<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453</id><updated>2011-11-03T13:41:40.903-07:00</updated><category term='future'/><category term='taqdeer'/><category term='tayyaba'/><category term='sad'/><category term='absolute'/><category term='hardwork'/><category term='thoughtful'/><category term='success'/><category term='night'/><category term='brain'/><category term='dream'/><category term='alone'/><category term='ways'/><category term='fate'/><category term='destiny'/><category term='time'/><category term='beautiful'/><category term='emotions'/><category term='mutlaq'/><category term='feelings'/><category term='thoughts'/><category term='sweet'/><category term='muulak'/><category term='prince'/><category term='joyia'/><category term='conception'/><category term='why'/><category term='isolated'/><category term='nice'/><category term='elements'/><category term='confusion'/><category term='friends'/><title type='text'>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</title><subtitle type='html'>just some sharing of my life</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>58</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-7448684539044201103</id><published>2011-11-03T13:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-03T13:41:41.053-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Essence of october 2011</title><content type='html'>We spend very unexpected times in our life. But i feel this october was very different. Its natural that each &amp;amp; every day of our life can&amp;#39;t be same but some days are really unique, like this october. I must say that this month was so saturated. Filled with depression &amp;amp; pleasure, pain &amp;amp; relief, disappointment &amp;amp; excitement etc. . . . &lt;p&gt;The most significant facts of this month are:&lt;br&gt;end of summer vacations &amp;amp; beginning of second semester, shifting to new hostel, starting my visits to dentist for the sake of braces, going back home twice in a month for the first time ever, arrival of someone in my life, so much shopping, initiated the diet, a first clash with my inlaws,&lt;br&gt;more understanding with my fianc&amp;#233;.&lt;p&gt;In short there was so much enthusiasm. This month was actually filled with energy but there are some painful memories too but this is life so as a result of all this i&amp;#39;m feeling more confident as well as determined for myself. . . .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-7448684539044201103?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/7448684539044201103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2011/11/essence-of-october-2011.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/7448684539044201103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/7448684539044201103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2011/11/essence-of-october-2011.html' title='Essence of october 2011'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-1642588239952788799</id><published>2011-08-12T01:59:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-12T01:59:03.330-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Bachelors going for Graduation</title><content type='html'>In the winters of 2005, i had no vision, no idea, not even a single thought of where i&amp;#39;ll be going for my bachelors. Neither the institution, nor the city. What subjects i&amp;#39;ll be choosing. But as soon as the summers arrived, i started struggling for my admission. Finally, I got admission as undergrad. At the time of admission, it seemed a long journey. A Four Year Bachelor! I was told many things from my friends &amp;amp; relatives regarding it. Some said your fun starts now. Others said start your bachelors, go to sleep &amp;amp; keep waiting because four year won&amp;#39;t go in a blink.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-1642588239952788799?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/1642588239952788799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2011/08/bachelors-going-for-graduation.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/1642588239952788799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/1642588239952788799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2011/08/bachelors-going-for-graduation.html' title='A Bachelors going for Graduation'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-3752824949239884596</id><published>2011-05-12T11:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-13T13:20:44.596-07:00</updated><title type='text'>may 2011</title><content type='html'>Sitting at this time at the terrace of my hostel in dark &amp; thinking about my life! Its true that my life isn't going much satisfactory. I'm far away from the feelings of content. There are many reasons behind this. So many things have changed my life &amp; even me. I laugh more than before but at the same time the intensity of fearful thoughts in me has increased. To be true, i never knew how we get changed. I always used to explain the people around me that i've changed but when i'm really changed, i don't tell others. I try to hide my problems &amp; feelings from others. It might be maturity or selfishness but i can feel it in me. . . At the same time i sometimes want to share everything but i don't find anything appropriate for that. I was waiting to share the matters but when how where &amp; with whom were the restrictions. So finally i did what was in approach. I planned to write!&lt;br&gt;The first main reason for my anxiety is the health problems my family is suffering from. My father has got stones in his kidney. He's already diabetic &amp; had a bypass about 1.5year ago. He needs to be operated again but we all have fears regarding his health. Whenever he has pain in the kidney, it hurts us badly. I can't see him in pain. The only favour i can do i to pray &amp; that i do as much as i can. . . I cannot even think about losing him. I wish Allah blesses him good health &amp; active life. Besides my father's health, my mother remains ill all the time. Its very few blushing moments that we're able to see her healthy &amp; fresh. She's diabetic &amp; has stomach problems. I wish she gets relief from all the things she's dealing with. Now comes my brother. He's suffering from stomach problem since 1year but his condition is still not satisfactory. I had many problems &amp; finally anaemia was recently diagnosed as well as the water retention &amp; ESR. Now i know the value of health in our lives. . . Its impossible to deal with the hardships of life without good health. Everything seems worst &amp; the potential to fight with anything gets weakened. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The second most important issue that creates panic is the unhealthy relations with some friends. Most of them are the friends whose name i'm not willing to mention here. There are countless misunderstandings between us but i've left everything unclear because i don't have much stamina to get indulged into the long conversations &amp; prove myself. I've got to the conclusion that all other relations are fake except parents &amp; sibling. I don't have any grudges for anyone neither have anything in my heart for or against them. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Even i read today that end is the part of word friend which i think is a fact. No friendship remains forever. Friends have to get separated through anything. . . But they have to! &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Another tension for me is the hectic routine nowadays. . . I never had an idea that this university life or studies will become burden for me. But it has happened. . . Its becoming hard for me day by day to cope with this fast life! I try to visit home after every fifteen days like never before which is also very hectic. . . &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;My writing ends here without concluding anything&lt;br&gt; 		 	   		  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-3752824949239884596?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/3752824949239884596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2011/05/may-2011.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/3752824949239884596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/3752824949239884596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2011/05/may-2011.html' title='may 2011'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-4130906594847401686</id><published>2011-05-11T14:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-13T13:20:44.883-07:00</updated><title type='text'>check post</title><content type='html'>from my mobile&lt;br&gt; 		 	   		  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-4130906594847401686?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/4130906594847401686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2011/05/check-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/4130906594847401686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/4130906594847401686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2011/05/check-post.html' title='check post'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-694335958009777745</id><published>2010-12-30T23:13:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T23:13:38.830-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Twenty ten ends!</title><content type='html'>As usual lying on the bed i opened my eyes and searched my cell phone around me. When i found It, i read three texts in my inbox. Both said good morning as usual but the messages were much lengthy mentioning that this is the last day of 2010. Reading them i realised &amp;#39;Yeah! Its 31st of december&amp;#39;. &lt;p&gt;A series of memories passed through my thoughts. Like the moving waves. One after the other. Those can&amp;#39;t be mentioned because its really not possible to write the happenings of whole year in one post.&lt;p&gt;If i evaluate the year 2010, it had been very good for me. Twenty ten really gave me many good memories. The most important of them are; &lt;p&gt;I&amp;#39;ve done my bachelors :) ,&lt;br&gt;My brother&amp;#39;s engagement &amp;lt;3, &lt;br&gt;My cousin&amp;#39;s nikkah,&lt;br&gt;Happily spent first year of my sister&amp;#39;s wedding &amp;lt;3, &lt;br&gt;One of my best friends has become a mother, &lt;br&gt;My cousin became a mother after 4years of her marriage,&lt;br&gt;A brother (cousin) passed the written exam of CSS,&lt;br&gt;A friend&amp;#39;s attitude turned very positive for which i did alot of struggle &amp;amp; wait with patience,&lt;br&gt;The maturity in me,&lt;br&gt;I explored many areas in Pakistan where i never visited before,&lt;br&gt;Had a very good time with my friends and family,&lt;br&gt;Last but not least the increase in income of my father! :)&lt;p&gt;Its very natural phenomenon that positive and negative things keep going side by side. There had been many negative impacts on my life in this year as well. That i obviously can&amp;#39;t ignore i.e &lt;br&gt;My GPA in the last semester was the least as compared to my all other semesters, &lt;br&gt;I&amp;#39;ve spent the first year without my sister living with me, &lt;br&gt;I once again had an asthma attack after about 2.5 years, &lt;br&gt;I&amp;#39;m living away from my friends with whom i spent 4years,&lt;br&gt;A fuss created in the family by a feeling-less man,&lt;br&gt;The veil removed from a friend&amp;#39;s face whom i considered my best friend but still i love her,&lt;br&gt;I lost one year of my young life :p, &lt;br&gt;And most important, the news that my father has stones in his kidney and he needs to get operated. . . . &lt;p&gt;Besides all these things, i&amp;#39;m very satisfied from my life (except my father&amp;#39;s health).  Good &amp;amp; evil, positive &amp;amp; negative, advantages &amp;amp; disadvantages these all make a LIFE. The days, weeks, months, years &amp;amp; decades makes a life &amp;amp; it keeps going no matter what happens to whom. So we should try to make little moments important, happy and full of life. Because we&amp;#39;re only given one life to live. It depends on us how we prefer spending it.&lt;p&gt;At the end i pray on the last friday of the last week of the last month of the last year of the first decade of the first century of second millennium brings alot of happiness and excitement in the future of our lives. We all spend better days than ever. Remain contented and most of all, our Country comes in one of the developed countries in the world. All the issues get resolved specially electricity, pollution and poverty.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-694335958009777745?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/694335958009777745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2010/12/twenty-ten-ends.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/694335958009777745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/694335958009777745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2010/12/twenty-ten-ends.html' title='Twenty ten ends!'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-6751067136344621205</id><published>2010-12-30T12:23:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T12:23:11.354-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Helplessness</title><content type='html'>At this time of night, there&amp;#39;s no purpose of writing this post but my mind is filled with tension so its better to write my feelings somewhere. Although i&amp;#39;m finding no words to express my feelings, but still i&amp;#39;ll do. &lt;p&gt;The overall concentration of my thoughts is occupied by a news i heard today. The news that my father needs to get his kidney operated for the stones in it!!! &lt;p&gt;About twenty days ago, i was informed that my father has a stone in his kidney. And it was too shocking for me. But i was told so normally as if this is something very usual. Although it might be, but it really trembled me. Being so concerned for him, i started insisting him to go to some kidney specialist. But he was waiting for the 40th day of his bhaabi&amp;#39;s death. So that he gets free totally and then start his cure. He did what he wanted. Finally after the 40th day, he went for the x-ray. Which revealed that he has 6stones in the kidney. 1big and 5small. This news was again a shock. Now today, he took the reports to the specialist &amp;amp; he said he needs operation. The stone is too big that it can&amp;#39;t be operated with laser. Further he explained that if we want to have the best operation, we should go Karachi. Where the best kidney doctors are available. . . &lt;p&gt;I know my father. He wont go there. But when i heard this depressing news, i felt so helpless. Its really very hard to see our parents suffering and you can&amp;#39;t even comfort them!! &lt;p&gt;I wish he gets well soon. I&amp;#39;m pushing him to get operation done asap. But the tension is that he&amp;#39;s already diabetic patient. Had a bypass operation too! Don&amp;#39;t know what will happen now. I still have those painful days in my mind and another such situation aroused. . . &lt;p&gt;For me, a father is more important than my mother. Not that i don&amp;#39;t love her, but the only reason is my attachment with him. Its true i&amp;#39;m more sensitive for him than anything else in the world. He&amp;#39;s my hero and my role model. I can&amp;#39;t see him tense or in pain. And the concept of losing him is the worst fear ever. &lt;p&gt;Its a request to all those who read this post to just pray atleast once for my father. Only for some seconds. It&amp;#39;ll be the best gift for me ever. Thanks&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-6751067136344621205?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/6751067136344621205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2010/12/helplessness.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/6751067136344621205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/6751067136344621205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2010/12/helplessness.html' title='Helplessness'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-6507650164759294620</id><published>2010-12-28T12:12:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-28T12:12:43.872-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Check email</title><content type='html'>Sending from my mobile&lt;p&gt;-- &lt;br&gt;Sent from my mobile device&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-6507650164759294620?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/6507650164759294620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2010/12/check-email.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/6507650164759294620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/6507650164759294620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2010/12/check-email.html' title='Check email'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-7007891051349038864</id><published>2010-11-01T16:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-01T16:24:10.219-07:00</updated><title type='text'>dreams (a random writing)</title><content type='html'>dreams are a part of our lives. Almost every human dreams. So do I.&lt;br&gt;I dream not only when i sleep but i&amp;#39;m a big day dreamer too. And i&lt;br&gt;respect my dreams.