November 5th, 2018 / 4:08 AM

After twelve years of love, the old flame still keeps burning. The sting of nostalgia and everything associated with it is always hard to give up. Like an old city where a person has lived keeps calling him. Again. And again. And yet again. The old city of Flickr.

I still remember the time when sharing a picture was more of a problem. in fact it was as bigger problem as taking a picture and transferring it to your computer was. that is why more genius people started thinking of a cure and came up with a wonderful service called Flickr. The solution was remarkable but the only shortcoming that I faced with it was the number of images that I could share with someone else was limited to 200. But even that did not stop me from uploading the images as I knew that all the images were safe. At least I intended to get a paid subscription in the later years when I can happily enjoy all the pictures that I have uploaded to the service. There are many detailed articles on the Internet that talk about how Yahoo purchased vehicle and then destroyed it eventually selling it to Verizon after a data breach. But even Verizon could not contain the fallout and the fiasco led to people leaving Flickr. The love for photography has not died, at least not yet. That's the reason why I was hopeful when Smugmug bought Flickr in 2018. They have recently paid attention to all those free hoarders which we can find on almost any community and any service who are there only to pollute the beautiful walled gardens. Just look at what they have done to the Facebook Twitter and Instagram. These were really good places just like mountain towns. Now the crowd has destroyed them. The same crowd found free enterprise grade storage of 1 Terabyte on Flickr. They were the people who were least bothered about community interactions in photography. They just wanted place where they can store their photographs and delete them from the computer and save some space. I remember once a property broker came to the hospital. When I asked him where he himself lived, he told of an average neighborhood just to keep him low profile from all the extortionists. A colleague added “why is that posh town so expensive?” The broker replied, “The taps don’t push out milk in that area. The price exists just to keep the filthy poor out.” To this day I remember his ideology. Free is what made Facebook filthy, Android filthy, Twitter filthy, Instagram filthy. You will never find Bahria Town filthy, DHA filthy, Cantonment filthy etc. Flickr was a great. Then the free-minded settlers moved in. This recent price tag push will kick them out just to let those who care about photos stay.


I think it is a good move in the long run and technology giants like Google or Amazon or Facebook or Microsoft should introduce some bundled service which packs some services under one roof. I would be a lot happy if there existed any such a service that has a section for all the tweet-like statuses being streamed and a blog section for longer blog-posts, a photo drive where all photographs one has ever taken are saved (in their original quality) along those cherished screenshots and a video drive where all the videos are safely backed up. Those who care about their data would happily and instantly move to this amazing town. The service would be more ideal if a personal domain can be linked to it. It is very possible. And eventually someone is going to make this service a reality.

Flickr may start looking like a posh neighborhood in future. But that is what I fear too. I seek peace and harmony which sadly is destroyed by free hoarders. My DNA has so much dust collected from the air and lands of Saddar Town and Walton Colony that I might leave the big mansion of a posh neighborhood when everyone else falls asleep, sneak out, take a rickshaw to that old part of the city and sneak into my old home and fall to a peaceful sleep on the cold concrete floor.

Aamir Bilal

 (Zafar Gorakhpuri)

(Zafar Gorakhpuri)

راستے جس طرف بلاتے ہیں

ہم اسی سمت چلتے جاتے ہیں

روز جاتے ہیں اپنے خوابوں تک

روز چپ چاپ لوٹ آتے ہیں

اڑتے پھرتے ہیں جو خس و خاشاک

یہ کوئی داستاں سناتے ہیں

یہ محبت بھی ایک نیکی ہے

اس کو دریا میں ڈال آتے ہیں

یاد کے اس کھنڈر میں اکثر ہم

اپنے دل کا سراغ پاتے ہیں

شام سے جل رہے ہیں بے مصرف

ان چراغوں کو اب بجھاتے ہیں

چڑیل | The Witch

October 8th, 2018 / 4:49 PM

I came across a book while roaming the old bazar. A book about witches. Or better, a book on the subject of witches. The subject has exists in almost every culture, religion and region. Though the ideas, beliefs, myths and ideologies about the evil under the guise of a woman differ. Even the one I was born and raised in has a lot to say about this fascinating subject. From folk tales, dramas, contemporary literature, modern writings to informal gossip, proverbs, urban myths and those evening warnings dadi used to say when we kids wanted to go to the neighborhood park had a talk of this evil figure.

