Ayesha Quotes

Be the person you needed when you were younger.

Just remember to pack light. Dreams tend to shatter if you're carrying other people's hopes around with you.

It's not enough to find someone you love. You have to be ready for that love, and ready to make changes to welcome it into your life.

Sometimes there were no words, only sunshine on your heart. Alhamdulilah.

To love without wanting to devour must surely be anorexic.

...for surely the food that memory gives to eat is bitter to the taste, and it is only with the teeth of hope that we can bear to chew it. (Ayesha)

What do you see when you think of me, A figure cloaked in mystery With eyes downcast and hair covered, An oppressed woman yet to be discovered? Do you see backward nations and swirling sand, Humpbacked camels and the domineering man? Whirling veils and terrorists Or maybe fanatic fundamentalists? Do you see scorn and hatred locked Within my eyes and soul, Or perhaps a profound ignorance of all the world as a whole? Yet . . . You fail to see The dignified persona Of a woman wrapped in maturity. The scarf on my head Does not cover my brain. I think, I speak, but still you refrain From accepting my ideals, my type of dress, You refuse to believe That I am not oppressed. So the question remains: What do I see when I think of you? I see another human being Who doesn’t have a clue.

[Khalid] took a deep, calming breath, and smiled at her, channeling his inner shark. Or at least, dolphin.

I'm here to do whatever Mademoiselle might desire me to do for her," Ayesha said, in her soft voice. "It will be my pleasure to please Mademoiselle in every way.

Your defect is a tendency to judge everyone,' Ayesha said. 'And yours,' he said with a smile, 'is to willfully misunderstand them.

But so often, joy and beauty were stuck in the same places as grief and shame, and one could not be accessed without the other.

Realize the importance and worth of people in their lives

Life is not a bowl of cherries

Time undermines us

Because while it is a truth universally acknowledged that a single Muslim man must be in want of a wife, there’s an even greater truth: To his Indian mother, his own inclinations are of secondary importance.

The assumptions he saw in strangers’ eyes as they took in his beard and skullcap were painful to acknowledge. Khalid had considered shaving or changing his wardrobe many times over the years. It would be easier for the people around him, but it wouldn’t feel right. This is who I am, he thought.

although our bodies travel by plane, the soul still makes its way on foot.

Feelings evaporate like reek in atmosphere of time

Friendship is priceless, restrictionless, timeless, and boundless

Ayub’s pro- Western outlook, moderate views, and fair complexion, which made him look more British than the British, confirmed his selection as commander- in- chief in January 1951.

Think then what it is to live on here eternally and yet be human; to age in soul and see our beloved die and pass to lands whither we may not hope to follow; to wait while drop by drop the curse of the long centuries falls upon our imperishable being, like water slow dripping on a diamond that it cannot wear, till they be born anew forgetful of us, and again sink from our helpless arms into the void unknowable.

Oh, honey, nobody knows how this thing works. It just happens. Your heart and gut take over, and your mind has to go along with them, because it’s going to happen no matter what. Sometimes you get a sign, and sometimes the sign gets you.

The color of love changeS so many times

Money is not everything

Life is but a game of Hazard

No, she is not with child,” Khalid said tightly. “She’s a virgin, and so am I.” There was a stunned silence among the men. “You’re not supposed to say that out loud,” Mo said. “There are women present.

When they saw the host of chameleon butterflies and the way they both clothed the girl Ayesha and provided her with her only solid food, these visitors were amazed, and retreated with confounded expectations, that is to say with a hole in their pictures of the world that they could not paper over.

I know you won't miss me, I know you won't even bother to ask how i am without you? But still my heart will always call for you, my mind will always think of you because I love you and I will miss you that every moment that I stay without you.

Hahaha!!!...I wish this veil of pretense could hide my habit of dodging quotes but dissapointingly,it doesn't,which is why,I know none yet.

Isn't it funny how we had more fake friends than real friends?

Finally, she understood her father’s disease. It was when the world lost all colour, taste and smell, and one realised the heaviness of one’s body, the uselessness of one’s life.

