My love for Autumn and a new tag!

#myautumnspace

As the days get shorter, the sunsets earlier and the leaves set alight before carpeting the floor, creating an orange path for me to walk on – I come out of my summer cocoon and blossom into the crisp cold seeking creature that I am. If I was born to love one thing on earth, it would be autumn. 

To say that it’s my favourite season is a huge understatement. There’s just something about waking up to the morning mist settled on my window, stepping out to the fiery palette of the earth and breathing in the crisp cool air that adds the desire to explore a little more to my every day routine.

Each time the season returns, I learn to love a new element of it. But there’s a part of me that has always wondered what autumn is like in the rest of the world.

I can only imagine how each country/region experiences the fall of autumn in a unique way to mine.

Living in the North West of England, I’m particularly interested at how this time of year differs in climates that tend to be warmer – of course I can’t travel the world in the few months that autumn lasts this year (I mean that may be technically possible, but financially near impossible), yet what I can do is experience autumn virtually – and that’s where – #myautumnspace was born. I wanted to create a tag that people all over the world could use to share how autumn befalls in their hometown.

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How to be a part of #myautumnspace:

· point 1, you could use the tag to share a collection of leaves, a photograph of the crisp autumn sky, or simply a write up of what autumn means to you.

· point two, in other words you are welcome to use the hashtag under anything that befits your perception of autumn really.

· I’m always up for a challenge, tag the simplest, or most abstract photograph –

· All autumn lovers are welcome.

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If you are really dedicated, you could also tag your post under the same hashtag (#myautumnpsace) when posting your blogposts too, as I’ll regularly be checking wordpress, hoping to see some autumnal goodness. Hopefully we can come together to see sides of the season we haven’t seen before.

Other seasonal tags I’ve been loving this month are:

– @prettynotinc and @herinternests joint hashtag project #thisautumnlife: the sunday weekly prompts are surprisingly quite inpsiring to my creativity!

– @queenbeady’s #thisishowihueit, which is ‘all about moodier, autumnal tones’

– #pocketsofslow

🍁🍂🌿🌻🌾

// all the best!

Rimsha

Follow my autumn journey and stay updated with regular posts via Instagram

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To contact me regarding a collaboration, or to simply get in touch, drop me an email at: auburnrhyme@gmail.com

 

 

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Why I left Instagram

…& quit blogging

 

It started off with a whole string of events that can occur in any ones life, which just meant that I was too busy to be posting regularly. At some point between the ups and downs, I just didn’t want to post..

As consumers of social media, I think concept that begins to blur the most, is picking out reality from a still shot. Its easy for us to forget that a picture is not an exact representation of a persons whole 24 hours, but a reflection of a single moment. Being a writer, I believe my emotions play the most significant role in the way I construct the images around my pieces.  I always thought I had a pretty fair grip on the writing I shared and the writing I kept to myself, until I got to a point where I didn’t want to share any of it.

I just thought, if my captions wouldn’t hold much – posting pictures for me would be pointless too. Naturally, when I started to feel like I didn’t want to post, blogging was the first thing that stopped. I couldn’t bring myself to share a caption, a long-form blog post was a long shot.

I find it funny to refer to myself as an artist but I think that there is an element of artistry to everything a person creates, and just like an artist – I can go through weeks at a time where I do not like anything I write, make or do in general.

I personally do not feel like I have been exposed to a perfectionist culture. I’m not denying that it exists. It does exist and it’s here, but I didn’t have to be on social media to begin to feel like a part of it. It’s something I’d always held in me.

As if not feeling the part wasn’t enough to stop me posting, I eventually thought that my page didn’t look the part too. I guess you would probably see this as a direct effect of all the meticulous feeds you can come across on a daily basis on the explore page. But I really don’t believe that to be the case. I mean, as far back as I can remember – I’ve always wanted my own personal page to look exactly as I envision it to be in my mind – or a close/better alternative. In school I would tear out countless sheets from my work book after writing a single line if I did not like how my handwriting would look.  At times I would complete the better part of a project and start from scratch again.
And I simply see my Instagram page as an extension of my workbook. It got to a point where one morning I wanted to delete most (all) the pictures from my account. But doing that would be the equivalent of setting three years worth of notebooks on fire,

and I’m not prepared to do that just yet.

If you were to see me right now, I would look to you like the living contradiction of everything you’ve just read about me. Because. Well. I’m not a perfectionist, not in the dictionary sense, not in any sense. I mean, I just spilled some tea on my white t-shirt as I’m writing this and I wholly believe it’s alright to continue to wear a tea stained top around for the rest of the day, and believe me, I will.

It isn’t perfection that I’m looking for, its more a connection. I didn’t like the feeling of  detachment from what I myself had put out there.

Like most creators on the internet, I have an emotional investment with each image and piece I publish to the world. I didn’t wanna have to feel obligated to post. I mean at first posting every few weeks felt a little forced, so I stopped. Not posting at all – well, that felt even better. Natural. And more than that, it was the right thing to do at the time.