As I grew up, so did that churail (چڑیل). She has lost that horrifying makeover from my earliest perceptions. Maybe those perceptions came into existence from all that was spoken about her. No more exist her hard reptilian skin or her beastly nails. The glowing white or black-hole dark eyes are gone too. She doesn’t levitate in the air or walk on the ground with those inverted feet of hers. The horrifying mask of her has fallen. Out has come the appearance I had never expected. Organic. Staple. And normal. Like any other non-witch being. Only a master with a skill and experience of defeating the evil of a thousand witches and beasts might be able to spot her. The fools of men would never be able to do so, even with a thousand eyes. Perhaps that is the reason why she mixes herself so well in the crowd and ordinary mortals fail to spot her truer self.

Not all definitions you start believing in exist in dictionary. Not all ideas you follow are taught at a school. The experience is, after all, the best teacher. It is that very same experience which helped craft definitions for hard-to-define and impossible-to-define concepts including those of life, death, love, divine and the witch. From the hideous and centuries old reptilian skin has come out a normal and organic witch who looks like any other woman you come across. In her definition, she has been to the universities and beyond. She has a social media presence which she aptly uses for two of the most nefarious purposes - propaganda and stalking. Beyond her apparent modernist ideologies live a centuries old soul, if soul has something to do with her, the beliefs of which would not bend with the fevers of present era. Modern age’s men would not stand a moment before her ancient powers.

At least two of the short stories from my book are on this topic too. This number does not do justice as the number of witches that helped define her out of experience is higher. I know at least a few of them would surely read this. Yes, this is for your eyes. You are the witch for you know the evil under your skin better than any mortal ever can. A few of the witches were kind enough. They didn’t suck blood even after biting, in a very literal way. None of them had inverted feet even when some had feet that incited the foot fetish and helped it evolve. I always wondered what if one day she reveals her true nature and the feet bend backward, would my fetish stay the same or disappear? This itself takes that definition to a new level. What if that horrendous scary skin was not what she removed. What if this is the skin she just wore on to mix among her human preys? But a few witches kept saying that men are dogs. Really, if men had been, they would have seen her true self. I was told dogs see what humans cannot. Maybe the inner dog found a bone in this book bazar. It will help him come up with an evolved definition.

