For Prayers Can Do Miracles ♥

*gets bored*

*tries to find some activity*

*doesn’t find any*

*sits down*

*sighs*

*feels as if nothing to do*

*closes her eyes*

*feels as if nothing to do strongly*

*steps in another world of what she had been a part of*

*wonders*

*gawks in amusement*

*wanders around*

*finds something shimmering*

*steps forward*

*catches the glimpse of a book*

*stares at the book in astonishment*

*looks intently at the book*

*recalls - the book belongs to her*

*rejoices*

* gets a feeling – “It belongs to me”*

*touches the cover  as if wants to absorb the colors*

*realizes – “Oh! It reflects my memories”*

*opens the book*

*flips the pages*

*glances at the colors that once had been part of her life*

Transparent as Rain. Colorful as Rainbows. Warm as Sunrays. Cool as Twilight. Sweet as Springwater. Velvety as Petals.

*wonders*

*thinks joyously. “have they all been part of my life ?”*

*eagerly touches the colors*

As if she could touch them with her finger tips. As if she could catch the colors with her fingers. As if she could paint her actions again. As if she could live them again!

Aaaah !

Isn’t it like how people want to paint their actions what we called Dreams. Just the shades of dreams. Not as durable & embossed as colors of memories. Now ! here comes the time when one needs all his determinations in bridging the distances from colors to shades. From shades to colors. =).  This journey, from colors to shades & shades to colors, is like striving for life for some people and committing suicide for the others. Some think of it as reachable and some unreachable. Some find it attainable & some unattainable. Some feel it tangible & others intangible. Some take it as opportunity while others find it a challenge. Wisdom or Stupidity. Patience or Agitation. Possible or Impossible.

BUT majorly isn’t it all about Faith In Allah? Belief In HIS Blessings? Trust In HIS Proceedings ♥.

Because this is the treasure with which one can see the invisible, feel the intangible & attain the impossible.

*closes the eyes with an achievement*

*takes up the crux*

*feels with every pour of body as if they are the sense organs*

*smiles*

*closes the book*

*comes back to reality*

*opens her eyes*

*smiles broadly*

It was a wonderful tour of memories. 

A tour of;

Revivals & Realisations.

Indications & Inspirations.

Achievements & Accomplishments.

A firm determination.

A strive for destination.

New schemes of actions.

A heart to win.

An eternity to live.

Yess!! It’s all about Faith.

Faith in ALLAH.

Faith in One’s ownself.

And Yes ! Faith in prayers.

Prayers; A magical milestone for the journey of dreams towards reality.

For Prayers Can Do Miracles ♥

`~ What Is Pakistan? ~`

Pakistan; it’s a piece of land on map for the world. True. Though being born and raised in this so called piece of land bestowed Jinnah’s leadership in my thoughts. Im divinely granted with Iqbal’s dreams in my actions and have Sir Syed’s ambitions in my learning.

I have inherited the struggle of thousands of crusaders who wrote my name in the will of independence with their blood. I owe the sacrifice of Rashid Minhas. I belong to the minerals of Baluchistan, fertility of Indus, beauty of Khyber Pakhtunkhua and food of Punjab.

Pakistan honored me… It gave me a name, an identity, recognition and the confidence of ownership to face the world. My genes and my blood do not allow me to curse Pakistan for terrorism, political instability, and security issues or for losing semi-final to India. 

I don’t know what should I exactly be proud of but I don’t feel any hesitation in acknowledging that Pakistan is my pride, my love and my inspiration. I indubitably belong to it and whole heartedly own it with all its slips and flaws because this is My Pakistan.

PAKISTAN ZINDABAD ♥

My Resolution for Dreaming!

Dream & Keep Dreaming.

Only those dare dreaming who have the spark to get them fulfilled. For dreams are the first step towards reality and happiness. Even if they are not painted as we wish, they leave us with shades atleast that we could color our life with.

Dreams are accompanied with fear but you compliment them with optimism !!

~ Life-stretching Lives ~

Unknowingly humming a lullaby. The lullaby melted with unfathomable wishes that are soaked in responsibilities and wrapped with strength & with some splashes of love, probably the undesired ones. Humming the lullaby and painting the life with obvious colors of death. Intentionally not distinguishing the caption of colors brutally spread on the canvas of liberty. Realising but ignoring the cost of happiness; and ruthlessly trying the new fusion of dangers.