&lt;br&gt;For the people around me, i&amp;#39;m not that person what i really am. I&lt;br&gt;dream big. I think big. I seem non-serious but i&amp;#39;m very serious.&lt;br&gt;As dreams are usually Strange, so i really sometimes dream impossible&lt;br&gt;things happening for me. And as a muslim, having strong faith on&lt;br&gt;Allah, i believe everything can happen for me. All that is possible&lt;br&gt;upto what i can imagine because i know my tiny thoughts are nothing&lt;br&gt;for Great Allah. . . .&lt;br&gt;I pray and hope that possible dreams of every human come true for&lt;br&gt;their better life. And at the same time, i beg Allah (SWT) to turn&lt;br&gt;some dreams in reality. . .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-7007891051349038864?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/7007891051349038864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2010/11/dreams-random-writing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/7007891051349038864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/7007891051349038864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2010/11/dreams-random-writing.html' title='dreams (a random writing)'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-9186236836874003857</id><published>2010-10-29T04:51:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-29T04:51:50.422-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a stage</title><content type='html'>these days i&amp;#39;m very free. Have nothing special or important to do. But&lt;br&gt;as life keeps Going, my days are passing. . .&lt;br&gt;I went uni today. It was fun meeting my friends. And some juniors. The&lt;br&gt;university is same but changed alot for me. Because i feel i&amp;#39;m no more&lt;br&gt;the student of fjwu. Don&amp;#39;t know why but i feel. These feelings are&lt;br&gt;almost the same as i was newcomer. These feelings push me to think&lt;br&gt;about my life. When i was a newcomer in this beautiful world, i was&lt;br&gt;weak. And when i&amp;#39;ll get old i&amp;#39;ll again be weak. The same way 4years&lt;br&gt;ago, i was shy and weak. And after doing my bachelors, i&amp;#39;m again weak.&lt;br&gt;I feel this place isn&amp;#39;t mine. . .&lt;br&gt;This is a very critical stage of my life. I&amp;#39;ve to plan and decide most&lt;br&gt;important things. I need to take big steps. I&amp;#39;ve to chose my future.&lt;br&gt;To study or to do job or to wait and marry. To be true i&amp;#39;m still&lt;br&gt;trying to remain away from this fact.&lt;br&gt;Very blindly i trust Allah that whatever will happen, it&amp;#39;ll be good for me. . .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-9186236836874003857?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/9186236836874003857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2010/10/stage.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/9186236836874003857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/9186236836874003857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2010/10/stage.html' title='a stage'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-3793522909668982272</id><published>2010-10-08T14:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-08T14:36:32.054-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gurdawara at Nankana sahib</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/TK-O4Dq7HNI/AAAAAAAAAOk/ITsuebDJLUA/s1600/26092010782-792055.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/TK-O4Dq7HNI/AAAAAAAAAOk/ITsuebDJLUA/s320/26092010782-792055.jpg"  border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525792361516047570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/TK-O4kyzROI/AAAAAAAAAOs/CzNHh-o3qWo/s1600/26092010780-793948.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/TK-O4kyzROI/AAAAAAAAAOs/CzNHh-o3qWo/s320/26092010780-793948.jpg"  border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525792370407458018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-3793522909668982272?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/3793522909668982272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2010/10/gurdawara-at-nankana-sahib.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/3793522909668982272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/3793522909668982272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2010/10/gurdawara-at-nankana-sahib.html' title='Gurdawara at Nankana sahib'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/TK-O4Dq7HNI/AAAAAAAAAOk/ITsuebDJLUA/s72-c/26092010782-792055.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-6000433109057024308</id><published>2010-10-05T16:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-05T16:07:32.521-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Excitement</title><content type='html'>I&amp;#39;m so happy end excited that i wanted to share it now :-) and this was the best way to express it. &lt;br&gt;The reason for this excitement and happiness is the presence of a friend. A very very very important and valuable friend. Whose presence gives me so much pleasure that nothing can alter its ratings. &lt;br&gt;I really hope it&amp;#39;ll continue. I welcome my friend :-)&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;(my updates will be very regular and consistent now)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-6000433109057024308?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/6000433109057024308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2010/10/excitement.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/6000433109057024308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/6000433109057024308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2010/10/excitement.html' title='Excitement'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-7076317530946012441</id><published>2010-10-03T07:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-14T01:47:24.886-07:00</updated><title type='text'>mohabbat usay bi thi</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(153,51,0);" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Dekha palat k us ne&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;k,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(153,51,0)"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;hasrat usay bhi thi...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(153,51,0);" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Hum jis pe &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;mit ga&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;ye&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(153,51,0)"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;mohabbat usay bi thi...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(153,51,0)"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;span id="lw_1286114508_1" class="yshortcuts"&gt;Chup&lt;/span&gt; ho gaya tha dekh kar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(153,51,0)"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;wo&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;bhi idhar&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;udhar,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(153,51,0);" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;uniy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;a se meri ta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;rh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(153,51,0)"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;s&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;hikayat usay&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;bhi thi...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-7076317530946012441?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/7076317530946012441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2010/10/mohabbat-usay-bi-thi.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/7076317530946012441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/7076317530946012441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2010/10/mohabbat-usay-bi-thi.html' title='mohabbat usay bi thi'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-2760504707552252196</id><published>2010-08-19T13:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-19T13:04:16.424-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Restlessness</title><content type='html'>Not in a mood to compose my writing very neatly.&lt;br&gt;Its 9th of ramadan. Sitting On the roof of my hostel. Its about 1am. Although at this time i fear coming on the roof but no fear near me at this time. Its all black around me. Feeling tore. Something is tearing my heart. . . Thoughts don&amp;#39;t leave me. Although i remain happy. The colors of life are glittering. There&amp;#39;s big increase in the number of my friends but with each passing day i feel left. I feel there&amp;#39;s no reason for me to live this life. . . &lt;br&gt;The weather is really amazing. My favourite moments regarding weather. It seems as if it&amp;#39;ll rain. First time in my life i&amp;#39;m getting attracted towards The light sparks at the sky in night. . . But the condition of my heart isn&amp;#39;t good enough. Secondly two hour walk was really hectic.&lt;br&gt;These days i don&amp;#39;t like texting. Not much interested in talking and sharing matters with even best friends. The friends with whom i used to share everything.&lt;br&gt;I&amp;#39;m having the feelings of grown up individual. So its also the reason i don&amp;#39;t feel like sharing my issues with others. . . Even a friend had been asking me to update my blogs. But i feel nothing is left to write. I really pray to Allah to give me patience. And thats the only wish which i feel i should make&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-2760504707552252196?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/2760504707552252196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2010/08/restlessness.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/2760504707552252196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/2760504707552252196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2010/08/restlessness.html' title='Restlessness'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-7329112094513975841</id><published>2010-01-08T00:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-08T00:39:36.783-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Friends? (dedication to a friend)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;(the lines are not written By me but i strongly feel these words are written For me)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you more everyday,&lt;br /&gt;My name i long for you to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you know just how i feel?&lt;br /&gt;Do you know this love is real?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I wonder what you think.&lt;br /&gt;When you hear my name, do your cheeks turn pink?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you dream about me every night?&lt;br /&gt;Do you think we're meant to be?&lt;br /&gt;Together forever, you and me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are the questions that run through my mind,&lt;br /&gt;Your way into my heart you did find.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It drives me crazy as to what i should do,&lt;br /&gt;Should i risk friendship and confess to you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or should i keep my feelings inside,&lt;br /&gt;Keep them lockedup, let them hide?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just don't know what to do anymore,&lt;br /&gt;My heart it aches, my heart it's sore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you more than you could know,&lt;br /&gt;And i don't want to ever let you go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So even if I'm just a friend,&lt;br /&gt;I'll always love you until the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By: LeAnNe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-7329112094513975841?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/7329112094513975841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2010/01/just-friends-dedication-to-friend.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/7329112094513975841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/7329112094513975841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2010/01/just-friends-dedication-to-friend.html' title='Just Friends? (dedication to a friend)'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-4814123501088741160</id><published>2010-01-07T02:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T03:06:55.635-08:00</updated><title type='text'>reasons...</title><content type='html'>us shaguftagi k murjhaanay ki wajoohaat hen kaafi,&lt;br /&gt;is dil k toot jaane k sabab bohat hen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;jo dil me aaya keh daala,&lt;br /&gt;ab zabaan kolagaam k ehal bohat hen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-4814123501088741160?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/4814123501088741160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2010/01/reasons.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/4814123501088741160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/4814123501088741160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2010/01/reasons.html' title='reasons...'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-6565682038031130365</id><published>2010-01-07T02:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-10-14T02:14:46.917-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ishaaray</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;kehne ko us ne kuch na kaha,&lt;br /&gt;ishaaron me magar &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;baten bohat keen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;muje karne ko or kuch na tha,&lt;br /&gt;ik ik lafz ki magar taabeerain bohat kin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sunnay ko kuch na tha,&lt;br /&gt;magar samajnay ko bohat kuch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kuch un-kahay qissay suna daale us ne,&lt;br /&gt;kuch kahi baten un-kahi kar deen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ye ishaaron ki duniya sa koi kahan zalim he,&lt;br /&gt;pachtaava he gar samjo to, na samjo to bi galti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ik hi sabak he seekha mene.......&lt;br /&gt;jo bola nahin wo raakh, gar zabaan pe he to mehaz afsana-e-khaak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;har dour me mene khud ko parkha magar,&lt;br /&gt;tashbeeh-o- ishaare ne mujko tabaah kar daala.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ab halat aisi ho gai he koi jo be karle,&lt;br /&gt;yaheek nahin hota zubaani bayaan tak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;haan ye sach he mera,&lt;br /&gt;kehne ka matlab or tha, likhne ka or.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;magar karne ka maqsad kuch na tha...&lt;br /&gt;shayed yehi tha ishaaron ka dour.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-6565682038031130365?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/6565682038031130365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2010/01/ishaaray.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/6565682038031130365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/6565682038031130365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2010/01/ishaaray.html' title='ishaaray'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-2448612691100386268</id><published>2009-10-26T14:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-26T14:46:37.097-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Me and my illness (last)</title><content type='html'>I faced many problems due to remaining so much ill. Now at the end,&lt;br&gt;i&amp;#39;ll mention the disadvantages or the drawbacks of my illness.&lt;br&gt;First of all the biggest disadvantage caused was when i was in class 2&lt;br&gt;(second standard) and i couldn&amp;#39;t go school to appear in my final exams&lt;br&gt;and finally the drawback was that i had to repeat that class. I&lt;br&gt;remember my parents did so many efforts but my principle refused and i&lt;br&gt;had to repeat that class :( :( :( i lost most of my friends. My&lt;br&gt;company was changed. And my new classmates thought that i&amp;#39;m not a&lt;br&gt;capable student so i&amp;#39;m repeating i.e. I failed my exams. Some of them&lt;br&gt;used to taunt me so much and i didn&amp;#39;t like it.&lt;br&gt;Secondly, as i&amp;#39;ve mentioned earlier, i lost the charms of many&lt;br&gt;functions :( i missed many tours. Most of the times, i used to remain&lt;br&gt;ill so i couldn&amp;#39;t enjoy the functions. Couldn&amp;#39;t dance at mehandis. Had&lt;br&gt;to wear so many sweaters even with fancy dresses. I can&amp;#39;t forget the&lt;br&gt;time when i was left in sheikhupura only because i was ill :( and all&lt;br&gt;my cousins went Murree, Azad Kashmir and many other hilly areas of&lt;br&gt;Pakistan. I was so jealous when i saw the snaps :(&lt;br&gt;then another problem is that i&amp;#39;ve got so many moles on my skin due to&lt;br&gt;extra exposure to sunlight :( i&amp;#39;ve got a skin problem. My moles keep&lt;br&gt;increasing now. I was always kept in sunlight throughout the winters&lt;br&gt;to keep me warm.