She's Out!

wednesday blog word: complete

It was a typical Karachi evening. After the hot glaring sun, the tired city was attempting to rejuvenate itself with a rare breeze, now that the day was complete.

The sun was setting at Sea View, and already, the nighlty crawlers were emerging. A gross sight, over weight women and men… men with their portly looks and overgrown moustaches scratching their groins publicly without any apology; women dressed shabbily, slouching behind their men, with at least three children in tow; with the sound of the azaan, they covered their hair, if it wasn’t covered already, and urged their children to hush. The ragged children, with smeared faces, dirty hair, chewing on something… ignored them, and kept walking on the dirty sand, not knowing the pleasures of the French Beach that lay just less than a half an hour drive away.

On French beach, a crowd was beginning to emerge. With blaring music, foreign beer; or murree brewery vodka bought from a tucked away lane in zamzama. The music began, ignoring the sound of the azaan that was blaring despite everything. The inhibitions lessened, the dancing began. It was Saturday night, after all… time to forget the long week of working, stress, and other social callings. It was time for a line… cocaine was back, after all.


Back on sea view, a different line emerged. The crowds of lumpen proletarians gathered, they were all the same – dirty, slimy – mailas – wondering if they could afford pizza this time – peeeza – they yelped, I want peeza, on TV everyone eats pizza yelled the children. Stand in line yelled the man from the pizza hut van.

The pan stains drew blood on the dirty sand, while they waited in line… the bhutta burnt; the malish walas jiggled their wares, the man with the monkey called Shah Rukh beat the monkey forcing it to dance, and the camel and donkey men tried to get customers.

There were no monkey walas on French beach, oh no. Yes, a donkey or camel man was there now and then, after all the rich kids also liked these humble past times, but here they got paid a lot more.

But the children were long gone and as the cold November air pricked them, they bid audieu to the French beach, without knowing what audieu meant, of course.

Thus the day ended, complete. Until another one began the next day. The same day, the same night. Until tomorrow. Until today.

Wednesday Blog Word: Lal

Lal meri paath rakhiyo balaal jhoole lal aa,
Sindhri dah,
Sehwan dah,
Sakhishaa Shahbaaz Qalandar, Shahbaaz Qalandar,
Haq sakhishaa Shahbaaz Qalandar,
Dama Dum Musst Qalandar, Duma dum musst Qalandar,
Ali dum dum de andaar, Ali dum dum de andaar…

So bored am i.... blogthings.com rocks

You Are a Dragon

You are very charismatic and incredibly popular. People are drawn to your energy, but you are a very difficult person to get to know. You are very active - you are usually hard at work or play. You enjoy drama, and you enjoy anything unusual or eccentric.

What Mythological Creature Are You?

Control

You Are 80% Control Freak

You are a pretty major control freak, though you may not know it. While your confidence is inspiring, your bossy ways tend to scare people off.

Are You A Control Freak?

Rainy Friday Night

Wednesday Blog Word: Decisions

Should I have McDonald’s for lunch today?
After all, I vowed to myself, three weeks ago, (unsuccessfully) that I would refrain and stick to “healthy” food.
But after running around the office for three hours straight I think I deserve it.
Should stick to a regular meal?
I can also make sure I swim an extra 10 laps to cover for the super sized meal.
Should I have a quarter pounder meal?
Or a McRoyale?
Decisions, decisions.

Wednesday Blog Word: Inspire

Will this be enough to inspire me?

Remnants of rain...

view from the jailhouse i call my workplace...

After the storm.

I think I was one of the few lucky people I know who wasn't subjected to the madness of the storm last night. I got home just as the rain worsened, and knowing that I was just two minutes away from home, I decided to drive around like a mad man, for the next half hour, feeling the rain without letting it touch me for even a second, listening to Breathe Me… called a friend, who had the urge to wear a red sari and dance-I advised her, that no, red is not the colour to wear, it’s white-for a Chaandi moment… after which she told me to strip and dance in a pair of white shorts, which I somehow managed to refrain from doing… (somehow)

Getting home, settling down with a cup of freshly brewed coffee, a cheese omelette and Grey’s Anatomy made me realise how easy it is for all of us to ensure our safety, and shut ourselves off from the rest of the world.

Still trying to decide if it’s a good thing or not. Feels like a good thing. Is it?

Wednesday Blog Word: Free

"Give me freedom or give me death."

Although i am sure freedom in Rand's view didn't mean a Musharrafed Pakistan, and morons riding motorbikes with the damned flag... but oh well... misplaced patriotism has its rewards too, I am sure...

