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!
Monday, December 26, 2005
Friday, December 23, 2005
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...
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...
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
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.
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.
Thursday, December 08, 2005
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!
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!
Monday, November 14, 2005
Death of Marlborough Man
Standing tall at over six feet, clad in a black jeans, and denim shirt, hair in a great state of disarray, a Marlborough lit in his hand...That's how I'll always remember you, Mr. Tahir Saleem, The Marlborough Man...
I would like to call you Sir (but you asked me not to, hence the name Marlborough Man), as you would always be the greatest teacher I ever had, and never do I want any teacher to be better then you...for you deserve this distinction, if anyone ever deserved it! A good teacher teaches you his subject with honesty and dedication, you went beyond that and taught me life. You weren't just a teacher of Physics and Mathematics, but you were the professor of humanity, humility, morality, sanity...
Let it be known to all that this post is dedicated to a person who dedicated his life not only to his loved ones but all those he didn't even know. A person who would get late for work and take all the bullshit in the world, to help a stray dog who got hurt. His everyday was a new definition of sacrifice. Though the ones he loved never were able to love him back. Oh I want to climb up on rooftops and scream...shut everyone up...stop everything...burn it all to the ground. I want at this very moment my existence, and all existence to end, and end in salutation to the end of what was the definition of pure human thought in this era of inhumanity...
I don't even know how you died...why you died. Why does a 30 something man, strong and sturdy, die? I will find out, or find as much as I can...
Oh how I wish I could have made that trip to meet you. A trip I planned so many times, but always delayed it, for how could you go anywhere! But gone you are! And curse myself, I always will for not making it...
I would always treasure that notebook you gave me, with all the little tidbits of wisdom you gathered, and probably wrote yourself.
I would never forget you saying "I was too far out all my life, not waving, but drowning".
I would never forget you singing "Babuji dheeray chalna, pyaar main zAra sambhalna" (Mister, walk slow, in love watch your step), with that knowing expression...O that knowing expression...I can see you now...
I would never forget the omlettes you made for me in butter, whenever I went over to study at your place. Professing that I need all the energy I can get...
How can I ever forget that your door was always open to my stupid bickering, about loves lost, hurdles faced, ambitions lost and found...your smiling face and words and actions of encouragement. Making sure that I was 100% all over again before you let go...
How can I ever forget the day you came over on your new Motorbiike that you loved and cherished! And then how can I forget when you sold it in a instant when your younger brother asked for a car. I can never forget you smiling that knowing smile when I couldn't make sense of your actions...
How can I ever forget us grooving to the Pulp Fiction soundtrack, cigarettes lit, books spread about in complete disarray, completely exhausted after a series of most complex mathematical problems...
I'll smile everytime I think of your explanation of wearing two pairs of socks in the death of the summer. "Yaar dau juraaboan kay beech main cigarette kee dabbee rakhee jaayay to kharaab naheen hotee..." (A pack of cigarettes would always be safe if you place it in-between two pairs of socks)
Remember the time you let go of the girl who was your life for the sake of your brother and father, so that you may be able to support them and fulfil the promise you made to your mother! (I said this is so damn filmy) O so stupid of you!
How can I forget the time you showed me the picture of her kid (married and settled while you yourself were still nowhere)...My heart still breaks to bits as I move back into that moment of 11 years ago, just as it got shattered then...
But then all the time that I spent mesmerised by the person that was you, I remember feeling that you must be from another world, whose root was based on innocence of thought and not on basic childish selfishness, as ours...
But you are gone now...I wish I could accompany you on this new journey...for everything feels lifeless to me since this morning that I got the news that you're dead...
How can you have died and not let me know...How can your death not be the biggest tragedy of this millennium...How can life still function...
How can I write about you and be satisfied that I expressed myself about the loss that I feel! How can I ever comprehensively talk of you the person, the teacher, the guide, the friend...
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
I would like to call you Sir (but you asked me not to, hence the name Marlborough Man), as you would always be the greatest teacher I ever had, and never do I want any teacher to be better then you...for you deserve this distinction, if anyone ever deserved it! A good teacher teaches you his subject with honesty and dedication, you went beyond that and taught me life. You weren't just a teacher of Physics and Mathematics, but you were the professor of humanity, humility, morality, sanity...
Let it be known to all that this post is dedicated to a person who dedicated his life not only to his loved ones but all those he didn't even know. A person who would get late for work and take all the bullshit in the world, to help a stray dog who got hurt. His everyday was a new definition of sacrifice. Though the ones he loved never were able to love him back. Oh I want to climb up on rooftops and scream...shut everyone up...stop everything...burn it all to the ground. I want at this very moment my existence, and all existence to end, and end in salutation to the end of what was the definition of pure human thought in this era of inhumanity...
I don't even know how you died...why you died. Why does a 30 something man, strong and sturdy, die? I will find out, or find as much as I can...
Oh how I wish I could have made that trip to meet you. A trip I planned so many times, but always delayed it, for how could you go anywhere! But gone you are! And curse myself, I always will for not making it...
I would always treasure that notebook you gave me, with all the little tidbits of wisdom you gathered, and probably wrote yourself.
I would never forget you saying "I was too far out all my life, not waving, but drowning".
I would never forget you singing "Babuji dheeray chalna, pyaar main zAra sambhalna" (Mister, walk slow, in love watch your step), with that knowing expression...O that knowing expression...I can see you now...
I would never forget the omlettes you made for me in butter, whenever I went over to study at your place. Professing that I need all the energy I can get...
How can I ever forget that your door was always open to my stupid bickering, about loves lost, hurdles faced, ambitions lost and found...your smiling face and words and actions of encouragement. Making sure that I was 100% all over again before you let go...
How can I ever forget the day you came over on your new Motorbiike that you loved and cherished! And then how can I forget when you sold it in a instant when your younger brother asked for a car. I can never forget you smiling that knowing smile when I couldn't make sense of your actions...
How can I ever forget us grooving to the Pulp Fiction soundtrack, cigarettes lit, books spread about in complete disarray, completely exhausted after a series of most complex mathematical problems...
I'll smile everytime I think of your explanation of wearing two pairs of socks in the death of the summer. "Yaar dau juraaboan kay beech main cigarette kee dabbee rakhee jaayay to kharaab naheen hotee..." (A pack of cigarettes would always be safe if you place it in-between two pairs of socks)
Remember the time you let go of the girl who was your life for the sake of your brother and father, so that you may be able to support them and fulfil the promise you made to your mother! (I said this is so damn filmy) O so stupid of you!
How can I forget the time you showed me the picture of her kid (married and settled while you yourself were still nowhere)...My heart still breaks to bits as I move back into that moment of 11 years ago, just as it got shattered then...
But then all the time that I spent mesmerised by the person that was you, I remember feeling that you must be from another world, whose root was based on innocence of thought and not on basic childish selfishness, as ours...
But you are gone now...I wish I could accompany you on this new journey...for everything feels lifeless to me since this morning that I got the news that you're dead...
How can you have died and not let me know...How can your death not be the biggest tragedy of this millennium...How can life still function...
How can I write about you and be satisfied that I expressed myself about the loss that I feel! How can I ever comprehensively talk of you the person, the teacher, the guide, the friend...
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
Thursday, November 10, 2005
Of Lamps, Lamp shades, and Spiderman
Each passing day reaffirms my faith in God's great sense of humor! I would never have considered myself to be the sort of a person who specially goes to the market to buy a lamp, let alone, go into the market and get one made specifically to order! So I guess you can understand my sentiment behind writing this blog dedicated solely to my day yesterday. Cause not only did I get a lamp made to order and played the role of a chief architect in its design, I also got a special Spiderman cake, again made to order.
And all this becomes even stranger when yesterday was a holiday (Iqbal day), and I prefer spending my holidays tucked up in a comfortable couch watching a favorite movie, if not holidaying in some remote area in the northern mountains.
So for all those (lost) souls interested in reading this blog, let me try and clarify my erratic behavior for yesterday. Well the seed for ending up in a shop analyzing the chief principles in play behind lamp design were sowed 8 months ago. 8 months ago, I was officially married, and that too, to a fine arts major. So now I hope it all makes sense, and all thee who read, can also realize my future of finding myself in so many more situations where I would never expect to find myself in! The good thing, however is that these sort of (un)timely adventures can act as an aphrodisiac for life as it happens. On the flip side I can end up to be the man who went up a hill and came down a mountain, whatever that means!
Now over to the Spiderman story. Well that came about thanks to my 5 year old nephew, who wanted a special Spiderman cake on his birthday, so off I went on the Spiderman hunt, and ended up sitting in a bakery going through various kiddy coloring books looking for that perfect Spiderman pose. Well the cake was a big success, but the ride home wasn't as successful. See by the time Spiderman got home, one of his legs were broken, and being Spidey, he had shifted to the very edge of the cake boundary, giving him a squeezed sort of an appearance! And finally the kids weren't as enthusiastic about cutting Spidey up as a birthday gesture.
So yesterday with these two erratic events, and about a 150 km drive around the city split up during the course of the day, ended in the wee hours of the night. And it was after a long time that I went to sleep as soon as I hit the bed.
Next time then...
And all this becomes even stranger when yesterday was a holiday (Iqbal day), and I prefer spending my holidays tucked up in a comfortable couch watching a favorite movie, if not holidaying in some remote area in the northern mountains.
So for all those (lost) souls interested in reading this blog, let me try and clarify my erratic behavior for yesterday. Well the seed for ending up in a shop analyzing the chief principles in play behind lamp design were sowed 8 months ago. 8 months ago, I was officially married, and that too, to a fine arts major. So now I hope it all makes sense, and all thee who read, can also realize my future of finding myself in so many more situations where I would never expect to find myself in! The good thing, however is that these sort of (un)timely adventures can act as an aphrodisiac for life as it happens. On the flip side I can end up to be the man who went up a hill and came down a mountain, whatever that means!
Now over to the Spiderman story. Well that came about thanks to my 5 year old nephew, who wanted a special Spiderman cake on his birthday, so off I went on the Spiderman hunt, and ended up sitting in a bakery going through various kiddy coloring books looking for that perfect Spiderman pose. Well the cake was a big success, but the ride home wasn't as successful. See by the time Spiderman got home, one of his legs were broken, and being Spidey, he had shifted to the very edge of the cake boundary, giving him a squeezed sort of an appearance! And finally the kids weren't as enthusiastic about cutting Spidey up as a birthday gesture.
So yesterday with these two erratic events, and about a 150 km drive around the city split up during the course of the day, ended in the wee hours of the night. And it was after a long time that I went to sleep as soon as I hit the bed.
Next time then...
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
Deriving Sense
Somehow it's perceived that as you add years to your real-life experience, you're supposed to develop a better sense of sense. Your awareness barometer is supposed to show a steady increase in value as time goes by. But does this perception really hold any true value? Or is it just like believing in some stereotype and realizing too late what a fool you've made of yourself!
See I've been privileged to be spending a lot of time with our young'uns recently, and their sense of sense amazes me constantly. Sometimes I actually feel that I should sit one of them down (given that they can sit still long enough, amazing reservoirs of energy) and discuss the most complex issues pertaining in my life. It is their instinct to recognize the simplest solution that is remarkable. I guess as we mature and supposedly add more and more convolutions to our brains, this sense to spot the simplest solution (which is almost always the best solution) begins to elude us. As I guess we are in pursuit of solutions of Einstenian proportions.
I was recently watching a serious thriller, where the hero was facing and in turn beating extreme odds when my 4 year old nephew stated, very matter of factly "why doesn't he just stay in his house". And that was it, the best possible solution. Sit back in the comfort of your home, light a cigarette, watch a nice show, and relax in that one comfortable couch...but then, that would have been one dull movie (unless you're a big fan of the crappy reality TV).
I guess as we add years, and hopefully increase our intellect quotient, and develop a far-sighted approach to things, the things right in front of our faces go out of focus, and we end up contemplating the next 80 moves in the game of chess when the game can be won in the very next move...
So much for that, maybe some more at some later stage.
In my other world...Alina begins her mids in two days...Babar plans on a more stable plan for himself...Aijaz keeps fighting the good fight against fatigue and to help the earthquake victims...Naufal gets his visa approved and is on his way to Syracuse...Zeeshan keeps taking those little steps to reach that elusive step where he cuts the ribbon of his new company...Dad recovers from flu...Mom keeps forgetting to take her medicine as if the forgetfulness itself was prescribed by the doctor...And I, well I just keep coping with the new world.
Next time then...
See I've been privileged to be spending a lot of time with our young'uns recently, and their sense of sense amazes me constantly. Sometimes I actually feel that I should sit one of them down (given that they can sit still long enough, amazing reservoirs of energy) and discuss the most complex issues pertaining in my life. It is their instinct to recognize the simplest solution that is remarkable. I guess as we mature and supposedly add more and more convolutions to our brains, this sense to spot the simplest solution (which is almost always the best solution) begins to elude us. As I guess we are in pursuit of solutions of Einstenian proportions.
I was recently watching a serious thriller, where the hero was facing and in turn beating extreme odds when my 4 year old nephew stated, very matter of factly "why doesn't he just stay in his house". And that was it, the best possible solution. Sit back in the comfort of your home, light a cigarette, watch a nice show, and relax in that one comfortable couch...but then, that would have been one dull movie (unless you're a big fan of the crappy reality TV).
I guess as we add years, and hopefully increase our intellect quotient, and develop a far-sighted approach to things, the things right in front of our faces go out of focus, and we end up contemplating the next 80 moves in the game of chess when the game can be won in the very next move...
So much for that, maybe some more at some later stage.
In my other world...Alina begins her mids in two days...Babar plans on a more stable plan for himself...Aijaz keeps fighting the good fight against fatigue and to help the earthquake victims...Naufal gets his visa approved and is on his way to Syracuse...Zeeshan keeps taking those little steps to reach that elusive step where he cuts the ribbon of his new company...Dad recovers from flu...Mom keeps forgetting to take her medicine as if the forgetfulness itself was prescribed by the doctor...And I, well I just keep coping with the new world.
Next time then...
Monday, November 07, 2005
Rocking away with life
Well it's been more then a while really, and quite a bit's happened in this more then a little while. Ramzan came and went, Eid came and went, a new job, but one thing that refuses to leave the inner crevices of the mind for even a few minutes, the mind and life shattering earthquake!
On the morning of the 8th day of November, life was changed forever for many Pakistanis, myself included. When I was rocking across my office on the 4th floor by the earthquake, I never thought beyond the time it would be over. Yet slowly but steadily the news of the devastation started to reach us. Bit by bit, like that Chinese torture where they drop water of your forehead, one drop at a time, until all control over the mind is lost...
It was however heartening to see the Pakistani people lift themselves up to the occasion. To see students, professionals, kids, the elderly all go the extra mile and then some to do whatever they could to assist in whatever way they could. A relief camp was established at my office. Work was suspended for 10 days, goods were collected, money was collected, and detailed plans were made to send the relief to the hard struck areas. Every night 4 trucks loaded with relief goods were dispatched.
