So another year and another travelogue to be initiated. I don't know how, but the last 3/4 years have seen me bounce around the globe with no real reason. And since it's a new year with so many new resolutions (that mostly won't be kept), it is also the right time to pack my bags and fly away.
This time it's to Raleigh, NC, and it is work related. Duration is still not clear to me, but I think it can be anything from a month to 6 months! I really do hope it's the first. Because I think a month would be enough for me to get some substantial work done and exhaustively see the surrounding areas so that I'm able to write-off another city from my checklist.
I'm sure that I've mentioned more then once that I love travelling, it's just the idea of living out of a bag that really fascinates me. Not really too many worries (apart from the meeting of the mandatory deadlines), and no real plans. And the instant ability to just walk away in no direction with no destination. Just being there in the moment.
But as the years pass me by, this urge to pack up and leave, though still there, does diminish in intensity, and I won't be totally surprised if it's gone completely in the next 5 years. But again I won't be surprised if it's rejuvinated and alive then, I guess then I'd know that the nomad in me won't die before me.
But yes, it is a wonderful feeling to be able to get these oppurtunities where everything around me changes (for the good or bad is irrelevant here), and what this does is that at the end of the day when I come back to all those I love, it's like I'm getting together with them after ages of agonizing seperation, and it's the first date all over again!
So here's to this wonderful plan called life, and to all of us living it day by day, finding ingenious methods of evolution with every passing moment.
It's like swimming off into the ocean, I mean from the beach it looks so amazing, all mixed up with the sun and sparkling with energy and a promise of ever lasting youth, and then you begin to swim away. The water around your body tugs and pulls and pushes you, giving you a complete curtain of safety...finally the limbs begin to tire and the breath starts to get irregular. You start contemplating the return to the shore. And slowly you turn back, this time not swimming with all the energy you have, but with the experience of a man who's tested the waters many times over the years. Conserving all the energy you have, making the most distance with the minimum effort. And finally, after an eternity, you reach the shore, and for a moment you just feel the sand under you feet, and the air in you lungs, still standing waist deep in the water. And suddenly the beach is the surest thing you've seen and you fall in love with it all over again. It's the love you have for your home, for where you belong too, for the beach is all that and more, it's also your portal to the unknown, a way to escape whenever things get too well defined.
So my little trips, they're just that, they're the swim off into the ocean to taste the unknown every now and then, but it's the beach I am coming back to, Allah willing!
Let me leave you here with the song I hum everytime I swim away...
Have fun!
I'm ... I'm ...
All my bags are packed, I'm ready to go
I'm standin' here outside your door
I hate to wake you up to say goodbye
But the dawn is breakin', it's early morn
The taxi's waitin', he's blowin' his horn
Already I'm so lonesome I could die
So kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you'll wait for me
Hold me like you'll never let me go
'Cause I'm leaving on a jet plane
I don't know when I'll be back again
Oh, babe, I hate to go
I'm ...
There's so many times I've let you down
So many times I've played around
I'll tell you now, they don't mean a thing
Every place I go, I think of you
Every song I sing, I sing for you
When I come back I'll wear your wedding ring
So kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you'll wait for me
Hold me like you'll never let me go
'Cause I'm leaving on a jet plane
I don't know when I'll be back again
Oh, babe, I hate to go
Now the time has come to leave you
One more time, oh, let me kiss you
And close your eyes and I'll be on my way
Dream about the days to come
When I won't have to leave alone
About the times that I won't have to say ...
Oh, kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you'll wait for me
Hold me like you'll never let me go
'Cause I'm leaving on a jet plane
I don't know when I'll be back again
Oh, babe, I hate to go
And I'm leaving on a jet plane
I don't know when I'll be back again
Oh, babe, I hate to go
But I'm leaving on a jet plane
(Ah ah ah ah)
Leaving on a jet plane
(Ah ah ah ah)
Leaving on a jet plane
(Ah ah ah ah)
Leaving on a jet plane
(Ah ah ah ah)
Leaving on a jet plane
(Ah ah ah ah)
Leaving on a jet plane
(Ah ah ah ah)
Leaving on a jet plane
(Ah ah ah ah)
Leaving on a jet plane
(Ah ah ah ah)
(Leaving) On a jet plane
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
Friday, January 13, 2006
WHOOSH...was that Eid that just passed us by?