For a tired moment, taking a pause, raising the head and catching the sight of a free flying bird, following its flight with a longing to enjoy thy self but for only a short divine moment. A moment that unwantedly invades self control from the back window of innocence nevertheless ignoring to catch a glimpse, by any chance, of the question marks raised by a crazy soul. Over looking everything around and starting painting again with all its might. Closing the eyes to life’s beauties and continuing smothering it with paint coats. I wonder. I wonder what level of courage, valor, patience and insanity it requires to play such a gamble. Yes insanity too.

If got some spare time, relaxing on the cozy chair of obligations and taking a sip of hot confidence avoiding the cold of confusions and coating another stroke with a calm smile. And challenging life yet again. Putting the brush of revenge in the plate of duties and stealing a moment for one self and searching the drawers to find a twinkling flash. When ended triumphant then sighing with relief holding something in hands; holding the remaining cards from the deck of love. Grasping the moment and holding the breathe while the leftover cards illuminate the concerns & reflect back at its comrade, though still not holding left ones tight =/.

Not wasting another moment, getting up with a fresh zeal of defeating the hopping urge of life and coating another stroke of challenge in the picture. When done with day’s work; noticing the fingers stained with the shades of burden, giving a vicious unforgiving smile and cleaning them with the duster of busy schedule and strategising the new combats.

Humming the lullaby again with soft touchy feel and painting the life with obvious colors of death; with more devotion, more involvement and ever greater master.

The Lost Urge ~

She was so fond of dreaming
I could see her dreams, even from her closed eyes
I was amazed by the vividness
Once
I dared to wake her up, to see the glow in her eyes
But she went blind with the reality
And
I still cant escape the regret of waking her up.

Forever !

The only thing visible at that moment was the ball of extinguishing fire, with grey sky behind it. Flocks of seagulls were returning to their homes. This coalescent among them made me relish their peace and calmness. I wondered if they had ever encountered sorrows or if they were content with their fates. I felt, the ocean today was also frustrated as if protesting against something undesired; because every time a wave greeted my feet it had audaciously borrowed some sand beneath my feet and I had to struggle a little to keep my balance.

I abstractedly shifted my gaze from the angry ocean to the other depth of calmness and the soft being. She was still fixed and motionless on the rock piece as she was some time back. She could easily be deceived for a sculpture; only her black hair and scarf fluttering on her shoulders felt alive. Her sight, I felt, somehow was trying to find something out of the waves ferociously chasing each other. I unintentionally glanced at her for a while and failed to decide if her expressions were more indulged in anguish or the scene I had just witnessed a short time before. This particular-but-now-so-common-picture made me sad more than ever.

I had always been helpless in finding her glittering eyes a way out of this hallow of grief. I could have never managed to forget the vividness of her dreams that always felt dancing in her eyes even when she was asleep and when awake, I had never dared meeting those sparks claiming to be the conqueror of unseen lands. A hurt ached my entire body as a pulse behind the bruises. I took a deep breath and my hand rested on my chest over my heart. I did not understand why she had sentenced her feelings lifelong; this is what I think because she had never confessed or blamed anyone but herself.

Her eyes, once flashy with the brightness of dreams depict the agitation of oceans now. I sighed and stretched my arm to call her back to the reality and hardly touched her shoulder. She lurched as if something pricked her in her profound slumber, probably she was not ready for that disturbance. She turned her head, she glinted me questioningly.
“It’s already evening Jiya, we should be back home by now.” I explained her keeping her transitional mental state in mind. I gasped with pain at her empty face, trying to comprehend. She was the one whose mind always worked and understood with others gestures only.
“Why Haadi?” I stopped myself from shrieking in misery and the unshed tears dissolved in my throat.
“Let’s go.” I reminded her not looking at her.

She tried to get up from the rock she was sitting on. She slipped; I couldn’t understand was it due to the depth of ocean beneath her foot or the depth of her thoughts wandering in her mind. I involuntarily leaned forward to hold her. I clinched her hand and helped her through the clumsy waves. I recalled, I had always asked her to walk on the beach but she every time had so lovingly refused and dragged me to this rocky shore.

