memories - Sabahat Aamir

flashback 2021 explained

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flashback 2021 explained

Hello Folks!

Entering into 2022, many of us have many important thoughts, pieces of advice, and flashbacks to share. Today, I aim to share a few Flashbacks of 2021, with you. So let’s start.

The year, 2021, started with great aspirations and a pre-planned, mode of action to be implemented, for the year through but Nature had something else in mind. All aspirations and pre-planned things took a new course altogether leading to another New year.

Secondly, everyone witnessed new transformations in the way. Some optimistic yet some pessimistic; overall helping us all through difficult times.

Thirdly, the year 2021, turned out to be an eye-opener even for the Pharaohs of time. Never think of yourself as a sole power; there is one from whom no one can escape.

Fourthly, a Flashback on 2021 reiterates that nothing in this world is permanent. You will have it now and the next moment it will elapse from the hands like quicksand. Such has been the lives of many near and dear ones in the time of COVID.

Fifthly, 2021, taught many of us that true friendships are rare. Mostly, people are here for their own gains and benefits. Only a few will see eye to eye with your passions and concerns.

Sixth, invest your time and energy with your loved ones; for you will never get the chance once gone. Cherish them, embrace them and tell them that you love them and miss the times you spent together.

Life will go on the usual way it used to but you will not have them between you, in your lives to tell them how much you miss them.

Seventhly, take out time for those who you know not and invest time in them. Be it charity work or just a call. Your positive behavior matters to them.

In the end, I would like to say that there is only one life; value it and value those who love you and care about you. There is no rewind button. So cherish every moment and be a better version of yourself with each passing day.

Think about it. Until next time, stay safe and healthy.

Happy Reading!

About Post Author

sabahat

sabpir@gmail.com

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JOURNEY OF THE SOUL;UPCLOSE AND PERSONAL

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JOURNEY OF THE SOUL;

UPCLOSE AND PERSONAL

Hello Folks!

Today, I will share with you the life story of a woman who went through many struggles in her life to be the person that she now is and from whose blogs, you take great inspiration.

It’s a journey of the soul. So let the curtains unveil.

Born in a family of four siblings, always treated lesser, based on skin tone and intelligence, a forceps delivery, as I was told was the reason for my being the way I am. I weaved a castle of imagination around me.

I lived in that imaginary world where I was a hero and made an impact on society.

I had to struggle to fit in with my surroundings and the school at large. Low in confidence and always being bullied by the better, posh, and popular lot.

Still determined to prove myself one day.

I was still my father’s favorite. He loved me despite my looks and intelligence and I loved him selflessly.

As I grew older and took interest in subjects of my liking, I began to excel in my studies and finding like-minded people like me who saw my capabilities and not my flaws.

All my childhood, I suffered from comparisons and not being good enough but my innate nature couldn’t be changed that is spreading happiness around and helping ones like me, I could in my own way.

Even at this time, at the age of 43, people who I call family, say mean things to me. My family (blood bindings) whom I have always put first then my own family (husband and children).

Have tried to keep them happy, still off and on, have been blamed for the embezzlement of money, and other mean things, just because I take care of my old father.

Most of the time, I listen to them just thinking, maybe I am living in my fathers’ house with my family for my father gives everyone the right to treat me that way.

My children often get emotional and angry saying that why don’t you tell them what you tell us? Why can’t they just leave you alone? Next time so and so khala (aunt)does this, we will tell them.

And I always tell them that it is bad manners and Allah is looking and He will take care of them.

They too suffer because they see their mother suffering at the hands of her loved ones. Though children, they want to say things to them but then think about how, I will feel, stop and take their distances.

I can’t erase the harsh talk out of their minds and let them think all is good. They have to face the bitter reality of life, only to be stronger in the future.

Off and on there have been times where I have desperately felt the need of being independent and telling everyone that I am not dependent on them or their mercy.

Many times in my life, I have fallen and got back again on my foot, thinking about what kind of life I want for my children.

I can sense the dejection going into my children. They were not brought into this world to go through the demise, I am going through.

I want them to have a smooth life and am willing to make/making the necessary sacrifices for their good future.

We have just one life and we have to utilize it to the best of our capabilities. I want to utilize all my talents, help other people along the way and show them a beacon of light.

