Bookay Column - Self


If tonight, you're staring at a wall with a heavy heart then know how to pour it out. Tell
yourself that things like these, sometimes, need a beholder, to be beautiful.
Don't stop looking for people who understand that a painting can be beautiful, even without
If today was a long day at work or university, and no one gave you a warm hug or a moment
of company, know that your favorite coffee mug is just a few kitchen shelves away.
The book that's alone in the last pocket of your bag, is having a tryst with specks of dust, try
taking her out for a date.

The lonesome road you take while walking back?                                                                                                                     It adores your shoes, give it a little more talking for the day.

If right now, you are reading me out, and are messed enough to have reached here, know
that you are loved for the small things you do.
That extra slice of the pizza, you left in the box for your elder sister, just because she had a
hard day at work.
That small poem you wrote for a friend who was feeling sad about something on a cold
That little advice you gave to your brother, only to make him know more about life.
That first conversation you had with a stranger who was sitting alone on the last seat,
looking at the window with eyes which spoke heartache.
That midnight rush to a friend's house, just to help.
The tears you cried when you unintentionally hurt someone who matters a lot to you.
The small words you've written on the last page of your diary, but never uttered out to a fear.
They're all you, and I know how they made you feel.
So, if in this moment, you're turbulent, remind yourselves of the hundred ships you helped
People will tell you that love runs out, books end, and mornings die out to evenings.
Smile, laugh and forget the need to believe them.
I have seen beautiful poems inscribed on tombstones, which speak of eternal and immortal
I have seen beautiful roses, resting on a hundred graves, shouting lullabies of love.
this night will die, make sure you drape it in white and watch it become a morning you crave,
and give away as a piece of love.
The clock is still ticking, and the sound doesn't haunt you now.
You are your music, and if no one in this world dares, hear you by yourself, and give you
words, always, in a letter like this.
An ice cream on a chilly night, a warm hug, or a small note which makes your eyes wet, are all parts of magic.

Let it run your world.


Uzair Ibrahim

The author is a member and a regular contributor on Bookay,a Facebook group that brings readers around the world together.

The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author(s) and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of Muslim World Today.

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