The eyes of Migrant Workers

After encountering an eye opening journey through parts of Bangladesh and India, there is something which will stick with me for a long time. 

The eyes of Migrant Workers from Bangladesh. 

Yes, the eyes.

I recently went to Bangladesh and after I came back I was asked, Why Bangladesh? What on earth is there to see in Bangladesh? Well for starters, there is earth in Bangladesh. Natural earth. Ever heard of Cox Bazaar? The worlds longest natural beach with Bangladeshis being its tourist. People swimming fully clothed without the risk of children laying their eyes upon xrated body parts.

Secondly, Rangamati, where there is a hanging bridge and you can get boat rides to small Islands where tribal people reside. They speak Bangla but look more oriental - They're known as Chakma people.

There is a lot to see in Bangladesh and the beautiful thing about it is, a lot of it is untouched. It's not very touristic which allows nature to do its job. 

Now about the Migrant workers. 

When I got to Dubai where we had to do a transfer I realised that our gate was full of young Bangladeshi men. 'Migrant workers' I thought and I wasn't wrong. I always knew that Bangladeshi people go to Dubai to find work and I have come across a lot of disturbing articles and videos in recent years about how these Bangladeshis are treated by the Arabs in Dubai. Some are beaten, some have their passports taken away, some get given horrendous jobs. A lot of handsome faces have turned rugged from the hard labour work they do. 

I found it pretty surprising when I discovered Dubai isn't the only place these workers go to. They travel all over the Middle East in hope to make an earning to survive on or to help a loved one get an education or wear something new. 

When getting on that plane it was heart warming to see all these people on their brick phones with happy smiling faces telling their family that they have boarded the plane and will see them soon.

Even when the announcement 'to turn all eletronics off' was said, these people were still making calls. It was pretty funny. 

I was thinking, they probably spent months and months doing hard work and the UAE Dirhams that they earnt would have been spent on this plane ticket to see their family. But it's worth it I guess. I mean, money cannot buy the giggles and smiles these people had on their faces. 

Some have even grasped the idea of Selfies and were taking selfies with the plane seats. To be honest, I do that too. 

Some of the Migrant workers. A few of them did not know how
to use the screens in front of them. 

When the visa forms were given out before landing in Dhaka, many of them looked at the small sheet in confusion. They turned it around a few times looking tensed. Lack of Literacy skills. Most of them couldn't even read. It wasn't long before my dad had 5 forms to fill for 5 different people. Sad isn't it? The simple things in life aren't accessible to everyone. Education, the ability to read and write in one of the worlds most common language. 

Though most of them laughed and sm
iled, you could see through their eyes the hardship they have been through. Going back and forth to a foreign place, being mistreated, living in bad cramped conditions, missing their families and friends. You can see from the structure of their faces how handsome and beautiful they are but the hard work of working under the sun every day had taken its toll on their beautiful skin. They looked older than they actually were. 

I have a cousin. When I last saw him in 2002, he was very handsome. Very light skinned, sharp featured, high cheek bones, structured jaws. I saw a recent picture of him and he was unrecognisable. He has gone dark, marks all over his face and he looks older than he is. He works in Dubai and every morning he is made to climb the side of tall building fixing electrical stuff (which I have no idead about) as the sun reaches its peak.

After a hectic 10 days of moving around Bangladesh and India, meeting and speaking to different people, coming across some of the most loving people who live in some of the most hardest conditions, it was finally time to come back home to London. 

At Dhaka airport as we were going through customs, a young man was pushed to the back of the line by one of the security - Physically pushed on the chest. It made my blood boil. These people need to care for their own. Show some respect. They already get mistreated in the Middle East and the last thing they need is harsh treatment in their home land. 

We went through and saw a big group of ladies in uniform. Yellow clothes and caps. We asked them where they were going. Not anywhere luxurious. They were off to Amman to work in a sewing factory. Beautiful stunning ladies who have to leave their families behind to try and provide the basics by working abroad. 

There is a huge number of Migrant workers in the Middle East from South Asia. How else would the Arab world work? Bangladeshis are very skilled in construction work but its a shame to see that their skills are not used to improve Bangladesh but to build amazing stadiums in Qatar or five star hotel in the Saudi Arabia. 

This is surprising - Something I found out when I was in Cox Bazaar. 

The men in Bangladesh are pretty small. It's pretty cute actually. Especially when you see the armour men wore during the wars. They look like they could be for children.