The purpose of this blog is to motivate the fallen souls who think that being born in a good wealthy family is a privilege. Well, folks, it’s not.

Some learn it the easy way and some learn it the hard way. The more close we are to our basics, the easy it is for us to excel.

One is a prince or princess till the parents are alive as after them or when they themselves are dependent, you are no one’s prince or princess, not even your husband owns you.

You and you alone have to make this difference.“Thinking is the talking of the soul with itself”https://www.brainyquote.com/topics/soul-quotes.

My journey of the soul is an ongoing journey and I have traveled a long way to reach this point now, from what I was 5 years back to the new version of me now.

I have come a long way, learned a lot from like-minded, transformed a lot with mentors, and groomed a lot with the help of sincere and honest friends and readers like you.

Life is not a bed of roses. It never has been.

Struggling, yet determined woman on the run to make a difference in the lives around me and those who look at me in infancy.

I am a wife, a daughter, a sister, a mother, and to many an influencer, a challenge who is changing the way of thinking at large.

I say what I think is right and practice what I believe is right. I don’t do comparisons, am not judgemental. I am the same person for all, whoever approaches.

Being an empath, I can feel what others can’t say because I go through the same feelings every day by connecting to people. We all have a purpose in this world.

My purpose is to ease other people’s life. And make them want to live their life constructively.

I am no counselor, just a human being who understands a multitude of emotions, a good friend, and a listening ear.

As an individual, I would recommend all the fallen angels suffering from meanness find a source you can, use as catharsis, your life will change. It changed mine.https://www.sabahataamir.com/catharsis-2/

As humans, let’s help each other to come out of their shells, have a voice and be productive in meaningful ways.

Think about it.

Until next time, stay safe and healthy.

About Post Author

sabahat

sabpir@gmail.com

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INSPIRATIONS/HOW TRAVELLING CAN OPEN YOUR EYES?

Read Time:5 Minute, 14 Second

INSPIRATIONS/HOW TRAVELLING CAN OPEN YOUR EYES?

Hello Folks!

We don’t need personalities or great achievers to get inspiration. One can also derive inspiration from https://dictionary.cambridge.org/dictionary/english/inspiration common people having unbelievable qualities to make a change.

Here, is my story, how traveling can open one’s eyes to the atrocities/discrimination around us. Today, I will talk about such a person who has been my inspiration since childhood. So let’s talk about her.

I remember, Haiqa from my childhood memories of the 1980s. I was 5 years old then, traveling with my family to the U.S. My father was a government official who was deputed in the U.S to attend a study course at the University of Vanderbilt.

I had dreams as every child would have while traveling abroad, unaware of atrocities, awaiting us.

Asians and people from other Nationalities are valued with great esteem in our part of the world but to the outside world, we are bloody Paki’s or Brown Nation and may also be categorized at best as Indians as a compliment.

My first memory of Racism is an encounter at the U.S Airport. This, I witnessed and observed through the body language of my father who then was in his early 40’s as I am today.

My father very politely addressed the white man (him )as “Sir’’, and asked him how to operate the vending machine?

He jerked his shoulders and with disgust on his face went away. I was too young to determine whether he was an American or belonged to some other nationality. My small brain only knew that he was white/fair and we were brown.

I kept on observing my father and the reactions of the passers-by who mostly were white/fair people. I could not find one white person who would stop and show a kind gesture of telling my father how to operate a vending machine.

My father looked at me and smiled and said, “it’s ok darling, we are new here and people don’t understand our accent.”

I smiled back at him and nodded ok. But in my heart, I knew, there was something wrong.

I turned around and looked at different people who were gazing at us. Feeling slighted and embarrassed, I hid behind my father.

In the meantime, I had already observed a Black man standing around the corner of the vending machine observing the attitudes of the passers-by.

After some time, he mustered up the courage and came to my father and told him how to operate the vending machine. My father thanked him a lot for the help.

I was very much impressed by the attitude of the Black person and how my father described his kindness.

The only topic of our discussion on the way to the University placed apartments was the kindness of the Black person and how we should be kind to each other irrespective of our color or race or language.

The reception committee in the apartment building was very cordial as far as I can remember. They gave us a warm welcome and showed my father the apartment where he was to stay for two years during his study.

There was a park in front of the building in which we lived. My mother used to watch us from the kitchen window while we sisters played in the playground.

