Monday, 30 June 2008

got this picture from Reuters.
it says a lot doesnt it?

Sunday, 29 June 2008

My eyes fell upon a mid aged, partially bald guy while i was waiting for my dad to return from a mechanics shop. by the look of his clothes and his mannerism he was probably the owner of the shop. soon the guy did something that gave me a chuckle. he took a comb from his pocket and starting combing his 'hair'. his heavy, silky locks really needed that comb! he must have spent around 3 mins combing and re combing them until they looked the same as before. to be exact in description the guy was bald on the front with a few thin locks right in the middle and then joining the rest at the back.


i read somewhere- the only thing about baldness is that its neat :p

Thursday, 26 June 2008

toast and chivalry



the above clip is from my latest favourite movie these days Kate and Leopold(oh wow leo played by Hugh Jackman *blush*) . i thought i wont post a thing on my blog for a few days to come but then this piece tempts me to do so thus here so!

the chivalry, the gentleman nessthe toast that everyone pushes down twice( and i thought i am the only one who has to do that!)
the knight (or the duke here) 0n a horse rescuing a damsel caught in trouble

lol, its great :D
drrroooolllinggggggggg

Sunday, 22 June 2008

raving hellions

prologue: rukh, amna and hina are three friends (i.e to say its about me and my friends') conversation on a fine sunny day which was not that sunny after all and not that fine either. our chat went a bit wild as the below rant got the better of us.

location: college computer lab aka survivors' inn(air conditioned)

rukh: wat the hell is the matter with my friends who wudn't let me complain about my stupid classfellows on my blog...
mubi: because there are more important things to speculate on than just some ordinary 'intellectual' people, so why bother?
amna:''intellectual'' more like whore like ppl in our class!!!
rukh: yups amiz back in form...but still they cudve let me ask some really simple questions they were'nt gonna die right there if i asked them about some foreign ownership or cross ownership...
amna: yea...wat simple questions (sarcasm)
mubi: because they are all saddies in the making, dont you know that by now?
hina: mahrukh utho yeh tum ghar ja keh bhi ker sakti ho!
hina: mahrukh is going mad maaaaaaaaaadddd!!!
rukh: oh god i cant bear the thot of other saddies pottering around in this world making our lives hell...
mubi: as if its any better right now.
rukh: yea it is... we have only one saddie to deal with ryt now!!!
mubi: YEA but shes gona get married and you know thats even more dangerous!!! i mean u cant stop ppl from..
rukh: ...having little saddies!!!
rukh: yea u can they have invented contraceptives for that!!! i think tehy invented that esp keeping saddie and her future prospective kids in mind...
amna: YEAH !!! fernando torres scored a hatrick on sunday!
hina: UTHOOOOO (walks out)
rukh: scored in wat?
mubi: this place runs out of paper every other day and then its she in the back so its a goodbye :P
amna: if it aint paper the internet is a major pain in the backside!!!
rukh: now whos complaining??? anyways the net here is faster than mine at home ryt now!!!
hina: (from outside) yaaar bass kerooo!!!
amna: im hearing this this this and i wanna hear this (accompanied with nice hand gestures)...... THE WHORE CONVENTION address just got a mail frm me!!!
rukh: yea they are so lucky!!! now ami i wanna hear this!!! *gag*

lights fade out, curtains down, we are kicked out of the lab. hurray!

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
disclaimer: credit for the inappropriate language used in the above conversation goes to amina aka aami.

prologued added on rohma's advice

p.s: courtesy mahrukh. without her this wouldnt have been possible. i think we'll get an oscar for this (what category does this genre fit into?)

Saturday, 21 June 2008

flashback syndrome?