Aamir Bilal

August 26th, 2018 / 7:26 PM


ردیف قافیہ بندش خیال لفظ گری
وہ حور زینہ اترتے ہوئے سکھانے لگی

کتاب باب غزل شعر بیت لفظ حروف
خفیف رقص سے دل پر ابھارے مست پری

کلام عروض تغزل خیال ذوق جمال
بدن کے جام نے الفاظ کی صراحی بھری

قصیدہ شعر مسدس رباعی نظم غزل
مہکتے ہونٹوں کی تفسیر ہے بھلی سے بھلی

بیان علم معانی فصاحت علم بلاغ
بیان کر نہیں سکتے کسی کی ایک ہنسی

حریر اطلس و کمخواب پنکھڑی ریشم
کسی کے پھول سے تلووں سے شاہ مات سبھی

گلاب عنبر و ریحان موتیا لوبان
کسی کی زلف معطر میں سب کی خوشبو ملی

کسی کے مرمریں آئینے میں نمایاں ہیں
گھٹا بہار دھنک چاند پھول دیپ کلی

کسی کے شیریں لبوں سے ادھار لیتے ہیں
مٹھاس شہد رطب چینی قند مصری ڈلی

کسی کے نور کو چندھیا کے دیکھیں حیرت سے
چراغ جگنو شرر آفتاب پھول جھڑی

کسی کے حسن کو بن مانگے باج دیتے ہیں
وزیر میر سپاہی فقیہ ذوق شہی

نگاہیں چار ہوئیں وقت ہوش کھو بیٹھا
صدی دہائی برس ماہ روز آج ابھی

سیاہ زلف گھٹا جال جادو جنگ جلال
فسوں شباب شکارن شراب رات گھنی

ظریف ابرو غضب غمزہ غصہ غور غزل
گھمنڈ قوس قضا عشق طنز نیم سخی

گلابی گال شفق سیب سرخی غازہ کنول
طلسم چاہ بھنور ناز شرم نرم گری

نشیلی ٹھوڑی تبسم ترازو چاہ ذقن
خمیدہ خنداں خجستہ خمار پتلی گلی

گلا صراحی نوا گیت سوز آہ اثر
ترنگ چیخ ترنم ترانہ سر کی لڑی

ہتھیلی ریشمی نازک ملائی نرم لطیف
حسین مرمریں صندل سفید دودھ دھلی

جو اس پہ بوند گری ابر کپکپا اٹھا
اس ایک لمحے میں کافی گھروں پہ بجلی گری

قیامت آ گئی خوشبو کی کلیاں چیخ پڑیں
گلاب بولا نہیں غالباً وہ زلف کھلی

کمال‌ لیلیٰ تو دیکھو کہ صرف نام لیا
''پھر اس کے بعد چراغوں میں روشنی نہ رہی''

عطائے حسن تھی قیسؔ اک جھلک میں شوخ غزل
کتاب لکھتا میں اس پر مگر وہ پھر نہ ملی




August 10th, 2018 / 4:33 PM
Two years is too long to wait for a movie. I have waited for this movie to be released from the day I heard about its story. Some months ago a staff member from TheVerge was invited to the screening of the film. He along others gave pretty good reviews about it. It's class could not be doubted after I came to know that my favourite studio A24 bought its rights to the distribution. Then I wanted the studio to release it as soon as they can. But they kept me waiting. I knew that this movie would never be released in Pakistani cinemas which are home to classless movies.

The subject of the movie is horror and horror itself is a vast subject especially when it comes to the movies. Found footage, monsters, cults, vampires, zombies, psychological horror, etc. All the reviews of the movie up to that point were from the people who were at the screening and they all agreed that the movie is as mind bending and twisted as another horror movie GET OUT. 

I found a pretty decent yet pirated version of the film through a Reddit post but the movie was dubbed in Russian. So I downloaded that sick print which was in English too and then using my low-grade knowledge of video editing, I layered the English audio track on top of that good Russian print. I could not wait any longer. And I watched HEREDITARY. There is no doubt that movie is one mind bending film. People are really discovering new heights when it comes to the genre of horror and this movie proves it. 

The movie is about a family who has recently lost their grandmother. Their days of mourning  extend when the tragedy strikes them again, sooner than anyone expects, including the viewer. As the film proceeds an observer starts to realise that everything is not what it seems to be in the first place. A nasty unseen evil exists which can be felt but not seen. So far this is the best horror movie I have seen in 2018. I really wish that by now there must’ve existed a far better version of the film. Anybody who loves the genre of horror should stop doing whatever they are and should watch this film. Immediately.

A24 does not feel to disappoint once again. 

Twice the same crop

August 5th, 2018 / 10:09 PM

A man in my neighborhood just divorced his wife. That is not a new thing. It's not the first time somebody has divorced his wife and certainly it's not the last time either. The term divorce and the whole dilemma that surrounds it is our social stigma. People are happily accepting bigger monsters yet this word frightens many. It is not just the act that is scary. The repercussions are what go deeper. When one faces a similar situation they don't want anybody else to talk about it as it pertains to them. But when they listen about someone else getting divorced, this talk becomes a favourite topic for them. It itself is the evil polarity that will destroy the society in the end. Polarity will kill as many as global warming would. 

My next door neighbour is a very polite and a humble man. I've not heard any negative air about him which partly is because he does not interfere in the works of either the union or anybody else in the neighborhood. He limits to himself. That is why when I heard that he had divorced his wife after a night of long, loud and scary arguments which started after midnight, I took some time to believe in what the people were talking about. The very next day when I was going for work, I saw that man with a burqa clad woman. Right at the entrance of the building, two old ladies were whispering something to each other and pointing towards my neighbour. I knew that it could not be something good or positive. Obviously the biggest monster in our society is not the vampire who can walk on walls and can suck all the blood out of you in a minute. The biggest monster is not the one who becomes a wolf when the first ray of moonlight hits him. It is not even that unstable mind who would pick up a gun and without a second thought kill the innocents. You guessed it right! It is that man who divorces his wife even if the bridge of the marriage started to collapse at the end of the wife. At the time of this writing, I came to know that he divorced his wife for another woman. 
Nothing new. 
It happens. It can happen. 
That is how humans are. Nobody likes to eat the same thing at dinner for the rest of his life. But my neighbour’s new dinner came from the same restaurant. He married the sister of his wife. The size of the monster grew in the eyes of the society when the people came to know that both of his wives are living in the same apartment and he has not formally divorced the first wife before marrying the second one. It is a twisted society perhaps. I was hungry at the start of day and decided to eat something fancy. However at this moment I am feeling that no restaurant can serve me good. I would skip dinner.  