&lt;br&gt;Another assumption is that most of my friends and family members say&lt;br&gt;that i gained weight because i had been taking very high potency&lt;br&gt;medicine at a very early age and then i constantly used them. Although&lt;br&gt;i don&amp;#39;t agree to this assumption but it really might be true that the&lt;br&gt;medicine made me fat :-P&lt;br&gt;another problem is that i always face the problem of my hands, feet,&lt;br&gt;eyes. They keep burning. Remain very hot. My eyes are unfresh although&lt;br&gt;i drink too much water but medicines burnt me. My eyes are yellow :(&lt;br&gt;i cant do fashion in winters :( i need to very heavily cover me.&lt;br&gt;Whenever i see my childhood pictures, i get depressed because all my&lt;br&gt;age fellows, class mates, cousins are wearing very nice dresses but&lt;br&gt;i&amp;#39;m wearing caps, jackets everywhere so i don&amp;#39;t like them :( I cant&lt;br&gt;drink much milk, eat rice, potatoes, yogurt, pickle etc etc. Specially&lt;br&gt;in winters. When i drink milk and sleep, my all veins, neck, throat,&lt;br&gt;nose everything gets blocked!! I believe it that such things really&lt;br&gt;create problems for me :(&lt;br&gt;I need to remain very very careful. The advantage of remaining sick is that i'm more careful for my health e.g. I can't sleep untill or unless i don't keep water beside my bed. Its a habit from childhood. Because i had been suffering from the severest bad cough that at times i couldn't wait for someone to go and bring water for me. So i always keep water with me or i can't sleep comfortably. In this regard i'm thankful to ayesha baji she noticed it only one that i've kept water with me and from that time, whenever i visit her home to spend a night, she does it for me. I hope i&amp;#39;ll succeed in killing&lt;br&gt;this disease :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-2448612691100386268?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/2448612691100386268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/me-and-my-illness-last.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/2448612691100386268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/2448612691100386268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/me-and-my-illness-last.html' title='Me and my illness (last)'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-3349430143499482934</id><published>2009-10-24T23:47:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-24T23:47:11.671-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Me and my illness (2)</title><content type='html'>And the next day she came to me in astonishment. I didn&amp;#39;t know she&lt;br&gt;heard me all the night. She said girl i was so scared that you can&lt;br&gt;pass any time. You&amp;#39;re really very strong. Aysha was the one who had&lt;br&gt;been very very very caring that time. No matter what what i do for&lt;br&gt;her, I can never return her for that time. I didn&amp;#39;t go university for&lt;br&gt;so many days.&lt;br&gt;Whenever i&amp;#39;m ill, i call my parents from hostel that i&amp;#39;m ill, they&lt;br&gt;both turn very upset. I remember when my friends told my parents about&lt;br&gt;my sickness, abu was shouting at phone &amp;#39;ye meri beti kisi ki bat to&lt;br&gt;maan hi nahin sakti na. Mene isko bohat mana kiya tha k lahore college&lt;br&gt;hi thik he. Pindi itna door mat jao. Yahan hamari jan azaab me ai&lt;br&gt;rehti he&amp;#39; and at the end he said slowly &amp;#39;is ko kahin le jao beta. Is&lt;br&gt;ka khayal rakhna&amp;#39;. I was shifted at baray abu&amp;#39;s home for a week. Met a&lt;br&gt;police physician there who advised me tablet &amp;quot;montika&amp;quot; for allergy.&lt;br&gt;And banned my morning and evening walk because he said pollen are very&lt;br&gt;active at those times. That tablet remained very effective and his&lt;br&gt;advise too.&lt;br&gt;I remember the days when i was kept in sunlight for the whole days. I&lt;br&gt;was given bath after weeks. I used to wear double caps and jackets in&lt;br&gt;school. Over packed as compared to other kids. Even from my childhood,&lt;br&gt;i remembered the names of my medicine and my doctors. Ami sometimes&lt;br&gt;tell me how i pronounced some of my medicine. Ventolin was usually&lt;br&gt;given to me for my breathing. Then Butamin. Nebulizing was regular.&lt;br&gt;Inhaler was in my pocket all the time. Strepsils is the most chewed&lt;br&gt;toffee. Erythrocine, hydrillin, benadryll, phanergan were all time&lt;br&gt;syrups with me. I&amp;#39;m much thankful to Allah that i&amp;#39;m much recovered&lt;br&gt;now. But i can&amp;#39;t forget the nights when i used to have even five&lt;br&gt;pillows under my neck to ease my breaths.&lt;br&gt;I didn&amp;#39;t let ami and pupho all the night. Even didn&amp;#39;t let them turn&lt;br&gt;their face. I forced them to keep their eyes open and keep their face&lt;br&gt;on my side. If they slept, i woke them up again.&lt;br&gt;Some funny incidents are also linked with my illness. Once i remember&lt;br&gt;pupho took me to the doctor (his name was asghar) and fortunately i&lt;br&gt;got some time to talk with him in loneliness. I told him that no one&lt;br&gt;allows me to eat my favorite food. They all stop me from eating&lt;br&gt;whatever i like. I cant drink tasteless &amp;#39;yakhni&amp;#39; all the time&lt;br&gt;secondly, they dont let me play (i always was stopped from touching&lt;br&gt;mud or clay because its cold in winters but i was always attracted&lt;br&gt;towards it). And he was very nice. He advised my pupho that i&amp;#39;ll&lt;br&gt;recover soon if i&amp;#39;ll be given my desired food ato eat :-) :-) :-) and&lt;br&gt;allowed to do what i want. I remember that day was very lucky for me&lt;br&gt;pupho took me for shopping and i was given whatever i pointed :-) i&lt;br&gt;was allowed to eat all the fried things and everyone wondered that i&lt;br&gt;really recovered soon that time :-) abu says that he never remained&lt;br&gt;that much worried for anything else. You&amp;#39;re my baby who made me think&lt;br&gt;too much. He used to keep thinking for hours when i got my foot&lt;br&gt;operated due to clots in it. I couldn&amp;#39;t walk. I lost the charms of so&lt;br&gt;many functions of my family. At even fatima baji&amp;#39;s wedding i was ill.&lt;br&gt;I wore highnecks with lehangd :D :D&lt;br&gt;everyone praise me that i&amp;#39;m a brave girl i fought for so long with my&lt;br&gt;illness. But i think its not my bravery. Its just life. I had to&lt;br&gt;remain alive because i had to spend the written days of my life. . .&lt;br&gt;I&amp;#39;m happy that i don&amp;#39;t get that much ill now there&amp;#39;re many factors for&lt;br&gt;that. My care, my age, the anti allergic tablet. The cleaner&lt;br&gt;environment in Pindi &amp;amp; islamabad. Small cuts or wounds aren&amp;#39;t a&lt;br&gt;problem for me now. I can take big capsules. I take so much care of me&lt;br&gt;specially when i&amp;#39;m at hostel. Thats the reason i think that i don&amp;#39;t&lt;br&gt;get much ill there and when i come home, i turn so careless like these&lt;br&gt;days so i&amp;#39;m ill again. I had been eating &amp;#39;achaar&amp;#39; (pickle) when there&lt;br&gt;was no one to stop me! But i&amp;#39;m planning to really stop being careless&lt;br&gt;because otherwise this &amp;#39;bimari&amp;#39; wont leave me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-3349430143499482934?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/3349430143499482934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/me-and-my-illness-2.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/3349430143499482934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/3349430143499482934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/me-and-my-illness-2.html' title='Me and my illness (2)'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-1221390491536045399</id><published>2009-10-24T22:27:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-24T22:27:40.729-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My illness and me</title><content type='html'>My life had been very difficult from my childhood and at the same&lt;br&gt;time, it was very comfortable too. I was such a child whose every&lt;br&gt;uttered word was fulfilled so i can call it a normal childhood but&lt;br&gt;still i believe that there unforgettable times even in a normal life.&lt;br&gt;Its the same with me. There are such times in my life that i can never&lt;br&gt;ever forget. Those images, those words, the people, the sounds, the&lt;br&gt;scenes all are sewed in my memories.&lt;br&gt;Out of those unforgettable times, nights are the most important and&lt;br&gt;dominant only because of my illness.&lt;br&gt;I used to remain very very ill in my childhood. Out of twelve months,&lt;br&gt;i used to remain healthy for five months and other seven months, i was&lt;br&gt;always &amp;amp; always ill. And in those times, some of the nights are&lt;br&gt;&amp;#39;memories forever&amp;#39; for me.&lt;br&gt;When i was very very young when i was a newcomer in this world, my&lt;br&gt;grandmother used to look after me. I was too young so i don&amp;#39;t remember&lt;br&gt;everything exactly of that phase of my life as my mother says i was 6&lt;br&gt;days old when i had a first asthma attack. So obviously i don&amp;#39;t&lt;br&gt;remember that time that what exactly happened to me and how i&lt;br&gt;survived. Then comes the phase of my life when i was about 4 to 5&lt;br&gt;years old. The images of that time are a bit blurred but still there&lt;br&gt;are some images in my mind that are mostly of nights. THE NIGHTS! The&lt;br&gt;dim light of smallest red color bulb. I remember all the things in&lt;br&gt;that light. The room setting, my combined bed with grandmother, my&lt;br&gt;medicine at one side of the room, my trunk that was kept beneath the&lt;br&gt;bed and it was always filled with &amp;#39;mitchells&amp;#39; candies, my pencils,&lt;br&gt;rubber and sharpeners, my little school bag and obviously my&lt;br&gt;grandmother who used to wake me up thrice in those nights and take me&lt;br&gt;washroom so that i don&amp;#39;t spoil the bed. I didn&amp;#39;t like it at that time&lt;br&gt;and used to show so much attitude and mood while going there and even&lt;br&gt;coming back but she was so humble and kind that she never minded. She&lt;br&gt;used to remain awake all the nights with me whenever i caught cold or&lt;br&gt;had asthma. My winter nights were always very horrible. I used to have&lt;br&gt;so many sweaters and jumpers even when i was in blanket. I hated that&lt;br&gt;time when i was given steam and kept covered for the next atleast&lt;br&gt;fifteen minutes. But obviously it was for my betterment.&lt;br&gt;Then comes the third phase of my life when my pupho (Hajra&amp;#39;s mother)&lt;br&gt;was my caretaker after my &amp;quot;daadi amman&amp;#39;s&amp;quot; death. These memories are&lt;br&gt;more clearer. I used to have very bad cough throughout the night. All&lt;br&gt;the cousins used to get much irritated from it. My pupho used to sleep&lt;br&gt;with me in a separate room for some specific reasons 1. To keep me&lt;br&gt;away from AC in summers or to keep the heaters on for me. 2. So that&lt;br&gt;all others don&amp;#39;t get disturbed by my loud cough and other sick voices&lt;br&gt;:-P because i always call my grandmother in pain and still i do the&lt;br&gt;same. unlike others i don&amp;#39;t say ami!!! Or mama!!! In shock or pain i&lt;br&gt;still call amman g!!! Because my grandmother was the first person who&lt;br&gt;solved all my problems and the feelings of her touch of affection are&lt;br&gt;still saved in me.&lt;br&gt;I remember my cousin amna baji used to get so irritated from my&lt;br&gt;sickness that once or twice at night she sticked the bottle of syrup&lt;br&gt;with my mouth when pupho wasn&amp;#39;t there. She never allowed me to eat&lt;br&gt;rice or any such thing. She was so strict with me. I used to fear her&lt;br&gt;like nothing else. Its from my childhood that i choose sweet things&lt;br&gt;for me. No lemon, no cold drinks,  Nothing spicy or sour was allowed&lt;br&gt;to me. I always used to have &amp;#39;parhezi khaana&amp;#39; but still i never&lt;br&gt;recovered fully. Yakhni, soup, biscuits were my diet or the chocolates&lt;br&gt;(at school from my pocket money). Doctors always explained my mother,&lt;br&gt;my grandma and pupho that i&amp;#39;ll be getting better with the passage of&lt;br&gt;time i.e. Age factor is involved in recovering and i always wanted to&lt;br&gt;grow old asap. I wanted the time to run fast so that i become a normal&lt;br&gt;girl. Free from any sickness.&lt;br&gt;Then comes the next phase when i went hostel. I spent the toughest&lt;br&gt;time there. I remember once i got very seriously ill at night but only&lt;br&gt;sid and zebi were with me. I was badly vomiting, had high fever but&lt;br&gt;there was no one who could take me to the doctor at 1o&amp;#39;clock. I&lt;br&gt;remember i forced sid to go and call ami. She told me very kindly that&lt;br&gt;its too late but i insisted her to tell ami to come soon. I knew sid&lt;br&gt;can&amp;#39;t go pco at this time but i was in so much pain that i was&lt;br&gt;fighting with her. She remained very loving. I salute her patience for&lt;br&gt;that night and at 5am, she jumped the gate and went at the nearby&lt;br&gt;neighbours to call ami and i still remember my mother arrived there at&lt;br&gt;6am. My all hostel mates were so caring and loving i cant return them&lt;br&gt;throughout my life.&lt;br&gt;Then comes the time when i came university. The first year was too&lt;br&gt;much difficult for me. I suffered the most severe asthma attack in a&lt;br&gt;hostel at harley street. All the girls were sure i&amp;#39;m gonna die but&lt;br&gt;still i survived!!! ;-)&lt;br&gt;my warden was so worried. She didn&amp;#39;t know what to do. She kept&lt;br&gt;listening my &amp;quot;amman g&amp;quot; all the night...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-1221390491536045399?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/1221390491536045399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/my-illness-and-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/1221390491536045399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/1221390491536045399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/my-illness-and-me.html' title='My illness and me'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-5070699740059889405</id><published>2009-10-24T13:21:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-24T13:21:28.499-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Desire</title><content type='html'>In urdu language, the line &amp;#39;hazaron khawahishen aisi&amp;#39; is used very&lt;br&gt;often. I think the same that &amp;#39;hazaron khawahishen aisi k har khawahish&lt;br&gt;pe dam nikle&amp;#39; but i also believe that there always is a special wish&lt;br&gt;in every heart. Special wish is something extraordinary for me.&lt;br&gt;I don&amp;#39;t have thousands of wishes, i&amp;#39;ve thousand bundles of wishes.&lt;br&gt;Some wishes are very special e.g. If i talk about my thoughts to go&lt;br&gt;somewhere, i really wish to go canada, switzerland or even iceland.&lt;br&gt;There are many reasons but most important is that i&amp;#39;m always attracted&lt;br&gt;towards cold areas. I love to live in ice. Snow fall is my weakness.&lt;br&gt;But one special dream or desire that is dominant out of them all is&lt;br&gt;that i actually see &amp;#39;niagara falls&amp;#39; with my eyes. That place is my&lt;br&gt;dream spot. I&amp;#39;ve dreamt it many times. I&amp;#39;ve seen it many times in&lt;br&gt;images. But i wanna hear that water fall in real. I hope this wish&lt;br&gt;will come true. Even if it doesn&amp;#39;t, i&amp;#39;ve no complains to Almighty&lt;br&gt;Allah and if i go there, it&amp;#39;ll be a &amp;quot;dream coming true&amp;quot;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-5070699740059889405?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/5070699740059889405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/desire.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/5070699740059889405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/5070699740059889405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/desire.html' title='Desire'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-8709912941198457370</id><published>2009-10-24T12:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-24T12:56:25.423-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A word</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SuNb6YcrcyI/AAAAAAAAANE/SW7elIWtm4U/s1600-h/Siemens005-785424.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SuNb6YcrcyI/AAAAAAAAANE/SW7elIWtm4U/s320/Siemens005-785424.jpg"  border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396257837073265442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;In today&amp;#39;s world, there still are some people who respect manners. Or&lt;br&gt;i can say they know how they should react to a mannered behavior. No&lt;br&gt;doubt everyone likes it when someone is much disciplined or shows you&lt;br&gt;some respect. But i am so astonished at a wonderful reaction by this&lt;br&gt;small girl. I call her &amp;#39;choto&amp;#39;. Even everyone calls her with this&lt;br&gt;name.