Anyway, a lot of young boys used to get kidnapped from Bangladesh and were trained to become Jockey's. Their small frame was an advantage for rich horse racers in the Middle East. 

My grandfather was a Jockey but luckily not for the Arabs. 

I have always felt proud of being Bangladeshi especially knowing that my people fought for our land, but after going to Bangladesh I felt a sense of belonging. This is my home, my mother land, the land where my language stems from. This is the place where hard workers come from, the place surrounded by water, the place where Bangladeshis share the same language in different dialects and look completely different according to the region they come from. This is the place where I went to and I will never forget one thing. 

The eyes of Migrant workers.

I hope you got a slight insight in to how hard people in Bangladesh work and the extent they go to so they can make money. Not just Bangladeshis but Pakistanis, Indians, Chinese, Filipinos, go through the same effort to try and make a living. 

I wish I had the power to change lives around so people could live their lives in a bit more ease. 

By Salma Razia Khatun

(Instagram: @SalaamSalma & @SalmaKhatun95)

#PrayForPeshawar

'They went to school and never came back'

That day was a day of sadness and grief

Learning and play turned to a day making hearts bleed.

Morning kisses meant more than it ever did 

And the happy lives walking to school that morning became names on a grid. 

Innocent souls left their bodies looking over the friends who had been shot.

While the friends stared at the lifeless bodies in complete and utter shock.

None of them prepared for a day so horrid

Their parents in distress and very worried. 

Who goes to school with death in their mind? 

Knowledge and power is what we all seek to find.  

But little did they know, that they would become blind

Blind to the world that they had to leave behind.  

Oh Innocent souls, rest in peace

Your status in this world will only increase.

We'll mark the day you died with a moment of silence

And pray they get what they deserve for this act of violence.  

A moment of silence will not change what has happened. 

But at least you will know, the thought of you has not been abandoned.

By Salma Razia Khatun

(Taken from the internet)

Please keep the young people of Pakistan in your prayers and thoughts. 

No person deserves to ripped away from their loved ones. 

Rest In Peace to the innocent souls.

(Instagram: @SalaamSalma & @salmakhatun95)

Journey through Bulimia - Interview of Nazia Khatun

Growing up, our body changes whether we are male or female, whether we like it or hate it, it is something we cannot change. It is the art of nature. With this comes the awakening of our consciousness and young people, especially teenagers become more aware of what their body looks like. Many embrace this change and many want to make more changes such as their height, weight and body image. Some do this the healthy way through exercise and healthy eating and some do this the dangerous way by developing eating disorders.

Nazia Khatun was one of these young teenagers who disliked her appearance but decided it was time to start making changes at the age of seventeen. Unfortunately it was not the right way for a healthy diet. Nazia is now a grown woman who takes pride in her appearance, walks with a strut and has confidence in herself.

An interview was carried out by Salma Razia Khatun where Nazia explained her eating disorder. How and why she became bulimic and what young people should do now for a healthy looking body.

Before self inducing vomiting, Nazia described how her eating habits were like. “I used to eat anything and everything. Breakfast going to school consisted of fizzy drinks, chocolate bars, crisps. At break time at school, I clearly remember I would eat more than the other girls. One doughnut was never enough. Lunchtime was piled with pizza, pasta, and whatever was available that day for school dinners. The odd times if I had food outside for lunch it would consist of fried chicken and chips or greasy kebabs. By 6pm, without a doubt I would head off to the corner shops to get at least two bars of chocolates, more crisps and fizzy drinks.”

Being at a girls only school made Nazia feel normal and alright being chubby. She was good at sports and felt accepted by her class friends and it helped having a baggy uniform which covered a few pounds. But College had changed this for her.

“I saw skinny girls everywhere who looked pretty and their make up was nicely done. They wore nice jeans and tops and then there was me who was in a cap, track suit bottoms and again a baggy hoody. Of course naturally I felt uncomfortable as I was a teenager and at that time hormones are firing away for all reasons. I didn’t get any attention from the boys like the other pretty girls did and a part of me felt very out of place and not attractive all of a sudden. The more unattractive I felt the baggier the jumpers got and every shopping trip consisted of purchasing a cap to hide my chubby cheeks. In essence I wanted to be thin, thin to me meant being attractive and I will get noticed. How wrong was I back then as it lead to a whole load of pitfalls as I grew up.

