Dreams are a sin

Piercing me finally
I've realized my destiny
With no hope to wish for
My soul has been killed in a scene of gore

The quoted part is from a I poem I wrote. When writing it, I was in the same feeling as I am in right now. I just wonder why I'm even writing this blog. I should be studying. It's the purpose of my life, right?

I don't know if this is the same rant every other teenager sings when they reach this point in life, but I know one thing for sure that it will be no big deal one day. Because if these cries were to be listened to, we would have heroes today. We wouldn't be at the dire need of WW3 or Doomsday. Now, I'm not saying that I want to be an actor or singer when I grow up, which my parents don't want. I don't want to be a writer (solely) which my mom thinks won't pay. I don't want to be a single woman my entire life, I don't want to stop studying and sit home, I don't want to turn myself into a lesbian/gay/bisexual/yadi yadi yada and I don't plan to change my gender. Gosh, I can't think of anything else freaky.

But I want to be something other than 'a' girl in 'a' city, in 'a' province, in 'a' country, in 'a' continent, in 'a' planet, in 'a' solar system. I don't want to be the girl next door, and that doesn't mean I want the name 'Rabia Anjum' all over the magazine and my hottest picture on it. Infact, I'd rather remain anoymous. But what I want to be heard is my voice. My screams, infact. I want to scream right now. And wail. And shatter. Because eventually, it doesn't matter.

Enough with the metaphors and bakwaas (Urdu for rubbish talk), I'll get to the point. I want to become five things in life - a great human, (which means definitely) a great Muslim, a great Pakistani, a great writer and last but not the least, a great leader of renaissance. But I can't. Ack, I'm not being pessimistic, just logical. Even if I become a great human, I will never be able to proceed further. My mom wants me to become an artitect (sp?) and then marry after that, and according to my taste the best pick would be a 10-inch long bearded man, who prays all day long and believes since he lives in an 'infidel' country, he has the right to rebel and 'fight'. Now, there's nothing wrong with the beard, or praying, or the spirit to fight for Islam, but it's limited to a part of Islam. He's not willing to fund for charities, to teach his children true morals of life and to work for his country's welfare. He's a very mild form of what you modern people call 'extremists', 'terrorists' and 'Taliban'. No offense, but don't bother with it. We know how bad we are. Thanks for the 'factual revision', but it's not even funny.

Remind you, no offense to you personally! I'm just tired of certain people treating us like we're born terrorists. So, like I was saying, that's where my future lies.
But what I want is different. I want to become a geologist, and work hard for the mineral sector of my country which is being ignored. I want to write in defense of Islam and Pakistan. I want to write to revive the truth of being a Muslim in my people, my spiritual siblings. I want to use the money I earn to help the poor of this country succeed, and other than financial help I want to educate them and give them morals. My sister's professor once said:

And I agree. Thus, bookish knowledge is not important. I want to teach people morals and ethic, the true improtance. I want to tell people not to lie, and to make them abide by it. It's for their own good. And oh, a person cannot be a good Muslim unless he/she is a good human. On the Day of Judgement, a man who has denied prayer, charity (rights of Allah) may be forgiven but a person who has denied human rights will not be forgiven unless the victim forgives him. No further reading needed on this one.

But here's where my mother says: 'Darling, you aren't going to study mud. Forget education abroad. Stop thinking about politics - waste of time. Your father already is insane thanks to that. And get off the computer! I want you to study, and that is all'. Agreed, I should study, worry about my country a little less, try not to dream of living abroad since it's not a compulsion of success and use the computer much lesser. But forgetting it - is not me. Then again, I'm being fatuous. This will never happen. My country was born poor, and will die poor. I was born a terrible Muslim and God forbid, but will die a terrible Muslim. I was born a mean girl and will die a mean girl. I was born as Anjum Saleem Sheikh's daughter and will always be.

Yet it seems
If my tears were streams
I could have rained
Every corpse which still pained