Wednesday Blog Word: Space

"I would give the greatest sunset in the world for one sight of New York's skyline. The sky over New York and the will of man made visible. What other religion do we need? I feel that if a war came to threaten this, I would throw myself into space, over the city, and protect these buildings with my body."

Dominique Francon, in Ayn Rand’s The Fountainhead

Wednesday blog word: Rain

Sitting in Lahore for the past week, i missed the rain...

But you can not mention rain without mentioning all those Bollywood divas dancing in the rain.

My ultimate rain song is "Jaane do na..." from Saagar, which was picturised on Dimple and Rishi... but second best would have to be Zeenat in Satyam, Shivam, Sundaram...

Wednesday Blog Word: Believe

I’d like to believe in lot of things.

Some are petty – like believing that I will soon be rich and famous.

Some are pseudo-philosophical – like believing that we are on this earth to fulfil a purpose, and after our body dies, our souls transmigrate into another –

And yet, what I can not believe is that life is a given circumstance.

I do believe that there is always the option of death.

Wednesday Blog Word: More - Aur

Aur bhi dukh hain zamane mei mohobat ke siva
Rahatain aur bhi hain vasl ki rahat ke siva
There are more sorrows in this world other than love,
And joys other than those of an embrace...

Wednesday Blog Word: Wish

Now I wish it would rain down

Down on me

Oh yes I wish it would rain

Rain down, down on me now

Oh girl I wish it would rain down

Down on me

Oh yes I wish it would rain down on me now

Wednesday Blog Word: Enough

I have had enough of stupid kids coming in my way when I am swimming laps.

I have had enough of giving them sarcastic looks-makes me feel like a crabby old man.

I have had enough of the shitty traffic this city offers.

I have had enough of letting things and people get to me and sucking my energy.

But despite it all, one thing I can not get enough of is myself.

Wednesday Blog Word: Choices

They say that the choices that we make, shape our personality and, consequently, our destiny. I say, the choices that we can not make, or those that affect us and yet are not ours to make, shape our destiny.

Tuesday Tumbles

It's only 9:30 am. The weekend daubechary still linger and hammers in my head. Seven hours to go. And can not have McDonald's again, since had it yesterday - plus a complimentary fries I screamed blue murder for. SEVEN HOURS SEVEN HOURS SEVEN HOURS SEVEN HOURS SEVEN HOURS SEVEN HOURS SEVEN HOURS SEVEN HOURS SEVEN HOURS SEVEN HOURS SEVEN HOURS SEVEN HOURS SEVEN HOURS SEVEN HOURS SEVEN HOURS SEVEN HOURS SEVEN HOURS SEVEN HOURS SEVEN HOURS SEVEN HOURS SEVEN HOURS SEVEN HOURS SEVEN HOURS SEVEN HOURS SEVEN HOURS SEVEN HOURS SEVEN HOURS SEVEN HOURS SEVEN HOURS

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Frozen Fire?

There is a silence within me for once. For once, the voices have stopped. Stopped clamouring loudly enough to be heard – for at least some time. Time has gone by… the season has changed. Changed to a horrifying level of angry fire. Fire that is alive within me… within my heart.

My heart tells me to go off and wander, once again. The problem is, I never stopped wandering… never stopped at one place to savour its flavours. There was a hunger, a lust, a greed to wander further and further away from the one thing I was scared of, but the fiery fear froze me.

And so I wander, looking at the springs, the deserts, and I don’t accept them and nor they me.

I wander around but I am not lost. After all, for a wanderer, there is no home, no anchor and perhaps no stagnancy.

There is only fear – and promise what a new day will bring.

Wednesday Blog Word

Two

“Two trees, gloomy water, Saucy Jane and Maggie knows.”

If you have read the famous five, you will know what I am talking about.

Wednesday

Half the week is over. Deadlines have been met. and boredom still prevails, waiting to be overcome. Is there anything such as real excitement in life? Or does everything eventually become predictable and dull?

Humph

Tis another Monday morn. And after a brilliant weekend, it seems somewhat of a letdown to come to the hospital ward I call my office. The tubelights, the upcoming deadlines (some have been past) and half-full - or half-empty? - glass sitting in front of me do nothing to motivate or excite me. But oh well, it is only ten to ten, so maybe there is excitement that may come my way later on in the day. Until then, all I have for comfort is a cuppa coffee.

