28 February 2009

The journey

Cutting through the river of time is a tiny vessel of existence. Our existence. As we grow up, our ship moves through thick and thin, through crest and trough, looking at hundreds of rocks that either mark our way letting us know how far we've come or stand in our way, making us think of ways around them. I wonder how many of us have stopped at these very rocks long enough to forget they're not their homes. Certainly, i've done that, i've let somethings grow on me to such a frightening extent that in the end, it was impossible to differentiate myself from them, to uproot them from my body and soul...i anchored at the wrong whirlpool, and i got stuck. I'll do that again, and again and again, against my own will, and again...till one day, accidentally, i'll either have a broken anchor, or will have an appropriate place to drop the weight. We all live to see that day, some of us have well defined goals, others just have indicators that let them know that probably they've come close to realising their goals. But some of us, wander around without aim without direction. The problem with this kind of people is that they're happy to be lost, they are oblivious to the greater causes that this long journey was meant for. They start off, party on their way, and all of a sudden, come to a halt, no land nearby, they're marooned. Depressing...there's noone around, only vultures flying over the corpses of dreams that were never dreamt! And then, lives of such people become lives no more!
Some of us, make ourselves a bubble. In that bubble we take in all the other ships boats that we want and leave out undesirable. Then, that bubble in itself becomes a small world, and slowly the outside world fades away. Untill one day, an iceberg strikes the bubble, bringing down all the ships inside it. That iceberg could've been avoided, had the ships not been blinded by their protective bubble, had not been in a fall sense of security. But now, all that remains is a broken world of triviality, a bird flies overhead, looks at it, and all it sees is a spec in one corner of a huge river.

Each river has its conquerer, except this river of time. God has created it in such a way that it can act as an antiseptic to wounds or provide a current to ride on but it cannot be overcome by humans. The reason probably is that all our goals our destinations are there along the way in the river, we've to work within the boundary to realise our dreams.

26 February 2009

Annihilation.

"From dehumanization to arms production,

for the benefit of the nation or its destruction,

power is power, the law of the land,

those living for death will die by their own hand,

life's no ordeal if you come to terms,

reject the system dictating the norms,

from dehumanization to arms production,

to hasten the nation towards its destruction,

its your choice, your choice, your choice,

peace or annihilation!"

a perfect circle

23 February 2009

Bad hair day

I love change, and i have variable hairdos every single day. For some reason i cant reincarnate any of my hairdos and eventually, everyday, they turn out different, variations of my own hair. That is a good thing and a bad one in itself. Good in a way that i dont have too many consecutive bad hair days. And bad in a way i dont have too many consecutive good hair days :(

i see so many people, some of my friends, who have such constant hairdos. It appears to me they take their hair off when they go home and stick it back on. Obviously not true, but seems really like it. Pamy, majid, butt, anas, and the list goes on, and i wonder why they dont get bored of their hairdos. Maybe its me who's weird, or maybe i forget what hairdo i had on the preceding day or something like that, short term memory loss...though i guess i use a pretty good brand of hair products, garnier is nice aint it? Not showing off, totally not...just wondering how to bring this bad hairday to an end. A little water?

14 February 2009

weird stuff

I always wonder about a lot of stupid things in my mind. Just pointless stuff that fascinates me, like when I take my glasses off I equate what I see to what a normal person would see on a computer screen with messed up pixels, or I always try to make sense out of the number plates of cars, phone numbers, id card numbers, roll numbers and every number that I come across, I try to connect stuff like that. Then sometimes, I just sit there, and try imagining time as a solid dimension and feel it passing through my very skin, gives me a creepy feeling that I sometimes like and sometimes don’t, depending upon what I had been doing in the preceeding moments. Sometimes I just lie on my bed late into the night and pray to God to give me a punctuated sleep so the night may seem longer than it does if you sleep soundly. Whenever sitting idle, I try to connect all the sounds around me, I try to imagine them as a part of one symphony played by time and space and almost everytime, I find a rhythm that keeps me occupied.
I wonder about lots of other weird stuff too, but at the end of the day it gets me absolutely nowhere. But I understood one important thing about myself from all the sessions I’ve had with myself, that the more I wonder, the more I am at ease with my own self. Its great to be around so many people, I realized the importance of friends many years ago, but its also extrewmely important to have yourself around you. To live a life where you are not emotionally dependent on any other human.
I know this is something that fundamentally seems impossible but it isn’t. we need to realize that whatever happens, people walk in and out of our lives. Some come closer to us than the others, but that is just state of mind, which is not impossible to alter. Time, as it passes, it alters the state of mind, it takes the effect of people out of it. Only when you stop being emotionally dependent on people can you break free of your little bubble. Otherwise, people, the closer they are, the stronger they bring you down if they do. But Allah has given all of us a parachute, so that when we are in freefall, we can always slow down. If we practice hard, we can even stop in mid air. That is the feeling that very few get to experience. To be able to stop in mid air, to free yourself from all forces, and that too taking advantage of your grief. That is one difficult stunt, but its not impossible. Grief and lonliness, we need to realise are just states of our fickle mind. They are nothing real, just reminders that yes you are alive. Like pain. Pain goes away as soon as you start ignoring it. Like itching, same thing. Like all other feelings that tend to bring you down. They carry with themselves a message, that you can break your fall, and you don’t need someone else to do it.
We should thank Allah that He has given us the ability to be emotionally and in all other ways dependent only on Him. In reality, we actually are, only we fail to realize. And we give so much attention to our own states of minds, that more often than not, give us false answers.
I’ve realized that humans, are all alike, they’re all like me. The only difference is that I can train myself to be always around for me, obviously with the help of Allah. But people will continue to walk in and out. I know, I’ve been downright dejected a number of times because of people, but I know that was a part of the learning process. Relationships, might continue, might end. You cannot waste yourself in hope or despair about people. There’s a lot more to tend to. This world, this universe is expanding, its growing, let’s not make our hearts smaller. Whatever happens, life goes on.