August 1st, 2018 / 05:51 PM

They don’t understand the waves that reach the shores.

They don’t understand the songs they carry.

They don’t understand the things they speak.

They don’t.

Reset Button

August 2nd, 2018 / 3:30 PM
Even at old age a lot of people want to become young again. There is a price of being young. Of learning and experiencing the same things including troubles and pain. After realising the actual price of starting the life over again, many don't want to press the reset button and give everything up and face the same tortures and the same monsters for another time. Nobody wants to die twice just to be in the same heaven. 
Changing one’s primary method of communication to a newer bridge is not comfortable. Surely has the same price. Without a doubt, the advantage is as enormous as the hardship. I waited for almost 15 minutes in the hall before the realisation hit me. I got up and walked home. I can live with the monster but I don't have either the stamina or the courage to get a new number yet again and start the life from the beginning. I cannot press the reset button. I guess that’s why a lot of men do not develop the same wish you get married once again after marrying for the first time. They can opt for much comforting and easier adventures instead of falling in a pit with fewer hopes of ever coming out of it again. So let’s not press that button. Let’s never press that button.

Image 034.png

The Skin Of A Woman

July 28th, 2018 / 10:55 AM
I peeled the skin of a woman and under that was her truer self. The curious monster who looked so good. There is no doubt that with the charms of those appearance, there would be many fools of men the monster would have pulled and swallowed. A monster, however, lived inside me too. Not as charming and nor as ugly as hers, it saw the broken skin on her outsides. Curiosity made him have a look inside. In the end it was frightened and I was content. My hunch was right. The ugly monster is still alive.

First of July

July 1st, 2018 / 4:24 AM
It’s someone’s birthday. Everyday is someone’s birthday. So is today. When we were together we had a good time. A golden time perhaps. Only if that could be re-lived. But the bigger question is a forgetting. Will either of us forget that again if we relive it? But the question breaks when I realize that I have not forgotten it at all. I have no idea of the other side. If someone comes and sees my end, they will still find my side of the bridge intact. Maybe the same exists on the other end. Yet the bridge fell. It is another why that cracks all the peaceful sleep and harmony. When we were together we once talked about life and afterlife and decided that either of us who stays behind when one is no more should tell the next ones about how many years we stayed in each other's lives. I still believe that silence is not absence, it never is. Has God ever talked to you? Yet when you pray, you think that he is there. The number of years we talked are now less than the number of years we haven’t. I wish the wiser of us was more wise. And I play the role of a fool in most plots. It is the first of July and I wish happiness for the other end of the bridge, even if it has fallen. 


June 24th, 2018 / 4:00 AM

WestWorld’s season two comes to an end. But as it has become a successful franchise, the producers will keep skimming profit from making sequels and spinoffs. The first season Made me watch the very first movie from which the season was inspired in the first. I found the plot of the first season very similar to the original movie which had pretty lame special effects as compared to the modern time. Everybody was talking about the second season but it was not released in a way Netflix releases its Originals. All the episodes were not released on the first day which is why I was waiting for the day when the last episode gets aired and then I can watch the entire season peacefully without any breaks. 