It could be that any brilliant woman who settles down with a less-brilliant man dulls herself to compensate and console.

He is a person, complicated and confused. Just like you.

But all these traits - style, hygiene, the ability to care for oneself and one's home - are, in a man, considered exceptional, almost miraculous. Whereas in women, they are the bare minimum.

I love you, Ayesha. What would I do without you?" Zorawar said in the platonic way he'd always told her that he loved her. "I love you too, Zorawar. Always have always will." she said ambiguously.

Behold now, let the Dead and Living meet! Across the gulf of Time they still are one. Time hath no power against Identity, though sleep the merciful hath blotted out the tablets of our mind, and with oblivion sealed the sorrows that else would hound us from life to life, stuffing the brain with gathered griefs till it burst in the madness of uttermost despair. Still are they one, for the wrappings of our sleep shall roll away as thunder-clouds before the wind; the frozen voice of the past shall melt in music like mountain snows beneath the sun; and the weeping and the laughter of the lost hours shall be heard once more most sweetly echoing up the cliffs of immeasurable time. Ay, the sleep shall roll away, and the voices shall be heard, when down the completed chain, whereof our each existence is a link, the lightning of the Spirit hath passed to work out the purpose of our being; quickening and fusing those separated days of life, and shaping them to a staff whereon we may safely lean as we wend to our appointed fate. - Ayesha

Mahomet has been extolled by Moslem writers for the chastity of his early life ; and it is remarkable that, with all the plurality of wives indulged in by the Arabs, and which he permitted himself in subsequent years, and with all that constitutional fondness which he evinced for the sex, he remained single in his devotion to Cadijah to her dying day, never giving her a rival in his house, nor in his heart. Even the fresh and budding charms of Ayesha, which soon assumed such empire over him, could not obliterate the deep and mingled feeling of tenderness and gratitude for his early benefactress. Ayesha was piqued one day at hearing him indulge in these fond recollections : " O, apostle of God, " demanded the youth-ful beauty, "was not Cadijah stricken in years? Has not Allah given thee a better wife in her stead?" " Never ! " exclaimed Mahomet, with an honest burst of feeling — " never did God give me a better ! When I was poor, she enriched me ; when I was pronounced a liar, she believed in me ; when I was opposed by all the world, she remained true tome!

The murder of Pakistan’s first prime minister heralded the imminent derailment of the political process and the onset of a brutal political culture of assassinations, sustained by the state’s direct or indirect complicity.

Sheila left her hand outstretched for another moment, cold eyes locked on his face. Then she slowly pulled back and raised an eyebrow. “I should have assumed as much from your clothing. Tell me, Khalid: Where are you from?” “Toronto,” Khalid answered. His face flamed beneath his thick beard; he didn’t know where to look. “No,” Sheila laughed lightly. “I mean where are you from originally?” “Toronto,” Khalid responded again, and this time his voice was resigned. Clara shifted, looking tense and uncomfortable. “I’m originally from Newfoundland,” she said brightly.

It’s always been like that, I thought, so much gratitude and admiration when a white person speaks a non-white language and only contempt and indignation for non-white people who don’t speak English. The double standards of language learning.

Who and what was Ayesha, nay, what is Ayesha? An incarnate essence, a materialised spirit of Nature the unforeseeing, the lovely, the cruel and the immortal; ensouled alone, redeemable only by Humanity and its piteous sacrifice? Say you! I have done with speculations who depart to solve these mysteries.

Leo Vincey, know now the truth; that all things are illusions, even that there exists no future and no past, that what has been and what shall be already is eternally. Know that I, Ayesha, am but a magic wraith, foul when thou seest me foul, fair when thou seest me fair; a spirit-bubble reflecting a thousand lights in the sunshine of thy smile, grey as dust and gone in the shadow of thy frown. Think of the throned Queen before whom the shadowy Powers bowed and worship, for that is I. Think of the hideous, withered Thing thou sawest naked on the rock, and flee away, for that is I. Or keep me lovely, and adore, knowing all evil centred in my spirit, for that is I. Now, Leo, thou hast the truth. Put me from thee for ever and for ever if thou wilt, and be safe; or clasp me, clasp me to thy heart, and in payment for my lips and love take my sin upon thy head! Nay, Holly, be thou silent, for now he must judge alone.

