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.

How an Idle becomes idler.

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."

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...

Early morning music

I wrote such a long post, sitting in the train, when suddenly my cellphone ran out of battery. How does it feel? Not too bad, because it was one of the most hopeful posts i've ever written if there is a post of that sort.

Anyways i'm going to pindi and then will be going off to muree inshaAllah from there.

The earlier post which obviously noone will ever see was about change and how i love it. And how getting over things feels like. Right now it feels on top of the world, hamza's still sleeping and imran's still reading mario puzo's dark arena, infact he just finished it, and i'm listening to pink floyd's comfortably numb. Lol, what an unapt song to listen to now, but i love it, and i dont love much of pink floyd just a couple of psychedelic rock songs is what i can normally get into my brain, lol.

This post is pretty different from the last one. Its goin to be about the songs i just listened to.Ummm,starting with some indian song called aja nachle, its a dance number and i always feel like swinging to the beat, then Dancing Jodi from rab ne bna di jodi, love it too, drifting away by faithless, fall for you by second hand serenade (jeddah gave me the song and i loved it), mezarkabul's those who died alone which is a wonderful wonderful composition..., katy perry's i kissed a girl (lol), reminds me of the video haha...hum hain iss pal yahan from the movie kisna, jay z's dirt off your shoulders...passive and orestes by a perfect circle, gardish by karavan, comfortably numb by pink floyd...numb encore...and most importantly, my favourite anthem of all times, One by Metallica...i love it, i love wat lars ulrich has done in this song, he's just a great drummer...sigh, the train's slowed down again, i wonder why, lets go and check out...its kharian!

PreudoNickography--My nicknames over the years.

I've wanted to write this for a long time, though it might put my reputation on the line, but then again a blog is supposed to be pretty honest, isn't that so? Well, for some people, its quite personal, for me its funny. My nicknames. I never had a permanent nickname, one that all people would call me for a long time... But the nicknames i've had been quite funny, and these nicknames never fit me, or maybe that is what its like in my opinion only.
Anyways, i'll try to list down and explain all the nicknames i've had, i'll try to do so chronologically, and i hope i succeed in that. So here it goes:

Honey:
Blush blush..i dont know why i had this nickname, my old neighbours aunti fari, baber bhai and kanvel baji used to call me this. And i was pretty much a little kid at that time...so its understandable i remember quite little of it.


Hassu:
its obvious, pretty obvious. Hassu from hassaan. And it was given to me by maryam and maham, later sahar baji and other cousins started calling me this as well. I accepted that open heartedly.

Hussi:
damn i never knew that hassu could metamorphosize into this. Once asad, read hassu in my inbox, and tada...he and mohammad spread the word and some days later i was being called hussi! Which rhymes with a pretty objectionable word! With a pretty objectionable meaning!

Chira:
once during my O levels, i had a haircut. I came to school with my newly found spikes and i was greeted with the most irritating nickname me Chira, which is the young one me a bird. That was one nick i used to hate, and finally got rid of it.

Bhagwan:
now only 3 people call me that, and nomatter how much i tell them its not good to kid around with someone's religion, they wont stop. The history behind this is pretty complicated. Now a friend of mine once said "hassaan ki maths bohat ala hai". Now that particular friend of mine said that very thing on a number of different inappropriate occasions. So umair khan said "FRIEND X to hassaan ko bhagwan manta hai". Goldi and Leyla followed and the name stuck!

M.h.a:
well thats my self proclaimed nickname, i only realised my full name stands for this when i came to the uni. A few variations are also available.

Bachay:
zaeem baig's own variation of mha.

Armature:
amir shabbir's variation of mha.

Haks:
besides being my email address, haks became my football call for imran, and yes, abu talib calls me that. It has more to do with his being cool than considering me cool lol, abutalib that is.

Kitten:
one of my closest friends, mahru, calls me that, why? I dont know, i told that friend i'll be more happy with a tiger. I guess its coz of the moustache. Lol.