Coming back to life

It seems like i have come back to life after an extremely long time. Not that it is as great an experience as one would think. It is the realities - the harsh ones - that hit you first, the same frustrations... the same problems, and the realization that things are still, sadly, the same.

But then again, perhaps coming back to life is supposed to give you a refreshed appreciation for all that life stands for; but that’s perhaps too idealistic an idea. However, such experiences do, in some ways remind us of many things that we may have forgotten about ourselves, and remind us that that there are still many things that we can still, despite all the cynicism, appreciate and enjoy.

Or, for that matter, remind us about things that we do NOT enjoy. And that’s what has hit me recently: there are many things I wanted to do with myself, that I had forgotten down the line, and become obsessed with the very things that I despised in others.

It seems that all I have started doing is spend my own time, whatever I have left for myself, as a way to kill it-rather than to spend it on myself, for myself, I end up using as a means to spend it as quickly as possible, as opposed to actually enjoying it.

Surely, that’s not the way to be? Shouldn’t we spend the little time we get away from others’ demands upon us in a way we want to spend it in, rather in a way we think we should spend it in? Or, for that matter, spending time alone? Why has that become an almost scary thought?

Candle Land

There is a stillness in the night that is almost palpable. The glow of the Candles is surreal, and it seems that there is something they are trying to convey to me.

Something through their flickering. Something through the shadows they throw upon the walls. Something that I know already. Something that I have, perhaps, forgotten. Or something that perhaps I have chosen to forget… that something that lingers in the windmills of my mind. But perhaps I can not remember what, because I really have not forgotten it.

The shadows that the Candles throw are truly mesmerising. It seems they are not talking to me anymore, but amongst themselves.

One, the one that stands in the centre, the Green One, seems to be most talkative. She dances in the jar she sits within, and does seem a tad bit restless. She mingles with the others, with her Green melon smell.

The White One on the left (on the Green One’s right), Vanilla, is rather surly. He seems to be just be fulfilling his destiny tonight, … his destiny to burn tonight. He is rather apathetic and disinterested to all that is going on in Candle Land. Not for him the Melon’s gossip, and not for him, the Azure One’s serenity.

Yes, the Azure One is enviably, undoubtedly serene. Calm, with the scent of citrus and lavender, he sits there quietly, absorbing the Green One’s chatter, smiling self-indulgently. Even the White One’s surliness does not affect him.

Together, White, Azure and Green form a compelling story that only they know of, a story they want to share with me. But I don’t think I have the ability to understand Candle Talk. At least, not yet.

However, surprisingly, I am not irritated with my inability to understand the Candle dialogue. It is a dialogue that echoes within the windmills of my wind, and I respond to it. Without understanding it. It’s pure submission, it think, of the purest kind.

Acceptance and with it an understanding… a comprehension of something I may not fully understand, but something that I derive comfort – dare I say joy? – from.

Ad Bad

Oh God,

I have been working on two ads for more than a week now.

And still haven't finished.

I am not a CREATIVE person, perhaps.

My creativity ends with making a raspberry jam sandwich, and a cheese-and-tomato sandwich.

Besides, if the sandwiches taste so good, who gives a shit about copy writing? :)

Hoping for Spring

Technically speaking, spring begins on March 20 with the Spring Equinox and ends on June 21 at the Summer Solstice. However, here in Karachi, the seasons don't seem to have much of a meaning. It's usually hot, dusty and humid, although thankfully, it isnt much of the latter... yet.

I personally love the spring. Not only does it remind me of the infamous spring breaks during college, it heralds the coming of summer, for one thing, and marks the end of grey winters... altough winter in itself has its own charm.

But anyway, i sit here in front of the computer, hoping sring will emanate-- the spring of unknown suprises, and even, perhaps, passions and joy.

Here's hoping.

curiously uplifted....

I'm grossly cheerful, even though its like 8 o' clock in the morning and I am already in the office. I was listening to two ghazals this morning... many would find them depressing, i found them curiously uplifting...

"Ulfat ki naee manzil ko chala...
Yun baahen daale baahon me...
Dil tornaywaley dekh ke chal,
Hum bhi to paraye hain raahon me..."

Another verse in the same ghazal:

"Hum bhi hai wohi,
tum bhi ho wohi,
ye apni apni quismat hai...
Tum khel rahe ho Khushion se,
hum Doob gae hain aahon me..."

This one was written by Qateel Shifai, according to a freind.

