Ahsen Waheed

It was a very hot Friday evening of 1996. In a very common ward of the Combined Military Hospital was born a boy. There were no trumpets blown that day. No angels came from the heavens with baskets of fruits and silks. No astrologers predicated anything. Nothing extraordinary happened to the solar cycles. No mystics appeared. All because he was an ordinary boy lying in the arms of a very ordinary lady.

He was named "Ahsen", that meant "of great quality/qualities" in Arabic.

But he was a common boy, brought up in a poor household of a very ancient city. He never showed any talents in music or dance. Nor was he a genius at calculating numbers.

He was just an average boy going to an average school, studying in a very average class.

But along the way, something very un-average happened.

As that boy grew up, he became aware of the angels and the astrologers. He heard the trumpets and met the mystics. He learned the true meaning of his name and begin to realize it.

Then something more happened to him.

He found magic. Magic of the ordinary. He saw how old men painted with their words and how many ornamented the silence. He saw how the colors would talk and their dialogues were fragrance. He found how evil and virtuous the Sapiens are and what they could and would sustained.

That ordinary boy was astonished by the extraordinary around him.

Then one day, he dreamt of something.

He dreamt of being something out of the ordinary. He dreamt to think and live outside the box. He dreamt to paint with his words and to make his pigments talk.

He dreamt of something extraordinary.

Many years down the line, the little boy (now an adult) experiences the facades and discovers the miseries. He is on his journey to gain a little fragment of that omnipresent 'extraordinary'

Currently, he freelances for a tech website, writes short stories, works on his novel, maintains a blog, paints, reads the Bronte sisters and listens to Indian classical music. He can sometimes be found in the narrow lanes of the inner city fumbling the ruins to seek his roots and discover more of that 'extraordinary.'