I got back to reality when she clenched my hand just a fraction of her grip. I knew she wanted to ask me something. I knew what she wanted to ask me exactly. I held my breath and she did not move either. I knew she wanted me to look at her and it was the least desirable action for me to do with her hand in mine. I had never helped myself forbidding from doing anything she wanted me to do. I was helpless this time as well. I looked at her face trying to avoid meeting her gaze.
“Haadi ! You have forgiven me. Eh?”
I knew she knows the answer. I knew that she knows I won’t say what she wanted me to say. I turned my head to look at her and a painful hurt peeped in my eyes. I turned around to face her and managed a smile somehow. I covered the distance of a step parting us and clapped her frozen cheek soothingly from the other hand and this time I couldn’t help myself looking into her eyes.
“Yes, forever.”
I realized my voice was no more than a mumble. A tear rolled down her cheek and absorbed in my fingers. I, unknowingly, gently wiped off the trail of tear and asked her,
“Should we go now?”
She, after a long time that felt like decades, lifted her eyes and met my gaze. I felt my heart missing a beat and then pounding so fast probably faster than ever. Her hand was still held in one of mine and the other on her cheek and her vigilantly looking into my eyes. It wasn’t delinquency of either of us if I felt this moment as an eternity. Every beat of my heart craved to live this moment for all the times to come. I so wanted to kiss her dull eyes in an urge to color them again with dreams, her lost dreams. It was something foreign to my temper and emotions or it was the height of despair to see her happy. In a moment’s time when I was about to go for it under some trance, the very instant she smiled, raised her captive hand, pulled it from my grip and removed my hand from her cheek with the other. She wrapped my both hands in hers for half a moment and I felt as my life was draining out of my hands. She freed my hands and whispered,
“Yes, forever” that I hardly could understand.

The moment when the meaning flashed on me, my heart sank in the most horrible depth of unsurety. I do not know how long had I been drowning in the other ocean of unseen burn. When I returned to my conscious, the time had come that I always dreaded the most. She was gone. Yes. Forever.

I loved her, she knew that. I wanted to tell her she knew that either but she did not let me confess it. Why? I never understood but it revealed on me the moment I had just lived. Few things are supposed to be comprehended at the particular point of time already defined by the fate. I don’t know the time defined for my disclosure was the best or the worst but it had decided for me.

Now when I’ve been through all this I can’t also deny the fact that the instance of revelation makes everything visible. No matter how much we protest, just like the waves scribbled the lesson for me on the shore, with the sand that it had been taking away all the times. It took me time to realize but there are few questions I still do not manage to find the answers of.

“Love is not mathematics for what figures can be calculated for nor is Fate physics that should be according to some principles then why do they become mutually exclusive when it comes to life.”

Living The Liberty !

Things get organised. Differences can be contrasted. Circumstances find a place in the corners of explanations. Problems also write themselves with the pen of solutions. This is the warmth of relationship that dusts the confusions on walls. But there is a point when feelings cannot be worded. I know, how unsaid words suffocate the souls. Frustration doesn't find a channel to breathe in the twilight of fresh hopes. One is unable to find a way out to the chilly winds, that could freeze the question marks of desperation.

Not uttering the secrecy of emotions although given a chance;
a chance hiding behind the excuses and seeking miracles,
varnishing the existence with ambiguities,
avoiding the dire urge to smell the colors and embracing Ego.
The headstrong foolish ego that leads the one way track to the island of unreasonableness. From existence to non-existence. From reality to illusions. From peace to agitation.

A single lack of courage to draw the lines, the only deficiency to color the dreams and the alone inability to grab the opportunity; an opportunity to figure the emotions. How easily this negligence unties the strings of dreams from the eyes, lingering to the shattered images. Lost in the isle of insanity. Unduly trying to solve the jigsaw of our blunders. Failing to understand. Slicing the palm desperately to engrave a luck line. And tears unthinkingly trickling down the bruised cheeks, soaking in the land of lost freedom. Searching the forgone chance back to the Liveliness. Promising the feelings to provide them with the ease of expression, the delight of words and the liberty of embracing heart, taking leave from ego. But unable to find the lost happiness playing chess in one corner. The feelings relaxing on the cozy sofa as if tired of this one-man-show. Gravely humming the regrets to find a way back to the self.

But time smiling and resting against the trunk of events, opening its box of moments, dipping the finger in the ink of experience and writing mid air:
"Sooner you define the things, better is the life. Because undefined things hurt to infinity."

History sighing at the lesson, hooting in despair and flew back to the past.