Muffin:
same as above. Though this is the lesser used one.

Guriya:
i had long hair, i wore a band playing football and i had a goal keeper called abdullah. He once said i looked like a guriya while playing, so the name stuck with him and the bajwas. I've to live with it. English translations like Baby Doll are also used.

Saana:
i call imran maana, he calls me saana.



One disadvantage me blogging from my cell phone is that i cant change the dont. So pardon me if the above was difficult to read. One advantage is that i can blog while i'm in my bus, on my way to the uni!

For Palestine.

I saw this beautiful piece of poetry in a local magazine. This is by the great Faiz. Its beautifully written and is so full of feelings. As a tribute to the struggle of palestine, and to the people of palestine, those who live in this world, and those live in the other, i post this.


"Mein jahan bhi gaya arz-e-watan,

teri tazleel k daaghon ki jalan dil may liye,

teri hurmat ke chiraaghon ki lagan dil may liye,

teri ulfat teri yaadon ki kasak sath gayee,

teray naaranj shagoofon ki mehak sath gayee,

saaray undaikhay rafeeqonn ka jilo
sath raha,

kitne hathon se hum-aghosh mera hath raha,

dur pardais ki bay-mehr guzargaahon may,

ajnabi shehr ki bay-nam-o-nishan raahon may,

jis zameen par bhi khula mere lahoo ka parcham,

lehlahata hai wahan arz-e Falasteen ka 'alam,

tere a'ada ne kiya aik Falasteen barbaad,

mere zakhmon ne kiye kitne Falasteen aabaad."

Faiz Ahmad Faiz

Exams and More Important Issues

I messed up, i messed up i messed up i messed up...i'm sooooo stupid...Damn it...i messed up my exam yet again...

Okay so this was question number two, it was balancing of reciprocating masses and blah blah...i messed it up first, cut out the whole question, did it again, happy that i'd get the whole ten marks, and when i came out, i found out that i, who was telling everyone to take angles anticlockwise had made that same basic stupid mistake...Damn it...and talk about theory, i knew none of it...so there goes my gpa...oh and btw the exam was mechanics of machines final...

Enough of the exam, i've decided that once its over its over...

To more important issues, i've to decide a new look for myself...the one i've thought of is more on the lines of Che Guevera, more appropriately my version of Che...so i've to grow my hair and beard...and i'm doing just that...an alteration is that i'm growing my moustache once again huhuhahaha...but i started to think when someone said to me "Hassaan have you dyed your hair?"...actually my hair turned dark brown from black, and then the front strands have started going lighter and lighter all thanks to football in the sun...obviously i'm not gonna do anything about it, but just as it is, it is a thing to worry about, because that adds to the white strands of hair i already have...and that gives my mom a reason to grill me for using gels and hairsprays...but all the above was just a prologue...the real issue, what look should i go for? All kinds of suggestions are welcome...

I cant believe i'm asking this question on my blog, lol, but i really am bored...

NATIONAL INTERESTS VS INTERESTS OF THE NATION

Amongst all the cries of the crusade waged by Israelis, i find time to ponder. I ponder over all of us, i look into the hearts of the muslim nation. Or the muslim nations! Nations because we let ourselves to be ruled by the changing demands of our so called fickle national interests.

NATIONAL INTERESTS they say. Keeping quiet at such an atrocity, why? For national interests. Not condemning it full heart and soul, why? NATIONAL INTERESTS.

What is a nation?

Wasn't the muslim ummah supposed to be a nation? Ask anyone and everyone would answer that yes muslim ummah is a nation. Well it so is not.

Last week, Hugo Chavez, head of venezuela's government, decided to expel the ambassador of israel from venezuela. Why? Because he said he was one with the people of palestine, supported them and as a protest he cut diplomatic ties.

Venezuela isn't a muslim nation. Its not even near palestine. They have nothing in common. Then where did their national interest go?