Fragrant was Ayesha's breath as roses, the odour of roses clung to her lovely hair; her sweet body gleamed like some white sea-pearl; a faint but palpable radiance crowned her head; no sculptor ever fashioned such a marvel as the arm with which she held her veil about her; no stars in heaven ever shone more purely bright than did her calm, entranced eyes.

Thus it would seem that Ayesha, great tormented soul, thinking to win life and love eternal and most glorious, was in truth but another blind Pandora. From her stolen casket of beauty and super-human power had leapt into her bosom, there to dwell unceasingly, a hundred torturing demons, of whose wings mere mortal kind do but feel the far-off, icy shadowing.

A veil of pretense can definitely conceal your dumbness but then it assures the proliferation of your dumbness instead of stagnating it by seeking knowledge from others.

Khalid does not belong to Hafsa. He does not belong to you either. He belongs to Allah, and Allah is the One who will determine your young man's fate, as well as yours.

Nana was right --she must let events run their course. Things would work out on their own. Inshaallah.

Sometimes, it felt like I was cutting up my own tongue with a knife and fork before consuming it with that same tongue.

It took forever for my body to adjust. Someone told me then-I can't remember who, probably Naima-that although our bodies travel by plane, the soul still makes its way on foot.

Someone told me then—I can’t remember who, probably Naima—that although our bodies travel by plane, the soul still makes its way on foot.

Always Keep Your Head Up And Dont Let Anyone Tries To Influenced You

Maybe, through these small erasures, which we tell ourselves are ‘polite’ or whatever, we’re covering up a vast network of structural inequality.

It is eerie, the way he knows that what I feel like to him is disposable.

He takes a pacifying step forward, and, on instinct, I move backwards, nearly knocking his painting off its hinges.

He already has, sang the stupid girl in my head that sounded stupidly like reason, he already has.

I trust that whatever he make will be a reflection of his own artistry - I trust him.

I blink, having expecting more resistance.

Are you not my muse?" He askes the question so matter-of-factly they irk me, and I turn on him.

This is simply the plot twist at the end of act four.” -Nana, Chapter Forty, Page 293

All patriotism, in the end, is patriarchal and deadly.

The veil of secrecy shrouding high-profile political assassinations in postindependence Pakistan has extended to information on the inner dynamics of its frenzied history.

Just remember to pack light. Dreams tend to shatter if you’re carrying other people’s hopes around with you.

A good teacher grows, they’re not born.

Love is the law of life," broke in Leo; "without love there is no life. I seek love that I may live. I believe that all these things are ordained to an end which we do not know. Fate draws me on—I fulfil my fate——

Jinnah's "Pakistan" did not entail the partition of India; rather it meant its regeneration into an union where Pakistan and Hindustan would join to stand together proudly against the hostile world without. This was no clarion call for pan-Islam; this was not pitting Muslim India against Hindustan; rather it was a secular vision of a polity where there was real political choice & safeguards, the India of Jinnah's dreams, a vision unfulfilled but noble nonetheless.

But it’s always the friends in the end, isn’t it, who remain to pick up the pieces when the men have gone, leaving destruction in their wake? Still, only the romantic partner is taken seriously. Friends and family will not gather, ever, to celebrate my partnership with Naima—there will be no anniversaries or acknowledgments, no congratulatory cards, no celebratory ceremonies. And yet, it is this slow burning love of female friendship that actually keeps the world turning.

I remind myself that I'm here to have fun, and alcohol isn't a necessary supplement for that I look around the room again, taking in the sights and sounds of the party, and am about to exhale a sigh of relief when a familiar voice washes over me.

Bhutto’s role in the post- 1970 election crisis has to be assessed in the light of the positions taken by Mujib and Yahya Khan, not to mention the structural obstacles in the way of a smooth transfer of power from military to civilian rule in Pakistan.

