Note: This story is based on one of my childhood memories of my loving governess, Jasmine, who was responsible for babysitting and teaching me while I was in kindergarten. I was an accelerated child so I started reading at an earlier age.

Jasmine carried the girl in her arms who was crying like an infant after losing sight of her mother. “I want mommy. I want mommy, mommy,” she cried impotently as the governess addressed her gently while wiping tears from her small and round face. “Your bangs are so beautiful. They fall perfectly on your forehead such that you look like a princess,” she distracted the child further and kissed her left cheek as she sat on the checkered mattress. “She loves me. She is not mom, but she talks so softly. I must behave during this session,” the girl chided herself as she played with the hemline of her frock and nuzzled comfortably on Jasmine’s lap. “What do you want to do now? We should read, shouldn’t we? Which book do you want to read?” she asked the girl while pointing to her six books, which she had been eagerly carrying in her small backpack. Feeling lightened and soothed by her governess’s loving voice, the girl pointed to one book, “Let us read this one. It has pictures and description of a farm. I love farms Jasmine, love them,” she chuckled and rested her head against Jasmine’s bosom. She was a keen reader and as usual she surprised the governess by finishing the entire book in around five minutes. “Wow! You read so fast,” Jasmine exclaimed loudly as the girl played with her really long braids. “Who does your hair, Jasmine?” she asked curiously while caressing her governess’s braids. “Your braids are as thick as ropes. They are so pretty. They complement the shape of your face,” the girl cleverly returned the compliment that was issued to her a while ago. “Thanks! You are such a bright and sweet child,” Jasmine laughed as she closed the book and placed it in her backpack. “Your mom will be back soon and until then we should…,” Jasmine did not end up finishing her sentence because the girl broke down again. “I want mommy, Jasmine. Please, please…,” she cried in a rhythmic and lawless voice that echoed around the room and then wandered outdoors. “Oh! There, there. Let me clean your face. Your nose is running and your cheeks are looking so messy with tears,” Jasmine complained as she picked up the girl and ran to the washroom. She seated her near the wash basin, rinsed her clean hands with tap water, and wiped her face clean. The governess then washed her hands with soap and offered the child some water by cupping her hands. The girl drank the water from her hands like a thirsty pup and started feeling content, relaxed, and loved. “She is as caring as mommy,” she told herself as she threw herself in Jasmine’s arms and decided to nap.

Copyright © by Arzoo Zaheer. All Rights Reserved.

Always Look Back

Note: This is one of my childhood experiences. None of this fabricated.

When I was a child, I prevented someone from kidnapping one of my siblings. The entire incidence is actually an example of telepathy, which exists between family members and loved ones (Expert Biologist Rupert Sheldrake: article, video). When this incidence occurred, I was in grade 4 or 5. We were returning from school and I had decided to run ahead while my younger brother was still several steps away from me. As I got inside my home, I kept getting a nudge at my heart like something was off.

“Where is my younger brother?” A small voice whispered to me.
I answered it quietly, “He is behind me.”
The voice persisted, “Are you sure?”
I started thinking slowly and then replied, “Let me check.”

Despite being so stressed, I looked back; I felt worried when I couldn’t see my younger brother following me. Then, for some reason I started feeling shaky and ran outside. Then, I got a massive shock. A really old woman was forcibly holding my younger brother’s tiny arm. He was crying for help, and I got intimidated for a bit. I analyzed the situation immediately and realized that I wouldn’t be able to shake her off. Thus, I ran inside and complained to one of the men who used to work for my parents. He followed me because he knew I was a serious kid who didn’t like to joke around. We were lucky because we got there in time; he held the woman by her arm as he attempted to free my brother. Later, the police was also called as we found out that she was actually trying to kidnap my brother.

More I analyze this situation, more I realize that the voice inside my mind is something different. I have used it several times as an adult as well. Looking back is a philosophy that every human should apply, especially when it comes to watching over their loved ones.


Copyright © by Arzoo Zaheer. All Rights Reserved.

Something Watches Over Her

Note: This post is based on one of my personal experiences. I think that the following is an example of channeling. I have not learned channeling formally, but I am somehow able to channel unconsciously and consciously. Even if I am not channeling through humans, I feel that something still watches over me. For instance, once I survived an accident and did not get killed simply because I had said a prayer a couple of minutes or perhaps seconds before the accident. 

She joined a group of experienced and passionate individuals who had either experienced paranormal phenomena or were willing to learn about them. For several hours, they shared their expertise and experiences in a very serious manner. By the time their meeting ended, she was exhausted and sleepy. “Let us go out and eat something at the restaurant,” one of them suggested. Despite her need to have a great time with her new friends, she decided to take a break and head home. “I will see you all some other time,” she smiled at them and walked towards the bus station. They waved their hands with a resolute understanding of those who had really seen struggles of life and slowly walked away towards the restaurant.

Thus, she stood alone at the bus station and waited for the bus. Unwillingly, she leaned against the glass and dozed off. Suddenly, something robust, something melodious, and something milky white held and rocked her as energy flew back in her tired and slim body. Perhaps, this rejuvenating experience lasted for a minute or so. As soon as she had absorbed this shared energy, she opened her eyes and smiled. There was nobody else there except for her. Now, she was ready for her long ride back home.