It was the playground where I met Haiqa for the first time.

She was being bullied by American boys and as I recalled my experience at the Airport, how it made me feel; without thinking, I rushed to her rescue. When the boys saw me coming, running towards them, they were scared and ran off.

She looked at me, smiled, thanked me and we became best friends till my stay in the U.S. She was from Ghana.

She was my crime partner in eating the snacks her mother and my mom brought but we were happy. I don’t remember her parents that much but they never said anything regarding our friendship.

I remember one particular incident of Elevators that changed my life forever. They have always scared the hell out of me. And the elevator in our building was the sort that did not open if it was closed.

Once coming back from the playground, she and I were in the Elevator. The elevator opened on our floor and she went out. She knew elevators scared me. As soon as she got out, she called my nickname and said, Sherry, “come quickly before the elevator closes”.

I was about to get out when the elevator started closing.

She could see the fear in my eyes. Without hesitation, for a moment she placed her hand in front of the closing door of the elevator and said to me not to worry and get out.

I managed to get out but unfortunately, her hand was stuck in the elevator. I tried opening the elevator to take her hand out but it was of no avail.

I told her not to worry as I will get help. I ran to my mother and told her that Haiqa’s hand was stuck in the elevator. My mother then called her parents to let them know of the situation along with the maintenance people.

We all were there when the maintenance guys took her hand out of the stuck elevator.

I thank God every day that nothing happened to her. She changed my views about life forever.

I think about her every day and recall her attitude towards people of color.

How a small gesture can change someone’s life forever. Good deeds are never forgotten and come back time and again to smooth someone’s else life.

I wish her happiness and success wherever she is and have this desire that someday, our paths meet again.

And, I can show her, how I have graced over the years from a frustrated child to a graceful lady and how her attitude towards friends and unknown people has made me contribute my life’s learning in helping people around me and the globe.

Until next time stay safe and healthy.

Happy Reading!

https://www.instagram.com/sabahatejazpiracha/

About Post Author

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sabpir@gmail.com

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JOURNEY OF THE SOUL;

UPCLOSE AND PERSONAL

Hello Folks!

Today, I will share with you the life story of a woman who went through many struggles in her life to be the person that she now is and from whose blogs, you take great inspiration.

It’s a journey of the soul. So let the curtains unveil.

Born in a family of four siblings, always treated lesser, based on skin tone and intelligence, a forceps delivery, as I was told was the reason for my being the way I am. I weaved a castle of imagination around me.

I lived in that imaginary world where I was a hero and made an impact on society.

I had to struggle to fit in with my surroundings and the school at large. Low in confidence and always being bullied by the better, posh, and popular lot.

Still determined to prove myself one day.

I was still my father’s favorite. He loved me despite my looks and intelligence and I loved him selflessly.

As I grew older and took interest in subjects of my liking, I began to excel in my studies and finding like-minded people like me who saw my capabilities and not my flaws.

All my childhood, I suffered from comparisons and not being good enough but my innate nature couldn’t be changed that is spreading happiness around and helping ones like me, I could in my own way.

Even at this time, at the age of 43, people who I call family, say mean things to me. My family (blood bindings) whom I have always put first then my own family (husband and children).

Have tried to keep them happy, still off and on, have been blamed for the embezzlement of money, and other mean things, just because I take care of my old father.

Most of the time, I listen to them just thinking, maybe I am living in my fathers’ house with my family for my father gives everyone the right to treat me that way.

My children often get emotional and angry saying that why don’t you tell them what you tell us? Why can’t they just leave you alone? Next time so and so khala (aunt)does this, we will tell them.

And I always tell them that it is bad manners and Allah is looking and He will take care of them.

They too suffer because they see their mother suffering at the hands of her loved ones. Though children, they want to say things to them but then think about how, I will feel, stop and take their distances.

I can’t erase the harsh talk out of their minds and let them think all is good. They have to face the bitter reality of life, only to be stronger in the future.

Off and on there have been times where I have desperately felt the need of being independent and telling everyone that I am not dependent on them or their mercy.

Many times in my life, I have fallen and got back again on my foot, thinking about what kind of life I want for my children.

I can sense the dejection going into my children. They were not brought into this world to go through the demise, I am going through.

I want them to have a smooth life and am willing to make/making the necessary sacrifices for their good future.