Surprisingly enough one of my good friends was a male at this period of my life. I clearly remember him telling me he used to purge to lose weight. He explained to me after you eat, you just make yourself sick. I asked how and he replied “by sticking your finger down your throat”. At first I thought this was stupid, but weirdly enough I remember it stayed in my head”.

Bulimia is very common amongst females and around 5 to 15% of males suffer from bulimia This is on the increase and more men are becoming anorexic. Low self esteem and confidence leads to eating disorders. “I was living with so many sisters, some who were slim and petite. Compared to them I felt like King Kong.”

Nazia before and after bulimia.

“Before: I was a happy child growing up. I had no hesitation to eat anything and everything. In fact, my parents used to tell me to control my portion sizes and not to eat too much as they were concerned of my size at the time of my age. Of course this gets to you a little but when relatives used to visit and tell me I was “healthy” it used to play in my head. All of my cousins were of decent sizes and shapes. When you don’t know what normal is you carry on with life as it is. I was very outgoing and always in people’s faces.

After: I admit I became so self obsessed. That period of my life, being so caught up with my self image was the mother of all life for me. The more I looked in mirrors the more hate I found for myself. I loathed my chubby face and fat body. I became very anti social and grumpy. I found my relationship with my family becoming tense as I would argue or snap back at even small things. Being tired, hungry and making myself sick became addictive as I saw the weight dropping. I came down to seven stones and I was obsessed with the weighing scales. By now my parents went from the opposite of telling me not to eat trying to force food down me and I would eat but they knew too well what I was doing.”

Then came the day when something triggered Nazia to think twice about her self inducing vomiting.

“There was a day where I ate fish and chips and laid down on the sofa. Without even having to even self induce I started to vomit. With it I noticed blood. That was the day I thought to myself this had gone too far. I had been self inducing for almost two years in secret and this was definitely a wake up call. It came to a point where I also noticed that even though I was slim and was a size 10 instead of a size 14, I wasn’t getting any opposite sex attention. So it was a lot to do with the mind and how I perceived myself. However I went from one addiction to another. When I discovered the gym I became self obsessed with that and did everything wrong. I would train for hours on end and knew absolutely nothing about exercising other than what I learnt from magazines. I realised even when I had a six pack and was a perfect size, I still felt I was fat in my head. My obsession with calories and food was on an extreme level. This led to awful Sciatica Nerve damage and a very weak back which still plays up till this day”.

Then and now.

“Now I accept myself for who I am and what I am. I had to learn about self love a lot and the power of self love and how it contributed to the rest of my life. Even though I don’t have the six packs and do not train as mad as I used to, I find myself more confident than ever before. As a Trainer now, I am more clued up on how to exercise properly and how to eat properly to main optic health. I used my body as a form of control in the wrong way.

I am not perfect overall and everyday we challenge ourselves to become the best versions of ourselves, and with that comes a lot power and wisdom knowing I had the ability to change and manifest a different mindset to my general well being and health. I haven’t been sick in over three years now and that comes with the knowledge of how to look after myself.

Our health is something we all take for granted until something happens to us.

I run my own business so my lifestyle is very different to the average 9-5 worker. I tend to lead a very balanced lifestyle. I have enough time for family, friends, adventure, love, self time. Generally I find when my health is at peak then all areas of my life is heightened.

There was a point when I became an amateur boxer which was very different for me. I was a young Bangladeshi girl and at the time, it wasn't very common for South Asian girls to take part in physical sports like this. This was the period when my confidence was at its best and its only now at the age of 31 I fully accept my body and am able to thank it for everything I had put it through. Inner confidence is very under rated, and now I have more self belief and do not follow what the media throws at me.

Words of wisdom and tips for the young people who want to get slimmer now.

“Avoid reading magazines, they do not create a reality of health and fitness. You will never be able to create the hour glass or waist thin body as they are photo shopped. Another key thing to remember is that no two people will ever be the same so the diet plans and workouts outlined in magazines do not fit in for everybody. If they were so successful we would see all females walking around with the same body shape and if they were realistic plans, no one would fall off the bang wagon. So listen to your body.

You are already beautiful enough, radiant enough, smart enough so be your own trend setter and seek advice before dieting and exercising”.

