A little bit of life for everyone
IN COLLABORATION WITH PYRRHIC EMOTIONS
GOAL
r e t t e G
THE LIFE OF THE PARTY
EDITOR'S CHOICE: A literature masterpiece.
A dedication from mother to son
Just Salmaan EDITED BY FAIQ REHMAN AND MUSKAAN AYESHA
Eudaimonia magazine. A little bit of life for everyone. In collaboration with Pyrrhic emotions.
Special poetry edition. Page 2: The girl in the red street.
Content page: Page 6: Not your home.
Picture by Kelly Lacy. Picture by Mali Maeder.
Page 3: That night. Page 4: Open.
Page 7: The life of the party – Just Salmaan. Page 8: The night sky looks like a tapestry of diamonds. Page 9: Child labour. Page 10-11: This road, Page 12: Cities set in stone. Page 13-14: Editor’s pick: literature masterpiece of the month. Page 15: Yours, only. Page 16: Mommies little boy.
Picture by Ben Taylor.
Page 4: Over worn, overused.
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By Pratik Tagde: The girl of the red street! Wearing black mascara on her lashes, A heavy makeup with a dark lipstick, Hiding all her pains behind her smile. She is graceful, smells like a flower, Her feet can go dancing And her body can bend like water, And every time she proves beauty, power. We have doctors, We have teachers, The scientists and armed forces too. But we all forget about All these women dressed up beautifully To extinguish the lust of all the men And still they are renamed as 'sluts' She charms the universe, She is a Hero not a Slut. But what drove her to the streets? Was it some shattered dream? Or was she helpless and Someone betrayed her for his lust? Does your heart still beat? And would you love, And could you love. If I came seeking for you To save this beautiful girl From the handcuffs of lust. Instagram Id: @pratik.tagde
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By Aastha Bhatnagar: There was a strange calmness in that night The peaceful serenity, was a delight A cool breeze blowing through my hair There was something different in the air The beauty of the full moon astounded me The radiant moonlight set me free As the bright stars twinkled Love all around, they sprinkled As a little time went by The darkness disappeared from the sky Couldn’t hear the crickets like before Since the chirping of birds was more The spreading of bright light had begun As from the east rose the mighty sun You can’t compare the beauty of moon And the sun, as they both sing their own tune. Instagram Id: @despair.mood
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By Talitha K. OPEN for me to find happiness I had to relocate Start to build and renovated a whole new world Filled with color and scented roses Opened doors and windows To let the fresh air in and the sunshine rays So I could feel alive again Like a seedling starting to blossom into a plant Instagram Id: @Talitha.K
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By Agamya Goyal: Overworn, overused Laid for all important occasions Hugged in the midst of all sadness There for sharing my happiest moments I nestle the falling threads of it, pasting them as a smile on my face instead. No care, no work seems enough Tried all magic hands and craftsmanship Blind to all knowing and sad eyes My faithful oblivion masks the futile attempts to preserve it as new. The dreaded time etches closer When Denial, repression cease to help Still consumed by the beauty of our monstrous limbo I just hang on to the last threads in vain Instagram Id: @mangled.musings
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By Sushmita Mazumdar - NOT YOUR HOME –
i usually find myself in this place and i call it " home", this place is ordinary yet it's not, my home is not just a place it's more than I can think of. my home beholds the rare image of me waking up in distress everyday and it is used to my mum's yell, no matter how much it vexed me, it's the only voice that lightens the sombre shade of my unfeigned hue, before I fall asleep every night. my home has that beast who feeds itself on human lies, and it keeps craving for more. it is that constant reminder that alerts me, how I am ought to fight these monsters and not just watch it fill my holes of hopes. i am both overwhelmed and exhausted by the aura around it, so dull yet divine so numb yet alive. my home is not just a place it's a fusion of useless chemicals residing in my head. my home is what I'm familiar with and i know you're not welcome there ‘cause when you say I feel like home, the beast starts devouring the nights become shorter as I lack sleep the mornings end with a rush and I know I'm not your home my home is what I'm familiar with and you're not, ‘cause this place is ordinary and yet it's not. Instagram Id: @_riyahaha 6|Page
The life of the party – Just Salmaan. Muskaan Ayesha.