Flashbacks!!!! occurring to me A LOT these days. theres this whole series of times gone by that are floating around me. thats weird, seriously i never dwell on my past THAT much. i think it has something to do with my sub conscious or unconscious state of mind ( whichever fits here acc. to psychology ) that i find myself in a bizarre state of reverie and lost-less-ness.
Anyway, as i was peeling off the cucumbers for salad today ( holidays, free time, mum's attempts to teach her lil daughter something worthwhile so that she doesn't die of hunger, shes knows how pathetic i can get) PHEW ya where was i? hm ya, um alright; i remembered the day i was deceived and betrayed at a tender age and taken to the barber's to mercilessly get my head shaved!! well i was i dont know perhaps six at that time.
The tragedy fallen on my lil cute cuddly self was the attack of Pediculus humanus, those vicious tiny lice! yes i was a poor, young and vulnerable victim of countless lice in my head ( probably got them from some class fellow though i remember very accurately i used to sit with a boy, i mean usually girls get lice in their locks, no?) Since i was dangerous for my classmates, felt itchy 24/7 and kept on scratching my head wildly (so unlady like), my mum decided its time i got my head shaved. therefore i was bribed and lured and enticed into buying a lot of toys and all that.
MuahaHahahaha (sarcasm and dumbness all mixed) i was told to sit on the naai hajjam waali kursi that in itself was an attraction to me. so an innocent, sinless, mindless lil girl sat there all smiles, excited ( ya i was told i will be getting a cool haircut) looking at herself in the mirror and waving back to her parents behind her unaware of the fate awaiting. then rather mysteriously my dad comes up to me and says 'darling close your eyes or else the hair would get into your eyes'. Ahh! how thoughtful of him! Thinking dad saved the day for me, i readily closed my eyes, extremely pleased with the treatment i was about to get. oh and did i mention the barber who was about to give me that 'haircut'? well that old guy was really sweet. but he was an equal partner in crime with the rest of the gang!!
thus i sat there for a couple of minutes while my locks fell down on the messy floor. Surprise, surprise !!! open your eyes.
A whining child that i was i immediately started crying! aw what an embarrassment. but what did i care? i cried and cried and wailed and that too aloud. i was grabbed and told to keep quiet but the threshold had been reached and they were just too late. hurriedly we got out of the shop and to save me from any further embarrassment of carrying along a bald head, my considerate parents bought me a cute lil white and pink lace coloured hat! WOW. lets go back to the 18th century England era.
i soon overcame my grief and abysmal shock. i wore that hat and got busy with my ever- so- busy social life. today as i open my childhood albums i see a plethora of pictures taken by my brothers during my baldness time!! and guess what? i dont only look happy with my new hairless style, i even got the pictures taken with some unique style and poses!

thats childhood, you dont remain sad on one thing for the rest of your life. you face it and you forget it.

p.s this post should have been "head without hair"

Wednesday, 18 June 2008

stories,,incomplete, untold, unkown

A pen in my hand, a paper on my desk, thoughts spinning in my head and my eyes looking out the window. a flute is being played somewhere away. a faint trail of soothing flute sound comes my way.

i write of the days when i swam in the skies, walked on the mountains, sailed through the deserts and flew with the winds. i woke up. reverie the ultimate paradise. no flute, no song, no ranja no heer, no love...

i wander in the forests and dance in the twilight, reach for the million zillion stars but i wanted no moon, at least not a full moon. hmm sounds familiar, no? i drop my pen and slip low in my chair, my eyes still outside, on the swing floating to the breeze.

i trip, i turn, i look down. dust on my feet..bare. theres sun and moon, both light and bright. one yellow, the other gray and white. the journey i walk was the distance too short. when started, when ended seemed so surreal.. and so i drop my pen and aim the blank page towards the bin...

its the pen, the tales, the stories never told, unsaid words scribbled here and there, some hidden in the mind. the ink smudges and a drop falls from above. the thought melts into the paper texture and disappears. a secret dissolved.....smudged.

