Two Thunderclaps for P’kaboo Authors, and e-launches to come

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Originally posted on the red ant:
(The story so far:  Exams, sick children, load shedding and missing megabytes notwithstanding, we soldier on towards that mekka, that promised land called “Holidays”…and this morning, we…

” A poem to my lover”

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i love you and i love to love you and i love everything about you your eyes , your face , your six packs and beard your touch , your smile , attention… Continue reading

Thank you :-)

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Originally posted on Violin Tricks:
Thank you my wonderful students and parents for a lovely Studio Concert on Friday! Despite the threat of load-shedding hanging over us (for which we prepared by getting…

A place that is special…

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“A child becomes weak that time when he leaves the mother’s lap and goes far from her” I can remember my childhood that often reminds me of my relationship with mother.My father as… Continue reading

Teen Suicide

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Girls are under threat mostly in Pakistan and all over the world. This piece is about today’s boys who threat the girls and mostly upload their pictures in Face book. We all know… Continue reading

“Waiting room”

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waiting room is so full of sick people in crisis people have terrible sad expressions on their faces they all waiting to hear the right diagnosis their bodies are there , but their… Continue reading

The Losing Game

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I have a funny feeling that whatever I do during the next few months, it won’t lead to a winning situation for me. Things are complicated, and by stating this I am not… Continue reading

A Romantic Feminist

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It sounds like an oxymoron, a romantic feminist. If you believe stereotypes, feminists aren’t even feminine! Where I come from, women who are pro-women are assumed to be anti-man! So what’s a feminist… Continue reading

The Rejection

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As the interview day was approaching near, I was totally nervous and felt out of my comfort zone completely. It was justified because it was my first “job” interview ever. Last 15 years… Continue reading

” street child”

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i don’t know you , you don’t know me a dirty street child , that’s what you call me you take a look at my torn clothes and you say what a little… Continue reading