&lt;br&gt;I asked her that whats your real name and it took me 5 minutes to&lt;br&gt;understand that her real name is &amp;#39;irum&amp;#39; because i got confused in irum&lt;br&gt;and kiran. She&amp;#39;s working at my pupho&amp;#39;s home. She&amp;#39;s too small to do&lt;br&gt;households or any other heavy stuff. So she&amp;#39;s kept just to sit beside&lt;br&gt;the baby &amp;#39;raameen&amp;#39; when all are busy. So that if she cries, &amp;#39;choto&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;should inform us that the baby is crying. Since i came here, i was&lt;br&gt;observing her. She&amp;#39;s very loving child. I asked my cousin about her&lt;br&gt;details and she told me that her mother has died. About two years ago&lt;br&gt;and they&amp;#39;re 4 sisters. No one was there to look after them secondly,&lt;br&gt;they are poor so they&amp;#39;re appointed as workers at different areas by&lt;br&gt;their father. I always used to pass smile whenever i saw her. And her&lt;br&gt;full smile reply was already there.&lt;br&gt;I had been very ill in the last few days and she was sitting beside&lt;br&gt;me. While i was holding the baby. We both were watching tv. I had a&lt;br&gt;bad cough so i asked her to please fetch me a glass of water. She&lt;br&gt;hurried to kitchen and brought that. As a response, i said &amp;#39;thank&lt;br&gt;youuuuu&amp;#39; and she again smiled :-) i smiled too.&lt;br&gt;She got so happy from a single words of &amp;#39;thanks&amp;#39; that whenever i&amp;#39;m&lt;br&gt;doing something, she comes to me and asks thousands of things. Do you&lt;br&gt;need this? Should i bring that? And once or twice i said yes. And i&lt;br&gt;realized that she does that only because she wants to listen &amp;#39;thank&lt;br&gt;you&amp;#39; or &amp;#39;shabash&amp;#39; or &amp;#39;very good&amp;#39; along with a smile.&lt;br&gt;I really like her too much. No one can bring back her mother so i try&lt;br&gt;to love her as much as i can. It comforts me like nothing else. When i&lt;br&gt;called her to have a photograph, no one can measure her excitement at&lt;br&gt;that time. She was extremely happy. And that really contented me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-8709912941198457370?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/8709912941198457370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/word_24.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/8709912941198457370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/8709912941198457370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/word_24.html' title='A word'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SuNb6YcrcyI/AAAAAAAAANE/SW7elIWtm4U/s72-c/Siemens005-785424.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-6940386136496220945</id><published>2009-10-23T11:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-23T11:16:44.214-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Aitbaar ka tootna ik bar hi kafi tha,&lt;p&gt;ye bar bar himmat mat azma.&lt;p&gt;ab to rahen hi nh dikhtin,&lt;p&gt;shayed tera mera safar itna hi tha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-6940386136496220945?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/6940386136496220945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/aitbaar-ka-tootna-ik-bar-hi-kafi-tha-ye.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/6940386136496220945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/6940386136496220945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/aitbaar-ka-tootna-ik-bar-hi-kafi-tha-ye.html' title=''/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-284382988899497401</id><published>2009-10-22T13:09:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-22T13:09:56.557-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Me</title><content type='html'>Wo awwal or me aakhir.&lt;p&gt;Ik tassawur-e-hasad muje us k kareeb hone nh deta&lt;p&gt;(the lines that i wrote about a month ago. But couldn&amp;#39;t arrange, fix,&lt;br&gt;polish or finish them)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-284382988899497401?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/284382988899497401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/284382988899497401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/284382988899497401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/me.html' title='Me'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-5381714315934728080</id><published>2009-10-21T13:06:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T13:06:46.188-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Daily</title><content type='html'>I get a new pain daily. And at the same time, i get a new idea to&lt;br&gt;spend my life without some people. Sometimes i feel i can&amp;#39;t resist.&lt;br&gt;But i daily feel that i can live like this. I&amp;#39;ll heal soon. Lets see&lt;br&gt;what happens. Personally i wish not to get indulged in such feelings&lt;br&gt;again. The reason is that they always end with pain and tears. I won&amp;#39;t&lt;br&gt;chose hell for me once again in front of my eyes!!&lt;br&gt;Some people are so strong or in other words they are very hard that&lt;br&gt;they don&amp;#39;t care what&amp;#39;s happening due to them. So i try not to feel in&lt;br&gt;my heart for such individuals who caused intense depression for me but&lt;br&gt;i can&amp;#39;t change myself so easily. It&amp;#39;ll take time. But obviously i&amp;#39;ll&lt;br&gt;be normal soon. Here i&amp;#39;ll quote these urdu lines:&lt;p&gt;kab koun kisi ka hota he,&lt;br&gt;sub jhoote rishte naate hen.&lt;p&gt;Sub dil rakhne ki baten hen,&lt;br&gt;sub asli roop chupate hen.&lt;p&gt;Insaaf se khaali log yahan nazron k teer chalate hen.&lt;p&gt;I know the lines aren&amp;#39;t out of world. Neither so hard to understand.&lt;br&gt;But no doubt very very true!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-5381714315934728080?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/5381714315934728080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/daily.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/5381714315934728080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/5381714315934728080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/daily.html' title='Daily'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-3557009428816985701</id><published>2009-10-20T22:38:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T22:38:23.730-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Morning!</title><content type='html'>Its a new day of my life. A new morning. A new sun and most obviously&lt;br&gt;newest as well as highest hopes!&lt;br&gt;My life isn&amp;#39;t that beautiful, amazing or colorful in these days but i&lt;br&gt;never lose hope and i never will.&lt;br&gt;Whenever i open my eyes at morning, there are few things that i must&lt;br&gt;think daily. Some considerations and hopes are a part of my life now&lt;br&gt;that i must take into account no matter whatever the issue is. For&lt;br&gt;example these days i think too much about a friend whom i can&amp;#39;t name&lt;br&gt;here. Secondly, i&amp;#39;m having big dreams to buy some dresses for sid&amp;#39;s&lt;br&gt;wedding. Thirdly, i&amp;#39;m planning much for seroo&amp;#39;s wedding. Her wedding&lt;br&gt;gift. The fun. Then comes the finances. These days i&amp;#39;m facing&lt;br&gt;financial crises! I remain so restless for my father. He&amp;#39;s the man for&lt;br&gt;whom i remain very very very sensitive. I&amp;#39;m so thankful to him. My all&lt;br&gt;happiness is linked with him. I wish i could honour him as i dream. He&lt;br&gt;deserves something extraordinary. I think about my mother. She&amp;#39;s a bit&lt;br&gt;ill. I think about my brother and always pray for him. I&amp;#39;m much&lt;br&gt;conscious for his near future. I hope my dreams related to him will&lt;br&gt;come true. I pray for my sister that she spends a happy marital life&lt;br&gt;and all the things for her wedding must happen as she wants.&lt;br&gt;To be true i wish nothing for me. I always pray Allah that i put all&lt;br&gt;my future and decisions upto you. I know Allah will make the things&lt;br&gt;happen in the best way for me.&lt;br&gt;Most of all, when i get up, i feel so hungry. I always sleep with the&lt;br&gt;hope and thoughts that i&amp;#39;ll wake up and eat something that i wish.&lt;br&gt;From all of my meals, breakfast is my favorite and attractive although&lt;br&gt;there&amp;#39;s no specific logic behind this but its a fact. When i open my&lt;br&gt;eyes, its one of the must thoughts to plan what breakfast i&amp;#39;ll be&lt;br&gt;having today. Or what to eat. I don&amp;#39;t like same breakfast always. I&lt;br&gt;love variations for it. And i like all types of things in my&lt;br&gt;breakfast. Some people say we like light others say we like heavy&lt;br&gt;breakfast. I like both. People make wishes for the lunch and dinner&lt;br&gt;that today i&amp;#39;ve a mood to eat this or to have these things to change&lt;br&gt;my taste! But i always demand for breakfast. Obviously sometimes i do&lt;br&gt;like changes in other foods and usually these are changed daily but&lt;br&gt;people normally eat same food in breakfast. Sometimes i wish to have&lt;br&gt;paratha or a yogurt but sometimes i want to eat only weetabix or&lt;br&gt;oatabix. And even cornflakes. Sometimes i demand halwa puri or i love&lt;br&gt;to eat a piece of break at times! I tell my mother to make choori for&lt;br&gt;me and sometimes i like eating bunny&amp;#39;s cake. Sometimes i eat chapati&lt;br&gt;with curry and at times i eat french toasts. The ingredients for my&lt;br&gt;egg are usually changed. I eat rice too! And all These variations in&lt;br&gt;wishes for breakfast are based on daily basis. Not after months.&lt;br&gt;Whenever i wish to go somewhere else for breakfast i convince my&lt;br&gt;friends to lets go and have a fun time and we really make it happen.&lt;br&gt;Well, i&amp;#39;m going to have a breakfast now :-) today i wish something&lt;br&gt;sweet with a cup of tea.&lt;br&gt;Actually i&amp;#39;m not one of those who are very very active. Although i&amp;#39;m&lt;br&gt;normal but my boom time comes after breakfast. So i need that now&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-3557009428816985701?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/3557009428816985701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/morning.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/3557009428816985701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/3557009428816985701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/morning.html' title='Morning!'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-7936331053509575761</id><published>2009-10-20T21:55:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T21:55:19.865-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Its a routine now</title><content type='html'>Everyone has different life pattern because Allah allots a separate&lt;br&gt;body to all the humans, so their lives are also varying. Same is with&lt;br&gt;me. Whenever i sit and think over something, i try to figure out that&lt;br&gt;why and how this is happening. Specially in these days and then i&lt;br&gt;always and always conclude only one thing that is: i had to spend such&lt;br&gt;a life. My life was meant to be like this. And so with the passage of&lt;br&gt;time, i&amp;#39;m becoming resistant to it. It means changes. I&amp;#39;m just&lt;br&gt;adopting indifferent behavior which is the worst state according to&lt;br&gt;ma&amp;#39;am Gul.&lt;br&gt;The change i&amp;#39;m refering here is basically losing!&lt;br&gt;Losing someone or something. Whenever such turn comes in my life, i&lt;br&gt;don&amp;#39;t behave as i should. My response is almost zero percent than my&lt;br&gt;past life.&lt;br&gt;I was one of those who didn&amp;#39;t like much changes in their daily routine&lt;br&gt;or life. I always used to over react on minor issues (so sleepy. Will&lt;br&gt;continue tomorrow)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-7936331053509575761?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/7936331053509575761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/its-routine-now.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/7936331053509575761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/7936331053509575761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/its-routine-now.html' title='Its a routine now'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-8845410334919457744</id><published>2009-10-18T13:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-18T13:15:55.849-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tumhen samaj kyun nahin aata??</title><content type='html'>I think much more than my past and i won&amp;#39;t say that i don&amp;#39;t know why!!&lt;br&gt;I know all the reasons. I know it whenever a change occurs in my life.&lt;br&gt;Even right from the beginning when the change is taking place. Whether&lt;br&gt;its somewhere around me or within me.&lt;br&gt;I am so much changed. Thats true. Everyone says that. And the reasons&lt;br&gt;are millions but most important of them are related to one person who&lt;br&gt;is too strong, indifferent to everything. At this time, it might be&lt;br&gt;good and very exciting but in long term, its not much fruitful. I&lt;br&gt;still pray for that person its not at all a favor. Reality is that i&lt;br&gt;wish happiness for you.&lt;br&gt;Now coming to my change, as i already accepted that i&amp;#39;m changed, i&lt;br&gt;personally i hate that. Its unwanted but i couldn&amp;#39;t overcome it.&lt;br&gt;Whenever i think about the person who&amp;#39;s responsible for it, i think&lt;br&gt;why you don&amp;#39;t understand it!! I have been hurt so many times so i am&lt;br&gt;changed in trying to cope with my unhappy, depressed and guilty&lt;br&gt;tensions. When something happens again and again and keeps occuring,&lt;br&gt;its a human nature to try to become resistant to that or become&lt;br&gt;stronger enough not to face it abnormally. I did the same. I am girl&lt;br&gt;with a heart that tries to have soft feelings for everyone but it has&lt;br&gt;to end one day when we&amp;#39;re hurt too much. When any of our friends&lt;br&gt;doesn&amp;#39;t care. But some people can never understand that. They&amp;#39;ve their&lt;br&gt;own stock of ideas and thoughts for measuring but truth is different.&lt;br&gt;They don&amp;#39;t try to understand it. They remain resistant and i always&lt;br&gt;think: tumhen samaj kyun nh aata k mera dil dukha he!! Tumhen khud hi&lt;br&gt;se is bat ki samaj kyun nahin hota k tum ne muje dukh da diya he, gham&lt;br&gt;khawar kar diya he, mera dil tor diya he muje kahani bana diya he . .&lt;br&gt;. (continued. . .)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-8845410334919457744?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/8845410334919457744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/tumhen-samaj-kyun-nahin-aata.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/8845410334919457744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/8845410334919457744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/tumhen-samaj-kyun-nahin-aata.html' title='Tumhen samaj kyun nahin aata??'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-6535249131274477658</id><published>2009-10-18T12:35:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-18T12:35:23.207-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My favorite stanza</title><content type='html'>Wo shakhs phela to meri zeest ka unwaan ban gaya,&lt;p&gt;or simta to mehaz ik naam me tabdeel ho gaya!!&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Poet: Anonymous&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-6535249131274477658?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/6535249131274477658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/my-favorite-stanza.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/6535249131274477658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/6535249131274477658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/my-favorite-stanza.html' title='My favorite stanza'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-6476952639069709684</id><published>2009-10-18T12:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-18T12:21:02.062-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love Note. . .</title><content type='html'>From the time each of my children started school, i packed their&lt;br /&gt;lunches. And in each lunch i packed, i included a note. Often written&lt;br /&gt;on a napkin, the note might be a thank you for a special moment, a&lt;br /&gt;reminder of something we were happily anticipating. Or a bit of&lt;br /&gt;encouragement for an upcoming test or sporting event.