Actually, our leaders and our people abuse the term national interest. If we cared about national interests we'd raise a firm cry against the atrocities committed by israel. Yes our people are rising in their ranks, though not exactly united but they are. But when we look at the attitude of our governments, everything comes down like empty foam.

Pakistan, Kuwait, Saudi Arab, U.A.E, Oman, The central Asian republics, Egypt, Jordan, and so many other rich countries, sit, watch, request the WEST to put pressure on Israel. Why? Because they're too worried about their separate national interests to care about the real interests of the NATION. You question, what is this real interest? This is unity, this is morality. Our nations have been robbed of morality, of pride, of unity, its funny you call us NATIONS when actually that is an exact opposite to what the concept of NATION is. The gulf countries care about their relations with the US, so do we. National interests. Huh.

We watch when our brothers, our sisters, our sons daughters mothers fathers are butchered. We watch their blood drip slowly. Our arab countries watch it being neutralized by the dark colour of oil. Pakistan cannot say anything because obviously our rulers consider the US a close ally and thinks US is playing a part in stopping Israel. Ha, what an oxymoron.

First, we were separated into NATIONS ideologically, then our interests separated, and now our morals, our emotions. Its a crusade we need to understand. Afghanistan, Iraq, palestine, who knows what next. And we have ourselves to blame.

Geographical boundaries are not there to divide our hearts, they're there to tell the world that yes, more than 70 countries in the world form a muslim nation.

I detest our leaders. They're epitomes of ruthlessness and helplessness. But its important to remember our leaders come out from amongst us.

Bravo mr zaradari for honouring Richard Boucher and Joe Biden with Hilal-e-Quaid-e-Azam, i bet the Quaid would be proud.

Thanx for spitting in all our faces.

And to all the muslim leaders, kudos, did you even remember this ayat of the Quran?
"and hold fast altogether to the rope of Allah and donot be divided amongst yourselves"

your majesties! did you even care to read the Quran before setting out to rule us?

Darkness

These past few days have been marked with the blood of hundreds of palestinians, and with the rubble of the city of Gaza. The first day of the attack, the news channels showed heartwrenchingly gory scenes, of bodies lying in a scatter and people carrying their loved ones the nearby hospitals.
A week later, the situation has worsened, and its sickening. The world watches one country bomb another to ruins, literally to ruins. The victim's so called brothers, playing silent bystanders to the show, trying to condem the oppressor, scared of unknown consequences, or maybe just being diplomatic. Noone dares to make a move, or make a strong statement, why? Noone knows why, maybe thats how the world is now, we are so divided that we cannot even come together to save a brother. Perhaps we're all concerned about our own benefits that we wont achieve, we all know that in our heart of hearts.

I know from experience that the silence of friends is much more painful than the actions of our enemies.

Two days ago, i saw more disturbing images on tv. Images that brought my heart down like the buildings of gaza. The first clip was that of the hospitals of Gaza. They were all in mayhem, people lying everywhere, on beds, on the floor and the rest in arms of their loved ones. The reporter said there's a shortage of medicines, space and if the situation continues, power will be cut off from these hospitals. I wondered like i wonder a lot of times that what it would feel to be in the skin of the palestinian father who held his son with a deformed face, covered in blood and flesh exposed. Seriously, the feeling was that of rage.
The second clip was that of the city of Gaza, or what remained of it. They were coming down to their foundations, after tolerating tons of gunpowder and metal. The city already appeared in ruins, it seemed uninhabited and uninhabitable, there was no sign of life at all. The reporter said that there was no electricty in the entire city, and it had become the city of darkness. The images painted the dark picture.
But all this was nothing compared to the last piece of news, one that i saw in The News. A picture of half the page rested in the middle of the story and that picture said more things than a thousand words could've said. That picture was of 5 bodies wrapped in white cloths, the sizes of the bodies all different. The story was that of a family, which had to witness the deaths of five of the daughters of the house! Their ages 2 to 15 years old! I wondered which side of collateral damage were they on. I was surprised how the Israeli Terrorists had taken such an act of tyranny in their stride. But most of all i was worried about our silence! 5 beautiful children, bombed. An entire city reduced to ruins thrown into darkness.