12 February 2009

Fickle feelings

Wandering around the streets of this city full of life,
the brightly lit embellished alleys of human joy,
sunshine of the most festive sun attempting to bathe me,
in its colours its hues all shades that seem high!

Yet my heart flinches at every step it flips and swirls,
fails to be one with the city of joy,
refuses to mingle with the mingle of emotions,
uneasy, awkward, fickle emotions it wont buy.

A faint yearning one of its kind,
one that looks for things beneath the skin, the cover thats so fake,
one that refuses to be one with the many,
the many who preach love yet nurture and hate.

I walk empty headed empty chested,
like a lifeless body floating on the sea of time,
yet i'm closer to this thing called life than them,
them who stopped searching and couldnot find.

Their smiles carry tears like their cupped hands,
their faces speak of joys but their hearts know its an illusion,
their eyes are pursed but mares try to penetrate,
what they mistake for satisfaction, is confusion!

I wonder how not caring can make you happy,
when something that enormous is missing from everything,
that something that turns these dreams to reality,
puts your heart at rest, true joy it brings.

Wandering around the streets of this city full of life,
i carefully look for what is missing,
but i see void all around me,
songs laborious their hearts refuse to sing.

I wonder if we can bring it back again,
i wonder if the world will ever laugh again,
the sunshine, when will it turn real?
These alleys i wonder, when will they see light once again.

09 February 2009

Early morning images!

My dad's reading the Quran. I've to interrupt him to ask for money and to say goodbye, he watches me do my hair and put on a cologne. Maybe he's thinking who am i doing all that for.

My neighbour, Uncle Abdul Raheem is standing outside his gate, in a shalwar and banyan, always doing something or the other, mostly to his small bunch of plants.

The aunty at the corner, is reversing her car out of the garage, going to drop her son hisham off to college. He cant hear properly, but i heard he's a pretty good footballer.

As i cross the gate of the TNT colony, which is adjacent to my street, i look at the Suzuki Dabba which i once had to push as it broke down early morning, and i feared getting late for the bus. In the end, i managed to catch the bus but had to catch my breath later.

At the end of the street, i've to turn right, but i take a look to the left, at that pretty girl's car standing outside her house. Sometimes there is some activity around the car, giving me a little hope of her glimpse but almost invariably, its her father cleaning the car or something. By that time, i get a little restless about my bus, because i've missed it many times due to my wandering spirit!

As i turn right, i see either salman uncle or his father cleaning their blue vespa scooter. Its always an awkward moment as i get confused between waving my hand or nodding my head or saying Salam aloud, but in the end, it never really matters. Either, they dont even look up, or even if they do, the eye contact lasts a second so its over before it starts.

Afnan's bhai's car is always being dusted outside his place. Once i asked him who does it, he said, they've hired a guy to do it,i wondered how khwar but then everyone has their means of earning attached to someone else's needs. Sometimes, just as i'm passing his house, afnan bhai steps out of his door and joins me for a short walk to our stop.

As i look to the left, there's the famous doongi ground, and it always carries a scene which i normally dont get to see anywhere else. There're people running with their dogs and surprisingly, with their lambs! Its a funny funny scene as the lambs pant to keep up with their owners and the owners pant to keep up with the dogs! respectively that is.

Finally, i see a trio walking towards me, 3 elderly uncles, always engrossed in some discussion or the other walk towards me. If they see me, we exchange greetings, but usually they're pretty busy. I only know one of these guys, the other two, i always wonder who they are.

And my bus stop is here. All the above images tag my way as i walk from my place to my bus stop which is hardly two hundred metres away. Its funny how detailed my surroundings are so early in the morning.

