Wonderful words

11th of Rajab,
As the Gregorian calendar prepares to close its final page on 31st December, the Hijri calendar gently reminds us that the month is Rajab, one of the most sacred months gifted to us. A quiet mercy wrapped in time. Rajab is not just a month; it is a signal. A sacred pause. A reminder that Ramadan is no longer far, that hearts must slowly realign, intentions must soften, and souls must begin their return.

Rajab Shareef the month of Allah. A month where duas rise faster, where forgiveness feels closer, where the heart whispers more than it speaks.

Rajab beej hai, Sha’ban parwarish, aur Ramadan fasal.
Rajab plants the seed, and we are standing right at its edge: hopeful, imperfect, yet willing.

As 2025 unfolded, it came with moments that bloomed and moments that quietly withered. Some connections grew roots, unexpected, warm, meaningful. Others faded away without noise, like sunsets we didn’t realize were our last.
Kuch rishte likhe gaye the, aur kuch sirf padhe gaye. As this year slows down, I also look back at the things that quietly stayed with me, the stories I watched, the words I listened to, the moments I loved without realizing they were becoming memories. Late-night Writings, films, thoughtful interviews, familiar faces. Some stories healed, some distracted, some made me plunged in the World- My hibernation place
“Jo dekha, jo suna, jo mehsoos kiya: har tajurbe ne aahista aahista mujhe, ‘mai’ banaya.“
These moments became pauses in the chaos, little joys stitched into the fabric of 2025, reminding me that even in uncertainty, beauty finds its way in.

This year taught me that not every chapter is meant to stay, but every chapter is meant to teach. There were days of clarity and nights of confusion, moments of laughter echoing through college corridors, and moments of silence that screamed within. We changed: subtly, deeply. Without announcements.

Now, as the year leans towards its ending, there’s a quiet shift in the air.
2026 will be my college graduation year.
A year of lasts that will feel like firsts. Laughter will be loud hiding silent goodbyes, pictures & selfies will be endless, and somewhere between all of it, we’ll realize: this chapter is closing.

After that, everyone will pave for different paths. Different cities. Different dreams. Different versions of life.
“Kaun kahan hoga, kis haal mein hoga, yeh sirf Allah jaanta hai.“

One of the most powerful moments this year was witnessing the pre-eminent victory of Zohran Mamdani, a moment that felt larger than politics, larger than borders. Seeing him rise as the first Muslim mayor of New York was nothing short of historic. It wasn’t just a win; it was representation, resilience, and hope standing tall.
“Yeh sirf ek jeet nahi thi, yeh yaqeen ki jeet thi.“
A beautiful moment that told countless young hearts: you belong, your voice matters,

From The Summer I Turned Pretty In to Zindagi Gulzar Hai, from Conrad to Zohran, Stories of love, growth, heartbreak, resilience, and identity mirrored pieces of my own becoming. Some characters stayed with me longer than expected, some moments felt personal even when they weren’t mine. From Parwana—“hai yeh kaifiyat aisi, dil dekar yeh rote hain, jal jaana gawara hai ke parwaane yeh hote hain”—to Pamal “tere sang chal di main, sochi ek na pal main”; from Sheir “dhoondh raha hoon phir se wahi jo lapata hai raasta”— Tuesday aur Wednesday ka intezaar, aakhri episode ke liye sab tayaar, par jab online stream hi na hua; then it arrived in my gmail inbox; always humble to Fisher, and without even blinking, I switched on the TV, and it turned out to be completely wholesome —to Parwarish, “main kahun dil mera na maane, tere hi peeche aata jaaye.” Do Kinarey mein Dur-e-Shahwar ka fashion, being villan and still looking the most gorgeous was an unreal feel ( LOL:)) And, ofc, being lost in Türkçe Drama, was finding Wholesomeness! (on the way) Aur sabse zyada, 2020 se wapas laut kar Peer-e-Kamil aur Aab-e-Hayat ko firse, ek naye “Mai” ke naye “Nazarye” se muqammal karna, September ki baarishon mein, chai ke cup ke saath: Sukoon aur Fursat ki lambi daastaan hai. Yeh saal fiction aur haqeeqat ke darmiyaan chalta raha.

Here’s to new chapters, sacred beginnings, and endings that feel complete.
Here’s to trusting time.
And here’s to walking into 2026 with hope in my heart and dua on my lips. What remains is gratitude. For 2025. For Rajab. For growth. For LOVE, For losses, For lessons, For Dosti. For becoming. I carry faith. Faith that what’s written ahead will be better, deeper, and more aligned. Inshallah ❤

“Safar jaari hai… aur manzil Allah ke hawale.“

“Kabhi kahaniyon mein khud ko dhoonda, kabhi haqeeqat mein kahani mil gayi. Mazeed haqeeqat hi kahani bann gyi”

And now, with the same quiet excitement, I await FIFA 2026 ⚽️, another shared global moment, another reminder of how stories, whether on screen or on the field, unite hearts across borders.

The year unfolded from stations to destinations, waiting platforms to moving us, routes memorized to roads discovered, switching between placements and places, metro  rides to car jouneys, fifth-sem finals to seventh-sem finals, winters folding into winters, never the same though,  Biryani finding its way back to Biryani ❤

The day began wrapped in haze, the morning swallowed in fog, everything white and slow. By the time we reached college, the air was sharp with winter’s chill, waking us up completely. We walked to the canteen with biryani of special offer( getting full plate each at price of half plate 🤣LOL). Later came chai, unexpected and free, offered with a smile by the bus conductors, and of course we said yes, like it was the easiest decision of the day. Bowls emptied in breaks, cups warmed our hands, and the biryani somehow tasted better with every bite. The hours passed in studying, reading, endless gossip, and quiet joy and little fight. Getting 2025 Year Card and 2026 New Year greeting card, tucked with the mirror, inshallah whenever I’ll look into it , I’ll smile. Everything felt complete: all chapters closed, all fights softened into silence. Between hot chai at the center, a half-prepared exam, forgotten admit card, tension, laughter, prank calls, and calling and talking to our families, our moms were so happy, the day carried every emotion at once. In the chill of an auto ride, Domino’s doors opened to an unexpected reunion, apologies were exchanged, tears fell into poetry and hugs, and over pizza and hot chocolate cake, we carried our heavy hearts back home: full, healed, and grateful.🌙

31.12.2025, Wednesday

“Kaun kahan hoga, kis mod par zindagi le jaayegi; kisi ko nahi pata“

Starting another day with Bismillah, in the name of Almighty and bidding adieu to yesterday with Alhumdulilah.

Allah Hafiz