Hmm...so Eid was a breeze. Well it just seems like yesterday when I was sitting in my cubicle, packing up, readying myself to leave my workplace for three whole days! Eid-ul-Adha break. Leaving work, the three days seemed like a while, time enough to get through the qurbaani, mingle with the family, sit with some friends, and get some alone time, where I can just lie down and indulge myself in the latest addiction (namely Scrubs) on my laptop.
Or so I thought!
Well the first day of my mini vacation started really early, Eid was the next day and I still hadn't gone out to get me a goat. So Mr. Fraz got up early, had nothing for breakfast, not even the obligatory cup of tea, and away he went. Well the whole day was spent in the goat market, from goat seller to goat seller, trying to find a nicely sized goat at a good price. Did I not say that a barely year old goat this year cost about the same as a fair sized car installment. Well come evening, and the task was accomplished. I had finally found a goat I liked and was driving home with it in the back seat of my car. Well for the inexperienced at goat buying, lemme just say that driving alone in the car with a goat freaking out in your back seat is quite the experience. But apart from a couple of goat sneezes on my neck apart, the ride was fairly smooth. I just had to pull over twice to drive some sense in my goat (to the laughing out loud pleasure of little girls in cars passing by)!
By the time I got home, I was so exhausted that the getting of goat food was left to my father, and I headed down to my bed, but sleep was never on the cards. See when you exhaust yourself beyond recovery, the human body refuses to go to sleep. So I moved around in a full blown zombie mode.
Before I knew it, it was 7 am the next day and the alarm to get up for Eid prayers had gone off. So forcing myself to the shower, and then into my newly stitched Eid clothes, I was standing in the mosque, going through the Eid prayers (and I only went into rukuh once, when I should've stayed up in qayyam). After the Eid prayers it was the obligatory hugging Eid mubaraks to all the people I could see and didn't know. Which was then followed by the butcher hunt for the qurbaani.
But as soon as the butcher arrived (who by the way was in more demand than the latest Angeline Jolie movie), all sense of time and taking it easy evaporated. I didn't even know it and the qurbaani was done, meat divisioned and about 20 members of the family over at our place. And well do I have to say it...guess not.
Again bed time came early morning, and the next day (the same day as a matter of fact) I was off to visit my inlaws. Needless to say I came back late late at night, and well before I knew it, my alarm clock was going off and it was 7 am.
Time to get up, get a shower and race off to work.
So even though I did make time for family, a brief visit to some friends in between, and for the goat, the alone time with my favorite sit-com on my notebook...well that's just a sweet sweet dream, a dream I look forward to, and a dream that perhaps is the driving force behind my going on thorugh the day!
But hey, just spoke to my program manager and I'm off to home early today, but guess what, to my aunt's place, where hopefully with all the madness I'll find time to watch some cricket and enjoy Pakistan cashing in on the good start...
Eid mubarak everyone!
Or so I thought!
Well the first day of my mini vacation started really early, Eid was the next day and I still hadn't gone out to get me a goat. So Mr. Fraz got up early, had nothing for breakfast, not even the obligatory cup of tea, and away he went. Well the whole day was spent in the goat market, from goat seller to goat seller, trying to find a nicely sized goat at a good price. Did I not say that a barely year old goat this year cost about the same as a fair sized car installment. Well come evening, and the task was accomplished. I had finally found a goat I liked and was driving home with it in the back seat of my car. Well for the inexperienced at goat buying, lemme just say that driving alone in the car with a goat freaking out in your back seat is quite the experience. But apart from a couple of goat sneezes on my neck apart, the ride was fairly smooth. I just had to pull over twice to drive some sense in my goat (to the laughing out loud pleasure of little girls in cars passing by)!
By the time I got home, I was so exhausted that the getting of goat food was left to my father, and I headed down to my bed, but sleep was never on the cards. See when you exhaust yourself beyond recovery, the human body refuses to go to sleep. So I moved around in a full blown zombie mode.