If you’re familiar with a number of meme, desi or Muslim accounts on Instagram, you’ve probably seen the video that went viral sometime in 2020. The video showed a man walking 5kms for Friday prayer until someone found out where he stays and started fetching him to go to the mosque together. This is an article about that someone: Salmaan Hoosen, or better known as “Just Salmaan” has for years been an inspiration. Personally speaking, his Instagram videos have been funny and inspirational since before I even matriculated. I remember fairly well thinking of how confident he is and how I aspire to reach that level of comfort in public. I never did, but I did find him more and more admirable as the years went by.
do that) and so much more. From Instagram videos, Youtube and now finally Tiktok, there’s been some hilarious, motivational, Ramadhan Islamic and even aimlessly funny content! If there’s any local content creator that deserves a spotlight it’s him. So go follow him on Tiktok : @just_salmaan7 Instagram : @Just_salmaan and @just_salmaan_vids Also subscribe to his Youtube : Just Salmaan.
He’s not only confident in carrying himself but also multitalented. If you look at his Tiktok account, you’ll know what I mean. (I’ll drop the username at the end of the article.) From juggling, to speaking on radio, to making funny content, to magic tricks, to Islamic inspiration and to writing (he wrote for one of the issues of this magazine!) I’ve watched him chase a chicken, do coin tricks, juggle fruit, share Quran recitations, make a parda out of a scarf (Still baffled about how he knew how to
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By Sandeep Acharya The night sky looks like a tapestry of diamonds the night sky looks like a tapestry of diamonds a canvas for someone who borders the points one falls off too soon while others just survive as the glimmering shades are concealed to shy they are too far and too close to their native sky @destined.soul._
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By Shazia Shams. My dreams were buried For the hunger couldn’t wait Just until i get hold of a degree. Not everyone has a choice Child labor is a sad reality
Instagram : speak_out___loud
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By Ishita Mehta. Yes, there is a road that I could not take even though it looked green. I could not take this road for no other reason than the fact that I chose another road. Now I can tell you about the times when I think about how life would be different had I taken the other road. But the thing is I don’t think about this. Ever since I have taken the road I have chosen, I have been only thinking about thiswhile this road is not the smoothest, it sure is a wonderful one. It is through this road that I have come across some of the most mesmerizing sights of my life. So many little things I have been able to experience amidst the chaos. I will admit that sometimes this road feels like it will lead me nowhere in the end but how glad I am that I am wrong every time. As I keep going, I realize that I will get there. Why won’t i? The ones who keep trying are the ones who win after all. Yes, there is a road that I could not take even though it looked green. And this is perfectly okay because 4|Page
I have taken a road that is growing greener with each day of faith and efforts. @poetic_chaos_19
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By Isha Raghav I have not seen cities set in stone. Lately they have become such fragile things that I wonder if alone is the way I am supposed to be. I have not seen faces set like masks, but stretched to laugh, to sigh or gasp, in sharp contrast. I have watched them fall like an axe on my expectations of cordial beings and behavior. It never surfaced through me, that these bodies are Not made of broken rocks, but of wrinkled skin, made for flourishing, exchanging time for less and more! @thepurpleinkpot
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Literature masterpiece of the month. By Komal Aandhiwal. Your hands flicker, frivolously, the pages of the Gita, the Bible the Koran and the Sahib Which, for you, were mere antique possessions handed down by virtue (read vice) of inheritance, Smeared with organic ink, curved in your mother tongue Which obviously you still never understand. Your eyes glancing through them like terms and conditions in a legal document shamelessly hoping that in the evening Wisdom, Moksha, Nirvana and all those prized attainments of humankind, which your mind was conditioned to believe, would drop off like the apple from Newton's theory of Gravity While the negative aura of greed in you is nibbling away your sanity like termites, In gradual silence and open secrecy. When your palms only lift twice, to degrade the living goddess in your home And in worship of a stone smeared with vermilion and turmeric under the Peepal A ritual you only do out of forced habit. How will you ever understand, Wisdom works opposite to gravity. Stemming from the soul, not from the sky. For it comes only when your feet are forever ready to run on even naked glass, in service of a fellow human When your hands lift up in prayers More often of gratitude, than complaints and pleas of tangible material wealth When your tongue no more spews out disgrace and insults, and when your soul Understands genuinely, that the only currency, 7|Page