I took two trips to Muzaffarabad for disbursement of relief goods. I thought the clips shown on TV were excruciating, but being there, in the stinch of rotting corpses, where roof upon roof was layed out flat on the ground gave a whole new perspective to the word excruciating. Everyone we met had lost something / someone. In that warped reality when someone said "I'm fine" it meant s/he'd only lost 1-2 family members, and were pulling themselves together to help others who'd lost their whole families. I saw women and children with bruised bodies and broken bones, just sitting there, unable to reach any hospital or help otherwise.
But what I felt most strongly over there was an absence of God, it was as if all divine assistence was abolished, and little insignificant people were left to tread the stormy waters on their own.
I can write on and on about this and still not be able to convey what I saw there, and all that I felt there...so...move on.
After two years I spent Ramzan back at home, and that was comfortable. I guess you can never get pampered enough! And Eid was a nice quiet family affair as well. It was my first Eid after being married, so it did feel a bit wierd at times, but the overall effect was quite soothing.
And then I switched my job as well. This time to a place where I feel I can spend the rest of my professional life in peace, working away quietly.
On numerous occasions I felt the urge to get online to blog, but there was always something to stop me from going there. Now I feel sad, because of so many thoughts that are lost, maybe forever...
Let's try and be a bit more regular now.
On the morning of the 8th day of November, life was changed forever for many Pakistanis, myself included. When I was rocking across my office on the 4th floor by the earthquake, I never thought beyond the time it would be over. Yet slowly but steadily the news of the devastation started to reach us. Bit by bit, like that Chinese torture where they drop water of your forehead, one drop at a time, until all control over the mind is lost...
It was however heartening to see the Pakistani people lift themselves up to the occasion. To see students, professionals, kids, the elderly all go the extra mile and then some to do whatever they could to assist in whatever way they could. A relief camp was established at my office. Work was suspended for 10 days, goods were collected, money was collected, and detailed plans were made to send the relief to the hard struck areas. Every night 4 trucks loaded with relief goods were dispatched.
I took two trips to Muzaffarabad for disbursement of relief goods. I thought the clips shown on TV were excruciating, but being there, in the stinch of rotting corpses, where roof upon roof was layed out flat on the ground gave a whole new perspective to the word excruciating. Everyone we met had lost something / someone. In that warped reality when someone said "I'm fine" it meant s/he'd only lost 1-2 family members, and were pulling themselves together to help others who'd lost their whole families. I saw women and children with bruised bodies and broken bones, just sitting there, unable to reach any hospital or help otherwise.
But what I felt most strongly over there was an absence of God, it was as if all divine assistence was abolished, and little insignificant people were left to tread the stormy waters on their own.
I can write on and on about this and still not be able to convey what I saw there, and all that I felt there...so...move on.
After two years I spent Ramzan back at home, and that was comfortable. I guess you can never get pampered enough! And Eid was a nice quiet family affair as well. It was my first Eid after being married, so it did feel a bit wierd at times, but the overall effect was quite soothing.
And then I switched my job as well. This time to a place where I feel I can spend the rest of my professional life in peace, working away quietly.
On numerous occasions I felt the urge to get online to blog, but there was always something to stop me from going there. Now I feel sad, because of so many thoughts that are lost, maybe forever...
Let's try and be a bit more regular now.
Saturday, August 27, 2005
Professions
Someone posted a comment asking for my profession, and guess what, it got me thinking...
Ok, it's been three days from the first sentence to this one. No, no, I've not been meditating all this while, just been too damn busy, work and otherwise. But here I am now, with a moment to spare and a thought or two swirling in the head. So let's get to my profession.
Can I classify myself as having a singular profession? Is my profession the job I do? Or does my profession go deeper into my belief system?
Would I call XYZ my profession? Afterall I graduated in XYZ, have been working in the XYZ industry for the last 5 years or so, and most of my friends are working in the same field. So I guess as a working professional, yes XYZ can be termed as my "field", but not profession. Profession would be variations within the realm of XYZ, or not...
Now let's dig a little deeper. As defined by Word Web profession means:
Noun : Profession
1. The body of people in a learned occupation
2. An occupation requiring special education (especially in the liberal arts or
sciences)
3. An open avowal (true or false) of some belief or opinion
"a profession of disagreement"
4. Affirmation of acceptance of some religion or faith
"a profession of Christianity"
As far as 1. goes, I can't really identify myself with any singular body of people. I've always been bad belonging to any specific community. To cut a long (and tedious) story short, let's just say, there usually are numerous disagreements, at the grass root level. So as per 1. I have no profession, and the way things stand I won't in the near (or distant) future.
As for 2. one way to look at it would be how I linked myself to XYZ, but that's a loose linkage isn't it. I mean can we call it special education in the Doom generation. As far as special education is concerned, I remember taking special sex-ed classes which were mandatory in our elementary school. So does that make me a professional sex maniac? I certanily hope not! So this definition can only result in inaccurate interpretations...hence...move on.
Coming to 3. now. Well I am quite often described as having a big mouth, so I keep finding myself in situations where I am strongly professing some belief or opinion. Anti-religious-blindness, Pro-movies, etc etc. I guess when I believe in something I believe in it quite strongly. But this way I'd have as many professions as problems in life. Dare we start counting? Perhaps not!
Alright, at 4. finally and this is the last one. I am simply not able to accept in totality any religion or faith, try as I may...But again loosely binding ourselves to this definition, I would classify myself in the "profession of Islam". But again an Islam which wouldn't conclude in the ending of lives at some point of conflict, so I guess I'm outta there as well.
So my friend, whoever you are, do you understand why I say when I say that I have no real profession, and please do not take offence if I say that neither do you, or anyone else. For simply put, such hard and discrete boundries do not gel well with such a malleable and analog concept of life.
Next time then...
P.S. Started my MS yesterday, and it was very wierd being in a classroom after a hiatus of about 5 years. So let's see where we end up this time...I guess the fun (as always) lies in the journey...
Ok, it's been three days from the first sentence to this one. No, no, I've not been meditating all this while, just been too damn busy, work and otherwise. But here I am now, with a moment to spare and a thought or two swirling in the head. So let's get to my profession.
Can I classify myself as having a singular profession? Is my profession the job I do? Or does my profession go deeper into my belief system?
Would I call XYZ my profession? Afterall I graduated in XYZ, have been working in the XYZ industry for the last 5 years or so, and most of my friends are working in the same field. So I guess as a working professional, yes XYZ can be termed as my "field", but not profession. Profession would be variations within the realm of XYZ, or not...
Now let's dig a little deeper. As defined by Word Web profession means:
Noun : Profession
1. The body of people in a learned occupation
2. An occupation requiring special education (especially in the liberal arts or
sciences)
3. An open avowal (true or false) of some belief or opinion
"a profession of disagreement"
4. Affirmation of acceptance of some religion or faith
"a profession of Christianity"
As far as 1. goes, I can't really identify myself with any singular body of people. I've always been bad belonging to any specific community. To cut a long (and tedious) story short, let's just say, there usually are numerous disagreements, at the grass root level. So as per 1. I have no profession, and the way things stand I won't in the near (or distant) future.
As for 2. one way to look at it would be how I linked myself to XYZ, but that's a loose linkage isn't it. I mean can we call it special education in the Doom generation. As far as special education is concerned, I remember taking special sex-ed classes which were mandatory in our elementary school. So does that make me a professional sex maniac? I certanily hope not! So this definition can only result in inaccurate interpretations...hence...move on.
Coming to 3. now. Well I am quite often described as having a big mouth, so I keep finding myself in situations where I am strongly professing some belief or opinion. Anti-religious-blindness, Pro-movies, etc etc. I guess when I believe in something I believe in it quite strongly. But this way I'd have as many professions as problems in life. Dare we start counting? Perhaps not!
Alright, at 4. finally and this is the last one. I am simply not able to accept in totality any religion or faith, try as I may...But again loosely binding ourselves to this definition, I would classify myself in the "profession of Islam". But again an Islam which wouldn't conclude in the ending of lives at some point of conflict, so I guess I'm outta there as well.
So my friend, whoever you are, do you understand why I say when I say that I have no real profession, and please do not take offence if I say that neither do you, or anyone else. For simply put, such hard and discrete boundries do not gel well with such a malleable and analog concept of life.
Next time then...
P.S. Started my MS yesterday, and it was very wierd being in a classroom after a hiatus of about 5 years. So let's see where we end up this time...I guess the fun (as always) lies in the journey...
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
Yesterday they buried a man in the graveyard...
Yesterday they buried a man in the graveyard; apart from that it was the perfect Islamabad day. I’ve always maintained that this little city of ours is at its zenith right after it has rained, when the thick cover of clouds is still sheltering the land from the sun. Well it was just that sort of a day. An assortment of all kinds of clouds meteorologists know of hovered above the ground, moving around lazily, enjoying the soft breeze that smelled of all things green and alive. Do you know that the human eye can identify more shades of green than any other color? Well it was all those shades of green at display, every shade working its way into the soul, through the eyes, adding to the calm of existence.
Yesterday they buried a man in the graveyard; the cars moved about making that noise that they make when the roads are still wet and sparkling. People on motorbikes and cycles, and all the pedestrians hurried home, or wherever their short journeys took them, trying to outrun the downpour. People in cars drove slowly, as if trying to delay the getting home bit, and just moved about slowly, harmoniously, taking in the sweetness of a cool day in an otherwise smoldering month of August. Life progressed in sync with the rhythmic ticking of the clock, both biological and planetary. I guess it would never go out of sync from that rhythm, for its destiny would always be there to ensure that.
Yesterday they buried a man in the graveyard; the progression was filled with the usual attendance of the mixed assortment of the residents of the capital city. Cars, big and small, new and old, all came to a stop, and people of the same description popped out. Some were bleak, others chatted happily, passing a comment here and there about how lovely the weather was. Some mourners looked as if they wanted to be buried in the grave with the soul departed, others just cursed their luck for having to walk in the mud to the grave just after it had stopped pouring. All the usual rituals were carried out, everyone gave a piece of their mind, and somehow it was all said and done without any serious outburst.
Yesterday they buried a man in the graveyard; I got to thinking that this could so much be my burial ceremony. I would expect the same mix of people. There would be those who would feel a great sense of loss at my departure, those who’d think of me that particular day and then move on with their lives to forget me forever, and those that would come just because they thought that I would have come to their burial as well. The same sense of chaotic reflections would drive my body to the grave, and then, like magic it would all be over. Slowly people would move out and head wherever their minds would take them. Perhaps someone would stay back at my grave after everyone would walk away. Perhaps speak a few words to me personally, and then walk away. Eventually they would all resume moving at the speed of life.
Yesterday they buried a man in the graveyard; there was this sense of doom in a particular home. Life ended for a select few along with the deceased. Life also went on for the same select few, with just some minor adjustments and one major adjustment. People paid their respects in whatever manner they deemed most appropriate. Quite a few eyes rained monsoon, many noses were blown, numerous footings were lost, and lots of hugs were disbursed. Somewhere in that mix, sighs of relief were also released. Somehow food was also arranged and a meal worthy of being a wedding dinner was had. Stories consisting of fond memories were told, many true, and many made up. Many felt it their duty to help out, to be there. A great sense of commitment was felt, which would, in most cases be forgotten with the tides of time.
Yesterday they buried a man in the graveyard; I wanted it to be me…
Yesterday they buried a man in the graveyard; the cars moved about making that noise that they make when the roads are still wet and sparkling. People on motorbikes and cycles, and all the pedestrians hurried home, or wherever their short journeys took them, trying to outrun the downpour. People in cars drove slowly, as if trying to delay the getting home bit, and just moved about slowly, harmoniously, taking in the sweetness of a cool day in an otherwise smoldering month of August. Life progressed in sync with the rhythmic ticking of the clock, both biological and planetary. I guess it would never go out of sync from that rhythm, for its destiny would always be there to ensure that.
Yesterday they buried a man in the graveyard; the progression was filled with the usual attendance of the mixed assortment of the residents of the capital city. Cars, big and small, new and old, all came to a stop, and people of the same description popped out. Some were bleak, others chatted happily, passing a comment here and there about how lovely the weather was. Some mourners looked as if they wanted to be buried in the grave with the soul departed, others just cursed their luck for having to walk in the mud to the grave just after it had stopped pouring. All the usual rituals were carried out, everyone gave a piece of their mind, and somehow it was all said and done without any serious outburst.
Yesterday they buried a man in the graveyard; I got to thinking that this could so much be my burial ceremony. I would expect the same mix of people. There would be those who would feel a great sense of loss at my departure, those who’d think of me that particular day and then move on with their lives to forget me forever, and those that would come just because they thought that I would have come to their burial as well. The same sense of chaotic reflections would drive my body to the grave, and then, like magic it would all be over. Slowly people would move out and head wherever their minds would take them. Perhaps someone would stay back at my grave after everyone would walk away. Perhaps speak a few words to me personally, and then walk away. Eventually they would all resume moving at the speed of life.
Yesterday they buried a man in the graveyard; there was this sense of doom in a particular home. Life ended for a select few along with the deceased. Life also went on for the same select few, with just some minor adjustments and one major adjustment. People paid their respects in whatever manner they deemed most appropriate. Quite a few eyes rained monsoon, many noses were blown, numerous footings were lost, and lots of hugs were disbursed. Somewhere in that mix, sighs of relief were also released. Somehow food was also arranged and a meal worthy of being a wedding dinner was had. Stories consisting of fond memories were told, many true, and many made up. Many felt it their duty to help out, to be there. A great sense of commitment was felt, which would, in most cases be forgotten with the tides of time.
Yesterday they buried a man in the graveyard; I wanted it to be me…
Saturday, July 30, 2005
Comfort zone
So today should be interesting. Meet one friend before he leaves for Italy. Meet another friend who's visiting and before he heads back to East Taimoor. Meet the relatives who are coming over to visit. Sit with another friend and finalize the vision and mission statement for the company he is about to launch. And do all this while all you really want to do is lie down and think about the passing of what has been one of the most hectic and killer weeks in the recent history of weeks. And of course half the day is already gone, and the second half is flying by at blinding speed.
Right now I would just want to find my comfort zone, which I feel I've misplaced, get into it and hide from the rest of the world, and come out only when using the john is absolutely essential. The problem is that somehow I've misplaced my comfort zone and there's a constant feeling that I'm standing on the pitch holding a broken bat with no helmet or pads, and facing successive deliveries from Shoib Akhter, Brett Lee, and Shane Bond. Just place yourself there and you'd find me standing besides you.
So even though the idea of a comfort zone seems exciting, just imagining how it looks like seems far fethced at the moment, let alone reach it and reside in it. Wasn't there this theory of guardian angels, well if there are any such angels, then I really need my angel this very moment! Otherwise the consequences would be quite nasty and un redeemable.