But one image i'm really scared of is the bus driving away and i can only watch it from a distance. This happens sometimes. Some freakin times.

07 February 2009

Sheeshay

I just came back home, was out with yasir and others. And i had the worst sheesha ever, and i'm goin sick sick sick sick...all hazy in the head...all sick in the guts...bitter sweet in the mouth...weak in the legs...Damn it...i'm sooooo dizzy..
So this sheesha gets me a little high. More than a little. I dont smoke thank God, maybe thats why i cant tolerate sheesha even. Generally it gets me all light headed but today was different it got me all heavy in the upper story and i sat in minigolf letting me head wander here and there and there and there telling stupid stories...

All that, because there's been stuff on my mind. i've been wondering if my blog has turned into a Personal Blog i mean i hardly post anything of interest to people, therefore my dwindling readership, but then again, sometimes giving an insight into your life enhances your readership, thats wat our news channels taught me.
City42, an addition to the hateful bunch of news channels reported yesterday
"meera ka challaan ho gya"
Damn it and that was a breaking news! Well, its not their idea of a joke i know, i know the channel pretty well they've been covering the stupidest stuff. So i was wondering about the entire scenario...

Cop: rukiye g
meera: yaas
cop: sheesha neechay karain
meera: window pehle hi open hai...aap btain what happened?
cop: apka challan hoga, 500 rupay ka, apkay sheeshay kaalay hain
meera (taking off her sunglasses): you mean my night sunglasses?
Cop: nae g, apki gari k sheeshe
meera: hmph, tmko pta hai may kon hun?
Cop: nae
meera: may meera hun, meera chaudhry
cop: meera chaudhry? Chaudhry kbse?
Meera: i mean i'm called meera only clear? Okay? Okay?
Cop: oh Acha, 1000 ka challan phir
meera: non sanse, may nae challan dungi
cop: madam ap parhe likhe logon ki tarah bat karain ap parhi likhi hain.
Meera: you two paisa man! May aitchison college se parhi hui hun, mje pta hai kaise tm logo k sath baat karni hai

the cop smiles within

cop: aur may kinnaird may zer-e-taleem hun
meera: tau? May ja rai hun
cop: bb, bahir a jain

meera, scared now, comes out.
Meera: daikhain bhai main ek ladies hun aise na karain janay dain
cop: but apke sheeshay kaalay hain
meera: tau?
Cop: illegal hai ye
meera: Acha daikho bhai mje nae pta tha, maine to is liay lagaya tha k mera rang na kharab ho.

The cop disregards everything and hands her the ticket. She takes it sits in the car, puts her sun glasses on. By the way its 9pm. Night it is,and she drives away. Life isn't easy for meera, being who she is. God save our film industry and our news channels.

02 February 2009

Love.

I get up everyday for my university, lazily stagger to the washroom, say my fajr prayers and dressup and leave for the bus stop. I always wonder about you, about you getting up.
Whether you put your right foot out of the bed first or the left one. What do you think of first when you get up. I wonder whether you look in your wardrobe everyday deciding what to wear? I wonder how you gulp down your breakfast tellin your mom you're getting late and set out to your university.
I have a bad habit of wondering about you. I got this habit from a person called Love. He told me that people in love are people gifted. They can put themselves in the places of people they love and be one with them. He told me to try it. At first i didn't believe, but then it happened like it was natural. Intuitions turned into assurances, and i could feel one with you. Love also said that its not that difficult to separate yourself from the person you love, but its impossible to get away from Love himself. I didn't believe at first. But then i lost you.
I still wonder about you, i'm one with you. But you dont have a face. You dont have a body. You're just a walking incarnation of Love that i sometimes wonder about. I haven't forgotten Love, he still meets me sometimes, like the white bearded magician, it points towards different forms of you, but never forces me to fall for any.
Last time around i told Love: "this is no use, why do you change your subject every moment, when you know i wont fall for it so easily, why do you want to convince me like that?"
he replied : "because this way you'll know for sure what is your destiny, and who's your face. This is my way of telling you this is not the one for you. That you need to walk and walk, run in search of your own magnum opus."

01 February 2009

An epic

Roger Federer vs Rafael Nadal, Australian Open 2009 final.

4 hours 20 minutes

five sets

Rafa wins. The King loses.

At the awards ceremony:
roger: "ah, its killing me" and breaks into tears, a legend breaks into tears.

Rafa comes up, hugs him, consoles him like a brother, a friend, and
rafa: "i'm sorry roger, i know how you feel. But you know how big a champion you are, and you're one of the greatest in the history, and you will break Pete Sampras' record"

Rafa! You've won me over, love you for being so humble, and for loving the king and respecting him.

Roger! You're the king of tennis. No matter what happens, we love you!

All hail the King of Tennis, and the Matador!


P.s. I was close to tears as well...