&lt;br /&gt;In early grade school they loved their notes. But as kids grow older&lt;br /&gt;they become more self conscious, and by the time he reached high&lt;br /&gt;school, my older son, Marc, informed me he no longer needed my daily&lt;br /&gt;missives. Informing him that they had been written as much for me as&lt;br /&gt;for him, and that he no longer needed to read them but i still needed&lt;br /&gt;to write them, i continued the tradition the day he graduated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Six years after high school graduation, marc called and asked if he&lt;br /&gt;could move home for a couple of months. He had spent those years well,&lt;br /&gt;graduating from college, completing two congressional internships and&lt;br /&gt;finally, becoming a legislative assistant with his younger sister&lt;br /&gt;leaving for college, i was especially thrilled to have him coming&lt;br /&gt;home.&lt;br /&gt;A couple weeks after Marc arrived home he was back at work. Since i&lt;br /&gt;was still making lunch everyday for his younger brother, i packed one&lt;br /&gt;for marc, too. Imagine my surprise when i got a call from my 24 years&lt;br /&gt;old son, complaining about his lunch.&lt;br /&gt;"Did i do something wrong?&lt;br /&gt;Aren't i still your kid? Don't you love me any more, Mom?" were just a&lt;br /&gt;few of the queries he threw at me as i laughingly asked him what was&lt;br /&gt;wrong.&lt;br /&gt;My note, mom he answered&lt;br /&gt;where's my note?&lt;br /&gt;From a little spoon full of chicken soup for the mother's soul.&lt;br /&gt;Antoinette kuritz&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-6476952639069709684?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/6476952639069709684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/love-note_18.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/6476952639069709684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/6476952639069709684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/love-note_18.html' title='Love Note. . .'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-2881027860612894876</id><published>2009-10-18T11:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-18T11:01:03.346-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Follow Me!</title><content type='html'>Take my hand and follow me&lt;br&gt;to the place i long to be.&lt;br&gt;Take my hand and trust my way,&lt;br&gt;in that place forever stay.&lt;br&gt;Follow me toward the sand;&lt;br&gt;we&amp;#39;ll run and play, hand in hand.&lt;br&gt;Take my heart and hold it true;&lt;br&gt;forever i&amp;#39;ll stay close to you.&lt;br&gt;Seize my words and listen well,&lt;br&gt;then forever i will tell.&lt;br&gt;Release your heart and feelings too,&lt;br&gt;just as i will do for you.&lt;br&gt;Trust your heard and follow me,&lt;br&gt;to that place we long to be.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;By Michelle Newton&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-2881027860612894876?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/2881027860612894876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/follow-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/2881027860612894876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/2881027860612894876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/follow-me.html' title='Follow Me!'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-7700515850230931137</id><published>2009-10-17T06:47:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-17T06:47:59.293-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Holy book of Allah</title><content type='html'>The Holy book of Allah, the Quran, is not the work of a man, nor is it&lt;br&gt;the collected thoughts or opinions of wise men through the ages. It is&lt;br&gt;the &amp;quot;word&amp;quot; of the Almighty God (Allah), The Creator, and the Lord of&lt;br&gt;the universe. It is the perfect revelation to mankind. Though called&lt;br&gt;and treated as a book, the Quran is not a book in the ordinary sense&lt;br&gt;of the word. It is neither a treatise nor a dissertation on a&lt;br&gt;particular theme; nor it is a book on religion.&lt;p&gt;Experts of the Arabic language continue to marvel at the beautiful&lt;br&gt;prose in which Quran is worded. But it is not merely a literary&lt;br&gt;masterpiece. The Quran contains scientific facts and explanations that&lt;br&gt;fascinate scientific of all fields. Yet it is not an encyclopedia of&lt;br&gt;science. The Quran mentions stories of people and places in the past&lt;br&gt;with vivid detail. And yet it is not also merely a book of history.&lt;br&gt;The subject matter of Quran is &amp;quot;man&amp;quot; (human beings) and it discusses&lt;br&gt;those aspects of his life which lead to his REAL success or failure.&lt;br&gt;The central theme that runs through the Quran is the exposition of&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;Reality&amp;quot; with the aim of inviting human beings to the &amp;quot;Right Path&amp;quot;.&lt;p&gt;Its purpose is not simply to inform or to convince but to mould and&lt;br&gt;transform. As such, it tries simultaneously to inform, to persuade, to&lt;br&gt;convince, to motive and to mobilize men and woman to fulfill their&lt;br&gt;mission in life.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;By: Naeemullah&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-7700515850230931137?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/7700515850230931137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/holy-book-of-allah.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/7700515850230931137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/7700515850230931137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/holy-book-of-allah.html' title='Holy book of Allah'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-7311531428639330287</id><published>2009-10-17T05:26:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-17T05:26:20.045-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Diana, Princess of Wales (1961-1997)</title><content type='html'>English Princess, Former Wife of Charles Prince of Wales.&lt;p&gt;Born in Norfolk, England. Her father, Lose Althorp, became the eighth&lt;br&gt;Dark Spencer in 1975; he had served as a personal equerry to both King&lt;br&gt;George VI &amp;amp; Queen Elizabeth II. Lady Diana Spencer grew up on her&lt;br&gt;family&amp;#39;s estate in Sandringham, England. When she was only six years&lt;br&gt;old, her mother, Frances, left her father for Peter Shand Kydd, a&lt;br&gt;wealthy businessman. Though her two sisters, Sarah and Jane, were by&lt;br&gt;then in boarding. School, Diana and her younger brother Charles&lt;br&gt;unhappily divided their time during the next several years between&lt;br&gt;their parents&amp;#39; homes. Diana attended the exclusive West Heath boarding&lt;br&gt;school in Kent for four years, but dropped out when she was 16. After&lt;br&gt;a term at a Swiss finishing school, she ended her formal education and&lt;br&gt;got a job in London working as a nursery school teacher&amp;#39;s aide. Though&lt;br&gt;she had known the Prince of Wales, heir to the throne of the United&lt;br&gt;Kingdom, for most of her life (his younger brother Andrew had been her&lt;br&gt;childhood playmate and Charles had dated her older sister, Sarah),&lt;br&gt;their relationship began to intensity during a visit with her sister&lt;br&gt;Jane.&lt;br&gt;In february 1981, Prince Charles proposed Diana.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-7311531428639330287?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/7311531428639330287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/diana-princess-of-wales-1961-1997.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/7311531428639330287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/7311531428639330287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/diana-princess-of-wales-1961-1997.html' title='Diana, Princess of Wales (1961-1997)'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-3427029165562012478</id><published>2009-10-17T05:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-17T05:08:02.363-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Poetry</title><content type='html'>Silsilay torr gaya wo sabhi jatay jatay. . .&lt;br&gt;Warna itne to marasim the k aatay jatay.&lt;br&gt;Shikwa-e-zulmat-e-shab se to kaheen behtar tha. . .&lt;br&gt;Apnay hissay ki koi shama jalatay jatay.&lt;br&gt;Kitna asaan tha tere hijar me marna jaana. . .&lt;br&gt;Phir bi ik umar lagi jan se jatay jatay.&lt;br&gt;Jashan mutkil hi na barpa hua warna ham bi. . .&lt;br&gt;Pabajolaan hi sahi nachte gaate jatay.&lt;br&gt;Us ki wo janay usay paas-e-wafa tha k na tha. . .&lt;br&gt;Tum faraz apni taraf se to nibhaate jatay!!&lt;p&gt;(Ahmad faraz: 1931-2008. The most famous poet after faiz ahmed faiz)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-3427029165562012478?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/3427029165562012478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/poetry.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/3427029165562012478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/3427029165562012478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/poetry.html' title='Poetry'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-9113970347915074441</id><published>2009-10-16T12:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-16T12:42:32.750-07:00</updated><title type='text'>N. I. S. A. A. R</title><content type='html'>Everyone reminds his/her childhood because it has the memories&lt;br&gt;associated with it. Its considered as the age of carelessness when&lt;br&gt;kids have no big sorrows, secrets or worries. Same is with me. I had&lt;br&gt;interesting childhood. Those memories are unshakable. But there really&lt;br&gt;are some bad incidents linked with my early age.&lt;br&gt;We all the kids of that street used to play together. We always spent&lt;br&gt;our time together atleast once in a day although our schools, parents&lt;br&gt;and even sometimes languages were different. The most played game was&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;daadi amman, daadi amman, chupan chupai (hide &amp;amp; seek), dark room,&lt;br&gt;kokla chapaaki, tip top, ankha macholi and barf pani. I remember other&lt;br&gt;names but those weren&amp;#39;t played routine wise.&lt;br&gt;There were two houses in front of our home in street 5 of a very&lt;br&gt;famous road in the city. Light used to turn out because of daily load&lt;br&gt;shedding. And that was the time for all of us to play our games. We&lt;br&gt;were atleast 12 children. I remember i always had problem while&lt;br&gt;running east due to my weight.&lt;br&gt;It was a trend at that time that the caretaker or the keeper used to&lt;br&gt;roam in streets all the night to guard the houses from theft and other&lt;br&gt;such problems. He had a whistle with him. And i always was so&lt;br&gt;attracted towards that. It was one of my biggest wishes to SEE and&lt;br&gt;TOUCH that heavenly whistle!! The reason is that the whistles&lt;br&gt;available at my school weren&amp;#39;t that efficient. Its sound was very&lt;br&gt;high. And fortunately one day my wish was fulfilled. I really ACTUALLY&lt;br&gt;touched it. Millions of Thanks to hassan bhai who offered dinner to&lt;br&gt;that man and he stopped there for some time. I Saw it. It was exactly&lt;br&gt;upto my expectations. Nicely sharped, silver in color. I really liked&lt;br&gt;that but in trying it blow it, i realized that its the same like mine.&lt;br&gt;The difference lies in our own strength that how we blow it!!&lt;br&gt;That man was something extraordinary for me. In my thoughts, he was&lt;br&gt;not a normal human being. Must be a heavenly creature because he used&lt;br&gt;to guard all alone throughout the nights on his bicycle for just a&lt;br&gt;small amount of money. No matter it was summer or chilly cold winter.&lt;p&gt;Once it happened a very big thing. We all were playing. The axe was&lt;br&gt;there. somewhere near us. Although i&amp;#39;m much scared from all types of&lt;br&gt;weapons, but truth is that i was strongly attracted towards that. Some&lt;br&gt;other kids too. I went and took it. Its weight was much more than my&lt;br&gt;assumed one. We all kids were standing in a group. There was so much&lt;br&gt;hustle bustle. The area was filled with us. There were no parents. The&lt;br&gt;eldest one was two year elder than me. We all weren&amp;#39;t mature enough.&lt;br&gt;Many other kids tried to grab that axe from me by force and in the&lt;br&gt;meanwhile, it fell from my hands!!!&lt;br&gt;The falling of the axe wasn&amp;#39;t a surprise or a news but it fell on&lt;br&gt;sid&amp;#39;s arm making a deep cut was shocking for all of us. I held my&lt;br&gt;breaths. I really was motionless. I remember it exactly that i really&lt;br&gt;trembled with so much fear. I couldn&amp;#39;t see the blood. It was bleeding&lt;br&gt;too fast.&lt;br&gt;I don&amp;#39;t know who shouted that she has got a cut in her arm but she was&lt;br&gt;taken to the house of our neighbours. The reason was that someone&lt;br&gt;hurried towards that aunty and disclosed the news and she took her&lt;br&gt;inside. Sprinkled some powder on it. I ran too. I was crying just as&lt;br&gt;sid was crying. The news spreaded very fast. The elders from our home&lt;br&gt;reached there too.&lt;br&gt;I was shockingly more surprised to realize that everyone was blaming&lt;br&gt;someone else for the deed. And it was A. N. S. A. A. R. (ansaar). I&lt;br&gt;glanced at him. It was more shocking to know that he was admitting his&lt;br&gt;mistake!! Then i realized the fact that he&amp;#39;s doing me a favor. His&lt;br&gt;mother was constantly telling no no ansar didn&amp;#39;t do it. I remember she&lt;br&gt;was staring me again and again. But due to the reason that no one&lt;br&gt;actually knew what has happened, she couldn&amp;#39;t convince everyone.&lt;br&gt;I remember the boy Ansaar. He was reading in some religious institute&lt;br&gt;to become haafiz-e-Quran. He used to always wear a cap. His sacrifice&lt;br&gt;was too much for me.&lt;br&gt;Sid was taken to the doctor and she healed soon although she still has&lt;br&gt;that mark on her arm.&lt;p&gt;I can never forget him. When i asked, he said never tell anyone that&lt;br&gt;it was slipped from your hands. And its only the first time today that&lt;br&gt;i&amp;#39;ve explained it openly. Otherwise only me and nisaar knew that. And&lt;br&gt;i still wish today that no one knows this true. . . .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-9113970347915074441?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/9113970347915074441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/n-i-s-a-r.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/9113970347915074441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/9113970347915074441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/n-i-s-a-r.html' title='N. I. S. A. A. R'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-2841292710643175169</id><published>2009-10-15T10:09:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-16T04:35:32.683-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wakt guzar jaata he. . .</title><content type='html'>Rabia is my roommate. She often uses interesting examples to explain&lt;br /&gt;different ideas. She's very good in arguing. I really like this habit&lt;br /&gt;of her. Sometimes her words are strongly stuck in my brain. They get&lt;br /&gt;embedded in my memory for ever one of them is: "waqt guzar jaata he,&lt;br /&gt;baaten khari rehti hen"&lt;br /&gt;Whenever i get hurt by someone, i think for hours on that issue. And&lt;br /&gt;the extent to which i'm hurt is not always the same. It depends.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes i ignore very big issues and sometimes i get badly hurt on&lt;br /&gt;something non-serious and very ignorable issue. The most striking&lt;br /&gt;thing is the words. Actions come after words. In our daily life, the&lt;br /&gt;words uttered by the people around us are very important.&lt;br /&gt;Giving a smile, using good words, caring for the feelings of others&lt;br /&gt;are the very sensitive issues. So we all should keep this line all the&lt;br /&gt;time in our mind k "waqt guzar jata he, baaten kari rehti hen" i.e.&lt;br /&gt;The time moves but the words remain there. Although both cannot be&lt;br /&gt;brought back. The word once its uttered or the time once it has&lt;br /&gt;passed. Its true that we can forget the situations but the strong&lt;br /&gt;words used by someone always remain there. Everytime we remind them,&lt;br /&gt;we get happy or hurt like first time!!&lt;br /&gt;Its very important to keep our words under control that very difficult&lt;br /&gt;for a person like me but these days i'm trying my best to keep a&lt;br /&gt;strong check on whatever i say. . .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-2841292710643175169?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/2841292710643175169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/wakt-guzar-he.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/2841292710643175169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/2841292710643175169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/wakt-guzar-he.html' title='Wakt guzar jaata he. . .'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-4122523483576382226</id><published>2009-10-14T12:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T01:04:35.093-07:00</updated><title type='text'>_______________</title><content type='html'>When its all black,&lt;br&gt;When there&amp;#39;s no light.