I know that saying I just didn’t want to be on here is too weak a case, but it was hard for me to approach a topic that I had not fully come to terms with myself. I think its because we’re taught how to react to more open and direct emotions like anger, but don’t really know what to do with the silent underlying ones.

Being a generally positive person, I didn’t feel like any thing I was posting was positive anymore. So I took sometime away from posting to focus on being in tune with myself, and understanding the vision I had within me. I wouldn’t hold myself as an advocate for the importance of mental health if I really didn’t point out that I DID NEED time, and had to just trust myself in taking the time off and learning more about my state of mind.

I know that the time away has done me a lot of good. The blank posts are there to act like as an indent on my feed. This time, it’s important for me to see the physical break in my page and restart at a place I want to be.

I’m back with my (somewhat) unedited self. I’m not promising better content, nor do I think what I post will be any different from before, but it feels good to be back – and that’s all that counts.

Rimsha

oh wait, this entire essay would make a lot more sense if you followed me on Instagram wouldn’t it?

to contact me regarding a collaboration or to simply get in touch, drop me an email at: auburnrhyme@gmail.com

 

 

two decades and counting //(Birthday Post)

It’s the fifth day of the new year 2017,

a quick google search tells me that on this day 1892, the first successful auroral photograph was made. It also happens to be my birthday. Yes. On this day 20 years ago, I was born.

Though the first framed capturing of the phenomenonal lights a hundred and five years prior to my birth, was certainly not a precursor of my tiny human self growing to be ‘extra ordinary’. I hate falling to pessimism but considering the fact that I have failed to keep up with the very blog that I promised more than once to update regularly – its safe to say that I am by consequence – below the ordinary mark in ordinary regards too.

Impair ordinare, as the French may call it.

Oh, that’s not what the French call it? Pardon moi.

Usually I would type out a list of excuses for my near ghosting as a blogger. Excuses that would start with me saying “you see, the thing is” and end somewhat on a lower note. But today, I’ll try not to make a rhetoric of myself and simply set out the blunt truth.

You see the thing is (oh, but this isn’t an excuse! I promise) when I started out blogging, my ‘motto’ was to provide positive content. I had this idea embedded within the blog post writing section of my mind (yes, it really does exist), in which I had decided that the world and its inhabitants had enough problems to go around, and so if a reader was to take a few moments out of their hectic day to read a post- it should simply make them smile. 

With that came the obvious habit of only sharing the good, but just as I began to write this post- I realised that the ‘bad‘ wasn’t all that bad. Sharing the slightly watered down shades of life could make a reader feel familiar and know that they are not alone in this spectrum of raging intensities.

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My brain lacked any space in the blogging department, because a) a family member got sick b) I’ve been busy accommodating for family and guests arriving from abroad and c) I was struggling with assignments.

The final one felt amazing actually, the struggle of putting the work and long hard hours into an assingment – has always done something for me. I can’t quite explain why the bitter sweet dedication one has to put forth into the process is rewarding. Except that, it just is.

As for b), I have had regular guests and extended family coming to visit from abroad and far away places since as far back as I can remember. I don’t know if its just in our South Asian blood or my dads extrovert personality. Guests from distant lands being around isn’t a surprise change. Though having them around every couple of weeks during term time was a sour inconvenience, it’s the knowing that it is illness that has drawn them which was new.

Speaking of new, a) was new. a) was most definitely new. I’d never had to deal with illness being so close to home before.

Early September brought with it the most foreign feeling my almost twenty year old self had yet to come into contact with.

I am quite adaptable. I cut my thumb one day and walked around with it wrapped in a bloody tissue and folded into my fist  for two hours so that I wouldn’t have to be told off for being clumsy and have my thumb properly checked. I survived over 120 minutes with one thumb instead of two. That’s pretty adaptable if you ask me.

September was no different. I adapted to the shock. To the regular hospital trips. To the completely changed routine.  Though the change along with b) and c) meant that my blog suffered.

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Its been 2017 for a while now, and though I may whisper the odd few new year’s resolutions to myself when nobody’s listening, I generally don’t follow the whole ‘new year, new me’ swing. Here’s why.

I personally don’t deem it as entirely healthy to put immense pressure on ourselves to undergo drastic changes – simply because the clock has struck 12. Though I do not see anything wrong with it in principal, setting goals and standards and seeing the new year as a fresh start is a fairly decent way of kicking your productivity up. But lets face it. When we don’t become the new us we had set out to be, it’s bound to set a toll on you somewhere down the line, mentally at least.

I do have a few ‘works in progress’ that I would like to progress further into this year.

So hi there, trusted blog reader. If you’re still reading this, you should know that I will be posting more regularly.

 

More to the point of this post. I am 20. As of now, I feel just about the same. I mean I’ve been transitioning into the twentieth year since about a year, I’m bound to feel fairly comfortable. I’ve been a teen for so long that knocking the number 1 off the first digit of my age seems a little unfair.