By the way, why is redemtion such an important issue. And what's all the focus on issues all the time, what not focus on the non-issues for a change. Why even want to focus at all. And then why are these wants plaguing us? And then why are we scared of things that are capable of plaguing us? Don't even get me started on the fears that scare us. And then why do we always need to get started. But then why is there a constant bearing of needs in our lives? And what's with these lives we live so enthusiastically...
Get a drift of my mental state?
Well good luck!
Right now I would just want to find my comfort zone, which I feel I've misplaced, get into it and hide from the rest of the world, and come out only when using the john is absolutely essential. The problem is that somehow I've misplaced my comfort zone and there's a constant feeling that I'm standing on the pitch holding a broken bat with no helmet or pads, and facing successive deliveries from Shoib Akhter, Brett Lee, and Shane Bond. Just place yourself there and you'd find me standing besides you.
So even though the idea of a comfort zone seems exciting, just imagining how it looks like seems far fethced at the moment, let alone reach it and reside in it. Wasn't there this theory of guardian angels, well if there are any such angels, then I really need my angel this very moment! Otherwise the consequences would be quite nasty and un redeemable.
By the way, why is redemtion such an important issue. And what's all the focus on issues all the time, what not focus on the non-issues for a change. Why even want to focus at all. And then why are these wants plaguing us? And then why are we scared of things that are capable of plaguing us? Don't even get me started on the fears that scare us. And then why do we always need to get started. But then why is there a constant bearing of needs in our lives? And what's with these lives we live so enthusiastically...
Get a drift of my mental state?
Well good luck!
Thursday, July 14, 2005
Getting back at it
There's nothing like watching the movies you love to get yourself back into the gear you believe is the right gear. So yesterday evening I spent with the movies I love.
The cinemactic evening was inaugerated with Almodovar's "Talk to her" that took me to that deep dark place, that I'm sure Almodovar knows quite well. After that it was "Cinema Paradiso", that little Italian treat. Followed that up with helping Alina out in the kitchen with a Pakistanized version of some Italian dish (not trying to hog any credit, basically I just blended boiled potatoes in milk with lots of black pepper and salt). And if you think that was enough, after stuffing myself to the point of resembling a boiled potato, I ended the night with a very late night showing of "Amelie"! Alina saw the film for the first time, so I kept nagging her about how lovely Audrey Totou and every frame of the movie is, I'm sure there was a moment where she would have preferred to smack me with a pillow case stuffed with horse shoes...
So today, sitting at my office enjoying my morning cup of tea, I can sit and just write at lesiure, ahh that lovely feeling.
Yesterday was an interesting day. Work was busier then usual, that means I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown (reminds me of another Almodovar film), the sky was filled with clouds and not a single drop of rain fell, and the evevning saw the spell of rain come to an inevitble end. And I came across a random blog that I really liked.
I've always felt that a blog should be the reflection of the everyday ordinary life, whish is just so special. But it should be more in the head then out there in the physical world. I don't really know if I'm making much sense, but at least I know what I'm talking about, so bear with it. It was a blog by an aspiring writer caught up in the hassles of London, and keeping up with the crazed traffic. Somehow I got to reading the posts and kept getting hooked on them.
Would it make sense if I say that I can actually be that same person in a different situation / life? Well the posts gave me that sort of a feeling. Specially there was one post written in the wake of the heart wrenching London bomb blasts. Without permission of the author, I'm going to reproduce a small portion that really made sense to me.
You see, people who live in London are like cockroaches, tough, mean, survivalists.
...
Using this word 'freedom' over and over again as if it meant something. I decided this word freedom that we are supposed to be defending is actually a mistake, it should be 'wealth' or 'money' because that is what the rest of the world is pissed off about really. It is power games isn't it? The fight for power, because no one is really free when there are governments that do not represent the will of the people. DOesn't the world want less carbon gases in the environment? Does Bush change his policies? Is he reallly concerned about his 'economy' or his own ties to oil companies and profit?
...
Everyone was chatting, undeniably calm, smiling, happy to be alive.
...
'Freedom' wasn't something we felt because we were western, but because we were happy to be alive, anywhere, even if were in the Middle East. None of us felt the democracy, because how can we be democratic when our media manipulates the way we think? I kept thinking that terrorism wouldn't survive without the media, and vice versa, a sort of paristical relationship.
...
I don't blame the terrrorists for their anger. The middle east has a lot to be pissed off about. Hell, a lot of the world does because of the West. Look at Africa, South America. But I do feel that everyone is one, and that we cant see each other as enemies, as others trying to take away our 'freedom' because as we all know 'freedom' is only a buzzword, an illusionary thing that the 'other' is trying to steal because we want to see them as the enemy. There is no enemy, only ourselves to blame. As Janis Joplin sang 'freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose'.
I'd say I feel exactly the same about the situation, except I'd go on to say that I don't blame the terrorists for their anger, but I do hold them responsible for the ways they employ to vent it. Getting even with a baby in a pram is just never going to be justified in any way or for to me. But the "one"ness of everyone, yes! Why is it so difficult for us to accept that, and rejoice in the thought. I guess the reason would always lie somewhere in-between the differences in faith and belief. Freedom has actually become just a buzzword. It's like a million flies buzzing it without really knowing why they're doing what they're doing or what they expect to convey.
Why is it that the more progress we make in-terms of getting to know things, we move farther and farther away from the simplest of truth? Why do we keep losing our hold on rationality? Why do we keep getting automated into strips of program to be run?
But I'd always be hopeful, cause I feel there is hope, that's why we still exist, cause the day we stop existing would be the day hope would end.
Next time...
The cinemactic evening was inaugerated with Almodovar's "Talk to her" that took me to that deep dark place, that I'm sure Almodovar knows quite well. After that it was "Cinema Paradiso", that little Italian treat. Followed that up with helping Alina out in the kitchen with a Pakistanized version of some Italian dish (not trying to hog any credit, basically I just blended boiled potatoes in milk with lots of black pepper and salt). And if you think that was enough, after stuffing myself to the point of resembling a boiled potato, I ended the night with a very late night showing of "Amelie"! Alina saw the film for the first time, so I kept nagging her about how lovely Audrey Totou and every frame of the movie is, I'm sure there was a moment where she would have preferred to smack me with a pillow case stuffed with horse shoes...
So today, sitting at my office enjoying my morning cup of tea, I can sit and just write at lesiure, ahh that lovely feeling.
Yesterday was an interesting day. Work was busier then usual, that means I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown (reminds me of another Almodovar film), the sky was filled with clouds and not a single drop of rain fell, and the evevning saw the spell of rain come to an inevitble end. And I came across a random blog that I really liked.
I've always felt that a blog should be the reflection of the everyday ordinary life, whish is just so special. But it should be more in the head then out there in the physical world. I don't really know if I'm making much sense, but at least I know what I'm talking about, so bear with it. It was a blog by an aspiring writer caught up in the hassles of London, and keeping up with the crazed traffic. Somehow I got to reading the posts and kept getting hooked on them.
Would it make sense if I say that I can actually be that same person in a different situation / life? Well the posts gave me that sort of a feeling. Specially there was one post written in the wake of the heart wrenching London bomb blasts. Without permission of the author, I'm going to reproduce a small portion that really made sense to me.
You see, people who live in London are like cockroaches, tough, mean, survivalists.
...
Using this word 'freedom' over and over again as if it meant something. I decided this word freedom that we are supposed to be defending is actually a mistake, it should be 'wealth' or 'money' because that is what the rest of the world is pissed off about really. It is power games isn't it? The fight for power, because no one is really free when there are governments that do not represent the will of the people. DOesn't the world want less carbon gases in the environment? Does Bush change his policies? Is he reallly concerned about his 'economy' or his own ties to oil companies and profit?
...
Everyone was chatting, undeniably calm, smiling, happy to be alive.
...
'Freedom' wasn't something we felt because we were western, but because we were happy to be alive, anywhere, even if were in the Middle East. None of us felt the democracy, because how can we be democratic when our media manipulates the way we think? I kept thinking that terrorism wouldn't survive without the media, and vice versa, a sort of paristical relationship.
...
I don't blame the terrrorists for their anger. The middle east has a lot to be pissed off about. Hell, a lot of the world does because of the West. Look at Africa, South America. But I do feel that everyone is one, and that we cant see each other as enemies, as others trying to take away our 'freedom' because as we all know 'freedom' is only a buzzword, an illusionary thing that the 'other' is trying to steal because we want to see them as the enemy. There is no enemy, only ourselves to blame. As Janis Joplin sang 'freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose'.
I'd say I feel exactly the same about the situation, except I'd go on to say that I don't blame the terrorists for their anger, but I do hold them responsible for the ways they employ to vent it. Getting even with a baby in a pram is just never going to be justified in any way or for to me. But the "one"ness of everyone, yes! Why is it so difficult for us to accept that, and rejoice in the thought. I guess the reason would always lie somewhere in-between the differences in faith and belief. Freedom has actually become just a buzzword. It's like a million flies buzzing it without really knowing why they're doing what they're doing or what they expect to convey.
Why is it that the more progress we make in-terms of getting to know things, we move farther and farther away from the simplest of truth? Why do we keep losing our hold on rationality? Why do we keep getting automated into strips of program to be run?
But I'd always be hopeful, cause I feel there is hope, that's why we still exist, cause the day we stop existing would be the day hope would end.
Next time...
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
Bad news
For the last month and a half, I've been extra-ordinarily lazy. Ever get the feeling of being always tired, no matter how much or how little rest you get. And frankly I'm quite sick of it. Alright I love to just lie down and relax with a good book or a movie, but I want to feel fresh doing that. Couple that with a series of not so good news.
I mean how're you supposed to digest the fact that your best friend at 29 is diagnosed with sugar, and would be spending the rest of his life a diabetic! That's just not fair. There was a time when a piece of news you got was of a new bike, an admission into a dream university, reciprocation of that youthful true love, oh I can just go on with this list. And somehow "news" now has turned into the discovery of being diabetic. It's not the bad news I'm bitching about, but the fact that there's nothing much that you can do to help out, and you end up going into hiding because you wouldn't know how to react appropriately. I mean getting into an accident is bad news, but tolerable as long as you know that you can help out in the "nursing back to health" process.
But I'm sure like all great lessons, it would be learned how to behave and all that comes with it. O how I wish I could do something meaningful to help. Like finding out why the damn body stops producing something like insulin, and then maybe finding out how to get it back to producing it again!
See news like this affects you in so many selfish and altruistic ways. I can't even begin to explain all that. But the real fuck up is that nothing would be the same again. No matter what they say about life taking its own form and moulding you with it, it would never be the same again. There's always going to be something at the back of all minds concerned, whenever an ice cream is ordered, or the body bruised. O how I want to take this away, and make it all disappear into thin air, even the bare memory of it.
But hey I haven't got it all that bad, compare me to the guy who got the sugary news, he has to live with that brave persona, and laugh it off every single time! Or his wife, who has to make sure that everything is balanced from this day forth. Worst yet the parents, who probably feel that it's their turn to catch an ailment here and there, but not their kid, who's supposed to be at the peak of physical and mental fitness. Oooooo the irony of it all. I mean it's always when you find out about something like this, you realize that you've left all your cigarettes in the car! Laugh it off up there!
And then there are always the always gleeful pieces of shit (myself included) who want everyone to look at the bright side, and who always find one. I mean fuck off, you can't just term a side bright because it isn't as dark as another side. So take your happy faces and shove 'em! That's as much directed to me as to that cheerful ass on the road, asking humanity to smile!
But then I guess it would be like this hence forth, the new "normal" so as to say. The latest version of "right" in this version driven age of information!
"Smile, you're no more on Candid Camera, and oh yes, you're diabetic. Now don't worry, just never eat anything you want to eat and you'd be fine. O and also don't fall down or bruise yourself, and come on! You'd be just fine..."
O this is so fucking messed up! How about the old lady on the moon singing me a song now.
Gar kay dushwaar hay har kaam ka aasaan hona
Aadmi ko bhee moassar naheen insaaan hona
I mean how're you supposed to digest the fact that your best friend at 29 is diagnosed with sugar, and would be spending the rest of his life a diabetic! That's just not fair. There was a time when a piece of news you got was of a new bike, an admission into a dream university, reciprocation of that youthful true love, oh I can just go on with this list. And somehow "news" now has turned into the discovery of being diabetic. It's not the bad news I'm bitching about, but the fact that there's nothing much that you can do to help out, and you end up going into hiding because you wouldn't know how to react appropriately. I mean getting into an accident is bad news, but tolerable as long as you know that you can help out in the "nursing back to health" process.
But I'm sure like all great lessons, it would be learned how to behave and all that comes with it. O how I wish I could do something meaningful to help. Like finding out why the damn body stops producing something like insulin, and then maybe finding out how to get it back to producing it again!
See news like this affects you in so many selfish and altruistic ways. I can't even begin to explain all that. But the real fuck up is that nothing would be the same again. No matter what they say about life taking its own form and moulding you with it, it would never be the same again. There's always going to be something at the back of all minds concerned, whenever an ice cream is ordered, or the body bruised. O how I want to take this away, and make it all disappear into thin air, even the bare memory of it.
But hey I haven't got it all that bad, compare me to the guy who got the sugary news, he has to live with that brave persona, and laugh it off every single time! Or his wife, who has to make sure that everything is balanced from this day forth. Worst yet the parents, who probably feel that it's their turn to catch an ailment here and there, but not their kid, who's supposed to be at the peak of physical and mental fitness. Oooooo the irony of it all. I mean it's always when you find out about something like this, you realize that you've left all your cigarettes in the car! Laugh it off up there!
And then there are always the always gleeful pieces of shit (myself included) who want everyone to look at the bright side, and who always find one. I mean fuck off, you can't just term a side bright because it isn't as dark as another side. So take your happy faces and shove 'em! That's as much directed to me as to that cheerful ass on the road, asking humanity to smile!
But then I guess it would be like this hence forth, the new "normal" so as to say. The latest version of "right" in this version driven age of information!
"Smile, you're no more on Candid Camera, and oh yes, you're diabetic. Now don't worry, just never eat anything you want to eat and you'd be fine. O and also don't fall down or bruise yourself, and come on! You'd be just fine..."
O this is so fucking messed up! How about the old lady on the moon singing me a song now.
Gar kay dushwaar hay har kaam ka aasaan hona
Aadmi ko bhee moassar naheen insaaan hona
Monday, June 06, 2005
Sanity...Insanity
Remember that slapstick Jerry Lewis comedy, Orderly Disorderly, I don't remember it that well either, but am just thinking about it. I don't even rememeber the plot (like Jerry Lewis films had any plots), but still the name keeps ringing in my head with some vague pictures of Mr. Lewis in some totally uncomfortable position.
Yesterday I was humming a song that I have never heard in its entirety. I hate that song, it is a totally worthless and idiotic song, yet last night, until way way past my bed time, I kept humming it, until I had to get up all over again and go out to smoke, with mosquitos to keep me company (really want to invent a machine that would bite them)...
