To all the things I overlooked

One thing that fascinates me is how the things, moments, and people I overlook in the pursuit of my latest obsessions, come back to me and become so integral to my life. By contrast how the things, moments, and people I pursue with all my might somehow fade away into nothing. And now when I think about this specifically, I can pinpoint numerous such things, moments, and people who I can put into either one of these categories.

I've gone through high school, college, university collecting things and wasting them, remembering them and forgetting them. And now I can remember so many things that were in my life, but are no more, and I want them back so much, but to no avail. It's just a bitter pill to be swallowed. Like a soldier who loses a limb at war, comes back, regrets his loss and moves on, with whatever he's left with.

Memories on the other hand are simpler to manage, yet so much more complex. I'm sure that with proper levels of concentration I can trace back all the major and the not so major moments in my life back to when I was a toddler. There are so many moments that I've laid to rest in the farther crevices of my mind, many probably lost to eternal hibernation. And then there are memories that haunt me day in and out. That flash past my eyes unannounced, without any sort of proper or improper warning. And when I come out of these flashes, I'm out of sync with whatever I was doing, and then the desperate effort to get back online. So many memories that stayed with me are of moments that I deemed of no consequence, yet they've grown to be a part of my definition. And all those moments I thought would be the moments to cherish and fall back upon in times of trouble, are just lost or even if they're not lost, remembering them doesn't trigger any strong emotion.

It's like remembering how the dimple on a person's face was shaped, and forgetting the face alltogether. Or remembering a particular peice of inconsequential jewellery the love of your life wore on a similarly inconsequential day, and forgetting all about her. Am I actually making any sense? I really don't know.

Finally the people. The trickiest of all the overlooked classifications. So many friends I made, so many enemies, and so so many people I ignored all throughout. And so many people that I overlooked, who've somehow entered back into my life, or I, theirs, and we've gelled all over again. I'm grateful to all these people for ignoring what an asshole I'd been all the time they knew me.

I guess one of the major reasons we get along with the people we ignored a long time ago and meet after a while is that "sort of" connection we share. It's knowing that this person saw me when I was a whatever, and I knew this person. And look what the sands of time have done to us...

So above all, here's to all the people I overlooked in my stupidity, and who've re-entered my life, adding more and more value to it everyday, and also to those I overlooked and yet haven't made an entry into my life, but will definately do so when they feel the time is right, and my vision broad enough to appreciate them for the fabulous people they are...

Take care!

Learning how to fly...

I'm standing dead in the center of the rooftop of a 152 story building. A stiff breeze is blowing, and I can see birds of all kinds flying around me. Slowly, but confidently I walk towards the edge of the building. All around me is the metropolitan of high-rise buildings. None as high as the one I'm standing on. Traffic and people on the roads are like fuzzy dots in a faraway dream. The earth is silent, but for the sound of the breeze and of the flapping of the birds wings.

I look about me, not really looking at anything in particular, yet taking in even the minutest details. The smell of the world at that very moment fills me in, into the deepest depths of my existence. I can feel all the hope and joy everyone is feeling then, but then suddenly, without warning all the despair, anguish, grief and anger rushes over me, and the hope fades away amidst all of these angrier emotions...

For a moment everything stops, and is stuck in its own momentary eclipse, as I get up on the boundary wall, and tip-toe to the very limit of the building. A hair's width keeps me on the certainty of the strong steel structure of the building that I stand upon, seperating me from the boundless freedom lying beyond.

Some birds look at me, wondering what a neanderthal is doing on the precipice of freedom. I feel that they mock my being shackled by the chains of gravity, that glues me and billions like me to the surface of this world we so lovingly destroy everyday.

I take in a deep breath, and feel the oxygen filling into my lungs, it's a moment of comprehensive euphoria, suddenly I feel free...free of everything, even the hold of gravity on my soul.

I close my eyes, and let myself go. I let the wind take hold of me, to take me to places far and wide, places that haven't been set foot upon, places hidden from all the searching eyes of life.

I feel the essence of life flow through my body, even the minutest part of my body is suddenly alive, filled with this electrical energy. I open my eyes and the world is a haze about me. Everything seems to be moving at the speed of light, and I seem to be stuck, in the essence of that particular moment.

Finally, at the moment of extreme finalities, I learn to fly...

I learn to let go...