The other was another ghazal/nazam - i dont know the difference... sung by both Nayyara Noor and Shehnaz Begum-

"Gham e duniya se ghab ra kar,
tum he dil ne pukara hai
kahan ho tum?
Chaley ao,
mohobat ka taqaza hai-

Na hai faryaad hoto' par
na ankho mai koi ansoo
zamaney se mila jo gham-
zamaney se mila jo gham-
usse geeto ne gaya hai-

i have no idea who the brilliant writer is- anyone?

BTW- J/J/D - sorry guys, you'll have to wait for the translation. ;-)

AGh

I'm growing old. Couldn't get out of bed until much later than usual, got stopped by a policeman for running a red light, despite my threats i had to pay him off -- 200 rupees which I could have used for a Mickey Dee Meal.

the path

The dark demon has vanished, although I can still feel his presence.

It's almost as if he has ceased to exist and yet there is something that negates and contradicts that thought.

I still feel the power overwhelming me, and the fact of the matter is I think I like being empowered -- not overpowered. The darkness engulfs me, and it no longer scares me.

I am familiar with it now, and am no longer lost. What I have to do is find the path that will take me to my destination, but the destination, you see, is the problem.

There are so many here, and choosing one is very difficult. It is not up to me though, to find the destination, I can only go where I am told to go. It is no longer easy to find my way though.

The paths are dark but there are some small, lamps on the way. They are tricky though, they change colour and they also vanish and never return. And that is what I have to overcome, so I can return to the right path where I can, once again, feel the yellow sunshine among the green leaves of joy.

That path, I am told by the dark demon, is still there... it leads, as I recall, to the top of a hill, where the wind blows, and the sun shines all the time...

Workin Work

I've been at work for the past thirteen hours or so. Sadly enough, despite my complaining, I didn't detest it, even though my dinner plans were fucked, mainly thanks to a congenial co-worker. But then again, the thought of a beach Sunday and dinner later with an old, dear friend cheers me up. However, if I am called in to work tomorrow, there will be hell to pay.

the dark demon

The Dark Demon returned last night. Actually, this was the first time I recognised him. There was almost something familiar about him, as if we had known each other for centuries, but there was an awkwardness there as well.

He knew me too well I thought, and tried to close my mind's eye so that he could not reach inside. But it was too late.

He knew too much; but I wasn't scared. Perhaps I should have been, but I wasn't. It was a relief, actually, to not have to hide anything from anyone anymore. It was as if my mind was, actually, an open book and now it was easy to be myself.

My longings no longer seemed pathetic. They were no longer just mere longings - they were passions, and they were not illusions anymore, they were realities. But part of me was scared. Who was this, who I must have known for centuries? Was it just another me?

Or was it someone who had been with me, even perhaps guided me. But no, he didn't guide me. He was just a mere spectator-perhaps he even had the power to control me and I just didn’t know it... until now.

Ah, Heaven

The weekend looks good... mainly because after two years I have managed after many trials and tribulations to attain Sue Townsend's Adrian Mole and the Weapons of Mass Destruction. Hmm, maybe I will read it on Sunday while I am at the beach and look all pretentious. But then again, who gives a shit what others think?

Dancing in the Dark

Sometimes, writing something that expresses yourself isn't even worth doing, since someone has already expressed it so well for you way back in the day.

I get up in the evening
And I ain't got nothing to say
I come home in the morning
I go to bed feeling the same way
I ain't nothing but tired
Man, I'm just tired and bored with myself
Hey there, baby
I could use just a little help

You can't start a fire
You can't start a fire without a spark
This gun's for hire
Even if we're just dancing in the dark

Messages just keep getting clearer
Radio's on and I'm moving 'round my place
I check my look in the mirror
I wanna change my clothes, my hair, my face
Man, I ain't getting nowhere
I'm just living in a dump like this
There's something happening somewhere
Baby, I just know that there is

You can't start a fire
You can't start a fire without a spark
This gun's for hire
Even if we're just dancing in the dark

You sit around getting older
There's a joke here somewhere
And it's on me
I'll shake this world off my shoulders
Come on baby, this laugh's on me

Stay on the streets of this town
And they'll be carving you up alright
They say you gotta stay hungry
Hey baby, I'm just about starving tonight
I'm dying for some action
I'm sick of sitting 'round here
Trying to write this book
I need a love reaction
Come on now, baby
Gimme just one look

You can't start a fire
Sitting 'round crying over a broken heart
This gun's for hire
Even if we're just dancing in the dark
You can't start a fire
Worrying about your little world falling apart
This gun's for hire
Even if we're just dancing in the dark
Even if we're just dancing in the dark
Even if we're just dancing in the dark
Even if we're just dancing in the dark

Hey, baby

Grouch

I am in a grouchy, grouchy mood today.