Maybe its not Gaza or the people martyred over there that're the biggest casualties. In actuality our nation, our unity have been bombed. All of us have been thrown into darkness.

Its not the five girls who are dead, they've been martyred, hence they'll live. Its us, who have failed to live. All of us.

I just opened the creat a new post wali window and closing it back. I've so much in my mind but somehow, i really dont have what it takes to bring it out.
In other words i'm procrastinating...lol...

Grrr

Sometimes you wait for something all the time, you do what-not in anticipation, you dont get rewarded.


I texted in that radio show, took 24 rs, drove all the time roaming around the streets just waiting for my text but the stupid RJ didn't care to read my text. Grrr. i'm steaming.

Your car, and cars like yours!

I think i'm over you.
But whenever i see a car like yours, i try to look who's sitting inside. Expecting to see you.
But you're never there.
I dont even remember your car's plate number, and thats the best thing about it.
Every car that looks remotely like yours gives me a certain painful hope.
I find it unbelievable. The world is small, yet, our paths never crossed once you didn't want them to cross.
I dont know when i'll stop, when i'll think of every car that looks like yours like any other car. When the maroon color of it wont remind me of happy times.
I tell myself i'm over it. I am. Its just the smaller things.

Sometimes one likes to life in the smallest inklings of painful hope. Its good to keep your heart in practice. HOPE, DESPAIR, HOPE, DESPAIR. They say that way, the heart learns to handle despair in the long run!

Chirri Urri

Its so funny we’re living our childhood all over again. Lol. You know, those little games we used to play when we were very young, little nonsensical games, beating each other up in the football ground (beating hamza up), doing bhangra whenever we hear the beat, talking non sense all the time and what not. I believe this is because of a realization we all had a few months ago, that after two more years, everything would change. We’ll be engineers inshaAllah, and we’ll all be stepping into our professional lives. So in order to preserve what we have, we probably stepped into this mode of ours and probably got a taste of childhood alive too. Maybe we were always like this, its only that now I feel I’m going to miss all this that I’m paying special attention to it.
We played the game “Chirri Urri” today. To explain to people who do not know its played when all the players put their index fingers in the middle, and one of them shouts, “Chirri Urri, Kawwa Urra, Kutta Urra” (Sparrow Flew, Crow flew, Dog Flew). All the other players lift their fingers if the animal flies (Sparrow, Crow) and keep the fingers in their place if the animal doesn’t fly (Dog etc). simple as that. But we added a twist, we said the person who makes a mistake has to choose b/w truth and dare.

Now the centre of all such games is usually my very dear friend hamza

So here goes the story of what happened in the bus today (we normally sit at the very entrance of the bus):