We have just one life and we have to utilize it to the best of our capabilities. I want to utilize all my talents, help other people along the way and show them a beacon of light.

The purpose of this blog is to motivate the fallen souls who think that being born in a good wealthy family is a privilege. Well, folks, it’s not.

Some learn it the easy way and some learn it the hard way. The more close we are to our basics, the easy it is for us to excel.

One is a prince or princess till the parents are alive as after them or when they themselves are dependent, you are no one’s prince or princess, not even your husband owns you.

You and you alone have to make this difference.“Thinking is the talking of the soul with itself”https://www.brainyquote.com/topics/soul-quotes.

My journey of the soul is an ongoing journey and I have traveled a long way to reach this point now, from what I was 5 years back to the new version of me now.

I have come a long way, learned a lot from like-minded, transformed a lot with mentors, and groomed a lot with the help of sincere and honest friends and readers like you.

Life is not a bed of roses. It never has been.

Struggling, yet determined woman on the run to make a difference in the lives around me and those who look at me in infancy.

I am a wife, a daughter, a sister, a mother, and to many an influencer, a challenge who is changing the way of thinking at large.

I say what I think is right and practice what I believe is right. I don’t do comparisons, am not judgemental. I am the same person for all, whoever approaches.

Being an empath, I can feel what others can’t say because I go through the same feelings every day by connecting to people. We all have a purpose in this world.

My purpose is to ease other people’s life. And make them want to live their life constructively.

I am no counselor, just a human being who understands a multitude of emotions, a good friend, and a listening ear.

As an individual, I would recommend all the fallen angels suffering from meanness find a source you can, use as catharsis, your life will change. It changed mine.https://www.sabahataamir.com/catharsis-2/

As humans, let’s help each other to come out of their shells, have a voice and be productive in meaningful ways.

Think about it.

Until next time, stay safe and healthy.

Share this:

Like this:

INSPIRATIONS/HOW TRAVELLING CAN OPEN YOUR EYES?

Hello Folks!

We don’t need personalities or great achievers to get inspiration. One can also derive inspiration from https://dictionary.cambridge.org/dictionary/english/inspiration common people having unbelievable qualities to make a change.

Here, is my story, how traveling can open one’s eyes to the atrocities/discrimination around us. Today, I will talk about such a person who has been my inspiration since childhood. So let’s talk about her.

I remember, Haiqa from my childhood memories of the 1980s. I was 5 years old then, traveling with my family to the U.S. My father was a government official who was deputed in the U.S to attend a study course at the University of Vanderbilt.

I had dreams as every child would have while traveling abroad, unaware of atrocities, awaiting us.

Asians and people from other Nationalities are valued with great esteem in our part of the world but to the outside world, we are bloody Paki’s or Brown Nation and may also be categorized at best as Indians as a compliment.

My first memory of Racism is an encounter at the U.S Airport. This, I witnessed and observed through the body language of my father who then was in his early 40’s as I am today.

My father very politely addressed the white man (him )as “Sir’’, and asked him how to operate the vending machine?

He jerked his shoulders and with disgust on his face went away. I was too young to determine whether he was an American or belonged to some other nationality. My small brain only knew that he was white/fair and we were brown.

I kept on observing my father and the reactions of the passers-by who mostly were white/fair people. I could not find one white person who would stop and show a kind gesture of telling my father how to operate a vending machine.

My father looked at me and smiled and said, “it’s ok darling, we are new here and people don’t understand our accent.”

I smiled back at him and nodded ok. But in my heart, I knew, there was something wrong.

I turned around and looked at different people who were gazing at us. Feeling slighted and embarrassed, I hid behind my father.

In the meantime, I had already observed a Black man standing around the corner of the vending machine observing the attitudes of the passers-by.

After some time, he mustered up the courage and came to my father and told him how to operate the vending machine. My father thanked him a lot for the help.

I was very much impressed by the attitude of the Black person and how my father described his kindness.

The only topic of our discussion on the way to the University placed apartments was the kindness of the Black person and how we should be kind to each other irrespective of our color or race or language.

The reception committee in the apartment building was very cordial as far as I can remember. They gave us a warm welcome and showed my father the apartment where he was to stay for two years during his study.

There was a park in front of the building in which we lived. My mother used to watch us from the kitchen window while we sisters played in the playground.