A good idea when always leave some marks on your mind even when you don't want any.
The similarity shown in the drama with that of religious preachings and what effect religion and Society has on the life of a person cannot be missed once you start thinking about the analogy  shown in the drama. Higher intelligent beings create a park for their own dark fantasies which they cannot satisfy easily in their everyday world. To populate that park they create inferior mechanical beings which are posted to play their own roles following repeated narratives. From ancient Greece to the Pharaohs and from the ancient recorded religions to the modern interpretations of Christianity and Islam, the two major religions in the modern day world, this similarity cannot be overlooked. Movies have talked about it, stories exist about it and now another drama which I was waiting for to end also exists about it. Some higher intelligent beings created humans but to keep a check on humans and to keep them human in the first place they introduced the concept of death. So no matter how intelligent or rich you are, in the end you die. No matter how good or bad you are, your life has an end. No matter how famous and how wanted you are, you cannot escape death. Never!

I recently came across the quotation which states that death was introduced by God to keep men from not becoming God. This triggers another that whether the first person to crack the mystery of death and to live beyond the phenomenon of death was a mere mortal who achieved eternal life and became God. But even then that does not give him the superpowers need for creating the entire universe.

There has always existed a curiosity in men from all eras about knowing the creator. Westworld makes you think about the creation of man. A similarity between those Hosts who are merely toys for the satisfaction of those who created them is a scream.  What if the person who is writing this is a toy and the person who is reading it is another and we are just following a story line created by the creator. Then we die and the next day we wake up again with no memory of who we were in our previous lives. I hope this thought and this idea pollutes your mind for the time to come and the creator doesn't reset you before the next role. 


June 10th, 2018 / 00:31 AM

نہ باز آئے یہ لُو اور نہ تن سے جاں نکلے

بجائے زمزمہ بیرونِ لب زباں نکلے


ہمیں بہار کے ہونٹوں کی نرمیوں کے امیں

ہمیں وہ برگ کہ پیغمبرِ خزاں نکلے


جہاں گلاب سخن کے سجائے تھے ہم نے

شرر بھی کچھ اُنہی حرفوں کے درمیان نکلے


زخستگی لبِ اظہار کا تو ذکر ہی کیا

کشش سے جیسے قلم کی بھی اب دھواں نکلے


ہمارا حال جبیں سے ہی جاننا اچھا

زباں سے کیا کوئی اب کلمۂ گراں نکلے


حضورِ یار ہیں وہ جاں سپار ہم ماجدؔ

ہو حکمِ قتل بھی اپنا تو منہ سے ہاں نکلے

بھولی باتیں

June 8th, 2018 / 02:42 AM 

اپنی ڈائری میں لکھی ہوئی کچھ باتیں دوبارہ پڑھیں تو بہت حیرت ہوئی .  مجھے کچھ یاد نہیں کہ یہ سب میں نے کب لکھا .لیکن جوں جوں ایک ایک لفظ میری آنکھوں کے سامنے سے گزرا  ہر پرانی چیزتازہ ہوگی . لوگوں کی کی ہوئی مہربانیاں بھی . اور دوستوں کی کی ہوئی نہ انصافیاں بھی . نہ جانے میں نے یہ سب کب لکھا . اتنی پرانی باتیں پڑھ کر لگتا ہے .کہ شاید وہ کوئی دوسری زندگی تھی . لیکن میں تو تب بھی میں ہی تھا



June 3rd, 2018 / 7:14 PM
I had been reading old writings that exist only on paper during the last couple of weeks. The effort to get things digitized cannot be achieved without mentioning the people that made up life. With time quite many people have become irrelevant enough to not even think about their name at all. That is why I faced a dilemma with only two possible solutions. Either to drop those posts completely that would mention those people. Or I give them some alternative name. Both these solutions have one advantage and one massive disadvantage. To drop the posts, kills the purpose of the task in the first place. And if I give every person a new name, it will become very hard to remember who become who and slows down the thought process and contaminates it. That is when I thought of a very remarkable solution. Doppelgängers. Almost everyone who touched life in any way bears a resemblance to someone popular like a movie star. Thankfully most if not all exes have a doppelgänger in at least one pornstar. The problem is already solved. One adult performed who looked like an amazing lady in life took her own life in December of 2017. Many have already forgotten her. Now everytime when I see that amazing lady already in life, the face of that dead performer pops up. I guess it is not easy to be a doppelgänger and also not easy to know who is whose. Just like not knowing is a blessing, knowledge is a plus too. 