Before I knew it, it was 7 am the next day and the alarm to get up for Eid prayers had gone off. So forcing myself to the shower, and then into my newly stitched Eid clothes, I was standing in the mosque, going through the Eid prayers (and I only went into rukuh once, when I should've stayed up in qayyam). After the Eid prayers it was the obligatory hugging Eid mubaraks to all the people I could see and didn't know. Which was then followed by the butcher hunt for the qurbaani.
But as soon as the butcher arrived (who by the way was in more demand than the latest Angeline Jolie movie), all sense of time and taking it easy evaporated. I didn't even know it and the qurbaani was done, meat divisioned and about 20 members of the family over at our place. And well do I have to say it...guess not.
Again bed time came early morning, and the next day (the same day as a matter of fact) I was off to visit my inlaws. Needless to say I came back late late at night, and well before I knew it, my alarm clock was going off and it was 7 am.
Time to get up, get a shower and race off to work.
So even though I did make time for family, a brief visit to some friends in between, and for the goat, the alone time with my favorite sit-com on my notebook...well that's just a sweet sweet dream, a dream I look forward to, and a dream that perhaps is the driving force behind my going on thorugh the day!
But hey, just spoke to my program manager and I'm off to home early today, but guess what, to my aunt's place, where hopefully with all the madness I'll find time to watch some cricket and enjoy Pakistan cashing in on the good start...
Eid mubarak everyone!
Friday, January 06, 2006
Paradoxes
Would I be totally out of line if I say that my life is nothing but an intricately weaved paradox, day in and out? Really! All attempted resolutions to any and all problems I might be facing at that time eventually contradict another belief, another resolution, another solution.
Every attempt to alleviate the state of being is, well a paradox in its simplest form. In effect we just contradict our own better sense to end in a situation that might, just might, result in a quick laugh, a heightened feeling of existence.
Similarly every decision I make feels to me like a colossal contradiction to my purpose of being, or whatever the seers thought up most recently.
I mean we've built up this fluid society which induces life in phases. Childhood - where you do without thinking at the expense of some serious damage, and a thrashing from an adult here and there. Student life - where you now start out at the montessary level, and depending upon how much external factors effect you, continue to college / university or no level at all. This is followed by a more ambiguously defined phase called practical life. This is where lives in general differed between men and women in societies like ours, but now that difference is fading, like it did in the West, before disappearing altogether. Mind you, I have nothing against or for this change. It's just inevitable in my books, something that would happen sooner or later.
This phase of life is where the paradox of life goes to its maximum level, where literally every step and breath introduces you to a completely new set of contradictions in their own terms. But we tudge along, learning, delearning, falling, getting up, getting bruised and being run over every now and then. This is where we lose any and all perspective we ever possessed in the relatively pure realms of childhood and student life.
We begin to get driven by an ever consuming hunger to grow and prosper, into what, we really don't know. I mean growing into an entrepreneur is really knowing what you're going into, that's more of being in some state, rather then a state of being. We set goals for ourselves which are examined in every interview we ever give, and well, sad as it is, these goals are usually more meaningless then a rerun of Beavus and Butthead.
The next phase, Post Retirement Life is still quite unclear to me. I've seen quite a few variations in this (perhaps to add to my own confusions). I've seen sage like retirees who're there full of wisdom and truth, who smile these little smiles every time you appear in front of them in pursuit of the latest bout of madness.
And then I've seen people in this phase of life who get so mad that you can't make sense of a thing they say. Or there's the type who becomes so uncertain that they don't even know what they're uncertain about.
Now see where I started from and where I ended up...
tsk...tsk...tsk
Every attempt to alleviate the state of being is, well a paradox in its simplest form. In effect we just contradict our own better sense to end in a situation that might, just might, result in a quick laugh, a heightened feeling of existence.
Similarly every decision I make feels to me like a colossal contradiction to my purpose of being, or whatever the seers thought up most recently.