&lt;p&gt;When there&amp;#39;s no hope,&lt;br&gt;When the doors are closed.&lt;p&gt;When the windows are shut,&lt;br&gt;When the roads end.&lt;p&gt;When its all desert,&lt;br&gt;When everything&amp;#39;s dry.&lt;p&gt;When the leaves are yellow,&lt;br&gt;When the land is barren.&lt;p&gt;When the movements stop,&lt;br&gt;When the life ends.&lt;p&gt;When the thoughts are stuck,&lt;br&gt;When the feelings are cold.&lt;p&gt;When the birds are silent,&lt;br&gt;When the sounds are over.&lt;p&gt;When the streets are empty,&lt;br&gt;When the body is frozen.&lt;p&gt;When the words are ended,&lt;br&gt;When the eyes are closed.&lt;p&gt;When the lungs are paralyzed,&lt;br&gt;When the breaths are held.&lt;p&gt;When the air is still,&lt;br&gt;When the temperature is absent.&lt;p&gt;When the things are vanished,&lt;br&gt;When the colors are evaporated.&lt;p&gt;When the wires are melted,&lt;br&gt;When the buildings are collapsed.&lt;p&gt;When earth is burnt,&lt;br&gt;When the rhythm is silent. &lt;br&gt;When the sun becomes cold,&lt;br&gt;When the moon comes down.&lt;p&gt;When the lakes are empty,&lt;br&gt;When the mountains are straight.&lt;p&gt;When there&amp;#39;s no one,&lt;br&gt;When i&amp;#39;m all alone. . . .&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;I Keep Thinking About you. . . .&lt;br&gt;And i really miss you!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-4122523483576382226?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/4122523483576382226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/blog-post_14.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/4122523483576382226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/4122523483576382226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/blog-post_14.html' title='_______________'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-4889295480051321805</id><published>2009-10-14T11:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-14T12:20:54.072-07:00</updated><title type='text'>For someone</title><content type='html'>Its a human nature to become possessive for whatever we keep or&lt;br&gt;anything we have and i&amp;#39;m a normal human being. I&amp;#39;m possessive for my&lt;br&gt;EVERYTHING. Unfortunately i&amp;#39;m not one of those genius minds who say we&lt;br&gt;just don&amp;#39;t care!!!&lt;br&gt;If i&amp;#39;m possessive for all non-living stuff that belongs to me, how&amp;#39;s&lt;br&gt;it possible that i don&amp;#39;t care for the living things around me??&lt;br&gt;To be true, i am very possessive for all my relations. Specially my&lt;br&gt;parents, family and friends. The word FRIEND has a very broad&lt;br&gt;spectrum. Friends are of many types. Some are common friends. Some are&lt;br&gt;best friends and there are some friends for whom you&amp;#39;ve no words to&lt;br&gt;describe your feelings. So obviously the level of care is accordingly.&lt;br&gt;It depends on what type of friend he/she is!!&lt;br&gt;I believe that we lose someone or something when we HAVE that i.e. If&lt;br&gt;we&amp;#39;ve nothing, how can we lose something!!&lt;br&gt;Same is the case with our friends. Its not necessary that if i&lt;br&gt;consider that i&amp;#39;m someone&amp;#39;s friend, the next person has the same thing&lt;br&gt;in his mind. And when it comes to losing, only those lose who have&lt;br&gt;friends. Fortunately or unfortunately, i had no friends.&lt;br&gt;Some people (whom i consider my friends) are away from my life. Its a&lt;br&gt;natural phenomenon to try to comfort and console ourselves with&lt;br&gt;different logics. Today i tried to make me happy. I was so confused.&lt;br&gt;Tried many lame excuses and at the end, i got a point i.e. I lost&lt;br&gt;nothing because i never had that friend. Never had you so how can i&lt;br&gt;lose. You never were mine so i didn&amp;#39;t lose you BUT you&amp;#39;ve lost me. . .&lt;br&gt;. I was yours so you lost a thing that you had!!&lt;br&gt;What&amp;#39;ve i lost?? Nothing. . . . . . :-|&lt;br&gt;(Jo cheez meri thi hi nahin, me usay kho kese sakti hun. Abi to mene paaya hi nh jo me kho deti usko. Is liye mene kuch nh khoya)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-4889295480051321805?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/4889295480051321805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/for-someone.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/4889295480051321805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/4889295480051321805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/for-someone.html' title='For someone'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-7634532753950147093</id><published>2009-10-13T10:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T10:15:08.157-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Allah knows who left the marks. . .</title><content type='html'>Whenever i go to my bed at night to sleep, i'm always filled with million of thoughts. My thoughts aren't creative or some special type. I just miss some people whom i've lost. Or i miss somethings that happened in my past. The things that've affected my life. My faith, my trust is shaken. When someone's recently hurt, he's more sensitive towards everything. And when one hurts you again and again, the wounds never heal.&lt;br /&gt;For a full person like me, its very difficult to forget two extremes. The one who hurts you so much and the one who helps so much. Because these two things leave a mark. A dark mark everywhere. On your life, heart, mind, feelings etc etc. These days i'm hurt too. Actually i am marked. I've got a wound that (at this time i think) would never heal. I'm hurt again and again by the same person on the same issue so it has become an old wound now. That never heals and keeps giving you pain time by time. &lt;br /&gt;My friend told me that i've left a mark. But i believe it firmly that its only Allah subhan-o-Taala who's aware of every reality. Specially for the invisible things i.e. Who is having the mark and who has left the mark. Who's suffering and who's enjoying. . . &lt;br /&gt;Heart isn't a room to accomodate people in it time by time. When it gets hurt it knows never to trust someone again. Trust and blind faith take you to end of sorrows&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-7634532753950147093?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/7634532753950147093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/allah-knows-who-left-marks.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/7634532753950147093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/7634532753950147093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/allah-knows-who-left-marks.html' title='Allah knows who left the marks. . .'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-2935715457798312586</id><published>2009-10-13T07:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T07:39:20.103-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Concentration</title><content type='html'>Concentration is the most important factor in our life. Success in all&lt;br&gt;fields requires concentration.&lt;br&gt;Usually it happens that we remember all the things while we&amp;#39;re&lt;br&gt;praying. Its due to the diversion of attention. Although &amp;quot;NAMAZ&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;requirers our attention. We don&amp;#39;t keep it in our minds WHAT WE ARE&lt;br&gt;DOING, IN FRONT OF WHOM!! We&amp;#39;re more conscious while meeting our Vice&lt;br&gt;Chancellors or any elite person. So we need to keep it in our minds&lt;br&gt;that We&amp;#39;re Praying in Front of Allah. We&amp;#39;re standing in front of the&lt;br&gt;creator of this universe.&lt;br&gt;As we learn &amp;#39;namaz burai or behayai se rokti he&amp;#39; i.e. Prayers keep us&lt;br&gt;away from evil, Sins and bad intentions. But that prayer is fruitless&lt;br&gt;if it does stop us from all this.&lt;br&gt;Muslims aren&amp;#39;t allowed to delay the prayers without any specific&lt;br&gt;reason. One can only delay it when he&amp;#39;s out of his senses. As for&lt;br&gt;example fasting. The Kaza of one farz Roza can never weigh that much&lt;br&gt;no matter if you keep fasting throughout your life. So whatever we&amp;#39;re&lt;br&gt;doing, we need to be utmost serious for that. Otherwise its useless.&lt;br&gt;Specially prayers&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-2935715457798312586?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/2935715457798312586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/concentration.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/2935715457798312586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/2935715457798312586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/concentration.html' title='Concentration'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-4807550047648087587</id><published>2009-10-13T03:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T03:11:45.989-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Assumptions</title><content type='html'>&amp;quot;Assumptions are the termites of a relationship&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;i read this line somewhere. And this line is embedded in my mind from&lt;br&gt;that day as if someone inserted a &amp;#39;nail&amp;#39; in the wall with the help of&lt;br&gt;a &amp;#39;hammer&amp;#39;.&lt;br&gt;Its a human nature that people (atleast like me) start expecting so&lt;br&gt;much when they once have initialize a relationship. And with the&lt;br&gt;passage of time, they get more and more indulged in those feelings.&lt;br&gt;ITS WRONG.&lt;br&gt;One should always keep all the conditions in mind. Otherwise the life&lt;br&gt;gets destroyed. Assuming the future reactions of the others is very&lt;br&gt;wrong. And this wall doesn&amp;#39;t take much time while collapsing.&lt;br&gt;Being practical, everyone should only believe and think whatever the&lt;br&gt;other one is actually showing you. In real. This is the time where no&lt;br&gt;one should be considered innocent or even that he/she is a good person&lt;br&gt;or can react sweetly. How&amp;#39;s it possible. No one is shy. No one tries&lt;br&gt;to hide their feelings. Everyone is rude and selfish. How can someone&lt;br&gt;tell you bad about him/her self??&lt;br&gt;They make you feel good. Show only one side of their personalities. In&lt;br&gt;other words everyone is dodging the next person e.g. If someone&lt;br&gt;doesn&amp;#39;t tell you that he&amp;#39;ll be the same in the future, how is it&lt;br&gt;possible that he remains that same man. It means he&amp;#39;ll change. If&lt;br&gt;someone isn&amp;#39;t assuring you to try to understand or obey you as being a&lt;br&gt;friend to overcome your fears or to strengthen the relationship, how&lt;br&gt;can he be expected to do so??&lt;br&gt;Its not sure that if you&amp;#39;ve limited you world to someone, his&lt;br&gt;happiness lies in you too. Or even that he cares for your feelings.&lt;br&gt;Everyone loves to see you cry. All the time in his pain. They get&lt;br&gt;happy and remain indifferent to your pains but we keep burning&lt;br&gt;ourselves.&lt;br&gt;So these assumptions lead you to death. Here the death doesn&amp;#39;t refer&lt;br&gt;to the end of life but the feelings and emotions really die.&lt;br&gt;Expectations eat you. Make you hollow. So i always keep this line in&lt;br&gt;mind that the &amp;#39;assumptions are the termites of a relationship&amp;#39;. So we&lt;br&gt;must avoid assuming things on our own. Specially where there&amp;#39;s a&lt;br&gt;matter of trust!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-4807550047648087587?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/4807550047648087587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/assumptions_13.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/4807550047648087587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/4807550047648087587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/assumptions_13.html' title='Assumptions'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-498049353091937637</id><published>2009-10-13T02:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T02:46:13.038-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Me &amp; My Self!</title><content type='html'>Today while i think on my life and My past experiences, i feel that it&lt;br&gt;is me who is responsible for everything. Once you yourself aren&amp;#39;t&lt;br&gt;mature or serious for you, how can others let you live your life&lt;br&gt;peacefully. Carelessness destroys ones world. The world helps alot in&lt;br&gt;destroying your life. They ruin us. As it happened in my case. And&lt;br&gt;then we sit alone. Thinking about our past. Blaming others for our&lt;br&gt;current position. But i consider me the responsible of my destruction.&lt;br&gt;I conclude the I Misguided Myself!!&lt;br&gt;And today, i wanna get rid of myself. I&amp;#39;m my own Murderer. I killed&lt;br&gt;Me. I wish to be another person now. I want to completely change my&lt;br&gt;personality. But Natures Are Never Changed&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-498049353091937637?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/498049353091937637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/me-my-self.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/498049353091937637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/498049353091937637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/me-my-self.html' title='Me &amp; My Self!'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-8068908836425964289</id><published>2009-10-12T13:47:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-14T02:44:09.092-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My nick names</title><content type='html'>Tayyab (pupho &amp;amp; ami)&lt;br /&gt;Bhaaloo (q)&lt;br /&gt;CHERRY (cpt)&lt;br /&gt;Dabba Peer (hassan bhai)&lt;br /&gt;Inzamam-ul-Haq (friends)&lt;br /&gt;Glitterati&lt;br /&gt;Beebo (ami)&lt;br /&gt;Teeba (rabia)&lt;br /&gt;Abida Parveen (shahbaz bhai, ami, many others)&lt;br /&gt;Moti&lt;br /&gt;Taj (hafza)&lt;br /&gt;Tayu (hafsa)&lt;br /&gt;Beeba (ami)&lt;br /&gt;Tweety (hajra sameen)&lt;br /&gt;Miss Joyia (Sir agha asif)&lt;br /&gt;Tullo (most family members &amp;amp; friends)&lt;br /&gt;Aabo (ami)&lt;br /&gt;Saalaan (many)&lt;br /&gt;Punjaaban (asad bhai)&lt;br /&gt;Tabs (fatima baji)&lt;br /&gt;T-jay&lt;br /&gt;Soniya (hajra)&lt;br /&gt;Tabby baby (zainab baji)&lt;br /&gt;Princess&lt;br /&gt;Jadugarni&lt;br /&gt;Tubbo (ami)&lt;br /&gt;Chooza (abu)&lt;br /&gt;Double roti (q)&lt;br /&gt;Thalo-maharani (q)&lt;br /&gt;Dont touch me (honey)&lt;br /&gt;Pathaano (maami, amaan dolat)&lt;br /&gt;Chanda (mami)&lt;br /&gt;Moto (sir masood)&lt;br /&gt;Gulli (sadaad)&lt;br /&gt;Gaind (sadaad)&lt;br /&gt;Masooma (mrs. Niaz)&lt;br /&gt;Guglo (aksa)&lt;br /&gt;Motu (q)&lt;br /&gt;Paide (abu)&lt;br /&gt;Puppo (sid)&lt;br /&gt;Maango (abu)&lt;br /&gt;Moto-naama (sadaad)&lt;br /&gt;Icecream (q)&lt;br /&gt;Poppee (sadaad)&lt;br /&gt;Kattee (abu)&lt;br /&gt;Guddo (most family members)&lt;br /&gt;Baajo (sid)&lt;br /&gt;Apaan g (sid)&lt;br /&gt;Wadda munh (hassan bhai)&lt;br /&gt;Mithee&lt;br /&gt;Peer-Saab (hassan bhai)&lt;br /&gt;Kacholi&lt;br /&gt;Gaindo (hassan bhai &amp;amp; hajra)&lt;br /&gt;Maano Billi (q)&lt;br /&gt;Katti (abu)&lt;br /&gt;Taiban-Maanga(chacha ghafoor)&lt;br /&gt;tajba (amaan syed)&lt;br /&gt;taeba (mhd ali, sakhi)&lt;br /&gt;Bagar billa (pupho)&lt;br /&gt;Ustaani (abu)&lt;br /&gt;Raani (abu)&lt;br /&gt;Arooj (irum)&lt;br /&gt;Beto (ami)&lt;br /&gt;Teddy Bear (saadzia)&lt;br /&gt;Azeem Hasti&lt;br /&gt;Broiler (mamoon saif)&lt;br /&gt;Girlfriend (qasim bhai)&lt;br /&gt;Shopaholic&lt;br /&gt;Guriya, Waddi &amp;amp; Bitiya, Bacha, Kachaalu, Roto, Laali, sweety are all the nick names that i remember were allotted to me by people around me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-8068908836425964289?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/8068908836425964289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/my-nick-names_12.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/8068908836425964289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/8068908836425964289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/my-nick-names_12.html' title='My nick names'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-729006389796967230</id><published>2009-10-12T08:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-16T04:51:39.773-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='conception'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='taqdeer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='destiny'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muulak'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mutlaq'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='absolute'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='isolated'/><title type='text'>Taqdeer; The Destiny</title><content type='html'>In our daily life, we blame our destiny for our so many deeds or for&lt;br /&gt;the results of our deeds i.e. It was written in our fate. But thats&lt;br /&gt;not the fact.