Very often I start humming this jingle from this really really excruciatingly stupid ad. It keeps doing rounds in my head. Until my head can't do anymore rounds.
Nearly every night I plan to remember the first thing I see when I wake up, and every morning I forget to notice it, and by the time I remember that I had to remember noticing that first thing, I've already forgotten about the first thing. Back in the saddle again...
The only dreams I forget as soon as I wake up are the ones I really want to remember forever, but then when do I decide which dream I want to remember forever, when I forget them as soon as I wake up.
It's always after I've said something rude and offensive that I decide not to say it. Over and over again.
Recently I've been doing so many of these sort of things, you know things you don't plan on doing but end up doing, and realizing that you have no control over them. And then you keep on doing them, until they get bored of you and move on!
Welcome back to blogging for me, it was a very interesting and lovely vacation, and I didn't miss this at all, but hey you can't really live without it now can you!
Will get a lot more personal the next time around...
Have fun.
Yesterday I was humming a song that I have never heard in its entirety. I hate that song, it is a totally worthless and idiotic song, yet last night, until way way past my bed time, I kept humming it, until I had to get up all over again and go out to smoke, with mosquitos to keep me company (really want to invent a machine that would bite them)...
Very often I start humming this jingle from this really really excruciatingly stupid ad. It keeps doing rounds in my head. Until my head can't do anymore rounds.
Nearly every night I plan to remember the first thing I see when I wake up, and every morning I forget to notice it, and by the time I remember that I had to remember noticing that first thing, I've already forgotten about the first thing. Back in the saddle again...
The only dreams I forget as soon as I wake up are the ones I really want to remember forever, but then when do I decide which dream I want to remember forever, when I forget them as soon as I wake up.
It's always after I've said something rude and offensive that I decide not to say it. Over and over again.
Recently I've been doing so many of these sort of things, you know things you don't plan on doing but end up doing, and realizing that you have no control over them. And then you keep on doing them, until they get bored of you and move on!
Welcome back to blogging for me, it was a very interesting and lovely vacation, and I didn't miss this at all, but hey you can't really live without it now can you!
Will get a lot more personal the next time around...
Have fun.
Sunday, April 03, 2005
A day...
Ever had that day where you wake up in the morning all fresh and ready to take on the world. In the best mood that you've woken up in quite a while. You spring out of the bed, sing in the shower, cut yourself shaving, and nearly hop-scotch to the office. And then suddenly your barometer goes down. Everything just slows down and starts to drag around you. Eating you up in its slow, yet certain movements. An immense effect of haze created, your being engulfed in it.
Well this has been my day so far, started out at such a high note, without any reason, and then turned into one of the most excruciating passages of time in recent memory, again due to no particular reason. It's events like this that make me think that discovering one's self is quite a task. See the way I perceive this is that there must be some reason for the mood swings the size of the suez canal, it's just that the reason (or reasons) are hidden, and beyond the waking reach, perhaps lying in the subconscious, drifting farther from reach. And the more I try to figure out the rhyme and reason, further the logic drifts from reach...
It's ambiguities like these that make me want to meet the Divinity behind all of this, to just be able to stand in the presence and get answers to these emotions.
It's really peculiar how all religions speak of all the major problems, and never once come to speak of all that lies in between. The little things that we feel day in and out, every moment of our waking existence. The things that I feel make us what we are, and keep up our evolution.
My problem is most definitely these little things, and due to these I can never reach a decision on the bigger, more obvious, clichéd things. I'm not trying to justify myself, or redeem myself, just saying what I'm feeling right now! And that can’t be too big of a crime now can it?
What say about this?
Till next time then...
Well this has been my day so far, started out at such a high note, without any reason, and then turned into one of the most excruciating passages of time in recent memory, again due to no particular reason. It's events like this that make me think that discovering one's self is quite a task. See the way I perceive this is that there must be some reason for the mood swings the size of the suez canal, it's just that the reason (or reasons) are hidden, and beyond the waking reach, perhaps lying in the subconscious, drifting farther from reach. And the more I try to figure out the rhyme and reason, further the logic drifts from reach...
It's ambiguities like these that make me want to meet the Divinity behind all of this, to just be able to stand in the presence and get answers to these emotions.
It's really peculiar how all religions speak of all the major problems, and never once come to speak of all that lies in between. The little things that we feel day in and out, every moment of our waking existence. The things that I feel make us what we are, and keep up our evolution.
My problem is most definitely these little things, and due to these I can never reach a decision on the bigger, more obvious, clichéd things. I'm not trying to justify myself, or redeem myself, just saying what I'm feeling right now! And that can’t be too big of a crime now can it?
What say about this?
Till next time then...
Tuesday, March 15, 2005
Familiar tracks
It's been a while hasn't it, nearly a month. Have I been too busy, or just plain and simple "just" busy? Not really, I mean the usual day or two of utmost insanity, followed by the mundane rituals of monotony. But things have generally been following an expected path of events and lack of events. I guess it's just that I didn't feel like writing anything, that would also explain my falling behind on email correspondence.
So what's up! Well I guess the most important event of an adult life. I shall be getting married in exactly a month from now. Wow! Me getting married! I guess some part of me would always feel like that semi-hippie college student who would never find out the meanings of the words like relationship, belonging, responsibility! Some part of me would always want to feel like those little white flowery things, I don't know what you call them, that you find floating around in the air in the summers, taking the ride of their feathery lives even when there is no wind at all. But the most important thing is that most of me is actually looking forward to this event, every moment of every day! Most of me really anticipates this stage of human evolution, where you go from the me to the us.
What's wonderful about all this is that I really cannot say exactly when, how or where was it that the most of me changed its mind to begin wanting this change. So I move on to this wonderful moment in my life, with my head held high, and brimming with a truly great kind of hope. Just like you'd look for warmth out in the cold in a January night of Islamabad.
Don't laugh, but marriage for me is like sharing your lunch. You get less of the lunch for yourself, but actually enjoy the eating together more then the food you eat.
And it relates on so many levels. See living alone (like eating alone) you can have all of your life to yourself, in your own terms. But when you share your life you live less of it doing exactly what you want to be doing at every particular moment, but you actually end up living your life. Like when you go out to eat with someone, and it doesn't really matter where you go to eat or what you order!
On another level, just like you need to grow up to appreciate the worth of sharing your meal (I mean who remembers enjoying sharing their favorite chocolate as kids), you need to grow out of yourself to embrace this concept of marriage. To accept the wonder you get from it with open arms. To realize that even though you're not having all of the wonderful leftover chicken sandwich, you're also not gobbling it down to get it over with!
Marriage is a lovely proposition to all of us who belong to the part of the world we call East. We actually begin living together after we get married, so after marriage the highs of the sudden change almost always over shadow the lows. There's always this sense of mystery, this constant state of finding out the little nuances of another living being.
Compare that to the scenario where you've already been living together, have already tasted all the highs and lows. In this situation a marriage wouldn't really signify anything, but a legal agreement to be allowed to fight over a stupid coffee mug if things go wrong. With an added incentive to get to know some wonderful lawyers in the process! Charming people, lawyers...really!
Spoke to my parents yesterday, and the white wash is almost complete. Funny thing is that a white wash has become as much a part of our weddings as the mehndi or the dholkee! But I'm sure the parents would be totally exhausted by shifting around all the stuff from one room to another to accommodate the 21st century artists who come in smelling of stale tobacco and turpentine!
Spoke to Alina the day before, and she's doing pretty fabulously juggling the semester with all the wedding mayhem. Still running along very gracefully. I doubt if I can ever be as composed in such circumstances!
Spoke to Babar the day before the day before, and he was just chilling out at a beach with Osama, wondering what the whole world was doing on their weekend! Keep it up brother.
Zeeshan's still stuck in Karachi, and I guess would be there for the wedding for just 2-3 days. Seems like this whole world has gotten busy all of a sudden, including me!
Oh and I read this wonderful book by Michael Cunningham, "A home at the end of the world". Finished it last week, and still cannot get Claire, Bobby, Jonathan and Alice out of my head. I'm sure most people I know would burn the book half way through, but it struck all the right chords, I guess it was the reality of the characters which was just too unbearably real. I don't think I've ever read a better study of human emotion, and I've read some.
So long then...
So what's up! Well I guess the most important event of an adult life. I shall be getting married in exactly a month from now. Wow! Me getting married! I guess some part of me would always feel like that semi-hippie college student who would never find out the meanings of the words like relationship, belonging, responsibility! Some part of me would always want to feel like those little white flowery things, I don't know what you call them, that you find floating around in the air in the summers, taking the ride of their feathery lives even when there is no wind at all. But the most important thing is that most of me is actually looking forward to this event, every moment of every day! Most of me really anticipates this stage of human evolution, where you go from the me to the us.
What's wonderful about all this is that I really cannot say exactly when, how or where was it that the most of me changed its mind to begin wanting this change. So I move on to this wonderful moment in my life, with my head held high, and brimming with a truly great kind of hope. Just like you'd look for warmth out in the cold in a January night of Islamabad.
Don't laugh, but marriage for me is like sharing your lunch. You get less of the lunch for yourself, but actually enjoy the eating together more then the food you eat.
And it relates on so many levels. See living alone (like eating alone) you can have all of your life to yourself, in your own terms. But when you share your life you live less of it doing exactly what you want to be doing at every particular moment, but you actually end up living your life. Like when you go out to eat with someone, and it doesn't really matter where you go to eat or what you order!
On another level, just like you need to grow up to appreciate the worth of sharing your meal (I mean who remembers enjoying sharing their favorite chocolate as kids), you need to grow out of yourself to embrace this concept of marriage. To accept the wonder you get from it with open arms. To realize that even though you're not having all of the wonderful leftover chicken sandwich, you're also not gobbling it down to get it over with!
Marriage is a lovely proposition to all of us who belong to the part of the world we call East. We actually begin living together after we get married, so after marriage the highs of the sudden change almost always over shadow the lows. There's always this sense of mystery, this constant state of finding out the little nuances of another living being.
Compare that to the scenario where you've already been living together, have already tasted all the highs and lows. In this situation a marriage wouldn't really signify anything, but a legal agreement to be allowed to fight over a stupid coffee mug if things go wrong. With an added incentive to get to know some wonderful lawyers in the process! Charming people, lawyers...really!
Spoke to my parents yesterday, and the white wash is almost complete. Funny thing is that a white wash has become as much a part of our weddings as the mehndi or the dholkee! But I'm sure the parents would be totally exhausted by shifting around all the stuff from one room to another to accommodate the 21st century artists who come in smelling of stale tobacco and turpentine!
Spoke to Alina the day before, and she's doing pretty fabulously juggling the semester with all the wedding mayhem. Still running along very gracefully. I doubt if I can ever be as composed in such circumstances!
Spoke to Babar the day before the day before, and he was just chilling out at a beach with Osama, wondering what the whole world was doing on their weekend! Keep it up brother.
Zeeshan's still stuck in Karachi, and I guess would be there for the wedding for just 2-3 days. Seems like this whole world has gotten busy all of a sudden, including me!
Oh and I read this wonderful book by Michael Cunningham, "A home at the end of the world". Finished it last week, and still cannot get Claire, Bobby, Jonathan and Alice out of my head. I'm sure most people I know would burn the book half way through, but it struck all the right chords, I guess it was the reality of the characters which was just too unbearably real. I don't think I've ever read a better study of human emotion, and I've read some.
So long then...
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
A little read and some ruminations
Let me start with a little abstract from Nightfall by Isaac Asimov. Sorry for any and all copyright infringements (not really)...
He was going mad, and knew it, and somewhere deep inside a bit of sanity was screaming, struggling to fight off the hopeless flood of black terror. It was very horrible to go mad and know that you were going mad - to know that in a little minute you would be here physically and yet all the real essence that was you would be dead and drowned in the black madness. For this was the Dark - the Dark and the Cold and the Doom. The bright walls of the universe were shattered and their awful black fragments were falling down to crush and squeeze and obliterate him.
Well a friend recommended Asimov to me (and thank you to that friend), and it was a read very well worth the while. It's amazing how you can take a simple idea, like the affect of darkness on people who live in complete light and do not know what night / darkness is, and make it an elaborately complex and truly engrossing tale. During the course of the book, I had this constant feeling that I was being made conscious of the things I'd always been aware of. Another aspect of this science fiction book (even though I never felt it was science fiction) was the humanity of its characters. All the five major characters were flawed just like all of us are, and yet they chose paths that were beyond themselves, beyond their own petty needs and greed...paths leading to what we feel is heroism, and somehow conclude to be a bit out of our reach.
It's always heartening to read about an average Joe going on, on a journey, which when viewed at microscopic details is just an series of everyday decisions that all of us make. But when you view it at the highest level of abstraction, it is a marvel! An act of extreme heroism and valor. I've always preferred these Joes over say Super Man. And I guess the reason for that is quite obvious.
But I truly feel that we need these small doses which re-establish our faith in humanity as a whole, because without it we just become directionless, self-sufficing zombies. Now these small doses can come in all sorts of forms, religious callings, small everyday observations, or reading a book that was written decades ago for some completely different purpose, but served this purpose anyway...
See as long as I can carry forward this hope that someday we would have a world without armies, without violence, theft, cruelty (both physical and mental), I feel I can carry on with this life entrusted to me. You might laugh at the naivety of this thought, heck even I might be laughing at it a week from now, but really, it just boils down to this. To be able to have faith in the goodness of our race of homo sapiens (which the dictionary defines as "bipedal primates having language and ability to make and use complex tools"), and to be able to surrender to it. See if we believe that the essence of every new born is goodness then why should this ideology be considered naive. It's always better then living with some nihilistic delusions, and letting them take control! See for me these wars being waged in the name of peace would never be anything but nihilism.
I for one believe in society and hopefully always will...may Allah be with me.
He was going mad, and knew it, and somewhere deep inside a bit of sanity was screaming, struggling to fight off the hopeless flood of black terror. It was very horrible to go mad and know that you were going mad - to know that in a little minute you would be here physically and yet all the real essence that was you would be dead and drowned in the black madness. For this was the Dark - the Dark and the Cold and the Doom. The bright walls of the universe were shattered and their awful black fragments were falling down to crush and squeeze and obliterate him.
Well a friend recommended Asimov to me (and thank you to that friend), and it was a read very well worth the while. It's amazing how you can take a simple idea, like the affect of darkness on people who live in complete light and do not know what night / darkness is, and make it an elaborately complex and truly engrossing tale. During the course of the book, I had this constant feeling that I was being made conscious of the things I'd always been aware of. Another aspect of this science fiction book (even though I never felt it was science fiction) was the humanity of its characters. All the five major characters were flawed just like all of us are, and yet they chose paths that were beyond themselves, beyond their own petty needs and greed...paths leading to what we feel is heroism, and somehow conclude to be a bit out of our reach.