worth earning and handing down to generations, is that of compassion and love @kayforchaos
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By Muskaan Ayesha. Yours only. Speaking is almost as painful as silence. These days of words, days of calm, days of love, love, love, love; these days no longer embrace me. Your heart that would beat in my palm has left a whispering wail inside of my fingertips. Where is it now? Where have you left the world that you had once placed before me? I cannot force this tongue to morph itself into a confession, and what purpose do these paragraphs serve anyways, darling? You may be the one soul that has reached into the abyss of my mind and whispered sweet nothings to my aching chest. But I? I have been nothing but a little disaster to you. This disaster is fading, my love. I hope that's some consolation to you. I do not expect the universe to bloom in your eyes anymore. If my father was a hero I would have held you to that standard. There is no standard to which I hold you. No bar, no ideals. You are as free as a bird or... as free as a man. And I? I will forever be your distanced prisoner. When your heart yearns to see me, you'll find me here, the same I was years ago, the same girl with clipped wings. Yours only, the woman who tried loving you. @muskaan_ayesha_
Picture by Suzy Hazelwood.
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By Ateeqah Khan. Mommies Little boy Oh, his little fingers And his little toes Getting Bigger Cuter and Sweeter Each and every day His mischievous Yet beautiful smile Lights up the darkest Night Whilst his eyes twinkle like the stars On a starry Dark Night You growing too Fast little one Life may try to throw you down But know that you are never on your own On the dullest of days, My son shine with your brightest Rays I pray You remain in the light All through your life Your tiny fingers Become Gentle hands That you grow up to be a kind man Whose Exemplary Way of life Will stand out even in the darkest of nights Grow slowly little one Have fun In the light of the sun Splash away in the puddles of rain Without fear of any Pain For Your little giggles and naughty little smiles Are the world’s best treasures For Your proud Mum Who wishes you a life full of Fun Happy days in the sun Remember Son... You are for many the light So hold on tight For a beautiful life awaits you Be happy 10 | P a g e
Do not follow the crowds Others will not lead you to the light Just always follow your heart I pray Little one That you remain in the light And always be kind We row in time as mother and Son You’re my little one, I am your mum Our boat is one We row and row Forward into the glory light My Boy, Hold on tight My heart is yours my son Its heartbeat you have heard As a sound so sudden I too have heard your heartbeat Yet you were unborn, son this is our special bond Never feel You are alone For the prayers of Your mum Hover above you Little one For we row together in time as Mother and Son My Love for you knows no Bounds Hold on tight little one for the world is howling Wild and Rough But you are brave and Tough As strong as our love of mother and son We must hold on tight In these times there isn’t much light Your journey has just begun Let it always be filled with fun Tons of joys and toys For all your playful Days But remember Son... As time goes on Life will always put you down But do not cave in little one Hold on tight 11 | P a g e
Walk towards the light Always be kind little one Fill your life with good deeds And Almighty will plant your seeds Of rewards Oh little one, But you are my award We row in time as mother and son Our boat is one Hold on little one For your journey has merely begun We will row And grow together, Filling our days to come With lots of fun Under the sun Mum will love you forever Let’s hold hands and not sever Remember Little boy You will remain Mummies Joy Have fun little one For your Journey has just begun. -A dedication to my beautiful little boy, Hanzalah.
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