&lt;br /&gt;Actually the situations and conditions are created by Allah. Men have&lt;br /&gt;no control over them but our action, response or behavior to that&lt;br /&gt;situation completely depends on us e.g. Your car hits someone&lt;br /&gt;unintentionally. That might be fate but i you don't visit and bother&lt;br /&gt;to show some affection to that person, it wasn't written in fate.&lt;br /&gt;The destiny has two parts:&lt;br /&gt;1. Absolute Destiny.&lt;br /&gt;2. Isolated Destiny. &lt;p&gt;Absolute destiny has no link with human deeds. A person cannot change&lt;br /&gt;it. Its already written e.g. The day of Judgement. We all know it has&lt;br /&gt;to come. And we cannot overcome or resist that. Secondly, the prophet&lt;br /&gt;(P.B.U.H) is the last prophet. We cant change that as well. These&lt;br /&gt;things were decided by Allah.&lt;br /&gt;The isolated destiny on the other hand is totally dependant on our own&lt;br /&gt;selves e.g. Paying Zakat. Its our duty. If we'll keep giving zakat,&lt;br /&gt;we'll remain away from many problems and bad intensions. Allah has&lt;br /&gt;given us the directions to chose our ways while making decisions. So&lt;br /&gt;it fully depends on what we do.&lt;br /&gt;If a man goes to live somewhere with unhealthy or dangerous conditions&lt;br /&gt;considering that death is written. Thats wrong. Death depends on&lt;br /&gt;isolated destiny. Although it is written that we've to die. So thats&lt;br /&gt;totally a wrong perception. Its the reason we migrate from one area to&lt;br /&gt;the other. We protect ourselves.&lt;br /&gt;Another example is that if we consider that whatever we've to eat or&lt;br /&gt;drink is written and we'll get that in any condition. No matter what&lt;br /&gt;we do. Thats wrong. If someone is thirsty but he/she doesn't go to&lt;br /&gt;drink water that if its written, i'll get that here thats wrong&lt;br /&gt;perception.&lt;br /&gt;So its our responsibility to keep our care both physically and&lt;br /&gt;mentally. Work hard for better lifestyle.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-729006389796967230?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/729006389796967230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/taqdeer-destiny.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/729006389796967230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/729006389796967230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/taqdeer-destiny.html' title='Taqdeer; The Destiny'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-8455807442944616405</id><published>2009-10-12T05:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-16T04:50:08.641-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beautiful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sweet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='emotions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='night'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='feelings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='prince'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='time'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='joyia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dream'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tayyaba'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nice'/><title type='text'>Dream</title><content type='html'>Once i had a dream: once in my life,i slept a long sleep.it made me&lt;br /&gt;dream the most beautiful dream of my life.i can never imagine&lt;br /&gt;something better than that.my all emotions, dreams, sorrows, tears,&lt;br /&gt;smiles are linked to that.but when i woke up,it all was just a&lt;br /&gt;fantasy.i realised these were only the assumptions having no&lt;br /&gt;reality.it turned me sad.but i tried to control myself as much as i&lt;br /&gt;could.my tears were unlimited.my breaths were out of order.my whole&lt;br /&gt;body was just cold.very very cold.there was also a prince in that&lt;br /&gt;dream.whose nick i decided after deep thinking.i decided a nick that&lt;br /&gt;could depict my love for him.the prince was not very handsome but i&lt;br /&gt;started loving him.the prince knew everything.all those things that i&lt;br /&gt;never knew.BUT unfortunately, he showed me only a single side of his&lt;br /&gt;personality.i was busy in my own excitements.i never thought prince&lt;br /&gt;can do so.when i knew it,i trembled.my each and every vein was&lt;br /&gt;disturbed.i had no place to go with that broken heart.sometimes i feel....&lt;br /&gt;..... to be continued&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-8455807442944616405?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/8455807442944616405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/dream.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/8455807442944616405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/8455807442944616405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/dream.html' title='Dream'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-8233143607331866436</id><published>2009-10-08T05:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-16T04:45:45.423-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='destiny'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='success'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fate'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ways'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hardwork'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='future'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='brain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='elements'/><title type='text'>Success</title><content type='html'>I'm not that mature to conclude something. But i've concluded that&lt;br /&gt;there are three paths or directions that can lead an individual&lt;br /&gt;towards success.&lt;br /&gt;The first and the most important one is &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Brain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; i.e. Intelligence. I&lt;br /&gt;strongly believe that if someone is intelligent/clever, no one can&lt;br /&gt;hinder them from reaching the peaks of success. For example some&lt;br /&gt;students do not work hard. They read something and can write about it&lt;br /&gt;next time. They don't pay much attention to their studies. Brain, i&lt;br /&gt;believe is God gifted. Everyone isn't intelligent. All people cannot&lt;br /&gt;understand whatever is happening around them. Very few human beings&lt;br /&gt;can have such an eye to see the world accurately as well as making the&lt;br /&gt;things happen in their favor. Only some wise men can do so. Brain can&lt;br /&gt;lead to all the success and one can win the world only through it.&lt;br /&gt;Second things is the &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;hardwork&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. Not only brain, the passion to do&lt;br /&gt;something matters alot in someone's success. Sometimes one keeps&lt;br /&gt;thinking good and does nothing while at the same time, others move&lt;br /&gt;further. Many steps forward only because they think less and do more.&lt;br /&gt;I like such individuals. They know how to convert the plans into&lt;br /&gt;reality. Hardwork is basis of everything and everyone knows that. I&lt;br /&gt;myself have seen the people who are spending luxurious lives only&lt;br /&gt;because they worked hard. They never refused to do any thing. They are&lt;br /&gt;addicted to work and never get tired e.g. The farmers. They don't need&lt;br /&gt;to be much intelligent. They have to work hard on their fields and&lt;br /&gt;remain successful in their lives. Allah has kept much reward for such&lt;br /&gt;people.&lt;br /&gt;The third and the last thing that i believe can lead someone to&lt;br /&gt;success is &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;fate&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. There are examples where the person doesn't do any&lt;br /&gt;hardwork nor they have clever minds but they spend better life than&lt;br /&gt;many others. That is called fate. I know some students who aren't book&lt;br /&gt;worms nor they're genius. They don't have high aims but they keep&lt;br /&gt;passing every year. This happens due to fate&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-8233143607331866436?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/8233143607331866436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/success.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/8233143607331866436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/8233143607331866436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/success.html' title='Success'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-1585908905027513412</id><published>2009-10-07T12:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-16T04:40:11.782-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='confusion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='why'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughtful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='alone'/><title type='text'>Why</title><content type='html'>I'm in my bed. Lights are turned off. I'm constantly thinking as well&lt;br /&gt;as planning somethings in my mind. Sometimes when i observe the things&lt;br /&gt;around me, i really wonder. Its really hard to digest somethings. What&lt;br /&gt;life was and what it is!&lt;br /&gt;To be true, these days i'm not much happy with my life or the&lt;br /&gt;happenings around me. May be the reason is that life is becoming&lt;br /&gt;serious. I'm turning mature. So i'm trying to digest everything with&lt;br /&gt;smiles all the time. I've stopped telling others about my worries. My&lt;br /&gt;sharing is 1% as compared to my past. I really scared. Once i used to&lt;br /&gt;share each and every aspect of my life with a friend but since i've&lt;br /&gt;lost that, i don't like disclosing the things to everyone.&lt;br /&gt;I've a point of view that when we keep someone very special. Up above&lt;br /&gt;everyone. Everything, and after a long time, you realize i meant&lt;br /&gt;nothing to him/her, its much painful. Or even for a person like me,&lt;br /&gt;its difficult to digest that for the next person, there were many&lt;br /&gt;individuals having the same rank as mine. &lt;p&gt;Nowadays i'm spending hard lifetime. Finance isn't my problem. I never &lt;p&gt;tense due to any such problem. The only thing that hurts me is the&lt;br /&gt;attitude and behavior of others. Not all others. Obviously my friends&lt;br /&gt;and the people around me. Whom i love, care, respect and keep special.&lt;br /&gt;And unfortunately, i'm nothing for most of those people. Not that i&lt;br /&gt;want to be the only one in their lives but i feel noone needs me but i&lt;br /&gt;need everyone. Don't know why!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-1585908905027513412?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/1585908905027513412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/why.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/1585908905027513412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/1585908905027513412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/10/why.html' title='Why'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-4552375620646066989</id><published>2009-09-14T13:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T13:46:31.176-07:00</updated><title type='text'>¤"Laikh"¤</title><content type='html'>Majboor na hondi sown rub di,&lt;br&gt;khushnood me saath nibhaen haa. . . .&lt;br&gt;*&lt;br&gt;Kuj lekh v mere naal honday,&lt;br&gt;tainu bakht di peeng chutain haa. . . .&lt;br&gt;*&lt;br&gt;Me ap tan beshak rul jaandi,&lt;br&gt;tainu katan na dhol rulain haa. . . .&lt;br&gt;*&lt;br&gt;Tera naa likhwain ha takhti tay,&lt;br&gt;oowha takhti gul cha pain haa!!!&lt;br&gt;(there are reasons behind all these posts &amp;amp; each word)&lt;p&gt;-- &lt;br&gt;Sent from my mobile device&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-4552375620646066989?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/4552375620646066989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/09/laikh.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/4552375620646066989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/4552375620646066989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/09/laikh.html' title='¤&quot;Laikh&quot;¤'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-9012701033935294933</id><published>2009-09-14T13:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T13:04:31.772-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dr. Khusnood poetry</title><content type='html'>Me teri raah te aa nit khalondi. . .&lt;br&gt;Je na bulaen tan marzi aala en.&lt;br&gt;__________&lt;p&gt;Tu naal ghairaan day has k meray. . .&lt;br&gt;Je zakham dukhaen tan marzi aala en.&lt;br&gt;__________&lt;p&gt;Ae zindagi tere naa lai ye,&lt;br&gt;me aj v teri te kal v teri. . .&lt;br&gt;Tu mard ho k wafa day waaday je na nibhaen te marzi aala en!!&lt;p&gt;-- &lt;br&gt;Sent from my mobile device&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-9012701033935294933?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/9012701033935294933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/09/dr-khusnood-poetry.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/9012701033935294933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/9012701033935294933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/09/dr-khusnood-poetry.html' title='Dr. Khusnood poetry'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-4422548704850169231</id><published>2009-09-03T09:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T09:46:20.116-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gham</title><content type='html'>Jab se wo juda hue soz-e-jigar kam nahin hota. . .&lt;br&gt;Me kese bawar kar lon un ko meri barbadi ka gham nahin hota.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;hr /&gt;New! Open Hotmail faster on the new &lt;a href='http://go.microsoft.com/?linkid=9677400' target='_new'&gt;MSN homepage!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-4422548704850169231?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/4422548704850169231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/09/gham.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/4422548704850169231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/4422548704850169231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/09/gham.html' title='Gham'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-756033447610311586</id><published>2009-03-31T12:54:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-31T12:54:53.296-07:00</updated><title type='text'>natural scene after rain</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/tayyabaamirjoyia/3402435658/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3584/3402435658_25b18c2dd7_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/tayyabaamirjoyia/3402435658/"&gt;natural scene after rain&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/tayyabaamirjoyia/"&gt;tayyaba joyia&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br clear="all" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-756033447610311586?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/756033447610311586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/03/natural-scene-after-rain.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/756033447610311586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/756033447610311586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/03/natural-scene-after-rain.html' title='natural scene after rain'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3584/3402435658_25b18c2dd7_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-5245940680646794553</id><published>2009-02-23T12:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T14:26:43.719-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Punjabi!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Kujh shouq he yaar faqeeri da,&lt;br /&gt;Kujh ishk ne dar dar rol ditta!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Kujh sajnaan hujjat nahin chori,&lt;br /&gt;Kujh zeher raqiban ghol ditta!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Kujh hijar firaq de rang charrya,&lt;br /&gt;Kujh dard maahi anmol ditta!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#996633;"&gt;Kujh sar gai kismat Bad-kismat di,&lt;br /&gt;Kujh pyaar wich judai roll ditta!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-5245940680646794553?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/5245940680646794553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/02/punjabi.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/5245940680646794553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/5245940680646794553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/02/punjabi.html' title='Punjabi!!'