Eid un Saeed

The 28th of July marked a special celebration for the Muslim Ummah. It was the day of Eid where Muslims can finally celebrate and eat after fasting for nearly 30 whole days of Ramadan.
However, not everyone could celebrate.
On this joyous day, Israel bombed a park in Gaza where little children were playing and killed most of them. Let's not forget the hospitals, mosques, homes, shops, everything else that they bombed and destroyed. What was this - 'we are not aiming at innocent children' speech?
A few days before Eid, the Assad regime in Syria killed nearly 800 people in the space of two days. We haven't forgotten you Syria.
And the slaughtering of innocent people carried on in different countries.
Central African Republic, Bangladesh, Pakistan, India, Afghanistan, Iraq etc. The never ending list.

I am very fortunate to be living in a city which stays in tact and war doesn't take over. However it is run by Zionists who do not condemn the act of Israel and think that they are infact heroes. Let me correct this. They are the real TERRORISTS!!!

Eid day was joyous for many but the attacks on Gaza were not forgotten for a single minute.
I sat in my room in thought and could hear some kids playing on the street and I decided to write a poem/story about it.
I hope you enjoy it. 

(taken from the internet)

I lean against my bedroom window
Watching the local kids kicking a football on the street
One trips the other over
His team member shouts 'foul'!!!
A small fight breaks out between these boys
But they decide amongst eachother that a free kick can be taken.
I see a mother coming out of her home and I hear her calling for her son.
It's dinner time for them. Family time. It's Eid.
There is a block of flats at the end of my road, and the remaining boys go towards it, two of whom are brothers.
They enter the block and depart from eachother when they have reached their door, their home of residence, their shelter, their comfort.
It's Eid.
All these young kids sit around their perfectly round table, perfectly polished cutlery with their perfect families who hide their sorrows behind smiles. Worries and tragedies of family problems sit behind them as they play happy families.

Change of scene.

I look out through the broken windows of a UNWRA school where I have been taking refuge for the past 2 weeks.
I watch some kids playing football with a piece of rubble from the demolished building near to the school.
One trips over a a rock and the other holds out his hand to help him up. They dust him off and proceed with the game.
The only bit of childhood they can probably have amidst the massacre.

I see a mother coming out of the building opposite and I hear her calling for her son.
It's dinner time for them. Family time. It's Eid.
There is another building not far from the first and the remaining boys go towards it, two of whom are brothers.
As they all walk away, a missile comes flying to the ground on which they were playing.
They start running for their lives.
Shrapnel enters the body of one of the brothers fiercely.
Still he runs
As they approach their building they look up.
Their mother screaming
'DONT COME INSIDE. ANA HABEK YA HABIBI. ASHHADU ALLAH ILAHA ILLALLAH'
And before their eyes, the building falls. Shattered to pieces. 
Somewhere amongst the rubble lays their mother, their father and their baby sister who they had loved so dearly.
Frightened, they hug one another, wide eyed, not even a single tear.
'Ya Ummi. Ya baba. Ya ukhti. Ya Shaheeds. Allahu Akbar.'
Its Eid.

In loving memory of the four young boys who were attacked and killed on
Gaza Beach by Israeli soldiers.
Apparently, they were Hamas's shields. (Taken from the internet)

By Salma Razia Khatun

Twitter & Instagram - @salmakhatun95

Double Standard

For those who read my blogs may be aware that my passion for the Middle East is very strong. And for those who do not read my blogs but aim to start reading my blogs,  will learn that my passion for the Middle East is very strong.

Over the past years (in the past few weeks to be more precise and up to date) it has become very apparent that the media has double standards. According to the media, some news is bigger and more important than other news and some lives are far more important than the lives of young people of a certain religion, ethnicity, age, colour, country, background!

We have all heard the news of Lee Rigby, a British Soldier in the army, who was murdered by two men on a street in London. This murder was on the front pages of nearly all the newspapers in the UK and was the focal point of social networking sites for nearly two weeks - if not longer. 

All the newspapers and news broadcasts emphasised how two (supposedly) Muslim men had killed this man. Were these men not ordinary men who had committed a crime? According to the media, it was important to point out that these men were MUSLIM men. Apparently, one Muslim man's act sets a label for the Muslim nation. Ridiculous!

So, we have all heard of Lee Rigby but what about Nahid Almanea, a woman who was murdered in Colchester because she was a Muslim? 

I will not be surprised if you have no idea what I am talking about. 