I mean we've built up this fluid society which induces life in phases. Childhood - where you do without thinking at the expense of some serious damage, and a thrashing from an adult here and there. Student life - where you now start out at the montessary level, and depending upon how much external factors effect you, continue to college / university or no level at all. This is followed by a more ambiguously defined phase called practical life. This is where lives in general differed between men and women in societies like ours, but now that difference is fading, like it did in the West, before disappearing altogether. Mind you, I have nothing against or for this change. It's just inevitable in my books, something that would happen sooner or later.
This phase of life is where the paradox of life goes to its maximum level, where literally every step and breath introduces you to a completely new set of contradictions in their own terms. But we tudge along, learning, delearning, falling, getting up, getting bruised and being run over every now and then. This is where we lose any and all perspective we ever possessed in the relatively pure realms of childhood and student life.
We begin to get driven by an ever consuming hunger to grow and prosper, into what, we really don't know. I mean growing into an entrepreneur is really knowing what you're going into, that's more of being in some state, rather then a state of being. We set goals for ourselves which are examined in every interview we ever give, and well, sad as it is, these goals are usually more meaningless then a rerun of Beavus and Butthead.
The next phase, Post Retirement Life is still quite unclear to me. I've seen quite a few variations in this (perhaps to add to my own confusions). I've seen sage like retirees who're there full of wisdom and truth, who smile these little smiles every time you appear in front of them in pursuit of the latest bout of madness.
And then I've seen people in this phase of life who get so mad that you can't make sense of a thing they say. Or there's the type who becomes so uncertain that they don't even know what they're uncertain about.
Now see where I started from and where I ended up...
tsk...tsk...tsk
Monday, December 26, 2005
To all the things I overlooked
One thing that fascinates me is how the things, moments, and people I overlook in the pursuit of my latest obsessions, come back to me and become so integral to my life. By contrast how the things, moments, and people I pursue with all my might somehow fade away into nothing. And now when I think about this specifically, I can pinpoint numerous such things, moments, and people who I can put into either one of these categories.
I've gone through high school, college, university collecting things and wasting them, remembering them and forgetting them. And now I can remember so many things that were in my life, but are no more, and I want them back so much, but to no avail. It's just a bitter pill to be swallowed. Like a soldier who loses a limb at war, comes back, regrets his loss and moves on, with whatever he's left with.
Memories on the other hand are simpler to manage, yet so much more complex. I'm sure that with proper levels of concentration I can trace back all the major and the not so major moments in my life back to when I was a toddler. There are so many moments that I've laid to rest in the farther crevices of my mind, many probably lost to eternal hibernation. And then there are memories that haunt me day in and out. That flash past my eyes unannounced, without any sort of proper or improper warning. And when I come out of these flashes, I'm out of sync with whatever I was doing, and then the desperate effort to get back online. So many memories that stayed with me are of moments that I deemed of no consequence, yet they've grown to be a part of my definition. And all those moments I thought would be the moments to cherish and fall back upon in times of trouble, are just lost or even if they're not lost, remembering them doesn't trigger any strong emotion.
It's like remembering how the dimple on a person's face was shaped, and forgetting the face alltogether. Or remembering a particular peice of inconsequential jewellery the love of your life wore on a similarly inconsequential day, and forgetting all about her. Am I actually making any sense? I really don't know.
Finally the people. The trickiest of all the overlooked classifications. So many friends I made, so many enemies, and so so many people I ignored all throughout. And so many people that I overlooked, who've somehow entered back into my life, or I, theirs, and we've gelled all over again. I'm grateful to all these people for ignoring what an asshole I'd been all the time they knew me.
I guess one of the major reasons we get along with the people we ignored a long time ago and meet after a while is that "sort of" connection we share. It's knowing that this person saw me when I was a whatever, and I knew this person. And look what the sands of time have done to us...
So above all, here's to all the people I overlooked in my stupidity, and who've re-entered my life, adding more and more value to it everyday, and also to those I overlooked and yet haven't made an entry into my life, but will definately do so when they feel the time is right, and my vision broad enough to appreciate them for the fabulous people they are...
Take care!
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!
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.
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