Recourse to thick narrative detail reveals that the principal hurdle in the way of a united Pakistan was not disagreement on constitutional matters but the transfer of power from military to civilian hands. More concerned with perpetuating himself in office, Yahya Khan was strikingly nonchalant about the six points. He left that to the West Pakistani politicians, in particular Bhutto, who, contrary to the impression in some quarters, was more of a fall guy for the military junta than a partner in crime.

We tend to think that we have only two options in our life; either survive or die. We fluctuate our focus solely on these two ends. But we often forget while traveling between these two ends there is a middle path that we must pass, where we learn ‘To Live.

Pakistan is a visibly perturbed and divided nation. Its people are struggling to find an answer to the mother of all questions: what sort of a Pakistan do they want along a spectrum of choices, ranging from an orthodox, religious state to a modern, enlightened one?

The uneasy symbiosis between a military authoritarian state and democratic political processes is often attributed to the artificial nature of the country and the lack of a neat fit between social identities at the base and the arbitrary frontiers drawn by the departing colonial masters.

Taking the logic of Jinnah's demand to its extreme, Congress now offered him a 'Pakistan' stripped of the Punjab's eastern divisions (Ambala and Jullundur), Assam (except Sylhet district) and western Bengal and Calcutta - the 'mutilated and moth-eaten' Pakistan which Jinnah had rejected out of hand in 1944 and again in May 1946. Such a permanent settlement would at a stroke eject Jinnah from the centre, clear the way for a strong unitary government wholly under Congress's sway, and give away only parts of provinces which past experience had shown lay outside the Congress's ken.

Except in Punjab and the NWFP, the central government’s Kashmir policy had little support in Sindh or Balochistan and even less in East Bengal. Instead of serving the people, civil servants and their allies in the army hoisted the political leaders with their Kashmir petard to become the veritable masters of the manor through autocratic and unconstitutional means.

In the absence of democratic politics, the dominance of a predominantly Punjabi civil bureaucracy and army heightened the grievances of non-Punjabi provinces and the linguistic groups within them. Te entrenched institutional supremacy of a Punjabi army and federal bureaucracy, not Punjab’s dominance over other provinces per se, had emerged as the principal impediment to restoring democratic processes in Pakistan.

In Iqbal’s view, the only purpose of the state in Islam was to establish a “spiritual democracy” by implementing the principles of equality, solidarity, and freedom that constituted the essence of the Quranic message. It was in “this sense alone that the State in Islam is a theocracy, not in the sense that it was headed by a representative of God on earth who can always screen his despotic will behind his supposed infallibility.

Partition severed economic and social links, destroying the political, ecological, and demographic balance it had taken the subcontinent hundreds of years to forge. Yet India with far greater social diversities was able to recover from the shock of partition to lay the foundations of a constitutional democracy. With a legacy of many of the same structural and ideational features of the colonial state as its counterpart, Pakistan was unable to build viable institutions that could sustain the elementary processes of a participatory democracy.

We form these elaborate fantasies of romantic partnerships, Romeos and Majnus who we’ll spend our days and nights with in a passion of rose petals and fireworks, while discounting our non-romantic relationships (if such distinctions can even be made), often more enduring and authentic. We discard them as soon as some man comes along, flashing his teeth and brandishing his penis. But it’s always the friends in the end, isn’t it, who remain to pick up the pieces when the men have gone, leaving destruction in their wake? Still, only the romantic partner is taken seriously. Friends and family will not gather, ever, to celebrate my partnership with Naima—there will be no anniversaries or acknowledgments, no congratulatory cards, no celebratory ceremonies. And yet, it is this slow burning love of female friendship that actually keeps the world turning.

use things not people Love people not things

It wouldn’t be impossible to imagine that Asad Umar had a hand in the Gulalai incident.

With doubts about its ability to survive being expressed both within and outside its freshly drawn boundaries, Pakistan’s insecurities were given full play in fashioning the nation’s history. Using the “two- nation” theory as their crutch, state- sponsored historians wrote histories for schools and colleges as well as for more general consumption that highlighted the tyranny of the Hindu community in order to justify the creation of Pakistan.