Even this mug of coffee hasn't helped.

Hopefully, everyone will have enough sense to stay away from me.

i am free!

I am free at last. I hadnt realised how much of a bloggantic - i just coined that phrase - I have become until today, when, despite working for a newspaper, i was told by a common friend that the blogs have been blocked by the PTA. I am so fucking angry that i could probably kill someone. (well, not kill, but you know what i mean.) Well, have lots to blog now (even though it will now be just for the benifit for my friends abroad and those in Pakistan who are desperate enough to use other means to access my page). But anyway. Have to place my second Sehwan sojourn pictures and impressions. I'm excited. :)

BLOCKED !!!!

MY BLOG HAS BEEN BLOCKED! BY THE PTA OR A SIMILAR DIMWITTED ORGANISATION! WHAT UTTER ASSES!

Stupidity Strike

Another Friday without McDonald's. This is just plain pathetic. Not to mention annoying.

A Perfect Sunday

1:00 p.m.: The Perfect breakfast...



With three brand new episodes of the perfect show...

Followed by a perfect beach day...




Shit, if only every day was a Sunday!

Lights out-

Saturday late night, the lights went out. And my laughing Buddha was the only one who enjoyed it!

Shabana Azmi and Farooq Sheikh

Met them in Karachi. For the report in Dawn, click I met both of them--and interviewed them for Images and Dawn.


www.dawn.com/2006/02/21/local8.htm

Will post up the interviews by Monday.


Me looking all guppoo...

Brain Freeze

All I can say is that I can't wait for this week to end. Already. It's already Tuesday and there's so much to do. Aah, they say, that's what you get for strethcing yourself so thin. If only I did stretch myself thin!!!

I saw Tumhari Amrita yesterday. Mesmerising, actually. But what suprised me most was the fact that the audience seemed to laugh at the most tragic moments. When Amrita cries out from help-desperatley-Zulfi just ansewers in his insensitive, self-involved manner by uttering a few self-involved phrases. And the audience laughed. Is it me that's mad or the rest? I fear the former...

Starvation Strike

Okay, so while the pathetic losers who don't have work will lead a "peaceful" strike after a lengthy Juma prayers session, losers like us, who have come to work will have no choice but to starve, since thanks to the strike, most delivery places are closed.

How unbelievably retarded is that?

So here I sit, my stomach growling... hoping for a Quarter Pounder I know will not be mine... not until tomorrow, at least. Or tonight, If I get lucky- ;-)

For the time being, all i can say is: I'm Hatin' It!!

The cartoons or butter?

If I hear anyone talk about the cartoons I think I will spontaneously combust. They've been around since September, so why has it taken us so long to react to them? Secondly, by acting like a bunch of morons with violence as always probably just reinforces everyone's belief that Muslims are a thick-headed, dim-witted and violent race. (Of course the fact that we aren’t really a race is irrelevant.)

Well, my main concern is that Lurpak butter will be banned in Pakistan. But fortunately, that hasn't been the case so far!

The Storm

Is it true, that after all, we are all pathetically human, and as a result, we succumb to the human ability of forgetting or ignoring our respective pasts and immersing ourselves in our present, while admitting defeat to our inability to control our future?

Are we all, after all running away from the storm that threatens us, holding on to whomever we can find? Is it, after all, a question of mere survival?

Zzzz

I haven’t written in a while… whether its work related or short stories or just plain rambling. All I can say is that I am glad that we have two whole days off on account of Muharram and that I don’t have to get out of bed unless I want to. But no—I shall have to make the most of the two days before the madness begins again and I am stuck at the office late...

I really think I have writer’s block. For someone who usually has a lot to say—or write—I am really out of words. Maybe I have spent them all? Or maybe the verbal diarrhoea has finally been cured. Who knows?

All I do know is that is painful to sit here in front of a computer all day. There’s a whole world out there, I am told…

Not so blue monday

Hah! I didn't despise getting out of bed this cold morning, mainly because i know that for the next three days i will not have come to in to work on accout of eid.

Aah, tis indeed the season to be jolly, although i am sure a day or two will be ruined by having to meet all those rellies who will tell me how much weight i have lost, or gained, ask me about my job, my cell phone, my car, and when i am getting married...

but no matter. i shall persevere! i shall not let it get to me. (maybe if i keep on telling myself this, it will actually happen.

Well, back to the grind. Seven and a half hours left to freedom... unless, like previous holidays, i am required to come in...