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-4643433551612000749</id><published>2009-02-20T13:12:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T05:01:12.190-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Missing You</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;i cant say you will miss me&lt;br /&gt;i have left no signs&lt;br /&gt;i have no specialities&lt;br /&gt;i am not important&lt;br /&gt;i have nothing attractive that you can miss&lt;br /&gt;i cant say that when someone will say THIS, you will miss me&lt;br /&gt;i cant say that when saomeone will be doing THIS, you will miss me&lt;br /&gt;i cant say that when you will be having THIS view, you will miss me&lt;br /&gt;BUT&lt;br /&gt;i can say that i miss you all the time&lt;br /&gt;when i turn on my cell phone, i miss you&lt;br /&gt;when i listen music, i miss you&lt;br /&gt;when i read books, i miss you&lt;br /&gt;when i lie on bed, i miss you&lt;br /&gt;when i see mijrror, i miss you&lt;br /&gt;when i read texts, i miss you&lt;br /&gt;when i open my diaries, i miss you&lt;br /&gt;when i open my email, i miss you&lt;br /&gt;when i open my blog, i miss you&lt;br /&gt;when i open my cupboard, i miss you&lt;br /&gt;when i meet people, i miss you&lt;br /&gt;My Everything Questions Me About You&lt;br /&gt;You Are Everywhere&lt;br /&gt;why only i miss you and you DONT CARE!!!&lt;br /&gt;No one cares, no one believes&lt;br /&gt;That I MISS YOU&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-4643433551612000749?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/4643433551612000749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/02/missing-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/4643433551612000749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/4643433551612000749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/02/missing-you.html' title='Missing You'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-7858958737765475638</id><published>2009-02-19T13:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T05:02:01.133-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HarDnesS</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;some people are so hard, so stiff, so rough that they dont even feel pity for the person dying in front of them with thirst and they have plenty of water.........&lt;br /&gt;their hardness is actually helping them to spend their lives......&lt;br /&gt;if there was any decision for me to make, i would have killed all of them.....&lt;br /&gt;killed in a way they kill others.....&lt;br /&gt;with so much torcher as they become pain for others!!!&lt;br /&gt;making them tearful and having a constant smile on my face as if i am not listening!!!&lt;br /&gt;they scream and i laugh&lt;br /&gt;they die and i live&lt;br /&gt;they beg and i dont care&lt;br /&gt;they pledge and i dont listen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I WISH I WISH&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i could be that strong&lt;br /&gt;these are the most HORRIBLE, FEARFUL, SCARY, NON-LOVABLE, DISTRUSTFUL, UNFAITHFUL people around us........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;such people never experience pain!!!&lt;br /&gt;a pain deep inside their heart!!!&lt;br /&gt;They are feelingless!!!&lt;br /&gt;they want to rotate the earth as they wish, as they like and the individuals are just like toys, they can break them anytime, anywhere&lt;br /&gt;no matter into how many pieces it breaks up!!!&lt;br /&gt;they tear the paople like the pages!!!&lt;br /&gt;no matter how soft it was&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in short, THEY JUST DONT CARE!!!!&lt;br /&gt;and why they sould???&lt;br /&gt;they have everything.......&lt;br /&gt;everything that amuses them,&lt;br /&gt;everything that is interesting,&lt;br /&gt;everything that they NEED!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I Wish such people could never exist&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;who give BAD experiences to others&lt;br /&gt;who ruin the lives of others&lt;br /&gt;who make others to realize, to say that the friends are the worst enemies!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I wish i could soften them....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;make them undrestand what the feelings and emotions are!!!&lt;br /&gt;what is meant by Importance&lt;br /&gt;how they can have very biG losses!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I wish they could understand..........&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-7858958737765475638?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/7858958737765475638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/02/hardness.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/7858958737765475638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/7858958737765475638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/02/hardness.html' title='HarDnesS'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-6640200646179654058</id><published>2009-02-13T17:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T13:35:46.561-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My heart</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;In my heart, there is a nest&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;for so many years, it remained hollow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;But at once someone came and&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;unfortunately, it started to follow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;What was happening to me,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;i could not recognize&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;But it was too late,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;when i realized&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;Inside a shell, like a pearl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;i thought, im a lucky girl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;I never met people of such grace&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;who never leave any trace.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;Someone popped into my mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;alone on my bed when i was sitting,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;After a long while i felt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;i was undergoing what we call "missing"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;Thoughts occupied me deeper and deeper&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;just like a thunder of rain &amp;amp; wind of winter&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;Light of love got lit in me,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;such a wonder, i never thought&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;As a gift to me,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;a book of old memories I have got.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;For at the end, in trying to persuade,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;these feelings of my heart will never experience trade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;the light of your love is as it is, it'll never fade.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-6640200646179654058?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/6640200646179654058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-first-ever-creation.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/6640200646179654058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/6640200646179654058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-first-ever-creation.html' title='My heart'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-1022456474740553768</id><published>2009-02-12T13:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T13:14:03.108-08:00</updated><title type='text'>InterNationaLlization</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;I think more than the firms and any other businesses people are trying to internationalize, actually they are the cause for internationalization of firms.&lt;br /&gt;Not bad...&lt;br /&gt;But why???&lt;br /&gt;because no one is satisfied on what he has, people try to search peace, calm, relaxation in other areas, going away from what they have, where they live...&lt;br /&gt;(most of the PAKISTANIS)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its a very good habit but why to explore people, their feelings, their thoughts. Internationalization in this case is bot beneficial...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Human roghts and FEELINGS are the most valuable thing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-1022456474740553768?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/1022456474740553768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/02/internationalization.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/1022456474740553768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/1022456474740553768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/02/internationalization.html' title='InterNationaLlization'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-4600133127897240352</id><published>2009-02-11T06:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T13:01:04.097-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The place where i belong to...... MY HOME</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLfPRgVs3I/AAAAAAAAACQ/azeo0jDsvLk/s1600-h/06082008483.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLfPRgVs3I/AAAAAAAAACQ/azeo0jDsvLk/s320/06082008483.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301545164858569586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLe3G88kOI/AAAAAAAAACI/Oiz-rqgtJPQ/s1600-h/Image015.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLe3G88kOI/AAAAAAAAACI/Oiz-rqgtJPQ/s400/Image015.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301544749708906722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-4600133127897240352?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/4600133127897240352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/02/place-where-i-belong-to-my-home.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/4600133127897240352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/4600133127897240352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/02/place-where-i-belong-to-my-home.html' title='The place where i belong to...... MY HOME'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLfPRgVs3I/AAAAAAAAACQ/azeo0jDsvLk/s72-c/06082008483.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-1193208128000391787</id><published>2009-02-11T05:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T12:39:03.836-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rana Ahmed Sher Joyia &amp; Rana Fateh Sher Joyia</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLbS4lvOtI/AAAAAAAAACA/gfO8oFmfBl4/s1600-h/10122008704.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLbS4lvOtI/AAAAAAAAACA/gfO8oFmfBl4/s400/10122008704.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301540828843293394" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'brothers, my fathers'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-1193208128000391787?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/1193208128000391787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/02/left-to-right-rana-ahmed-sher-rana.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/1193208128000391787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/1193208128000391787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/02/left-to-right-rana-ahmed-sher-rana.html' title='&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Rana Ahmed Sher Joyia &amp; Rana Fateh Sher Joyia&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLbS4lvOtI/AAAAAAAAACA/gfO8oFmfBl4/s72-c/10122008704.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259545765984600453.post-7856880602835247149</id><published>2009-02-11T04:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T04:04:24.898-08:00</updated><title type='text'>FM 100</title><content type='html'>FM 100 was established in the year 1994 and started broadcasting its regular transmission from March 23, 1995, it is the first radio channel in Pakistan providing live entertainment programs round the clock and promoting Pakistan music among the population, regular programs includes Urdu pop, Panjabi and western Music for younger generation, latest films hits for housewives, Ghazals &amp;amp; folk songs for listeners of all ages.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FM100 has gained immense popularity in a short span of time in the major cities of Pakistan i.e. Karachi, Lahore and Rawalpindi/Islamabad as it provide services in these cities. It has played a vital role in bringing about a change in their entertainment pattern but still needs some time and some efforts to immensely affect the radio listening habit of people. In Pakistan, the music played the dialogue and language used by the Djs, the conversation between callers and show hosts and the entire package and style of FM100 shows of a new generation of Pakistan that is coming. FM100 radio channel has touched the Hearts of radio listeners in Pakistan. And in just few months' radio is successfully attracting sizeable quality audience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have heard the station for more than one hour in three consecutive days. As I have heard the station at night i.e. after 10 pm, the program broadcasted is based on slow music because people don’t prefer loud or noisy music at that time. The name of the program is Khawaab Dareeche and it starts at 12 and ends at 3 am. The DJ or presenter is Athar Rizvi. This program is broadcasted from Monday to Friday. It consists of Ghazals and is based on Urdu literature. It’s a kind of talk show because people can call live and can share their own poetry or any thing related to Urdu literature. The audience can participate through calls or they can send messages. The requests for Ghazals are fulfilled. DJ is friendly and tries to play the requests of everyone. The main attraction of the program is this that the poets also call there and express their views and ideas about any issue being discussed in the program. It shows that they want to satisfy their listeners. And prefer them to participate as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The songs played are almost slow music Ghazals. This choice shows that the program is specifically broadcasted for the listeners who wish to relax their minds at night and want to comfort themselves with the rhythm and slow music. This also depicts that they have targeted the audience who is more interested in Urdu literature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The message they are delivering, in my point of view is the right kind of message because they are trying to keep the audience attracted towards Urdu literature by comforting their minds. They have tried to create their image that they care for their listeners because broadcasting fast music program at this time of night was not suitable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ads broadcasted are mostly of all kinds. The ads of different products and services are broadcasted and they are mostly targeting the audience living in Rawalpindi and Islamabad because the network coverage of the station is limited to these two cities and some areas around them. So advertisements are mostly targeting the segments living in these areas. The ads of those products are telecasted most which are trying to position them and their brand in these cities. Their ads also consist of their promotional activities because they keep reminding the listeners and try to keep them update about their other programs and upcoming programs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mostly the listeners of this radio station are satisfied from this program because usually people who listens the music at this time try to comfort their minds and relax at this time. They don’t prefer loud and fast music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the negative point of the radio station is this that they should focus on Urdu literature in other programs, broadcasted at other days and time. They are also totally dissatisfying those listeners who prefer fast music. They should also consider that group because otherwise those listeners will shift to the other stations and programs as they will find it boring. Another weak point is this that they are not broadcasting that much ads as they can. It shows that its not high budget program. The DJ is felt usually sleepy as if he will sleep at once while talking or addressing the listeners. DJ should seem fresh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3259545765984600453-7856880602835247149?l=tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/feeds/7856880602835247149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/02/fm-100.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/7856880602835247149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3259545765984600453/posts/default/7856880602835247149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tayyabaamirjoyia.blogspot.com/2009/02/fm-100.html' title='FM 100'/><author><name>Tayyaba Amir Joyia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13849960272760907396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FEBMHyznkBY/SZLJCoVVn8I/AAAAAAAAAA8/HbQwRFXR61s/S220/Image024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