My First Story

I own a book. A book with a hard cover. A book with no idea. A book with the most desired  market. But I don't know how would it end up. The only thing that assures me of its success is the first page. First Page : The Brightest One.

I don't think if expression is needed to endure the feelings. Its not that you don't have any idea while everything is so clear. Usually brightness is attributed with beauty & achievement.
Like the stories with shimmering complexity of context are supposed to be a bestseller,
Ideas with creativity are thought to be a success,
Movies with bold characters sound to be a blockbuster.

While I don't have any such story. The only thing I own is a book. The book that does not have any shimmering & complex context. An idea that still has to be pondered. A book portraying the only image of my memories. A cover with the color of my Dreams & the shadows of my Imaginations. A book with acknowledgments. And its the only thing that makes it attractive.

A book that would be a bestseller with an idea that will be an absolute hit following a blockbuster story. A story that is yet to be told, yet to be uttered.  In an urge to find suitable words, they possibly seem to be unspoken forever. Because words can never justify the feelings.

And I don't find words worth the story. The story of my book. The story that projects the single subject. The subject that defines my life. My life that revolves around the only sun. A sun with the rays of feelings. Feelings loaded with care & concern. Such radiated care & concern that form the emoted images. The images that reveal a story. The Story Of My Book.

A story to be heard not to be uttered.
A story to be kept not to be disclosed.
A story to be felt not to be told.

Officially, I don't have any story. Neither idea is creative nor its bold. The only thing I own is a book. A book with nothing. But I still bet it to be a hit. An absolute success. A definite blockbuster. Because if I had any possible reader; it would be you. For none else could understand this untold story.

I don't know how would it end up. But the first page of this story is so bright that overshadows the rest of it. A page dedicated to my life.

My Dreams. The Alive Dreams

No Frost No Fire Its all about Warmth

When the raindrops breathe the cold breeze out, allowing the trees to mumble their secrets. When the softness of the sand on a beach, comforts the troubled mind. When a cold cream coffee soothes the friction of thoughts.

When there are sparkles of concern behind the harsh looks.When the care flashes with the exchange of undue comments.When the fights are laminated with the element of liking. Not admitting the faults. When concern proven, pretending arrogant :)

But still talking & holding hands with twinkling eyes that the gauge does not have any scale to measure beyond.
Leading to the state of tranquility.
Rejoicing the triumph.
So calm & quiet.
Feeling the blow of moonbeams.
Touching the waves of rainbow.
Traveling the glittering rainfall.
Confining the molecules of beautiful memories.

The grip on hands tightens with each argument like the freedom enjoyed with the melody of birds chirping at the dawn.
The knots of feelings strengthen with every fight just as the ease that body feels at the first touch of sun rays in a chilled weather.
The strings of emotions mingle badly when annoyed  the way the peace of mind illuminates the vapors of pleasure.

And ... MY madness peaks with every goodbye, highlighting the earnest urge to touch & ulitmately feel with my heart, the delight of enigmatic happiness. Alive Happiness. Pleasing.  Dynamic. Cheery. Enstatic. Around. Everywhere. All over.

♥.

Spectrum Of A Murmur !!!

Although unveiled but a mystery as yet.  I can feel it absorbed in the airs & dissolved in the surroundings. A mystery that can allure the thoughts under some immense spell.

Busy fighting the sand storm of wishes in the desert of imaginations. Not being able to find the frequency match between the personalities. Despite they are being oxidised by the same element of troublesomely tickling delight. And energies reducing due to the unwanted chemical reaction of our feelings & circumstances. This fission process of logic & emotion is ultra sonic that it has made us dumbstruck of the usual active life around. We are so busy maintaining our inner equilibrium that we are unaware of the most desired world at arm's length. We are so ignorant that we cannot even sound our feelings.

Everything is so pronounced. But when we think of plotting, all these happenings become a mystery. Because, this is a fact.
It's always thought to be apparent as long as we don't want to solve it.
It seems so exquisite till the time we don't want to feel it.
It appears to be accessible when we don't tend to approach it.
It feels to be granted since we don't seek it.

And we can perpetually close our eyes but can never avoid the presence of brilliantly-vivid-sparkling-glow. Either it is confessed and acknowledged or negated and denied. Because to nullify the effects we move wildly & blindly in the opposite direction. And when the loop of life journey completes the 360 degrees, it ends up facing the very particular 'something' as our destination that we wanted to deny the most.