For the mainly Urdu- speaking migrants from India who abandoned home and hearth to make their futures in a predominantly non- Urdu speaking country, Pakistan was the land of opportunity. Better educated than most of their coreligionists in western Pakistan, they expected to get the best jobs. Some of these muhajirs, as the refugees from India came to be known, had sensibly moved their money before partition in the hope of starting up new businesses in both wings of the country. The idea of material gain encapsulated in “Pakistan Zindabad” was a stretch removed from the other more loaded slogan, defining its meaning in vague Islamic terms. But for all their claims dressed up in religious terminology, the protagonists of an Islamic state too had their sights on power and pelf in the Muslim El Dorado.

A psychology of looting and disregard for the rule of law took hold of the ruling coterie in Pakistan early on. The initial gold mine was the allotment of properties abandoned by Hindus and Sikhs in Punjab and, subsequently, also in Sindh. Senior civil bureaucrats in cahoots with prominent Muslim League politicians had the pick of the field but did not fail to pass on some of the lesser goods as favors to those with contacts. Individual citizens with little or no influence had to settle for whatever was left over, which in most cases was very modest.

As the commission tartly noted, no two religious divines could agree on the definition of a Muslim. If the members of the commission tried imposing a definition of their own, the ulema would unanimously declare them to have gone outside the pale of Islam. Adopting the definition of any one religious scholar entailed becoming an infidel in the eyes of all the others.

Foreshadowing a decisive shift in the balance of power from elected to nonelected institutions, a mentally and physically unfit Ghulam Mohammed mocked parliamentary practice by appointing a “cabinet of talents” that included General Ayub Khan as defense minister and Iskander Mirza as interior minister with the doyen of the civil bureaucracy, Chaudhri Mohammad Ali, retaining the all- important finance portfolio

With the potentially disruptive issue of the role of Islam in the state temporarily out of the way, the praetorian guard and its mandarin friends sanguinely accepted the constituent assembly’s stance on fundamental rights. As they knew only too well, the proof of the pudding lay in the eating.

Pakistan’s first crop of leaders at the center consisted mainly of migrants from India with limited or no real bases of support in the provinces. Suspicious of their provincial counterparts, émigré politicians at the center focused on consolidating state authority rather than building the Muslim League into a popularly based national party.

The Unionist construct of “Muslim interest” that was eventually incorporated in the Government of India Act of 1935 was a rude shock for minority- province Muslims, accustomed as they were to riding on the coattails of their coreligionists in the majority provinces. The revival of the AIML in 1934 with Jinnah at the helm was a direct result of minority- province Muslim dissatisfaction with the new constitutional arrangements.

Jinnah, the constitutionalist, with an eye on the all- India stage, was on the horns of a dilemma. Much has been made of the transformation of this secular and Westernized lawyer after 1940. Yet Jinnah’s recourse to Islam was a product of political necessity— the need to win the support of a community that was a distinctive category in official and popular parlance but with no prior history of organizing on a single platform. He could not dilate on his real political objectives because what could rouse Muslims in the minority provinces would put off Muslims where they were in a majority. A populist program to mobilize the Muslim rural masses was out of the question. It would infuriate the landed men who called the shots in provincial politics. This is where recourse to Islam made sense to a politician and a party with neither a populist past nor a populist present. Both politician and party needed to steal the populist march on their rivals.

The failure of the Cripps Mission spared the Muslim League from the embarrassment of seeing its main constituents abandon all- India purposes for their own regionally construed concerns.

Contemptuous of all politicians, they were especially wary of a Bengali majority in any future federal constitution. If permitted to secure their rightful place in the governance of the country, Bengali politicians could join their disaffected counterparts in the non- Punjabi provinces to force a change in Pakistan’s Kashmir focused and pro- American foreign policy.