It's always heartening to read about an average Joe going on, on a journey, which when viewed at microscopic details is just an series of everyday decisions that all of us make. But when you view it at the highest level of abstraction, it is a marvel! An act of extreme heroism and valor. I've always preferred these Joes over say Super Man. And I guess the reason for that is quite obvious.
But I truly feel that we need these small doses which re-establish our faith in humanity as a whole, because without it we just become directionless, self-sufficing zombies. Now these small doses can come in all sorts of forms, religious callings, small everyday observations, or reading a book that was written decades ago for some completely different purpose, but served this purpose anyway...
See as long as I can carry forward this hope that someday we would have a world without armies, without violence, theft, cruelty (both physical and mental), I feel I can carry on with this life entrusted to me. You might laugh at the naivety of this thought, heck even I might be laughing at it a week from now, but really, it just boils down to this. To be able to have faith in the goodness of our race of homo sapiens (which the dictionary defines as "bipedal primates having language and ability to make and use complex tools"), and to be able to surrender to it. See if we believe that the essence of every new born is goodness then why should this ideology be considered naive. It's always better then living with some nihilistic delusions, and letting them take control! See for me these wars being waged in the name of peace would never be anything but nihilism.
I for one believe in society and hopefully always will...may Allah be with me.
Sunday, February 13, 2005
Welcome back
We never give a flu or a cold much importance in our lives, they're like those uncles who you meet every other wedding you attend. Whose hands you shake warmly, with big and nearly honest smiles, and then move on. Most probably to the table that's serving the pudding! Well this past week I was hanging out with both the uncles, cold and flu, accompanied by their school chum, the fever. This was perhaps the most elaborate rendezvous I've had with them. I am sure my mother would have some horrid memories of some encounter I had with them as a toddler, but this is the one for me as far as my memory is concerned. Which isn't really something to brag about, memory I mean, to site an example a friend of mine sent me back a substantial amount of money, saying she owed me that money, and I still don't remember how, why, when or where!
Three cheers for me...
So finally today I said farewell to these uncles, and dragged myself to work, and dragged myself in nearly the literal sense. Amazing how lazy you can get with just 3 days on the bed. Couple that with the re-runs of all your favorite shows (there was even a special of Mork and Mindy), and you never want to leave! O I wanted so much to just break the alarm clock and go back to my dreams in techni-colour (for a change)! And another good change was the smell of the morning air, and only the people who've breathed in it would know how refreshing that can be.
Who am I kidding, I'd still have preferred to be in my room, just surfing channels and catching Sienfeld and Mork&Mindy re-runs...
So what've I accomplished since last time I blogged:
1) Desert Safari (fun at place, like dune bashing and camel rides)
2) Full recovery from viral infections (a craze in changing weathers)
3) Before Sunset (a complete post shall be dedicated to that)
4) Other movies that I really wanted to see, Sideways, Black, etc (all good, very good)
The rest of my world, well the whole family is busy with the wedding preparations, Alina I'm sure is on the verge of going nuts, balancing the wedding and her semester, Aijaz on cross-roads of a major decision, Shaan chilling out in Khi and probably still wondering what he's doing there, Shah g learning the ropes in Australia, and Babar, well we both know how we feel, so...
Next time!
Three cheers for me...
So finally today I said farewell to these uncles, and dragged myself to work, and dragged myself in nearly the literal sense. Amazing how lazy you can get with just 3 days on the bed. Couple that with the re-runs of all your favorite shows (there was even a special of Mork and Mindy), and you never want to leave! O I wanted so much to just break the alarm clock and go back to my dreams in techni-colour (for a change)! And another good change was the smell of the morning air, and only the people who've breathed in it would know how refreshing that can be.
Who am I kidding, I'd still have preferred to be in my room, just surfing channels and catching Sienfeld and Mork&Mindy re-runs...
So what've I accomplished since last time I blogged:
1) Desert Safari (fun at place, like dune bashing and camel rides)
2) Full recovery from viral infections (a craze in changing weathers)
3) Before Sunset (a complete post shall be dedicated to that)
4) Other movies that I really wanted to see, Sideways, Black, etc (all good, very good)
The rest of my world, well the whole family is busy with the wedding preparations, Alina I'm sure is on the verge of going nuts, balancing the wedding and her semester, Aijaz on cross-roads of a major decision, Shaan chilling out in Khi and probably still wondering what he's doing there, Shah g learning the ropes in Australia, and Babar, well we both know how we feel, so...
Next time!
Saturday, February 05, 2005
A little break
The funny thing is that we always keep trying to break the monotony. Little moves are made, strategies thought up, plans brought forward, all to break that dreaded monotony! See it's just not the "mono" age anymore. This is the "hi-fi stereo" age, where everything has to be dynamic and constantly changing. I guess our acceptance and appreciation for each other has ended. Is this the reason that now when you hear marriage, you automatically think divorce? When you hear of some blossoming high-school romance, you know it's doomed! Even friendships these days have somehow become fickle, and keep changing at a mercurial rate!
See I remember my grandmother and how happy she was getting up at 4-5 in the morning, offering her Fajr prayers, reciting the Quran, then heaving two pieces of bread with tea...Every single day I saw her do that (of course until she lost her sight, and then her mind), and still when I shut my eyes to think of peace, I can see her sitting on her little bed, her little hands going over the large version of the Quran. Her copy of the Quran was just huge, the biggest I've seen yet!
She never complained of monotony, she never rallied with her neighbours for equal rights, she never even complained when she was treated like shit in her last days in this world. It isn't that she wasn't educated, her very early morning routine was followed by a late morning routine of reading the news paper, always. She was fully aware of all that surrounded her, all the changes happening in this world about her. I think (even though I'm not sure) that she was there at the public address in which Liaqat Ali Khan was shot. I'm sure she was there every time a new KL Saighal film was released.
See she was at peace with her life, she didn't long for change, she knew how to appreciate how wonderful things were as they were. And it's not like she had it easy. Lost her husband quite early. Then saw her grown son at the peak of his youth die the most tragic death. She was also witness to some extreme financial upheavals. But she trod on, steady and sure. Always calm, at peace, and loving it. Not trying to overcome any monotony but just making most of whatever was thrown her way.
And now, now I see all these friends, family, people in general around me. All have one thing in common, they are all restless, as if trying to break free from earth's orbit. I am probably front row among all these people, who want change, but have no idea what that change is.
See even the movies we love are the ones in which something unexpected happens, and even our reality shows have nothing to do the with the reality of life. We just see glimpses of the changes we would love so much in these shows.
I guess the solution to all this is slowing down, we are moving too fast to feel what we are feeling at the moment, we are always interested in what lies ahead. I guess this is the ideal time to take up fortune telling as a profession. A Masters in Palmistry or something, because everyone is interested in that, and there's definitely a big buck in that!
But I feel that if we slow down, relax and just look around us, and fully absorb all that surrounds us, this restlessness would seize to exist, and then maybe, just maybe, we'd all be like my grandmother...
Happy with what we have, and not dying of desperation for what we want!
OK, that's enough bleak thoughts for now! Hey, not bleak, but hopeful thoughts! Yeah right!
So yesterday my mother and Alina went over to buy the bridal dress for Alina, and also evaluated the options that would make me resemble a clown the most on the wedding day. That must've been fun.
Hey Osama showed up out of nowhere, on an 8 hour notice, and well, this week should be nice! See the monotony broken. Ha ha!
Had a nice long chat with Babar today, and want to save some portions with me, so I'd just paste them here.
fraz_nayyar: waisay when usama called me day before at night and said he was coming, i thought u'd be giving a surprise as well, kay daikh fuzzay main aa gaya, visa lag gaya
mbabarhaq: kaash
fraz_nayyar: wohee na
fraz_nayyar: kaashhhh...
.
.
.
fraz_nayyar: yaadaain...
fraz_nayyar: waaday...
fraz_nayyar: awaaz daytay na KAASHHhhh...
fraz_nayyar: ha ha
mbabarhaq: uffffffff how good were all the khookas and our meeting
mbabarhaq: even if we met once a week it really provide a lot of comfort
fraz_nayyar: haan, and i never really appreciated that fully
fraz_nayyar: the importance of just sitting there with the flies and cups of tea and sub standard cigarettes!
mbabarhaq: qasam say
mbabarhaq: lying on the manjees
fraz_nayyar: hai! aur woh jo baan kay nishaan par jaatay thay haatoan par
fraz_nayyar: ustaad g cheeni thoree ghat rakhna
mbabarhaq: uffff kitnee freedom theee
mbabarhaq: raaat koo 12 bajay muree bike per
mbabarhaq: sounds like a fantasy
fraz_nayyar: i just took a very very long breath
fraz_nayyar: jaa rahay hain, urtay huay
fraz_nayyar: burrrrrrrrrrrrrrmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
fraz_nayyar: babar token daaal
fraz_nayyar: beech main taqreebna game over bhee ho gaya tha
.
.
.
fraz_nayyar: waisay babar honestly, ab naheen lagta aisa time phir aayay ga
mbabarhaq: yup lagta tu yoon hee hai
mbabarhaq: but if we get together tu who knoes
mbabarhaq: might get the energy again
fraz_nayyar: haan yeh to hai
fraz_nayyar: waisay energy kee jab zaroorat partee hai to nikal hee aatee hai!
mbabarhaq: woheee na
mbabarhaq: ufff v swam all the way to my place
mbabarhaq: and worked non stop for hours and hours
fraz_nayyar: ha ha
fraz_nayyar: yaara woh to main bhool hee gaya tha
fraz_nayyar: nobody wud believe that waisay
mbabarhaq: threw away our mid term paper just like that
fraz_nayyar: that we swam to ur place wearing our boots
fraz_nayyar: haha
fraz_nayyar: got a 1 in that course
fraz_nayyar: waisay i blew away a mid twice, once with Aijaz, and teh otehr time with u
.
.
.
But the game never got over, and well that's good isn't it! Is it?
Next time then!
See I remember my grandmother and how happy she was getting up at 4-5 in the morning, offering her Fajr prayers, reciting the Quran, then heaving two pieces of bread with tea...Every single day I saw her do that (of course until she lost her sight, and then her mind), and still when I shut my eyes to think of peace, I can see her sitting on her little bed, her little hands going over the large version of the Quran. Her copy of the Quran was just huge, the biggest I've seen yet!
She never complained of monotony, she never rallied with her neighbours for equal rights, she never even complained when she was treated like shit in her last days in this world. It isn't that she wasn't educated, her very early morning routine was followed by a late morning routine of reading the news paper, always. She was fully aware of all that surrounded her, all the changes happening in this world about her. I think (even though I'm not sure) that she was there at the public address in which Liaqat Ali Khan was shot. I'm sure she was there every time a new KL Saighal film was released.
See she was at peace with her life, she didn't long for change, she knew how to appreciate how wonderful things were as they were. And it's not like she had it easy. Lost her husband quite early. Then saw her grown son at the peak of his youth die the most tragic death. She was also witness to some extreme financial upheavals. But she trod on, steady and sure. Always calm, at peace, and loving it. Not trying to overcome any monotony but just making most of whatever was thrown her way.
And now, now I see all these friends, family, people in general around me. All have one thing in common, they are all restless, as if trying to break free from earth's orbit. I am probably front row among all these people, who want change, but have no idea what that change is.
See even the movies we love are the ones in which something unexpected happens, and even our reality shows have nothing to do the with the reality of life. We just see glimpses of the changes we would love so much in these shows.
I guess the solution to all this is slowing down, we are moving too fast to feel what we are feeling at the moment, we are always interested in what lies ahead. I guess this is the ideal time to take up fortune telling as a profession. A Masters in Palmistry or something, because everyone is interested in that, and there's definitely a big buck in that!
But I feel that if we slow down, relax and just look around us, and fully absorb all that surrounds us, this restlessness would seize to exist, and then maybe, just maybe, we'd all be like my grandmother...
Happy with what we have, and not dying of desperation for what we want!
OK, that's enough bleak thoughts for now! Hey, not bleak, but hopeful thoughts! Yeah right!
So yesterday my mother and Alina went over to buy the bridal dress for Alina, and also evaluated the options that would make me resemble a clown the most on the wedding day. That must've been fun.
Hey Osama showed up out of nowhere, on an 8 hour notice, and well, this week should be nice! See the monotony broken. Ha ha!
Had a nice long chat with Babar today, and want to save some portions with me, so I'd just paste them here.
fraz_nayyar: waisay when usama called me day before at night and said he was coming, i thought u'd be giving a surprise as well, kay daikh fuzzay main aa gaya, visa lag gaya
mbabarhaq: kaash
fraz_nayyar: wohee na
fraz_nayyar: kaashhhh...
.
.
.
fraz_nayyar: yaadaain...
fraz_nayyar: waaday...
fraz_nayyar: awaaz daytay na KAASHHhhh...
fraz_nayyar: ha ha
mbabarhaq: uffffffff how good were all the khookas and our meeting
mbabarhaq: even if we met once a week it really provide a lot of comfort
fraz_nayyar: haan, and i never really appreciated that fully
fraz_nayyar: the importance of just sitting there with the flies and cups of tea and sub standard cigarettes!
mbabarhaq: qasam say
mbabarhaq: lying on the manjees
fraz_nayyar: hai! aur woh jo baan kay nishaan par jaatay thay haatoan par
fraz_nayyar: ustaad g cheeni thoree ghat rakhna
mbabarhaq: uffff kitnee freedom theee
mbabarhaq: raaat koo 12 bajay muree bike per
mbabarhaq: sounds like a fantasy
fraz_nayyar: i just took a very very long breath
fraz_nayyar: jaa rahay hain, urtay huay
fraz_nayyar: burrrrrrrrrrrrrrmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
fraz_nayyar: babar token daaal
fraz_nayyar: beech main taqreebna game over bhee ho gaya tha
.
.
.
fraz_nayyar: waisay babar honestly, ab naheen lagta aisa time phir aayay ga
mbabarhaq: yup lagta tu yoon hee hai
mbabarhaq: but if we get together tu who knoes
mbabarhaq: might get the energy again
fraz_nayyar: haan yeh to hai
fraz_nayyar: waisay energy kee jab zaroorat partee hai to nikal hee aatee hai!
mbabarhaq: woheee na
mbabarhaq: ufff v swam all the way to my place
mbabarhaq: and worked non stop for hours and hours
fraz_nayyar: ha ha
fraz_nayyar: yaara woh to main bhool hee gaya tha
fraz_nayyar: nobody wud believe that waisay
mbabarhaq: threw away our mid term paper just like that
fraz_nayyar: that we swam to ur place wearing our boots
fraz_nayyar: haha
fraz_nayyar: got a 1 in that course
fraz_nayyar: waisay i blew away a mid twice, once with Aijaz, and teh otehr time with u
.
.
.
But the game never got over, and well that's good isn't it! Is it?
Next time then!
Thursday, January 27, 2005
A short story...
Demons by Ross Parson
Down on the hard, wet, sand, a man raced past, disappearing into the night fog. Their eyes followed him, then turned to watch for his pursuer.
"Just his own demons, I guess."