Admitting & Denial may have different meanings but they take us to the same destination. With admission it leads our emotions  & in Denial it captures our thoughts.

Lets Fly In The Ocean ♥

Now I want to be disappointed but what actually I'm through is, a young and fresh hope emerging from the engraved desperation. Cravings & longings are brightened & sparkling with a new zeal & zest. Now what should I call it;

My Utmost Dream Weaving OR The Absolute Negligence of Brutal Reality ?

You want me to hate you. So do I. But we aren't getting the desired results. There is something that hinders your hatred touching my heart. What can it possibly be ? I dunno. But what I know is;
When Optimism be this much alive that it can figure the Non-sighted,
When Trust be this much certain that it can feel the Invisible,
When Destination be this much inspirational that it can challenge all the Confidence,
Then, I wonder, how can it would let the flow of hatred take away the fertile particles of concern that has grown the roots of Care & Belonging deep inside it. That has developed an ever-green plant which is planted with supreme compassion & exceptional inclination.
How can it ever produce the fruits of hatred other than pure love ???

Is it crazy;
Expecting Transparency out of Turbidity,
Hoping Modesty from Egotism,
Wishing Purity from Obscurity ?
One can always extract happiness from a challenge but Happiness Can Never Be Challenged.

You think I am brave. I would be.But I don't find myself brave enough to repel what makes me happy. To avoid what I want. To negate the most desirable existence. And most importantly, To pretend as if I don't care while I do. I absolutely do. And how unfortunate of me that I cannot hide my concern. I cannot express myself the particular way you understand. I donot know what are the rules to follow to prove my existence.
Yess. I still doubt if I even exist for you. Do I ? You can never understand how murderous it feels to be negated by the very person for whom you want to exist the most.

After all this I am justified to hate you & you are worth hatred. I should hate you. You want me to hate you. So do I. But we aren't getting the desired results. Because the flow of hatred can NEVER be so strong that it could take away the fertile particles of concerns that have grown the roots of Belonging. Deep. That gave life to an ever lasting plant. A Plant with the leaves of Fondness & the fruits of Sentiment.

Today & For Always.


And I'll Walk Along My Dreams...!!

The more I try not to think about you, the deeper I drown into my feelings for you. I block my thinking process & the backdrop of your memories appears.I try to forget everything. It works. Everything goes darker except the parts of my life supposed to vanish, indubitably belong you, get more highlighted in this forgetting process. My thinking revolves around what you don’t want to be in its orbits. The focus of my dreams is what you always want to be repelled by even its field. The centre of my memories is what you never want to be around.

Im tired. Im exhausted of detaining all this.

Fighting my feelings.

Denying my urge.

Negating the truth.

Ignoring your existence.

Hiding the concern.

I can’t. Because that’s my life.

I love the axis of my life.

I love the focus of my dreams.

I love the centre of my memories.

I love drowning into my feelings, the deeper everytime.

And I, sometimes, wonder If I Could Touch The Bottom. EVER.

Whatever.

I Love The Life Of My Life.

Through The Prism Of Tears

• I can laugh inextinguishably but the traitor tears always betray me.


• You hurt me. But I donot want you to see the hurt in my eyes. I love you. And I donot want you see the love in my eyes either. <3.


• Just as your inside shouts behind your silence, May be, just a may be, my laughters have veiled my tears.


• I can ask you to forget. But I myself can never. While I wish I could.


• Even I wish. But I can never. Infact I don’t.


• Let me cry. Because my laughters are fueled by my tears.


• Who is more miserable ?A girl with a boy who hurts or a girl with a boy who doesn’t even know that she loves him.

• Although my eyes get teary when I try to laugh but this fact also lies along that my lips twitch in a smile when I want to cry.


• What is it im in ? the dusk before dawn or twilight after evening ????

• Nothing in the world compares the awaiting eyes of an addict & the loving eyes of the drug. That the addiction becomes so severe the only thing demanded is drugging while the freaking drug extends hands towards its fanatic to hold and kiss those ever-beautiful-eyes reflecting its image, feeling as if its embossed forever.

• A destination that is sowed in the fertile land of prayers & ploughed five times a day. Then how can it remain fruitless when comes the time to reap ??? Just keep your baskets ready to collect the happiness after cultivation

Because The Dawn Has to Break !