June 2nd, 2018 / 6:51 PM
These ramadan are riddled with hot weather and longer than justifiable fasts. I don’t even have the perks to take a week off from them and I am happy with this path of life instead of the other side. After waking up, I either have too little energy to write down thoughts in a proper way or I am trying to finish all the books and graphic novels that I have already started. This is my 301st post that I promised to publish. I spent the last week reading old diaries and collecting all the events in a way that I can transform them into a digital way and push to the internet where I hope they outlive my biological life. Some scribbles have become irrelevant. Some are too personal. Some are broken. Some triggered regrets. This is the price of nostalgia. It brings not only happy feelings. This is not the first post that I have pushed to my blog today. From the first of Ramadan to yesterday, I made notes of all the posts that I have to post on archive. Five have already been pushed. I hope to get this done sooner and then place my diaries back in the locker. The note-taking stage has been done with. But as I look back into more old days, the written data is less and less. Three weeks of collecting notes and newspapers and then making them ready to be digitized while having long summer day fasts is not easy. But reading old things is reliving days gone-by. You can live the same day for more than once, only if it is better documented.


May 1st, 2018 01:39 PM

Yes, I am lazy. And at times very. But that doesn’t dampen the ideas or the wishes. There is no sin in dreaming anything and no punishment in wishing even something nefarious UNTIL you done with it. That is one privilege of the faith I was born into. The three hundred milestone of unrefined, crude, unpolished writings to post here lay before me. I still have to watch ANON on Netflix. And then contemplate about keeping a beautiful secretary who can type as I dictate to her. There is no harm in dreaming even when sinister and judgemental humans walk around only to judge and only to stalk.

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April 14th, 2018 / 07:38 AM
It is not easy to keep an eye on someone. It is expensive and gets even more expensive as the time passes. We all have our reasons to keep an eye on someone some nasty and some very genuine. A mother keeps an eye on her children and we know why she does so but why would a clingy girl keep an eye on someone, especially when we know that she is clingy. One day many years ago I was searching for a website to start writing something at. I came across a service which at that time did allow posting using SMS. That service was Twitter. Over the years I had a love-hate relationship with it. But eventually thought gradually I stopped using it some years back. I had my reasons which were more than one. Luckily a few of them are married now. But marriage is no guarantee to not keep an eye on someone which as I just told is very expensive. With itself marriage brings a stock of responsibilities which everybody is not equally capable to carry. This is a tiny explanation about why some of the reasons are still the same on the inside even their outer appearances have become uglier and motherly.
 Some years ago I made a new Twitter ID which was anonymous. My primary intent was to interact with new people, because at times I needed new people to talk to and the only new people that I was talking to in those days were my patients. The hospital environment is not like a party but a social space like Twitter is to some extent at least. It is a swimming pool of shit and piss but full of random people who are talking either about some major event happening that appears as hashtag or pure total random talk. Even if you don’t want to join them, you can be an observer and see how a conversation folds out. If you are a silent stalker or sleeper, you can first observe the interaction and then judge the intentions of the people interacting. I thought that if I had a new ID, that would keep a masked and the anonymity would help me vent of my energy. Even today I don't think what I did was religiously, morally, culturally or socially wrong. You can be anyone online. I once became a Muslim Vampire. It was short lived. But not wrong. At least it could not be as wrong as keeping an eye on someone especially after the person you are keeping an eye on is no longer relevant to you. Maybe some people have no good in life left. Somehow three women found out that it was me behind that ID. It is true that I always felt genes of a sniffer(read bitch)  inside them but I thought that they were in lesser amount. Boy I was wrong. 

It was not my first attempt at making an anonymous ID and use that as a mask of anonymity behind which I intended to interact with people. More recently, in 2017 to be exact, I made one more attempt at a new Twitter life. That made my total number of attempt reach 5 out of which three times I was wearing the alter-ego of a girl. Every time I was behind an avatar of a girl, it logically ruled me out of the possibility that I existed on Twitter for some nefarious purpose including the possibility of making a new Twitter ID to exploit someone of the opposite gender. In heels and mascare, I followed boys. I stayed kind to a few of them. I became harsh to a few of them. A positive aspect of it was the growing number of screenshots that I took and kept saved even to this date. All these screenshots were no less than inspiration for dialogues and for stories that I wrote at a later time. The dilemma was that I was not a girl on the inside which is why soon those accounts became stagnant. 