“Who or what was that?” she thought in a puzzled manner as she started walking away from the bus station. “Perhaps, it is not wise to stay in a desolate spot in the night,” she thought as she opened her cellphone and dialed home. “Was I standing in the energy field of someone else who was standing here in the past or was this a warning from one of the channelists of my group? Was something bad going to happen if I stayed here?” she kept wondering as she forced herself to walk calmly towards the nearest mall as she waited for someone to reply to her call.

Copyright © by Arzoo Zaheer. All Rights Reserved.

Is Wife Beating Allowed in Islam?

As a conscious and conscientious adult woman, I do not see my brain being fully functional when faced with verbal or physical abuse─abuse can cause short-term and long-term symptoms that heal slowly and sometimes the victim stays “destroyed” in many ways. This “destruction” does not improve intellect at all and neither does it make the victim’s team more functional. The first thing you should feel after realizing that you have been abused and mistreated is withdrawal and a strong need to escape. If I were a housewife who is being beaten, I would run away and have an affair with someone more caring─you know what I mean.

Mainstream media, governments, and officials started picking on Muslims and Islam after 9/11. Perhaps, they were hoping that this abuse will be met with silence because “abuse causes silence by slowly numbing the minds”─maybe, they don’t know about the health benefits of Aloe Vera. But, Muslims continued to speak out and stand out from the crowd─I commend them for this effort. Despite all these efforts, many folks will still willingly provide you with misleading information such as Islam allows cruel things like wife-beating. I remember reading Prophet Mohammad’s (peace be upon him) saying, “How can you hit your wife and then sleep with her?” When it comes to verses regarding treatment of one’s wife, the real contention is “bad translations”. Islam Awareness provides a thorough explanation by showing how different opinions have been created through varying translations. While mainstream media continues to bombard the Muslims by using ideas that aren’t really being taught by Islam, it ignores or avoids focusing on relevant news from other countries such as Russia’s move to decriminalize wife-beating─Do you know that in the movie Anna Karenina, the protagonist alludes to her country’s misogynist system by saying, “Your husband is a saint and we must all cherish him for Russia’s sake”. To make matters worse, most of us are never being told about how some Islamic organizations like the Canadian Counsel of Muslim Women are offering workshops to engage boys/men to end domestic abuse─these charity organizations don’t have sufficient budget and they still strive to provide clarity.

You know…I Gotcha!

Copyright © by Arzoo Zaheer. All Rights Reserved. 

Breastfeeding Improves Intelligence

I have always felt that breastfeeding improves intelligence because my mom keeps reminding me that she breastfed me for two years. She said that I was unlike other children and used to demand more breast milk from her. One day, I met this young White man while studying inside a Canadian college who once referred to me as “mother” owing to my attitude. Furthermore, I have been noticing that my mood and thoughts sometimes intersect with those of my mother. For instance, once I was sitting in one of the rooms of my parents’ place when I started smiling for some unknown reason; later, I went to a different room to check out what my mom was doing and found her laughing and throwing jokes. I believe breastfeeding is designed to perform miracles in the long run─now do you racists and abusers see the importance of close healthy contact for improvement and development?


Copyright © by Arzoo Zaheer. All Rights Reserved.

I Love Cats

Note: My friends’ cat woke me up early in the morning today. She saw me packing last night and figured out that I was leaving. So she woke me up by 5:30 am. Clever kitty! I love her. This one bows her head so that I may kiss her. Another cat who belongs to another friend hides under the tables 24/7; and, I have to lay next to her to talk to her.

I play a lot with my friends’ cats and for some reason I feel very tuned into them. One of my friends’ cat has a very small head as well as very fragile bones. I don’t feel any fear while touching her because my slim fingers and hands are perfect for this task. And, she loves me! Once, I played with her all night instead of going to sleep. She jumped on my pillow a couple of times; so I had to get up to make sure she does not end up sitting on my face. Today, I have been petting her to make her feel relaxed so that she may fall asleep properly. She sits like a princess and modestly bites and scratches like one. So rare!

For some reason, I feel so happy and satisfied around her and any other cat. The vibes/energies of cats are probably the best music I have ever experienced─I feel connecting with cats is a psychic experience because they really have very strong and amazing souls. I have always felt very close to cats and that’s why I think cats are my sisters and brothers. One of my friends once noticed that one of her cats who didn’t like people that much started acting very sweet towards me after our first meeting. I feel that’s because I can easily welcome even the scariest and quietest cats.


Copyright © by Arzoo Zaheer. All Rights Reserved.


Every thought makes me live
Every thought makes me breath
Every thought creates me
So create me, create me
Oh, you well-wisher


Copyright © by Arzoo Zaheer. All Rights Reserved.

The Moment

Dedication: To my future husband.

Clear deep water stood still, very still
I hear no crickets, no toads, no birds, no wind
I hear no breath, no laughter, no echo
Sweet silence, I truly hear naught

Has the fabled wind stopped stirring?
Have the mystical clouds stopped floating?
Serenity echoed amid the universe, moon, and sun
Justly the world fell silent, in accord with One

As she held his hand and gazed in his eyes
God smilingly pressed pause from up in the skies


Copyright © by Arzoo Zaheer. All Rights Reserved.