I'm sure. I'm in a transition phase. For mind, its a phase when you donot want to use the right part of brain. You donot want to interrupt the happenings. I think transition seems to be a term for the material things. The things that have some kind of physical existence. If it is so, then I'm wrong. I'm logically wrong. But I am talking about MYSELF .

My Mental State.
My Psychological Phase.
My Emotional Quantum.
My Thinking Orbits.
None of them has any physical existence. BUT they all are my constituents. They reason my existence. They collectively form my spiritual instincts.

Whatever. But I, physically, am still existing in this real world which is the only thing, that I have, can be in a transition.

Everything was rite. Yaar ! sab kuch theek tha.

That suddenly my mind stuck in an in-between state because of the disturbance of the phasing of my psychology. My emotions left their way to a new quantum of emotions. My thinking left its orbit for a new destination. An undiscovered destination. With no road-map. With zero level of surity. With non-existent evidences. But they still left.They lost their focus. I don't know if they all left for ME or they actually left me. I don't know but they all departed. They really did.

Now,

I don't know if I am into the world or I am outta this world. I don't know if I am into a fight or I have already surrendered. I don't know if I am into a sleep or I have waken up from a long dream. I don't know if I am enjoying a pleasant cloudy day our or I'm blistering under the sun. I don't know if I am reading the preface of a book or I've already been through the closing credits of a movie. I don't know if I have just started or I already finished everything. I really don't know if I have gained a life or I lost the only one I had. The Only Thing I Had. MY LIFE. 

No Worries. You know why ? Because I know ALLAH is with me. HE'll settle my mind to its new state. My psychology will soon seek a new phase. My emotions are just to land in its new quantum and my thinking is getting into its new orbit soon.


I am sure. I am in a transition but I am dead sure I am going to be out of this transition into a stable existence. This transition is necessary. Because darkness makes stars visible. The stars that beautify the sky. The stars that make moon more adorable. The stars that let the sun rays replace them. The rays that lit the darkest corners as well.

Oh ! this transition is blessing. Because it leads to the beautiful, gorgeous & lush island that will no more be undiscovered. An island of blessings. An island of pleasures & happiness.

So what to worry for ? What is left to blame ?? Just the Thankyou for ALLAH. Thankyou for everything.

Twinkling Crystalline Tears

Let the tears trickle.
Don't let them form a pool. Because such pools never dry. They just keep on adding salts till they become an ocean. A calm & quiet ocean on the surface while shocking & chaotic in its depths.

Let the tears trickle.
Don't let them form turbid ponds. Because such ponds never refine. Their stagnancy makes every view blur. A stagnant pond in which every sorrow sinks. Where particles of worries make water even muddier.

Let the tears trickle.
Don't let them irritate the eyes. Because such blisters never heal. The tongs of discomfort pluck the delight & prick the bubbles of dreams. Honoring with always-awaken-like-eyes.

Let the tears trickle.
Don't let them form the crystals. Because such crystals never melt. They just cause a decline of the warmth of emotions till they turn you into an Igloo. A cold and burningly-freezing on the surface. White & breathless from inside.

Let the tears trickle.
Let the tears find their own way. Don't let the tears store.
Let your inside be like spring water.Don't let them make a deep salty dam.
Let your inside be fresh & sweet.

Apart from all this !
When you don't let your tears trickle outta your eyes,
All The Weathers Feel Like Crying.

A Bubble: A Virtual Reality

Like the moon floats in the sky,

As the dreams walk in the mind,

The way wishes wander in the heart,

Just as the urges erupt from the thoughts.

One can always negate the feelings but can't help volunteering it.

Like the heartbeat strikes the walls,

As the mind receives the calls,

The ways words leave the mouth,

Just as the actions sound.

One can always pretend but can never help them.

Like the kids are innocent,

As the rains are pleasant,

The way world around is wonderful,

Just as the flowers are colorful.

One can always from new rules but can never ignore the fact.

Like the shawls in the cold,

As the shades under the sun,

the way umbrellas are for rains,

Just as the laughters in strain.

One has to acknowledge it one day.

Willingly or Unwillingly. Fortunately or Unfortunately. Happily or Unhappily. Agreeably. Approvingly. Courteously. Receptively.

You Have To Ultimately ACKNOWLEDGE It.