A Muslim woman, from Saudi Arabia, studying in the UK, was stabbed sixteen times due to the clothing she was wearing. She was not just in traditional Arab clothing as some newspapers have described (a minority of newspapers), she was wearing religious clothings. The Abaya (Long black lose garmet), the Hijab (headscarf) and the Niqab (veil covering the face only revealing the eyes). Newspapers (such as the Daily Mail) failed to address that this woman was Muslim to avoid their audience from thinking that this was a murder against religion - when clearly it was. Why was it that this Muslim, Saudi Arabian woman got hardly any coverage on the media? Was she not human? Is her life no more important than the life of a soldier, a pop star, another human being?

DOUBLE STANDARD OF THE MEDIA!!!

The three American Israelis who were kidnapped and were missing for nearly two weeks, then later found dead, was all over the media recently. THREE Israeli teenagers had more attention on the media than the thousands of Palestinians who are killed every day!!! 

It is sad that they were kidnapped and killed and left in the woods with no life but this is something that happens daily to other victims and the media doesn't show any of this. If you follow the right people on social media, you may hear about daily killings in Palestine but other than these first hand news sources, mainstream media show nothing. 

I personally think that the Israeli government knew that the young boys were dead before they started arresting and detaining Palestinian people. It is a sly tactic of theirs.

Shortly after they had found these boys, they sought revenge by kidnapping a Palestinian teenager and burning him whilst he was alive. Muhammad Hussein Abu Khdeir, the fifteen year old Palestinian was hardly in the mainstream media and to be honest, the extreme Israelis who murdered him will most probably get away with it. Some news sources say how the Israeli police have arrested six men connected to the Murder of Muhammad, but I would like to see proof. It is probably something they are saying to keep everyone quiet. 

Since the kidnap and death of the three Israeli teenagers - one who was a soldier, more Palestinian children have been kidnapped, beaten, detained and Gaza has been under attack continuously. Muslims are in the holy month of Ramadan where one uses their time to fast and supplicate to the Lord but these Palestinians are grieving daily because of their losses. They are denied good access to food and water and at the time of breaking their fasts, their houses get attacked and raided. 

The only time I have seen the BBC report any news from Palestine was when the cousins of Muhammad Hussein Abu Khdeir, Tarik, was beaten brutally. The news would not have shown anything but he was an American citizen on holiday in Palestine. Hence why America had to do something. But really and truly, they don't give a dahm about this boy. They are too interested in satisfying the needs of the terrorists. Israel.

DOUBLE STANDARD OF THE MEDIA!!!

Palestinian lives are too worthless for them to put on the news. 

Aside these recent events, and the current bombings of Gaza which have not been shown in the media as much, there are more events happening around this world which we are living in. 

There are victims all over the world but in recent conflicts, it seems like Muslims are becoming the victims of murder.
Killings of innocent civilians in Syria which has been going on for more than three years. 
Killing of Muslims in Burma.
 Muslims getting butchered in Central African Republic. 

Muslims getting killed in Sri Lanka. I don't even want to go into depth with what's happening in Iraq. 
It's all getting out of hand. 
Our Western Political leaders are useless along with the leaders of the Arab world. With all the power to stop all this conflict, they sit by and do nothing. 

I wish I had the power to stop all the conflicts in this world and live in peace and harmony. 

"They used to say Palestinians fight like heroes... now they say heroes fight like Palestinians"- Unknown. 

Salma Razia Khatun
Instagram & Twitter: SalmaKhatun95

My Umrah Journey

My Umrah Journey

I was invited to the House of My Lord

I was invited to Salaam My Prophet

So I dressed modestly, brushed up on my etiquettes

Learnt a few prayers and presented myself

When I lay my eyes upon the House of My Lord

My emotions went on a ride

Feelings that poets cannot put in to words

Only emotions are on a high

I cried for days and at night I tried to rest

But resting didn't exist in this city

As this city was always so busy

Makkah, where the House of Allah stands

Where men follow the footsteps of some of the greatest of women

And where women follow the footsteps of some of the greatest of men

(And still feminists fight for equal rights, that this religion has already given)
Circumambulating the Kabah seven times as our Prophet did
Running between the mountains of Saf'aa and Marwa seven times as Bibi Haajira did
Where the endless spring of ZamZam came
And still exists today