 I felt very bored.

One day, one of the clingy ladies found out about one of those IDs and I had to take down the three of them together. In those days I used to draw pictures after coming to my apartment from hospital. That is why I took the mask of an illustrator in made my second last anonymous ID. But even that adventure was also short lived. 

I know that she knows that I know that she is aware of my anonymous account.
I know that she knows that I know that she knows why I don't use that ID anymore.

I confess that I started liking that illustrator’s identity because the main fuel for it were those pictures that I used to draw on paper and as digital drawing. An interesting thing happened then. An account of a girl followed me who allegedly lived in Rawalpindi. I never asked her what she did but she used to interact liking almost every tweet that I posted. And one day we had an interaction beyond just liking the tweets. It was like any other harmless interaction that happens on Twitter. Harmless and Halal for any curious mind. The interactions never grew beyond a certain point. Then one day she asked me to draw a picture of hers like my other drawings. Even then, she had no idea that who the actual person was behind the account that I used. This is what I used to believe. I was wrong because later on the count of that girl ceased to exist. And even before I had started drawing any picture bearing her resemblance, I came to the realisation that the account I was to draw a picture of never belong to a real person. The same strong feeling exists even today. That ID which interacted with my anonymous ID of illustrator was one of the sleeper probes the clingy women had developed. I am not sure that either it was one of the women or all of them operating that ID. My tweets kept coming after this event but something was changed. The digital existence seemed liked an emotionless space I was floating through. 

The last and the final attempt that I made of living as a an unknown being occurred in the February of 2018. So far nobody has either claimed of discovering me nor any ripples are created from my tweets. Such ripples eventually reach me and make me realize of the leaks that exist. What can Aamir possibly talk about? Poetry, books, medicine, painting, movies, graphic novels, nostalgia, Punjabi music and flirting. He would never talk about Chinese food, artificial jewellery, cruel in-laws and political Gods. These are a few things that the sleepers use to make wild but good guesses. They cannot guess more now. A win for them is a loss too. 

Today marks the day when I have closed all the accounts that I have operated in other names and alter egos. Each one of them except for my original account have been shut down. I made two IDs some years ago to write my memoirs which would be grey and irrelevant for many. They are not taken down because they are still stagnant as I am a lazy soul. I intend to start posting over them sooner. But the stalking sleepers knew about them too. Again, I have no proof just a very rational hunch. The memoirs channels and my original @AamirBilal are like deserted towns. They exist but the air is silent there. I still visit my town from time to time and I see a few familiar faces who have changed somewhat. Time has shown its colors on them. But on the inside they are still the same.

Some sadist.
Some hopeless.
And some are still emitting only negative energy, because that is the only energy they have.

Another confession. It fills me with extreme happiness that one of the IDs that I had been using since 2010 has crossed 70000 tweets. I used to write down my very honest feelings there. Like a notebook. I didn’t expect that one day it would grow to this milestone. Now it has become more of a diary. We know that diaries can be lost or stolen and as I had lost diaries in the past, that is why I am extremely careful with this one. I have already downloaded and printed a copy of all the tweets that I have posted on the ID from as early as 2010. I have zero following and zero followers and 70058 tweets as of this writing. 
 A part of me still loves Twitter but that part of me is very afraid of what Twitter has created and also of what Twitter the people have created now. 

There are some decisions in life for which I always applauded myself. And keeping a lock on my oldest Twitter account is one of those decisions. There only I myself keep an eye on myself and it is not expensive either.

 All the leaks are closed.


Dark Day

March 22nd, 2018 / 11:45 PM / Karachi

This is another dark day. No I am not an Anti-Nationalist. It fills my heart with deep sorrow that another loving face is no more. We always fail to see the beauty we enjoy when all our loved ones are with us but when they are no more we miss the time we spent together. So instead of being thankless, be thankful and enjoy the moments which once gone no wealth and power can bring back. May the soul rest in peace and has a bright hereafter. Amen.



