more.

Becoming a doctor, I don’t see a normal life. I see deprivation. Kudos, government of Pakistan, for exhausting my future, my dreams, my respect… most importantly, my Quaids’ aspirations. Thank you!


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