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.