I had just finished my quarterly exams and was on a vacation trip at my sister’s place in a remote town near Mysore. One morning, as I descended to the living room, I saw my cousins glued to the TV watching something. Munching a piece of buttered toast, I asked them what were they watching. “Harry Potter” they replied in unison. I joined them and within minutes Read the rest of this entry
(This is the second part of a series. Please read the first part if you have missed it.)
As I exited the Masjid, I was already making a mental note of what different chores I had to finish before I can go off for a brief walk in the Ramzan Bazaar. I hastened my walk because my first stop was the local grocery market. I had to go there, choose the shop which had the smallest crowd of shoppers and then buy everything that was required for the big day: the Eid. I had no more than an hour to do this before the Read the rest of this entry
The Masjid was jam packed with people and everyone was murmuring in anticipation. The 29th fast of Ramzan had ended and the Imam had temporarily halted the Taraweeh prayers as everyone waited in anticipation. There were rumours that the moon was sighted.
The atmosphere in the Masjid was of a relaxed anticipation. People sat leaning against the walls, talking in groups. Some were engrossed in reading the Quran while others sat silently, facing the Qiblah. I was also sitting with my friends, having zoned myself out of the conversation, trying not to let sadness engulf me as the Ramzan had all but ended. I turned around to observe what everyone was doing. The respected Imam and our mentor, Moulana Afzal Nadwi, was standing at the entrance of the Masjid. His hands folded and eyes fixated on the sky outside, lost in some deep thought. I felt that I was not alone in mourning the end of Ramzan and the great spiritual opportunities it brought.
As I was deep in thought,
It was many years ago. I was leaning quietly on the wall near Harry’s bed while Professor Dumbledore talked to him. Hours ago, Harry had thwarted Voldemort and was now recovering in the hospital wing. Professor Dumbledore was telling his usual wisdom filled stuff and I was eyeing all those sweets Harry had got. The action was over and I was longing for a nice Paneer filled sandwich. However, Professor Dumbledore told Harry something which made me a little uncomfortable. Read the rest of this entry
The kitchen was dark, its windows closed and the lights off. Outside, it was raining heavily, with sleets of water splattering on the tin roof, creating a huge din. It sounded like the roar of a monster. The only illumination came from two burning stoves. A pot of daal was simmering on one while the other had a black heated pan. Despite the darkness, she had not lighted the candles yet. There were only two of them and she was conserving them, not knowing when the power will resume.
Her arms itched and her knees ached but she stood there, baking the rotis, making sure –even in the surrounding darkness- that no roti was overbaked. Her feet throbbed with pain as she stood on the cold kitchen floor, beads of sweat forming on her forehead due to the stove’s heat. But even in this darkness, the itching and with the throbbing pains, her face was lit with a beautiful smile, slightly visible in the blueish glow of the stove. Today she was cooking
A young journalist and an enthusiastic writer, AZ Damudi is an aspiring novelist and film maker, hailing from India.
He is also a public speaker in Urdu and English.
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As soon as the clock struck 6 in the evening, he snapped his laptop shut and hurriedly jotted down the signing-out details at the security desk of his office “jaldi me ho saab?” the guard asked, he gave him a swift smile and nodded, pressing the lift’s button several times in his hurry. The lift came and he clambered inside.
As he had expected, the traffic was heavy at this time of the evening. This further escalated his sense of urgency.. Which had started from a feeling of guilt during the lunch break at his office. He had yelled at his wife that very morning.. It was the first time he had lost his temper since the last 6 months of their marriage… She had called him on his phone several times during the lunch break.. When he hadn’t received any call of her’s, she had left messages asking whether he had had lunch?… Even then he didn’t thought of calling her back.
While working, all of a sudden, Read the rest of this entry
“I have always noticed this major difference between wise and clever people. Clever people always reply to their critics whenever they have a good point, They don’t stop themselves from retorting back when their retort has weight; The wise people, on the contrary, don’t reply to their critics all the time, even though they have brilliant counter-points, many a times they prefer silence.
It clearly shows that its just not about having the best thing to say, but also knowing when to say it.”
The Memory Lane – From The Diaries of AZ Damudi
“Throughout my life, I have seen two types of people. There are those who act in open view. Their efforts are always visible to everyone. They work hard & loud so that no one misses them or their work. When their efforts bear fruit and their plans succeed, they dont hesitate in accepting the applause from the people for their achievements. They proudly walk on the stage of recognition and acknowledge the praise which is poured on them. well, no one can say they dont deserve it because they have worked hard for it.
There, however, exists another kind. Read the rest of this entry
Its strange how we miss the things we used to take lightly when we had them. For instance, rain. I remember when I was a kid, I didnt much like it when it rained. The reasons were many. If I was on a holiday, it used to be my responsibility to bring groceries for home -which naturally meant- that I had to go out. Navigating through the mud-pools was no less than navigating through a minefield grin emoticon , Its not easy to carry an umbrella in one hand and the weight of groceries in another, specially when a sudden rain forced you to open your umbrella in haste. I used to envy those who were sitting in their cozy homes; not bothering about mud-pools and dirt while I used to contemplate how to cross the road and hold the umbrella steady lest the wind blew it out of my hands. Read the rest of this entry