"Got any yourself ?"
"Just you sweetie."
"He'll run out of beach...or breath."
"Or, hopefully, demons."
"I guess it's always a race"
Down on the hard, wet, sand, a man raced past, disappearing into the night fog. Their eyes followed him, then turned to watch for his pursuer.
"Just his own demons, I guess."
"Got any yourself ?"
"Just you sweetie."
"He'll run out of beach...or breath."
"Or, hopefully, demons."
"I guess it's always a race"
Monday, January 24, 2005
Of Death and defiance
Was just chatting with Aijaz, the usual mindless banter of two people stuck in office with not really much to do for the day, and somehow, we struck upon the topic of death. Yes it was discussing the death of Parveen Babi, a glam doll of the 60s and 70s of the Indian cinema. Well she was found dead in her apartment after the neighbours complained of a collecting pile of news papers and milk bottles outside her house. She had apparently been dead for over two days, due to either a medical overdose or gangrine.
A stralet loved by millions, fantacized about by thousands, found dead, all alone, probably rotting. Once deemed the most beautiful woman of her era, now long forgotten like some small act of kindness.
An excerpt from the chat:
Mohican says:
haan waisay parveen babi's death depressed me, lying dead in flat for over 2 days
Mohican says:
no friends no family
Mohican says:
i wudn't want to go alone, i wud want to be surrounded
Mohican says:
no
@ñKÂHi ® says:
you won't die alone
@ñKÂHi ® says:
I know that
Mohican says:
i take that back, i guess death is something you should experience in the privacy of your company and none other
Mohican says:
what do you say?
@ñKÂHi ® says:
haan it is a personal thing
@ñKÂHi ® says:
maghar you won't be alone
Mohican says:
waisay at time of death i;m sure we wudn't even give a shit if we are alone or not, we'd just be thinking O SHIT! we're dead! ha ha
@ñKÂHi ® says:
"office mayn aik adad bed hona chahiyay" quotes Omair Hameed, my office seat neigbour
Mohican says:
ha ha! true, waisay right now i really want to stretch my back, not sleep, just stretch my back
.
.
.
@ñKÂHi ® says:
wish someday tu waapis aajaa yaar
@ñKÂHi ® says:
before this life goes waapis
@ñKÂHi ® says:
pata nahin I don't believe that we will live long
@ñKÂHi ® says:
anyways....
.
.
.
Mohican says:
same here buddy, either that or we'd live one of those extremely long, never ending lives
.
.
.
Mohican says:
no moderation, just extremes
@ñKÂHi ® says:
yup
@ñKÂHi ® says:
agreed
So that was the brief conversation we had, that's left me thinking, or rather pondering death. Questions like would I be petrified when my time comes? Would I shit in my pants? Would I even be allowed the dignity of being dressed when the time comes? Or Would I be waiting for it patiently, knwoing that the time's come? Would I be full of grace leaving at the departure gate of this planet?
I've witnessed a few deaths in my life, people that I loved quite a bit. The first was my grandfather (father's side), but I was really too small to realize the implications. But I remember it was a fit of tremendous rage to remove all the intravenous drips and the catheter. An old old man getting up with a furious burst of energy pulling all these cords out of his body, and then in a moment just going limp, falling back, face totally devoid of expression. The doctors termed it a major heart attack (or was it a stroke)...
Second time I witnessed death was when my grandmother (mother's side) crossed over to the other side. This time I was a bit older (though not that much), and in all reality much more attached to her. You see in her failing times she stayed in my room for a while, and it was nice to have her there, although she had forgotten more or less everything, but did recongize a thing of two when I pulled some act to cheer her up or just shut her up...oh I am so sorry for that...
I remember death coming slowly to her. Doctors had already sent her home, nothing they could do...I remember her breathing most, I mean she was breathing, then the breathing got quicker, louder, and then even louder. At the end it was the breathing of an 18 year old after a 20 mile run. So strong, I never thought her frail chest was capable of that. And then it ended in these little wheezes.
She drifts away...
Third and last time was the recent past, when my favourite uncle passed away. Now this was probably the most paranormal of all. I was staying with him at the hospital in the nights, with his son. I remmeber he was taken to the hospital in very bad shape, and he improved there, became stable. It's strange how weak the lungs of these tall strong men were!
Anyway the doctors even sent him home for Eid. So that he could spend it with family. The eid was good, the ending of it wasn't. I remember him asking me at the end of the day that he'd just need two more days of my time, and since he was doing so well, of course he meant two days to recovery. Right sure. So late that night we took him back to the hospital. Exactly two days later just after he was in the best of spirit; he got off his bed, came sat with us on our bench, complimented the slippers I wore, and then he got up and sat down on the ground. We asked him why he was doing that. His reply was simple, he did not need beds anymore! Exactly two hours later he was dead, exactly two days after he asked for another two days from me. What I remember about his passing was that in his last moment he did not break eye contact with his younger son (they always had a special link, like from a De Maurier novel), and just kept looking into them, without blinking as life lost him. But he was always calm and collected, looking into the eyes of his beloved son...
Now how would this inevitable passage be for me? Would it be in the bounds of a rage? Would it be when I am scared witless and shaking? Would it be that I'd know the time's come and accept it, and move on? Of course I can't say! I hope it's the last, but I'd never know till I know I guess! Ha ha. But the question I'm thinking about mostly is that would I want the ones I love and cherish around me at that moment?
See death is probably when you are most vunerable after your birth. Totally defenseless, in the middle of the grandest stage, stark naked, having forgotten all the lines and the name of the play! Now the people I love, I adore are also the people I hope love and adore me. And with love and adoration comes respect. I would want them to respect me the way I respect them. And I would want them to remember me as I am today, looking up to the rising sun, running hard...the good run.
I wouldn't want them to remember me at that final moment where I'd probably have no control over myself...
So yes, when it is time to go, I'd rather go alone, walk the final walk with myself to give me company. And if it's an exit that is graceful then I would always remember that about me, and if not, then I'm sure I'll keep my own little secert!
Time shall tell!
A stralet loved by millions, fantacized about by thousands, found dead, all alone, probably rotting. Once deemed the most beautiful woman of her era, now long forgotten like some small act of kindness.
An excerpt from the chat:
Mohican says:
haan waisay parveen babi's death depressed me, lying dead in flat for over 2 days
Mohican says:
no friends no family
Mohican says:
i wudn't want to go alone, i wud want to be surrounded
Mohican says:
no
@ñKÂHi ® says:
you won't die alone
@ñKÂHi ® says:
I know that
Mohican says:
i take that back, i guess death is something you should experience in the privacy of your company and none other
Mohican says:
what do you say?
@ñKÂHi ® says:
haan it is a personal thing
@ñKÂHi ® says:
maghar you won't be alone
Mohican says:
waisay at time of death i;m sure we wudn't even give a shit if we are alone or not, we'd just be thinking O SHIT! we're dead! ha ha
@ñKÂHi ® says:
"office mayn aik adad bed hona chahiyay" quotes Omair Hameed, my office seat neigbour
Mohican says:
ha ha! true, waisay right now i really want to stretch my back, not sleep, just stretch my back
.
.
.
@ñKÂHi ® says:
wish someday tu waapis aajaa yaar
@ñKÂHi ® says:
before this life goes waapis
@ñKÂHi ® says:
pata nahin I don't believe that we will live long
@ñKÂHi ® says:
anyways....
.
.
.
Mohican says:
same here buddy, either that or we'd live one of those extremely long, never ending lives
.
.
.
Mohican says:
no moderation, just extremes
@ñKÂHi ® says:
yup
@ñKÂHi ® says:
agreed
So that was the brief conversation we had, that's left me thinking, or rather pondering death. Questions like would I be petrified when my time comes? Would I shit in my pants? Would I even be allowed the dignity of being dressed when the time comes? Or Would I be waiting for it patiently, knwoing that the time's come? Would I be full of grace leaving at the departure gate of this planet?
I've witnessed a few deaths in my life, people that I loved quite a bit. The first was my grandfather (father's side), but I was really too small to realize the implications. But I remember it was a fit of tremendous rage to remove all the intravenous drips and the catheter. An old old man getting up with a furious burst of energy pulling all these cords out of his body, and then in a moment just going limp, falling back, face totally devoid of expression. The doctors termed it a major heart attack (or was it a stroke)...
Second time I witnessed death was when my grandmother (mother's side) crossed over to the other side. This time I was a bit older (though not that much), and in all reality much more attached to her. You see in her failing times she stayed in my room for a while, and it was nice to have her there, although she had forgotten more or less everything, but did recongize a thing of two when I pulled some act to cheer her up or just shut her up...oh I am so sorry for that...
I remember death coming slowly to her. Doctors had already sent her home, nothing they could do...I remember her breathing most, I mean she was breathing, then the breathing got quicker, louder, and then even louder. At the end it was the breathing of an 18 year old after a 20 mile run. So strong, I never thought her frail chest was capable of that. And then it ended in these little wheezes.
She drifts away...
Third and last time was the recent past, when my favourite uncle passed away. Now this was probably the most paranormal of all. I was staying with him at the hospital in the nights, with his son. I remmeber he was taken to the hospital in very bad shape, and he improved there, became stable. It's strange how weak the lungs of these tall strong men were!
Anyway the doctors even sent him home for Eid. So that he could spend it with family. The eid was good, the ending of it wasn't. I remember him asking me at the end of the day that he'd just need two more days of my time, and since he was doing so well, of course he meant two days to recovery. Right sure. So late that night we took him back to the hospital. Exactly two days later just after he was in the best of spirit; he got off his bed, came sat with us on our bench, complimented the slippers I wore, and then he got up and sat down on the ground. We asked him why he was doing that. His reply was simple, he did not need beds anymore! Exactly two hours later he was dead, exactly two days after he asked for another two days from me. What I remember about his passing was that in his last moment he did not break eye contact with his younger son (they always had a special link, like from a De Maurier novel), and just kept looking into them, without blinking as life lost him. But he was always calm and collected, looking into the eyes of his beloved son...
Now how would this inevitable passage be for me? Would it be in the bounds of a rage? Would it be when I am scared witless and shaking? Would it be that I'd know the time's come and accept it, and move on? Of course I can't say! I hope it's the last, but I'd never know till I know I guess! Ha ha. But the question I'm thinking about mostly is that would I want the ones I love and cherish around me at that moment?
See death is probably when you are most vunerable after your birth. Totally defenseless, in the middle of the grandest stage, stark naked, having forgotten all the lines and the name of the play! Now the people I love, I adore are also the people I hope love and adore me. And with love and adoration comes respect. I would want them to respect me the way I respect them. And I would want them to remember me as I am today, looking up to the rising sun, running hard...the good run.
I wouldn't want them to remember me at that final moment where I'd probably have no control over myself...
So yes, when it is time to go, I'd rather go alone, walk the final walk with myself to give me company. And if it's an exit that is graceful then I would always remember that about me, and if not, then I'm sure I'll keep my own little secert!
Time shall tell!
Saturday, January 22, 2005
And Eid flies by
Hmm...that was quick (and thank God for that)! I am sure I've said this more then once, but I'll say it again, these sort of festive events should only come when you are with your family! And by family I don't just mean my wife, my parents, but the whole crew of about 35 people. My aunts, uncles, cousins, and their kids! Everyday I realize how much I love them, and how much they mean to me.
Now to come to this Eid. I guess the highlight would be when we went to offer the Eid prayers at 7 in the morning, and it was drizzling, with a strong wind. Ofcourse I had brought no warm clothes with me. (Come on, how cold can it get in a desert! Answer to that, pretty cold!) But I think even if I had my warm clothes with me, I would have avoided them. See it's just brilliant when the cold morning wind breezes into your soul, with a little bit of rain. Ummmmmm...delicious!
So Eid was good, and Waseem chacha (Alina's uncle) and family made it really comfortable for me, bless them! And chachee was kind enough to make some delicious vegetarian food for me, respecting my vegetarian habits for this time of the year, and well, the food was enticing, in an honest way! See when the food is good then half the battle is won, more then half for me, ha ha. Ofcourse the reel of family pictures kept floating in front of my eyes, and I had my low moments, but hey, that WAS due to happen.
O and I also finally went to the famed Global Village, and even that was better then expected, or atleast the death defying rides sure were! See what they have going there is that the area marked for the festival is considered a globe, and different countries are mapped onto it! Just think of a country and it's there, and watching all the different cultures, their music, their clothes is quite a heartening experience. I mean you grow up reading geography, and about all these different countries, but to see people from all these countries gathered together in a 4 square mile radius, Wow! (that's my assumption, don't go by it, most probably it totally inaccurate)
See I've always been aware that this little planet of ours is a big place, but that night I was conscious of it. All these people from all these countries, so different in so many ways, and yet still the same. Once again I plead to this world, stop the Goddamn senseless killing! We're all more or less the same, then what's the freaking point! OK, I am not going down that tunnel right now.
Yes, the rides, well I did manage to sit in this totally exorbitant ride, one of those "take you to the threshold of life and death" experiences. See you are encapsulated in a roller coaster kind of chest cover (and thank God for that), and are rotated at furiously fast speeds in a ginormous vertical circle, in both clockwise and anticlockwise directions, and the seat you are sitting in is also rotating, in all possible manners of rotation. Totally like earth's trip round the sun, just a lot more erratic and out of control. And to top it off, yes, it was drizzling, and to feel tiny droplets of water on your face at that height and speed...hmm...what was that expression? Ha ha.
You know when I came over to this desert, the one thing I dreaded most was that there would be no rain, and well, it's rained here, it's hailed here, it's been a combination of all sorts of my favorite violent weather.
O and I also took my uncle's kids with me, so it was my group of friends (all in their mid to late twenties and some into their thirties) and my uncle's son and daughter (in their teens, son 14teen, daughter 18teen). And I just watched in amazement how these two sects (if I may be allowed to call them) blended in. See we in our late twenties are really missing that wonderful college / school life, and we haven't totally forgotten about it, and can't but go back. And the residents of the teens can't wait to graduate and enter the so called adult life, job, apartment, car, etc etc. So for a change both the sects were totally fond of each other, and admired each other, and above all, wanted to be each other! That's why I was wondering if I can call them sects, cause you hear sects and the first thing that comes to mind is undiluted bouts of loathing. And most of my friends went to the same school as my cousins were now attending. The same school, the same syllabus, just about a decade ago! Wow! And at the end of the day the only difference was that the idols changed, the fashions changed, and the rest, all the same. Even some of the teachers survived. And you can always spend weeks talking about all those teachers you thought were from Mars ten years ago, with these teenagers who think they are from Mars in present day!
And yes, boys and girls are like totally different species in their teens. See as time passes by, I think the male and female specimens learn to co-exist, we find out things that both can go through with a smile on the face, and we keep on doing those things, and of course there's the rare boys night out and the girls night out, to bring back some sanity! But in the teens, well, in the teens...