I’m blessed beyond measure, and I have everything to be thankful for. Two decades is a long time to be alive, if I could survive 2016 as a 19 year old – I could pretty much single handedly outlive the zombie apocalypse. 

Which I also think is just extravagantly over exaggerated. I mean it might just be a minion take over of the world and more yellow than gory. 

You should definitely follow me on Instagram if you’re not already and tune in to my insta-story today, where i’ll be sharing the birthday love by telling you my tips for having a good day.

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Phew. This is the most frank I’ve ever been on my blog. I usually curve around my real reasons for being gone.

As I mentioned earlier, if you were here in my absence – I apologise for not being around and you may be going through a particularly shaky time in your life right now,

just know that it will pass – you are strong enough to get through it and get through it you will.

That’s all that matters in the end.

*yes, this was a sparsely illustrated, but certainly a self-illustrated post*

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To contact me regarding a collaboration, or to simply get in touch – drop me an email at: rimsharasul8@gmail.com

Faceless

​I tend not to cross my Instagram and Blog content, but as not all my blog readers follow me on Instagram, this is something I felt I should share on my blog too. 

~

For some, posting under an anonymous guise is thrilling and they see it as a part of their work, an artistic expression (like banksy almost) whereas others may feel that being ‘unknown’ restricts their creative bounds. But for me, it’s much more than just a security blanket or a signature identity. 

As the sole owner of my work, I have the power to manipulate the traffic of judgement on my page. Before you draw your conclusion, no I am not scared; as I would never fear something so naturally human as judgement. 

But my idea behind it is, if we must all judge and be judged, then I wish to be judged, as a writer – on my ability to invoke a readers reaction. Be it anger, fury, love, disagreement or simply confusion – and not on how even the wings of my liner are, or the colour of my iris and the level of crooked in a 2D print of my nose.

My physical features show little sign of my mind and my thoughts, but my words do. The written word holds my imagination, my values and my inner uncensored human. In a world of bars and barriers, I have everything to offer. Which is why for now, I choose to remain –

Faceless. 

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Let’s Blog 

My ideas are usually random and are the product of daydreaming over a cup of tea, however this idea has been brewing in my mind for quite a while now, and that is; Guest Blogging. 

It’s been a year since I created this blog and the idea of guest blogging has always attracted me. Before I begin, I would prefer if the posts were more like ‘swaps’, as me and my posts would need somewhere to go for the time being too.

So, if you’re interested in swapping posts to guest post on my blog (with the post being written and created by you) or to collaborate on a subject and create a blog-post together, or you’re interested in guest posting but have an idea of your own that I haven’t mentioned, then comment on this post and email me at:

rimsharasul8@gmail.com

I understand that the themes and issues on my blog tend to vary between poetry/prose, lifestyle and societal issues (and whatever else I’m feeling on the day) so guest posting is open to any topic & anyone who is interested, however all I ask is that the content of the post is of high quality and that you dedicate sufficient attention to your writing – as I do. 

I hope you’re having a wonderful day and that this rather vague invitation is of some interest to you. Don’t hesitate in emailing me to simply exchange ideas. 

Happy blogging!

Rimsha 🎈

*as always, this too was a self-illustrated blog post*

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How far can forgiveness go?

​As I hold the blade against my wrist,

I wonder, how far can forgiveness go? 

All our lives, we forgive monsters & demons & deserters &  betrayers, 

Time that was cut short, courage that was lost

Incurable diseases

Irreplaceable heart breaks 

Fate that did not give a second chance, 

Suffering that came too fast. 

As the blood began to pool around my feet,

I realise we awarded forgivness to the unworthy, 

But when it came to forgive ourselves, we had none left.

Ambreen Ejaz 

About the poet: It would be odd to describe Ambreen in the third person when her poetry and prose are word perfect reiterations of the thoughts I can rarely pen. Ambreen Ejaz, the name behind the masterpiece – is a Psychology graduate from Pakistan. Ambreen is a friend and fellow blogger, might I mention she is a professional book reviewer. I mean, she’s honest; what more could one ask for in a book reviewer? You can follow her on instagram @ProudPakistanii and follow her blog . 

About the poem: The beauty of this particular piece, is that before sharing the poem with me, Ambreen asked me a rather thought provoking question – how far do you think forgiveness can go? I rambled for what seemed to be an hour and eventually came to the conclusion that we accept the need for fogiveness but when it extends to ourselves, we resist it. 

I adore that Ambreen induces a sense of gratitude towards an individuals ‘self’. She makes the reader come to many realisations in just a few short words, that human nature is not just the selfish brute that poets often make it out to be, but it is also caring and giving – and even in the most purest forms of love; forgiveness – we forget ourselves and put others forth.

Ambreen’s vivid imagery allows the reader to know, that he/she is worthy of forgiveness, just like the ones they have forgiven.

What did you think of the poem? Leave feedback in the comments and be sure to check out Ambreen’s blog 

* this was a self-illustrated blog post *

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