Saying his name out loud is a reminder of everything I've lost. "My boyfriend. I guess he's still my boyfriend." I touch my infinity necklace. "I don't know when I'll see him again. And who's he going to take to prom?" Ayesha's mouth drops open, and she tries to hold in a laugh. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to laugh. I love how prom is on the list right after freedom and breathing." "Oh my God. That's totally ridiculous, right? There are these moments when I still think this place isn't real- like it's a horrible dream. And for that minute, my mind feels free to think about, like, prom." "I get it. We have to have those moments of remembering that we're human and thinking of regular stuff, or else the weight of this place would crush us. Like, have you seen Footloose?

It's as if our being academic equals means we must be inadequate wives and mothers,' says Noura. All of these girls have been called 'intimidating' and 'outspoken' by their Muslim counterparts, simply for being themselves. Their accomplishments usually leave men feeling emasculated, they say. 'It's still going to take Muslim men a couple more generations to catch up and realise girls like us want love, not money,' says Ayesha.

Technically, Sheena predates even Superman, having first appeared in the primordial dawn of comic books in 1937. But her true origins are older than that. Sheena is often described as the female version of Edgar Rice Burroughs’ 1912 creation, Tarzan. The majority of Burroughs’ popular works revolves around a tension between the savage and the civilized, also seen in Sheena’s adventures. Burroughs’ work, like that of fellow adventure writer H. Rider Haggard, came out of the colonial era, and was written for men and boys who yearned for an escape from stifling modern life, through tales of dangerous worlds and exotic women. The common theme of these stories is that a man from the civilized world finds his way to a fantastic, often barbaric, world of adventure, where he falls in love with an intoxicating savage princess. While most of Burroughs’ heroines, like Dejah Thoris or Dian the Beautiful, were in need of rescuing, Haggard’s 1886 novel She introduced a stronger heroine. The novel’s English protagonist encounters the beautiful queen Ayesha, the ruler of a lost city in Africa. Ayesha is referred to as “she who must be obeyed,” and is a creature that provokes both fear and lust. Ayesha was the ultimate fantasy of civilized man: the beautiful, savage white queen, ruling a kingdom unhindered by the laws of modern morality. This brand of men’s fiction produced the swirling foam of exotic and erotic fantasy from which rose the jungle Venus known as Sheena. (...) Now that we have some historical context on these female monarchs, let’s talk about their specific origins. In the 1930s, there were several studios that produced art and stories for the various publishers who were getting into the new field of comic books. One of the most successful and prolific was the Universal Phoenix Studio, operated by two young artists named Will Eisner and Jerry Iger. In 1937, they created a female Tarzan-type character named Sheena for the British tabloid Wags. The strip was credited to the pseudonym W. Morgan Thomas, and the heroine’s name was meant to remind readers of H. Rider Haggard’s She. Demand for new comic book material was growing in the United States, and American pulp magazine publisher Fiction House was looking for material for a new comic book. Sheena made her American debut in 1938’s Jumbo Comics #1, just three months after Superman’s now legendary first appearance. She was the first female adventure character in comic books. This would be just one of her claims to fame.

Sometimes prayers floated upto heaven. Sometimes they hung around here on earth and waited for you.

Khalid forced himself to focus on the conversation, despite his racing heart. The urge to gather her in his arms was overpowering.

زندگی کا ایک اور باب طے ہونے کو ہے سفر کی ایک اور منزل اخٹام پذیر ہونے کو ہے اس دنیا کا یہی اصول ہے اے انسان اب گزے لمحے لفظوں میں بتانے کو ہے لیکن زندگی کا ایک آخری باب کھلنے کو ہے سفر کی ایک اور منزل کا آغاز ہونے کو ہے اب اُن گزرے لمحوں کے ساتھ اے انسا ن رب کے حضور پیش ہونے کو ہے

A part of me feels bad even saying these things. I worry whether, in doing so, I’m falling into the trap of blaming women for their own oppression. But it’s just, I felt like I saw complicity, like I saw willful blindness.

We all want to be happier. Luckily, while 50% of our happiness does derive from our genetic setpoint, and 10% from our life circumstances, a whopping 40% is determined by our own actions, thoughts, and intentions – it’s in our control. Try these practices to build more joy into your life.

Ik denk dat ik domweg te normaal ben. - Ayesha