The boy (under the knife of my observation) was just keen to tell the universe how brave, and strong and fearless he was, and how no rules existed for him. How the "sun was totally uncool, and the night was it!" And the girl, well she was totally bent upon showing how grown up and mature and adult she is, and of course how she feels that Hillary Duff is the most intelligent person in this world! OK, now that's taking it a bit far...But to sum it up, I guess the girls want to carry more of a Katherine Hepburn (we still love you) aura, and the boys want to be more of 2 Pac figures. Disagree anyone?
I guess this is enough rambling for now.
Oh and Eid Mubarak!
Now to come to this Eid. I guess the highlight would be when we went to offer the Eid prayers at 7 in the morning, and it was drizzling, with a strong wind. Ofcourse I had brought no warm clothes with me. (Come on, how cold can it get in a desert! Answer to that, pretty cold!) But I think even if I had my warm clothes with me, I would have avoided them. See it's just brilliant when the cold morning wind breezes into your soul, with a little bit of rain. Ummmmmm...delicious!
So Eid was good, and Waseem chacha (Alina's uncle) and family made it really comfortable for me, bless them! And chachee was kind enough to make some delicious vegetarian food for me, respecting my vegetarian habits for this time of the year, and well, the food was enticing, in an honest way! See when the food is good then half the battle is won, more then half for me, ha ha. Ofcourse the reel of family pictures kept floating in front of my eyes, and I had my low moments, but hey, that WAS due to happen.
O and I also finally went to the famed Global Village, and even that was better then expected, or atleast the death defying rides sure were! See what they have going there is that the area marked for the festival is considered a globe, and different countries are mapped onto it! Just think of a country and it's there, and watching all the different cultures, their music, their clothes is quite a heartening experience. I mean you grow up reading geography, and about all these different countries, but to see people from all these countries gathered together in a 4 square mile radius, Wow! (that's my assumption, don't go by it, most probably it totally inaccurate)
See I've always been aware that this little planet of ours is a big place, but that night I was conscious of it. All these people from all these countries, so different in so many ways, and yet still the same. Once again I plead to this world, stop the Goddamn senseless killing! We're all more or less the same, then what's the freaking point! OK, I am not going down that tunnel right now.
Yes, the rides, well I did manage to sit in this totally exorbitant ride, one of those "take you to the threshold of life and death" experiences. See you are encapsulated in a roller coaster kind of chest cover (and thank God for that), and are rotated at furiously fast speeds in a ginormous vertical circle, in both clockwise and anticlockwise directions, and the seat you are sitting in is also rotating, in all possible manners of rotation. Totally like earth's trip round the sun, just a lot more erratic and out of control. And to top it off, yes, it was drizzling, and to feel tiny droplets of water on your face at that height and speed...hmm...what was that expression? Ha ha.
You know when I came over to this desert, the one thing I dreaded most was that there would be no rain, and well, it's rained here, it's hailed here, it's been a combination of all sorts of my favorite violent weather.
O and I also took my uncle's kids with me, so it was my group of friends (all in their mid to late twenties and some into their thirties) and my uncle's son and daughter (in their teens, son 14teen, daughter 18teen). And I just watched in amazement how these two sects (if I may be allowed to call them) blended in. See we in our late twenties are really missing that wonderful college / school life, and we haven't totally forgotten about it, and can't but go back. And the residents of the teens can't wait to graduate and enter the so called adult life, job, apartment, car, etc etc. So for a change both the sects were totally fond of each other, and admired each other, and above all, wanted to be each other! That's why I was wondering if I can call them sects, cause you hear sects and the first thing that comes to mind is undiluted bouts of loathing. And most of my friends went to the same school as my cousins were now attending. The same school, the same syllabus, just about a decade ago! Wow! And at the end of the day the only difference was that the idols changed, the fashions changed, and the rest, all the same. Even some of the teachers survived. And you can always spend weeks talking about all those teachers you thought were from Mars ten years ago, with these teenagers who think they are from Mars in present day!
And yes, boys and girls are like totally different species in their teens. See as time passes by, I think the male and female specimens learn to co-exist, we find out things that both can go through with a smile on the face, and we keep on doing those things, and of course there's the rare boys night out and the girls night out, to bring back some sanity! But in the teens, well, in the teens...
The boy (under the knife of my observation) was just keen to tell the universe how brave, and strong and fearless he was, and how no rules existed for him. How the "sun was totally uncool, and the night was it!" And the girl, well she was totally bent upon showing how grown up and mature and adult she is, and of course how she feels that Hillary Duff is the most intelligent person in this world! OK, now that's taking it a bit far...But to sum it up, I guess the girls want to carry more of a Katherine Hepburn (we still love you) aura, and the boys want to be more of 2 Pac figures. Disagree anyone?
I guess this is enough rambling for now.
Oh and Eid Mubarak!
Tuesday, January 18, 2005
Fading / Dissolving
I've been meaning to come to blog, an activity that's fast becoming my favorite. But somehow never got around to it. Not that I didn't have time, but because had too many thoughts and didn't know what to do with them. It really is true that the lesser you talk the more you think, and I've been doing that for some time now. Mind you, I do not speak of constructive and "help the humanity" thoughts, but just thoughts, one coming and another fading, while the other dissolving into another becoming a new thought, and then a newer thought.
Am I making sense?
When was the last time I lay down, flat out, on the ground and conjured up shapes out of scattered clouds? I swear I saw a dancing ballerina the other day in the sky, after so long, so so long! When was the last time I admired migrating birds, and marveled at how systematic, determined, and focused they were? I swear I saw a whole flock of them, darting through the skies like a speeding arrow! These days I've been doing all these things, doing all this because I'm not saying much, but thinking a lot. Does it all add up? Ever?
Last weekend I went to the movies with Yousuf and Faryal, and their lovely daughter, whose recently learned to walk (well about 2 months recently). And now when you go out with her, there's no stopping her. She does not want to be carried any more, she just wants to carry her self far far away on her own two little feet. In these last two years I've basically been watching movies every time I go to the cinemas, but this time I went to the movies, where the objective really isn't to watch the movie, but to enjoy the whole charade! Of course Mano went bonkers in the second half of the movie, and from then on, there was a movie going on, on screen, and another (much more interesting and entertaining) movie going on on the seat next to mine. You just couldn't contain the kid! Bless her! I wonder if anything can be more refreshing then the tantrums thrown by kids...I'm sure Yousuf would disagree who missed the ending of the movie because he had to go out of the cinema with the kid!
Last night I got home quite late (after an unsuccessful attempt to resurrect a system from viruses), and was totally drained. Had a hard day at work yesterday, and then the failed virus removal exercise. But instead of walking into my room and hitting the bed immediately, I just walked around, in circles literally. The same roads again and again. And it felt good, just doing the rounds of the streets of my neighborhood like a security guard, making sure that everything's in place.
So Eid's coming up, and I remember mentioning in some previous post that I was looking forward to two things, one new years, and two the Eid. At new year's I was supposed to have a blast, and at Eid I was supposed to get depressed. Well I guess I can still keep the second of the two promises! I'm just thinking what everyone would be up to right now back home! Yep, I have a full picture, and I really want to put it to words right now, I guess it's too difficult to describe. See too many words in every language describing actions, and too few describing feelings, and things that are just felt...
Is there really a state of contentment, where you can just sit back and be satisfied? There always is something to be achieved, some level desired. Words from Babar come to mind right now, "simplify life"! Simple! You're running after too many things, you're thinking about things that you shouldn't really be thinking about. Just simplify it all. But it's not really that simple is it! At least for a bloke like me. If there's some classification between thinkers and achievers, then I'd definitely be a thinker, and not a thinker like Newton, who achieved because he thought, but a thinker like...well like someone like...me I guess. But there's so much I want to do, and I don't mean things like "I want to be CEO of my own company in 5 years", but things like living on a farm, raising cattle, working in a factory, write a book, make a small little movie on that book, sharing all this with someone, and sharing that someone's experiences too, and so much that I can't even think of right now. But it would come back to me.
Whenever I look into my mother's eyes I see so much that she wanted to do, so much that she could have done, she could really have been a wild soul, living life in the moment. But..ahh always a but! I think she made a choice somewhere along the line, she chose, and she lived up to it, and she's still doing just that at full blow. I think that's how it always is "running before time took our dreams away..."! Floyd! You can always refer to Floyd.
But I still want to hang onto my dreams, and live them every time I can sneak them into my life choices. Is that possible? Well there's only one way to find out isn't there.
Live on...keep fading, keep dissolving, keep living!
O and happy birthday Zeeshan!
Am I making sense?
When was the last time I lay down, flat out, on the ground and conjured up shapes out of scattered clouds? I swear I saw a dancing ballerina the other day in the sky, after so long, so so long! When was the last time I admired migrating birds, and marveled at how systematic, determined, and focused they were? I swear I saw a whole flock of them, darting through the skies like a speeding arrow! These days I've been doing all these things, doing all this because I'm not saying much, but thinking a lot. Does it all add up? Ever?
Last weekend I went to the movies with Yousuf and Faryal, and their lovely daughter, whose recently learned to walk (well about 2 months recently). And now when you go out with her, there's no stopping her. She does not want to be carried any more, she just wants to carry her self far far away on her own two little feet. In these last two years I've basically been watching movies every time I go to the cinemas, but this time I went to the movies, where the objective really isn't to watch the movie, but to enjoy the whole charade! Of course Mano went bonkers in the second half of the movie, and from then on, there was a movie going on, on screen, and another (much more interesting and entertaining) movie going on on the seat next to mine. You just couldn't contain the kid! Bless her! I wonder if anything can be more refreshing then the tantrums thrown by kids...I'm sure Yousuf would disagree who missed the ending of the movie because he had to go out of the cinema with the kid!
Last night I got home quite late (after an unsuccessful attempt to resurrect a system from viruses), and was totally drained. Had a hard day at work yesterday, and then the failed virus removal exercise. But instead of walking into my room and hitting the bed immediately, I just walked around, in circles literally. The same roads again and again. And it felt good, just doing the rounds of the streets of my neighborhood like a security guard, making sure that everything's in place.
So Eid's coming up, and I remember mentioning in some previous post that I was looking forward to two things, one new years, and two the Eid. At new year's I was supposed to have a blast, and at Eid I was supposed to get depressed. Well I guess I can still keep the second of the two promises! I'm just thinking what everyone would be up to right now back home! Yep, I have a full picture, and I really want to put it to words right now, I guess it's too difficult to describe. See too many words in every language describing actions, and too few describing feelings, and things that are just felt...
Is there really a state of contentment, where you can just sit back and be satisfied? There always is something to be achieved, some level desired. Words from Babar come to mind right now, "simplify life"! Simple! You're running after too many things, you're thinking about things that you shouldn't really be thinking about. Just simplify it all. But it's not really that simple is it! At least for a bloke like me. If there's some classification between thinkers and achievers, then I'd definitely be a thinker, and not a thinker like Newton, who achieved because he thought, but a thinker like...well like someone like...me I guess. But there's so much I want to do, and I don't mean things like "I want to be CEO of my own company in 5 years", but things like living on a farm, raising cattle, working in a factory, write a book, make a small little movie on that book, sharing all this with someone, and sharing that someone's experiences too, and so much that I can't even think of right now. But it would come back to me.
Whenever I look into my mother's eyes I see so much that she wanted to do, so much that she could have done, she could really have been a wild soul, living life in the moment. But..ahh always a but! I think she made a choice somewhere along the line, she chose, and she lived up to it, and she's still doing just that at full blow. I think that's how it always is "running before time took our dreams away..."! Floyd! You can always refer to Floyd.
But I still want to hang onto my dreams, and live them every time I can sneak them into my life choices. Is that possible? Well there's only one way to find out isn't there.
Live on...keep fading, keep dissolving, keep living!
O and happy birthday Zeeshan!
Tuesday, January 11, 2005
Thick Clouds
Have I ever mentioned how fascinated I am by highly eccentric (and a tad violent) weather? Strong winds, thundering clouds, dazzling sun, harrowing night chills! I can fail to understand how you can sit and enjoy a tranquil sunset on a calm beach, I mean it's great, but compare that to walking up on narrow paths made of mud, putting in all your energy to go against fierce gushes of rain trying to knock you out. How can you feel more alive then when you walk through a blizzard with eyes closed and ears feeling like houses; or walking into a raging sea, jumping up every time a big wave comes? Can anything match that feeling you get when your feet lose ground, and your insignificant existence is totally at the mercy of these giant water boulders smacking into you.
Today I walked into my office in one of the best moods in a long time by a long shot. Reason. Well nothing special happened, it was the usual night (some TV, some yabbing, and a few cigarettes), and the morning was the same as well. Except I got out of my bed a bit late and had to rush through everything to get to work on time. But on my 20 minute walk to my office, I got treated with absolutely wonderfully powerful weather! Thick clouds running overhead, constantly being replaced by newer clouds, the sun never allowed the opportunity to show its face, and the most powerful winds I've seen in a while; winds against which you have to really button up your coat all the way. Winds in which to walk you have to bend yourself to the "ruku" position in prayer.
Feeling life first-hand. Every sense of the body enhanced, all information coming in discrete packets (and that too achieved without even the slightest influence of marijuana!). I think I could have walked on forever today, well not forever, but to my demise definitely, and when I'd have left, it would have been with a happy heart. A joyous exit, what can be better then that now!
And the best thing about the walk this morning wasn’t the weather or the marvels of God. (Extremely thankful for both though). The best thing for me was that I was on the verge of jumping with joy. I could have walked up Mount Everest this morning, and would have sung Sinatra songs all the way up. Let it snow people! No matter what age you are, I guess to feel like this is always that special treat kept for the grandest occasion.
I’ve been sitting at my desk for the last 4 hours (well most of those hours, had my medical today, so…) and still I am forcing myself to keep sitting. I don’t think my professional colleagues would appreciate the sight of a balding guy, slightly on the chubby side, bouncing around the office.
O and Junaid also sent me the “MA does the Twist” video from his wedding dholkee last month. And well all I can say is that nothing compares. Man MA I am sure you give Travolta a run for his money (or definitely his sanity)! I wish I could have the video played on all stations on this little planet of our for a whole day. It’s just too damn funny.
And the sight of all the boys doing the all Punjabi Bhangra, fused with the night club additions of what I think they felt is a turn-on for the ladies. Yes Zeeshan I speak of your 2-Pac meets Shirley McLean moves! A big no! Well missed out on some amazing times. O and please someone, help Naufal find his groove!
In other news, well I’ve lost touch with the proper world for some time now. I mean I do speak to parents nearly everyday. Alina has performed a disappearing act however, but I guess that’s due to her exams (good luck for those). And the rest of the boys are just AWOL!
Done for now!
Today I walked into my office in one of the best moods in a long time by a long shot. Reason. Well nothing special happened, it was the usual night (some TV, some yabbing, and a few cigarettes), and the morning was the same as well. Except I got out of my bed a bit late and had to rush through everything to get to work on time. But on my 20 minute walk to my office, I got treated with absolutely wonderfully powerful weather! Thick clouds running overhead, constantly being replaced by newer clouds, the sun never allowed the opportunity to show its face, and the most powerful winds I've seen in a while; winds against which you have to really button up your coat all the way. Winds in which to walk you have to bend yourself to the "ruku" position in prayer.