The crispy winters

What happens when you go out of the house at 2 o Clock at night in just your boxer shorts, in the dead of the December cold? Quite simple really, you get a cold, and then come all the relatives...

But I'm back up now, and well I'm just loving the crispy cool of this season. The cool breeze, the ferocious winds, the skeletons of trees, left bare by continuous sessions of freezing temperatures...warm mugs of tea and coffee, and the occasional walks in the leave ridden roads...

Tell me how can you live in this weather and not fall in love with it. Well all over again I'm in love with the Islamabad winter. I guess the feeling is so much stronger because my last winter was spent in a desert, and there sweating mildly instead of insanely usually identified the cold season. Ahh...it is good to be back.

Come to think of it, there's hardly anything about the winters I don't like. Let's be bolder and say that there's actually nothing about the winters I don't adore. Tell me honestly, can little kids cuter then they do wearing tonnes of knitted clothes, and hats, and ear muffs, and mittens, and on! Can life ever get fresher then it is early in the winter morning, washed up by the nightly dew. I guess if they bottled dew to sell, I'd be the number one customer.

So here's to a wonderful season that's Allah's blessing for us all. Let's eat it all up and remain thankful anyway...

Next time then.

The Happy Absence

Usually an inability to post isn't a very god thing, but when a sabbatical arrives that is induced by continuous productive work...now that's a different story altogether. See because now that I'm sitting on my blogger window and speaking nothings, it isn't with guilt for being away (as usually is the case), but with bright contemplation.

Quite a bit's happened since the last time I was here, most importantly I was finally able to lift myself out of the quick-sand that was the last post. And as usual it was utterly consuming work that came to my rescue. But rescued I am!

So Pakistan finally won a test series, and what a win it was. Sweet! Utterly sweet. And the best thing was that the win wasn't induced by individuals sparkling brighter then diamonds, but by everyone chipping in with whatever they had. And when I think of the Pakistan's Cricketing future, only good things come to mind, except for when I begin to think of when Inzi retires! At that point my logic retires as well.

Yes I am one of those people who need to see the bad with all the good in the world. If everything is perfectly fine, and life is filled with happy moments exclusively, I do begin to panic. Because if there's nothing to worry about then I can't really enjoy the things that exist to nullify my worries. Yes you can reach for the gun under the pillow and shoot at will...

This for me is birth season, everyone seems to be waiting for a birth of some sort. Aijaz and Babar wait excitedly for their young 'uns to pop into this world and deprive them of sleep for the next umm...20-30 years. Zeeshan waits for the birth of the company he's so diligently working to launch. Naufal waits for the birth of his MS period, and extremely excited about really leaving home base for the first time. And of course Alina, being the arts major that she is, keeps giving birth to these pieces of art, which are excecptional more often then they are ghastly!

So the season of birth trods along. And a merry season it is. Row...row...row your boat...gently down the stream...

My inner nomad also begins to call out to me, and the urge to travel is building within me with every passing day. I keep lowering the barometer by making small trips. The weekend before, it was the chilled, fall ridden valley of Abbotabad. And the trip on a helicopter around all the northern areas, distributing relief goods was perhaps the best change in the history and life and self induced changes. Besides a city turned crimson by autumn is perhaps the most satisfying sight for the soul.

This weekend I'm planning a trip to the historic city of Lahore. But I'm sure if it comes through, it won't be as out of the world as the last outing into the oblivion. But hey, it's better then being stuck in the 40km circle of professional life (home - office - home - some relations - some friends - home - and then office). I would have empathised with Lion King more if this were the circle of life they sung about! But of course that wouldn't make kids giddy with joy, perhaps it would have made them bleak with worry about the process of growing up...

Isn't it amazing how we can get used to our current state of physical being. And at this very moment I'm strictly speaking of our physical self. Kids are happy with how they are, and training themselves to perfection in the art of using umbrellas to unlock doors, the youth is never quite satisfied by pushing themselves just a little bit more everytime, and always getting to the other side of the Meridian. The ones stuck in the middle years, keep oscillating happily between the youth's pattern of irrational existence, and the elderly restful lives. And the elderly keep putting on anti-aging creams, and keep smiling broadly, their faces disappearing in a bush of wrinkles. And the dead, well don't really know what they're upto, but if this life is anything to go by, then they too would be quite content with their states of being. Of course the occasional quirk is justified every now and then!

So long then...have fun!