March 17, 2018 / 10:59 PM
Almost all memories that are connected with Lahore are quite explosive. Sadly a few of them are literally an explosion. Yes for every man love at a stage is no less than an explosion. It can be a gossip material to be present only a few hundred yards away from a site of unrest.  but trust me in reality you would never want to be at around place at the wrong time.  I woke up to the sad news of an explosion that took lives of 7 policemen who were stationed at the entrance of a gathering of religious fanatics. This will, for sure hurt some but there are so many rituals which are only keeping the lights on for some high power mullahs and has nothing to do with religion in the first place. I mean seriously if you want to preach something why not preach your religion to a person who is of the opposite belief instead of singing the same sound to a person who might be able to sing a lot better than you. Whether a person is of your belief or not, it does not justify that they be targeted in any way. At least that religion which was taught to me teaches tolerance at all levels. However the religion being preached at most corners now is full of hate and violence the ripple of which reached the place of gathering today. Nobody likes policeman get those who lost lives today for also from the same society and very human and our heart and prayers go out for them. As an observer and as a common citizen, I cannot stop from looking at one obvious fact - why does the wave of trouble rises just before the election. Twice can be coincidence but more than twice he is way more than a mere coincidence. But we have become to blind by our everyday tragedies and our everyday addiction that in less than 24 hours we fail to evolve ourselves as a nation instead of a mass blinded by our own tiny beliefs and led by monsters in beards who dress like clerics. I thought that I was being biased but the feeling faded when I saw the pictures of mullahs in the next morning’s newspaper. They all belonged to different sects but they were standing unanimous and asking the people to vote for them in the upcoming elections. YouTube is an excellent repository for finding videos as a proof of hate speech by many of these mullahs who for sure would never even bother to offer their prayers in the mosque of another sect. Do you think religion is that crazy to divide people? It is the people who are crazy that they let themselves be divided. This divide is the first step which leads to such explosive tragedies. Lahore bleeds again and this makes me sad. 


March 13th, 2018 / 05:43 PM

The subject of paranormal and Ghosts have fascinated people from across cultures. I have come across a new graphic novel. That is the reason why a lot of recent commercially successful movies and dramas are of the genre of paranormal and unexplained. Events of 1947 have divided a bigger piece of land But from my perspective I think that the border is separating people who have different beliefs about ghosts. Sadly the more closer you are towards that border the more possibility of getting contaminated from the beliefs of the opposite side exist. Just look at the people from across the border. A lot of them believe that if somebody is wrongfully murdered and their Aatma comes to take revenge.  I had this question since I was a child whose mind was Somewhat damaged because of these beliefs shown in the movies. So if an Atma comes and murders a man then the Aatma of that man will continue to do the same and eventually everybody on this planet would die. That is one way of saying how the human race will perish and frankly it is a very boring possibility which I cannot believe even if I was living on the opposite side of the border. But all the great religions of the world have talked about the extension of life beyond the moment everybody believes as death. There are many books and debate about what life is and what that actually means. Nobody from the other side has ever called back and told anybody about what and how the other side looks like. Besides it is this obscurity of truth  which takes the hold of fascination of man and pushes him to write about the subject of peculiar. almost one third of the books that I have read revolve around the topics of mystery and paranormal. Many people don't know that there is a dedicated streaming service  for horror movies only. just like Netflix, we have the matchless service called shudder. it is no less than a blessing for somebody who likes horror and paranormal. religion is something majority of people living in Pakistan are very sentimental about. a lot of people have been killed just because their religious beliefs were different.And religion talks about the world hereafter and death which is why our writers and philosophers have polluted the stories they have created with the beliefs they follow. a Pakistani writer always brings someone from the mosque to clear A Haunted House. Who would a Christian man bring in Philippines if a house is Haunted?Just like humans are divided into groups religions and cultures, so are the ghost and all the hideous monsters who appear in our books and movies. When I heard about the graphic novel Djinn, I was a little sceptical because I was raised in a country seeing people fight over language, colour and religion and I thought that the ghost mentioned in the book would be as extremist as the people who created them. Created by Jean Dufaux, Djinn is a story of a girl, Kim who travels to Istanbul in search of answers about her grandmother’s shadowy past. She soon learns that during the declining days of the Ottoman Empire, her grandmother was a harem girl, and the favorite of the Sultan. As she finds more evidence, the mystery thickens and she finds herself dealing with crooked characters and determined paramours in bookshops, baths, and bedchambers all over the ancient city.