It's the closest I've come to My Lord Almighty

Touching the Black Cloth and the Golden Kabah Door

Bashed and bruised by the big men and women

My body was in pain and was sore

The closer I got to kiss the Stone of Forgiveness

The wave of people pushed me away

Three times I tried, till my body gave up

Exhausted and angry

My hopes were still high

I spent my days and nights praying

That's all life revolved around

None of this Westen life drama

That we all seem to gossip about

We climbed Mount Hira early one morning

following the footsteps of our Prophet but with more ease

We reached the top, went through some rocks

And came to the cave where he meditated

High up in the land is where he found solace and peace

Away from the people filled with hatred and greed

The cave where the revelation came from Angel Gibra'eel

IQRA – READ

This is the book that has never been changed since

The Qur'an

I asked for forgiveness

I cried till my eyes were dry

I prayed for the cure of the ill

And prayed for heaven for the deceased

I prayed to Allah to save our Ummah

To help our Martyrs our Shaheeds

I prayed to Allah to grant me Jannah

and for our Prophet to intercede

On the last day of Makkah

With some skills and some techniques

I went with my brother, my Mehram

To kiss the stone to forgive all my sins

I gasped for breath under all the tall bodies

I dived through gaps not letting go of my brother

And before I knew it

I was face to face with the Hajre Aswad

Allah Hu Akbar

I kissed it endlessly

I was reborn but it felt surreal

I felt fresh and dazed

This was me.

I'd done my Umrah, Prayed in the extra part of the Kabah,

Touched the golden door and kissed the Stone

This was me

I was reborn

Madina Tun Nabi

The Land where our prophet was always accepted with open arms

Accepted us also with open arms

From a busy life in Makkah

Madina is where we found peace and tranquility

We went to Salaam our Prophet, Peace be Upon Him, Abu Bakr As Siddique

And the most amazing thing is,

the man who was on his way to kill our prophet even saw the Islamic peace

Umar Bin Khattab

Buried next to our beloved Nabi

The Sahabas and Khaliphs

We went to see our Sahabas in Jannah Tul Baki

The people who fought for Islam

For us

To find solace and to find peace

We visited mountains of wars

Where our Prophet rested his head, hands and knees

Where our sahabas protected our Rasool

And tried to help him in his times of need

Tala al Badru Alaina

Min thaniyyatil-Wada

Wajaba al shukru alaina

Ma da aa lillahida

The white moon did shine over us

The three nights we were there

Madina protected us

Coming back to London was not fair

Salma Razia Khatun

Translations of some of the words:

Salaam – A greeting upon seeing another Muslim

Makkah – Where the House of Allah is

ZamZam – It means 'stop stop'. This is what was said when the spring of water was splashing out from the mountain

Kabah – The house of Allah

Ummah – The Muslim nation

Mehram – A male guardian who you cannot marry (brother, father)

Hajre Aswad – The Black Stone, When you kiss this stone, all your sins will be forgiven

Allah Hu Akbar – Allah is the Greatest

Umrah – The pilgrimage which consists of circumambulating the Kabah and going up and down Mount Saf'aa and Marwa seven times

Madina Tun Nabi – The land of our Prophet

Abu Bakr As Siddique – A dear friend and companion of our Prophet

Umar Bin Khattab – Hated Islam but soon became Muslim. Died as a martyr

The Sahabas – Companions of our Prophet

Khaliphs - The martyrs of Islam

This was a song that the people of Madina sang to our Prophet when he returned to Madina from Makkah. (Listen to it on the youtube clip above)

Tala al Badru Alaina – Oh the white moon rose over us

Min thaniyyatil-Wada – From the Valley of Wada

Wajaba al shukru alaina – And we owe it to show gratefulness

Ma da aa lillahida – Where the call is to Allah

Hope

Hope

And I realised …

There is hope

Hope behind every teary eye, behind every upside down smile, beneath pain

There is hope.

And we doubt ourselves so much, turning our dreams to ash because we don't hope

Well not enough

I used to dream dreams where I was in places that you can only imagine

Have things that money cannot buy

Hoping that one day as the time would fly

It would be a reality

I hoped

But not enough

I kept my dreams as my dreams

Not turning them in to goals

Hoping that hope would do it's job

But it didn't, and it wont

Because hope needs hard work behind it

Every sweat and every tear

The way hope is behind every fear

I need to hope to work hard, work hard then make my hopes my reality.

Only then I can say

I had hope behind my teary eyes, upside down smile

And hope lay beneath my pain.

Salma Razia Khatun