Tuesday, 17 June 2008

mask, peel, a skin beneath

the love, the hate
the journey we take
bring along, bring along!
shouts a distant voice
all your feelings
good or bad
thats how you deal
peel, peel, peel
the mask over your skin

you are earth and dust and you bleed
it hurts, it breaks and stays
the wounds, the scars, the guise
the rain, the dew, the flake
falls down and strays
you go on
with the journey
the love, the hate
the good and the bad
you take along all, all
bring along, bring along,
a distant voice sings
its your skin
dont peel, peel, peel
or else your heart would lay bare...
the picture on the left is going to be my inspiration for this post. for those who dont know, its a picture of a khussa, an ethnic flat sandal. the reason i felt writing a whole post on A 'khussa' is first its my ever lasting love for this traditional foot wear. secondly i am short on my khussa collection this season. i am never out of khussas EVER. a coincidence or perhaps my love for the comfortable yet a trendy look somehow makes me buy a pair of it every time i think of buying something for myself. so thats clear i love investing in good shoes. apart from khussas, my love for trainers is ever green ( i go for brands here :D)
i remember the first ever khussa i wore was when i was 5 (yes all my happy memories take a start from this digit!) my mum brought this petite lovely pair of shocking pink khussa for me from India. i loved its embroidery and design all spread throughout it. too bad i dont have a picture of that pair coz i never came across anything like that.
its been more than 2 weeks since i have had my holidays started. i have planned a trip to bazaar thousand times all because i have this desire to go khussa shopping. sometimes its just too hot to get out under the sun, sometimes i am in an intense state of lethargy(that i am always though) and sometimes...umm i cant come to think of another reason to hide my procrastination.... :$
the best thing about this foot wear is that you can even jog in them, err no not really though, they are comfortable. the only problem with it is that you cant wear them if you have streets all bumpy and muddy with rain water or banana skins laying all over the roads. then khussas are a big NO, especially in lahore. On the contrary, they look pretty little stuff when wore with choridars and even langas on shadis and eids or other occasions. oh how i luv them!
One other reason, though kept secret( for some weird logic of my own) is that khussa reminds me of the mughal era ( i so love to be in that time!! there i go again) all the grace, the nizakat, the motion, the manner, the elegance, the castles and evenings spent smelling roses, admiring the weather, bathing in rose water (what luxury!).
Ah! and so i make yet another plan of a quick trip to the bazar ASAP! and drool over some lovely, ethnic colourful khussa designs and try them on to see what fits my ugly little feet.

Saturday, 14 June 2008

my dad and me


There have been such lovely memories of me and my dad ( though i call him papa) that is so close to my heart and yet how easily they hide in our unconscious mind. today in particular as i turn back and look into my childhood days, some real sweet moments come to life and take me along. earliest ones go back to the time when i was around 4.
Every night my dad used to switch off the lights around the house and i used to help him. now that i think i used to add to his duty instead. every single night i used to hop onto his shoulders and took a little ride around the house as he switched off the lights and locked the doors. but then i grew old and such days became only memories.

On our drives back home my dad used to sing his favourite song "zindagi ik safar hai suhana, yahan kal kia hoa kis nay jana.." and we used to enjoy it a lot.
Our trips to bazaar were something that i didnt use to enjoy i suppose. i remember i was always in my father's arms and while we shopped he used to carry me all along. man i have been such a lazy, troublesome kid!
the funniest and amusing thing coming to my mind right now is that the title to my very first poem at 5 was "daddy's flower".
The recent thing that i cherish are the driving lessons i took with him. lol. the expression of panic on his face used to be so controlled with his hand constantly on the hand brake. he never showed it to me but tried so badly to compose himself and have a brave heart to let me drive. since then i havent drove hehehe
Today this relation has changed so much but the warmth and love remains the same. there are frequent skirmishes and arguments that are part of this father daughter relation but thats all part of growing up and learning. just like the mother daughter relation, this one is sensitive, full of emotions and a bond that lasts a life time.
his favourites and not so favourites are: he hates cheese so much so that we have ordered without cheese pizzas, prefers marinda over cokes, his favourite actor to date remains dilip kumar, loves mangoes, bounty is his favourite chocolate but we are such greedy kids we always eat it, killing cockroaches is his forte and its just a matter of grabbing it with a tissue paper! and theres so so much more.... love ya dad!

and before i end i have a confession to make. the chocolates missing from your share... ahem well i ate them ;) heck i know you know that too but still...

happy father's day from us
(nomi, gul, muji, maina, matar,mubi) :)