Mha: “Chal imran chirri uri khelain”
Imran: “Chal hamza, truth or dare jo haar gya”
Hamza: “Nai yaar maine nai khelna” (A very wise decision)
Imran: “Yar bakwas na ker hamza, leechar na ban”
So finally after much prodding we start. Imran whispers something into my ear and the game then starts.
Imran: “Kutta urra”
We all keep our fingers still
Imran: “Gaey urri”
Fingers still there
Imran: “Chirya urri”
Hamza lifts his finger and me and imran keep it there
Mha: “Haha haar gya”
Hamza: “Kya matlab??”
Imran: “Chirya k par katay huay thay, it couldn’t fly…”
Hamza looks bewildered.
Mha: “chal ab truth ya dare??”
Hamza: “Truth”
We then ask hamza a very very embarrassing question that makes him go tomato…haha
We start again after another whisper from imran.
Imran: “Chirriya urri”
We all lift our fingers
Imran: “Tota (Parrot) Urra”
We lift them again
Imran: “gaey urri”
We keep our fingers still
Imran: “Kutta urra”
Imran and me lift our fingers while hamza, shocked, keeps it there.
Hamza: “kyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa???”
Mha: “Kutta jahaz pe tha…wo urr gya”
And then hamza is asked another MORE embarrassing question, which isn’t fit for my blog hehe….
We start again, this time, we decide to make it fair. So imran makes the first mistake.
Mha: “ohooooo” (Trying to pity imran)
Imran: “Truth”
Mha: “acha tum ghar ja k pehle kya karo gay”
Imran: “khana khaoon ga”
Hamza looks at us in anger
Hamza: “yaar ye kia sawal tha??? Mujse kaisay kaisay sawal kiay thay???”
Imran: “to tum ker laitay”
And once again hamza is left speechless.
For the last time we start, after imran’s customary whisper in my ear.
Imran: “chirri uri”
Imran: “Kawwa urra”
We notice hamza is copying our movements. His finger does what our finger does. Hmmm…intelligent, I thought. He even kept his finger down on Quail (we kept it down too) and lifted it on Deer.
Imran: “Gaey urri”
We all lift our finger up, hamza just a tad bit late
Mha: “tunay late kia hai”
Hamza: “to kia to hai na…hahaha” (laughing at his triumph)
Imran: “Acha chal ye bta, Gaey (Cow) kiu urri???”
Hamza’s caught off guard. Genius. We’re geniuses.
Hamza: “Wo jahaz pe hi??”
Mha and Imran: “naiiiiiiiiii….wo flying carpet pe thiiiiiiiiiiiii”

We give eachother a high five, and hamza prepares himself, quietly, for another embarrassing question!

Coming back to blogging

Yes i'm a procrastinator. A big one. I've been wanting to come back to my blog for a long time, but i'd always leave it off to a certain tomorrow, which obviously would never come. And these days have been so whirlwind that i never had the time for a mini catharsis of sorts. I'd wake up and the next thing i'd know, i'd be texting someone from withing my blanket. Such are the days of winters.
University has been highly unhappening. I say that because its common knowledge amongst all people who know me that university is one thing is love and look forward to. But its been different these days. For many reasons. I'm really not at ease with it these days. The fight we had over the weeks before the last two, internal troubles, lack of football and various small things have lead to it. To top it off, exams are round the corner, and i dont know zilch about refrigeration and airconditioning, engineering statistics and environmental engineering. I haven't even attended classes Damn it!
Anyways i didn't really want to complain and whine, by prior experience i've come to the realisation that every semester this happens, so whats the point in crying?

Eid was okay. Not the usual merry merry eid though i was so excited as i'd get three days to dress up! But sadly, i only dressed up the first day. The next two days were just normal days. I had three shalwar qamiz planned for the three days. First day a brownish white one, black for the second and grey for the third one. Such wishful thinking. Sorry if i sound like a girl.

Had a bbq at danish's place later last week. Was fun. Lets not talk about old stuff.

Politically, we've all been on our flash points. Sorry, politically and emotionally. Our media, most of it, has disappointed us to such an extent that i stopped watching tv. Over the last few days, we've been accepting allegations without seeking proof and our media has been stupid enough to not give the country any cover. Someone said that media is serving the indian interests, most of it atleast, but i believe its just the way our minds have been moulded, into the conspiracy theory mode. Noone knows for sure whats true and whats not.
I really believe that we should've looked for proof before actually apprehending pakistanis. Its an example of such poor diplomacy on the international level and such confusion and apologetic attitude at the local level. Not to mention, the lack of national pride and sovereignity.
But whats the point in talking about all this? There is a point. Atleast we can all show how sick are we of the current civilian dictator! Its not even worthy of being called leadership, its such a sham, such non sense.
As its obvious from the above ranting, i'm back!