Feeling life first-hand. Every sense of the body enhanced, all information coming in discrete packets (and that too achieved without even the slightest influence of marijuana!). I think I could have walked on forever today, well not forever, but to my demise definitely, and when I'd have left, it would have been with a happy heart. A joyous exit, what can be better then that now!
And the best thing about the walk this morning wasn’t the weather or the marvels of God. (Extremely thankful for both though). The best thing for me was that I was on the verge of jumping with joy. I could have walked up Mount Everest this morning, and would have sung Sinatra songs all the way up. Let it snow people! No matter what age you are, I guess to feel like this is always that special treat kept for the grandest occasion.
I’ve been sitting at my desk for the last 4 hours (well most of those hours, had my medical today, so…) and still I am forcing myself to keep sitting. I don’t think my professional colleagues would appreciate the sight of a balding guy, slightly on the chubby side, bouncing around the office.
O and Junaid also sent me the “MA does the Twist” video from his wedding dholkee last month. And well all I can say is that nothing compares. Man MA I am sure you give Travolta a run for his money (or definitely his sanity)! I wish I could have the video played on all stations on this little planet of our for a whole day. It’s just too damn funny.
And the sight of all the boys doing the all Punjabi Bhangra, fused with the night club additions of what I think they felt is a turn-on for the ladies. Yes Zeeshan I speak of your 2-Pac meets Shirley McLean moves! A big no! Well missed out on some amazing times. O and please someone, help Naufal find his groove!
In other news, well I’ve lost touch with the proper world for some time now. I mean I do speak to parents nearly everyday. Alina has performed a disappearing act however, but I guess that’s due to her exams (good luck for those). And the rest of the boys are just AWOL!
Done for now!
Thursday, January 06, 2005
of moments and consequences
Is it really true that a single moment in one's life can define it as a whole? That a single moment can trigger a complete doctoral degree of consequences, that in turn defines your fate? The answers to that I do not know, and well I don't think I'll ever "really" know. Reason being that life, like most things in this world is never an exact science. It is an artful representation that can be interpreted in infinite ways. So I can never be sure that my experiences reflect the experiences as a whole, and are not just some anomaly of the standard, if there is a standard, that is. And we can just go on and on with argument and counter arguments and have a session of the parliament at our hands, so much talk, so much toil, and so little to show of it!
But what I do know is that you can live on for years and not really go through any real change except for the methodical change that time induces. But eventually you are exactly the same person. And what I do know is that you can be strolling around in no specific direction, with no specific thoughts in mind, just a song or two doing rounds in the head, and WHAM! A single moment, a single sight, and you are off your feet, completely off track, shooting off in some completely new projectile trajectory. And that moment, that particular instant can have the direst consequences in your life, good or bad...
Now this moment, this epiphany, if I may call it that, does not have to be something out of the ordinary. It can just be a toddler trying to hold on to his mother's coat to keep up, an old man sitting on a bench, completely still, surrounded by rushed movements that are always out of time, out of breath. It can even be an some self-involved, ostentatious kid feeling all important in some slick designer wear. Things that you see and witness every day, and don't give a second thought to. And these things at another time stop you in your tracks, dead still. Or they can just register themselves in some hidden depth of your mind, and then pop-up out of nowhere someday, and again stop you in your tracks, dead still.
If I want I can recount many such moments in my life, that somehow had an effect on me. Things that helped me (or rather forced me) to reach particular decisions. Decisions that affected my life and the lives of those attached to me. And what follows now is a series of consequences, bundled with a few more moments. Sort of like the circle of life! Again I don't know, and I guess I really don't want to know. See for me it's like the stuff inside a girl's bathroom, stuff that you're always better off never finding out about!
At least that's my bearing on it. But no matter what the moments, no matter what the consequences, what really matters is the journey, what we call life. See I've begun to feel that you really have to live it right here, right now. Of course there's the life after death to look forward to, but we keep saying stuff like get out of your past, it cannot be changed, forget tomorrow, for it's too uncertain, and just live in today. So why not apply this theory to the comparison between life and the life after death. Why not relish and bathe in the joys of this life. And I guess if I have any new years resolutions then this would be it, to appreciate every moment, and cherish every consequence.
To love in sickness and in health, till death do us part.
Hah!
But what I do know is that you can live on for years and not really go through any real change except for the methodical change that time induces. But eventually you are exactly the same person. And what I do know is that you can be strolling around in no specific direction, with no specific thoughts in mind, just a song or two doing rounds in the head, and WHAM! A single moment, a single sight, and you are off your feet, completely off track, shooting off in some completely new projectile trajectory. And that moment, that particular instant can have the direst consequences in your life, good or bad...
Now this moment, this epiphany, if I may call it that, does not have to be something out of the ordinary. It can just be a toddler trying to hold on to his mother's coat to keep up, an old man sitting on a bench, completely still, surrounded by rushed movements that are always out of time, out of breath. It can even be an some self-involved, ostentatious kid feeling all important in some slick designer wear. Things that you see and witness every day, and don't give a second thought to. And these things at another time stop you in your tracks, dead still. Or they can just register themselves in some hidden depth of your mind, and then pop-up out of nowhere someday, and again stop you in your tracks, dead still.
If I want I can recount many such moments in my life, that somehow had an effect on me. Things that helped me (or rather forced me) to reach particular decisions. Decisions that affected my life and the lives of those attached to me. And what follows now is a series of consequences, bundled with a few more moments. Sort of like the circle of life! Again I don't know, and I guess I really don't want to know. See for me it's like the stuff inside a girl's bathroom, stuff that you're always better off never finding out about!
At least that's my bearing on it. But no matter what the moments, no matter what the consequences, what really matters is the journey, what we call life. See I've begun to feel that you really have to live it right here, right now. Of course there's the life after death to look forward to, but we keep saying stuff like get out of your past, it cannot be changed, forget tomorrow, for it's too uncertain, and just live in today. So why not apply this theory to the comparison between life and the life after death. Why not relish and bathe in the joys of this life. And I guess if I have any new years resolutions then this would be it, to appreciate every moment, and cherish every consequence.
To love in sickness and in health, till death do us part.
Hah!
Wednesday, January 05, 2005
Only then can you belong to me
These lines resonated in my head as I walked out of the cinema yesterday. Yes I had finally seen the Phantom of the Opera (the Lloyd Webber & Schumacher version). And after quite a while I left the multiplex with the movie still doing rounds in my head. The last time that happened was Eastwood's Mystic River.
Now I know that there have been a zillion versions of this classic, but I never got around to seeing even one of them. Yes I remember listening to Webber's score for the first time in, when was it, I guess somewhere around 98. And it had quite an effect on me. And I only heard one piece of music from the broadway show (the one used in the movie for the song "the phantom of the opera is here...", don't knwo what its called). And it was always powerful in a haunting way. Have been humming it every now and then ever since.
But what caught me about the movie (apart from the brilliant sets, costumes, lighting, effects, mesmerizing back drops, and seemless filmmaking) was the human emotion involved. The biggest drawback of musicals is that they seem a bit out of reach (note I do not say far fetched, I don't consider them far fetched), and it's always difficult to relate to them. I mean how many of us can see ourselves sitting in our studies and singing to our friends "why can't a woman be more like a man". And "My fair lady" was the first musical I saw, see my dad's always been a fan of both the Hepburns, and yes it was love at first site for me as wel. I've never seen the current heroines (beautiful and talented as they are) illuminate the screen like Audrey Hepburn did, and let's not even begin to compare them to the Katherine Hepburn (holy grounds for me)!
OK, getting back to the point now. Yes, what I was saying was yesterday I actually felt part of the whole charade. I actually felt that I was standing there among the hundreds of extras. I could feel the irony of the masked ball sequence inside of me, and at the climax, I could feel the cool of the Paris undergrounds. And yes, at the end, I was a bit shook up, specially the monkey and ring sequence between Christine, the phantom, and ofcourse a monkey! And it wasn't at all funny.
It is amazing when at the end of it, a movie can make you feel sorry for a murdering, possessing, raving madman, who if born with a normal face could have been the high-light of his era, the greatest catch, the biggest shot. Even though the character of the patron, Raoul, is depcited as more of a dim wit (and somehow I feel that wasn't intentional), and perhaps the only actor that you fail to notice on screen. But yes, Emmy Rossum as Christine was just divine. Oh and the pleasent surprise was that she was a link from Mystic River (in which she leaves an impact in the 3 minutes she gets on screen), the last movie that came outside the theater with me, in my head.
I guess my excitment for the movie also has to do with the fact that I haven't seen the earlier versions, and there'd be many saying that it was terrible, and the best was the "so and so" version. But it was definately a worthy experience for me at a time of not so many worthy experiences, as a matter of fact worth another show as well. The movie can be seen just for its climax, the masked ball, and the snowy rooftop sequence with Paris in the back drop.
Gone now...
Now I know that there have been a zillion versions of this classic, but I never got around to seeing even one of them. Yes I remember listening to Webber's score for the first time in, when was it, I guess somewhere around 98. And it had quite an effect on me. And I only heard one piece of music from the broadway show (the one used in the movie for the song "the phantom of the opera is here...", don't knwo what its called). And it was always powerful in a haunting way. Have been humming it every now and then ever since.
But what caught me about the movie (apart from the brilliant sets, costumes, lighting, effects, mesmerizing back drops, and seemless filmmaking) was the human emotion involved. The biggest drawback of musicals is that they seem a bit out of reach (note I do not say far fetched, I don't consider them far fetched), and it's always difficult to relate to them. I mean how many of us can see ourselves sitting in our studies and singing to our friends "why can't a woman be more like a man". And "My fair lady" was the first musical I saw, see my dad's always been a fan of both the Hepburns, and yes it was love at first site for me as wel. I've never seen the current heroines (beautiful and talented as they are) illuminate the screen like Audrey Hepburn did, and let's not even begin to compare them to the Katherine Hepburn (holy grounds for me)!
OK, getting back to the point now. Yes, what I was saying was yesterday I actually felt part of the whole charade. I actually felt that I was standing there among the hundreds of extras. I could feel the irony of the masked ball sequence inside of me, and at the climax, I could feel the cool of the Paris undergrounds. And yes, at the end, I was a bit shook up, specially the monkey and ring sequence between Christine, the phantom, and ofcourse a monkey! And it wasn't at all funny.
It is amazing when at the end of it, a movie can make you feel sorry for a murdering, possessing, raving madman, who if born with a normal face could have been the high-light of his era, the greatest catch, the biggest shot. Even though the character of the patron, Raoul, is depcited as more of a dim wit (and somehow I feel that wasn't intentional), and perhaps the only actor that you fail to notice on screen. But yes, Emmy Rossum as Christine was just divine. Oh and the pleasent surprise was that she was a link from Mystic River (in which she leaves an impact in the 3 minutes she gets on screen), the last movie that came outside the theater with me, in my head.
I guess my excitment for the movie also has to do with the fact that I haven't seen the earlier versions, and there'd be many saying that it was terrible, and the best was the "so and so" version. But it was definately a worthy experience for me at a time of not so many worthy experiences, as a matter of fact worth another show as well. The movie can be seen just for its climax, the masked ball, and the snowy rooftop sequence with Paris in the back drop.
Gone now...
Sunday, January 02, 2005
That loving feeling...
Remember the Righteous Brothers saying "you've lost that loving feeling...no it's gone...gone...gone...woooooooohhh...". Well sometimes I really feel that I've lost that loving feeling, that brings bundled with it loads of passion. Another day to describe it is saying something like "...well with the passage of time...".
Yesterday I was sitting with my new found acquaintences, and we were all discussing what can now safely be termed as our youths. Everyone (even the most withdrawn and aloof) had amazing stories to tell. Stories that somehow you don't believe, nodding your head with a smile and saying inside "yuh right!".
I mean who would believe that you would walk on a 12 inch pipe about 30 feet above an raging flow of water, tip-toe your way to the very center, sit down, and well, just smoke. Reason for that, "I liked the view of the stream from there, plus it made for a pretty good picture". I guess one wouldn't, but I always would because I was one among four who attempted this.
But believing in these stories isn't the point. I was doing the nodding and laughing inside bit myself yesterday at another's story, when this incident came to mind. This with so many like it, from round about the same time. The point is that in our youths we are these complete nut cases, not afraid to do anything, filled with a passion for life. What the Brothers would call "that lovin feeling"!
Even love then was this amazing and perfect thing, and all high school romances would last a life time. No horrid memories of the past seeping in to totally ruin the good moments of today. Life was ahead of you, and you would live forever. There would never be an existence of the Achilles' heel.
Fast forward to present day. Well you would never walk to the center of the pipe, and if you see some kids attempting that, you'd just smirk and think what's the future of this world which would be run by these doped up, delusional $%&^%&...
That loving feeling has been replaced by extreme caution and sensibility. With a consciousness about the future, and a sense of responsibility nullifying our every natural instinct.
You've lost that lovin' feeling...
Whoa, that lovin' feeling...
You've lost that lovin' feeling...
Now it's gone...gone...gone...wooooooh...
Next time then!
P.S. Tsunami death toll nears 200,000 now...
Yesterday I was sitting with my new found acquaintences, and we were all discussing what can now safely be termed as our youths. Everyone (even the most withdrawn and aloof) had amazing stories to tell. Stories that somehow you don't believe, nodding your head with a smile and saying inside "yuh right!".
I mean who would believe that you would walk on a 12 inch pipe about 30 feet above an raging flow of water, tip-toe your way to the very center, sit down, and well, just smoke. Reason for that, "I liked the view of the stream from there, plus it made for a pretty good picture". I guess one wouldn't, but I always would because I was one among four who attempted this.
But believing in these stories isn't the point. I was doing the nodding and laughing inside bit myself yesterday at another's story, when this incident came to mind. This with so many like it, from round about the same time. The point is that in our youths we are these complete nut cases, not afraid to do anything, filled with a passion for life. What the Brothers would call "that lovin feeling"!
Even love then was this amazing and perfect thing, and all high school romances would last a life time. No horrid memories of the past seeping in to totally ruin the good moments of today. Life was ahead of you, and you would live forever. There would never be an existence of the Achilles' heel.
Fast forward to present day. Well you would never walk to the center of the pipe, and if you see some kids attempting that, you'd just smirk and think what's the future of this world which would be run by these doped up, delusional $%&^%&...
That loving feeling has been replaced by extreme caution and sensibility. With a consciousness about the future, and a sense of responsibility nullifying our every natural instinct.
You've lost that lovin' feeling...
Whoa, that lovin' feeling...
You've lost that lovin' feeling...
Now it's gone...gone...gone...wooooooh...
Next time then!
P.S. Tsunami death toll nears 200,000 now...
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