Friday, 13 June 2008

lost words..aah lights out


ugh!!! er!!! i m pulling out my hair. i m tossing and turning in my bed. annoyed and extremely irritated i sit, feel itchy, jump on a chair and then start rotating it. weeeeeeeeee what fun! jumping around the room and hitting myself into a bed, the piano, the bean bag. going crazy beyond my abnormal limits. i hate ...i hate ..and i hate
writer's block.
want to smash it, hit it and break the wall. a glass wall? i totally want to break it into tiny little pieces that would look like glittering stars spread wildly on the ground.
ah what relief it would give me...
all i can manage to write down or so to say bring on this white box are these dots "................................"
vacuum.
emptiness.
full stop
and so long time back, when i was confronted with a yet another horrible phase of writer's block i ended up writing the following:

Voices
Unheard
Screaming
Whispers
Closed
Eyes
Still
Movements
False
Pomises
Vacant
Spaces

Blank
Pages
Unwritten
Words
Unspoken
Truth
Howling
Babies
Soundless
Melodies
Humming
Birds
Blue
Skies
Tall
Trees
Honeybees
Shooting
Stars
Wishful
Hearts
Cul-de-sac
Broken
Utopian dream!

curtains down, a loud applause echoes, and the lights fade out...

Tuesday, 10 June 2008

Rumi

Unknown existence
undiscovered beauty
that's how you are
so far
but
one dawn
just like a sun
right from within
you will arise

Sunday, 8 June 2008

the sense of loss

sometimes life has to take unexpected sudden turns. and this coming from me is kind of shocking because in my case life is rather predictable. it had to go out of routine now? why. these days i am going through a terrible feeling of loss. the sense of loss is painful, it sends an alarm of angst through your body, a bitter taste leaves its mark on your tongue. as if you have a gum stuck to your hand. i know i am fretting but how else do i take out my deep sense of sorrow over my loss. i know the loss has been a materialistic one and i am being one shallow person right now. but i guess its not incorrigible to be that once in a while. at least i am not pretending to be alright with being mugged. yes i am materialistic, no shame.
at one moment you have it, the next moment its gone. the very next reaction. Panic, bewilderment, shock followed by a sense of hollowness and then a long persistent disappointment coupled with a tiny atom of hope lingering somewhere in the background.
now that i am over my loss (yes the above para was a recall of my pre and post shallow, materialistic tragic feelings. i certainly have overcome them. and so i m in a firm position of laughing and analyzing human behaviour through different stages of loss)


the above was something i wrote ridiculously and now that i was checking on my drafts, i came across this piece. just a glimpse of how pathetically i behave under situations of panic. silly me.
but to tell you the truth, i secretly whine over the incident. ha! how ironic

Monday, 2 June 2008

only one truth

So many truths, so many lies, a bundle of truths here and a web of lies there. all trapped, terribly caught. inescapable. there is a fabric of truths and lies all around us and we in the midst of it are struggling, untangling ourselves in futility. are we really? or are we 'happy' with our share of lies that become true with time or truths that fade out because there are so many lies to choose from.
No matter what religion we come from, or race or culture we belong to. no matter what other tags of nationality or green cards or red cards or religion we tie ourselves to; we are all searching for one truth.
There is only one truth that existed from time immemorial, that exists today and will exist in time to come. that one truth is neither objective nor relative( as i rummaged b/w the both in my previous post) it is the one we all secretly believe in unconsciously or consciously.

There are set principles, absolute things in life that start to become relative. one of them is truth. today solution to all problems lie in saying the magic sentence 'truth is relative' and there you go. However, relativity of truth means that two different, contradictory opinions can exist at the same time. also i can have two to three sets of truth for everything i see, hear or believe in and use them accordingly in different situations. what a safe weapon. who would know that truth could become our very own 'personal' weapon and we know the commonality of the word 'weapon' in our lives today. the validity of truth becomes rather unconvincing. that isnt something to fret about, in fact this way everyone can openly lie and wrap it up in a suit of truth.

Contrary to everything being said and read, the only truth we are born with remains the same for all of us. a link to our soul, a connection to our faith or the absence of it, the omnipotent above all to break our pseudo power; our being towards death. with this is the relation of power of someone transcendent, beyond our visible reach but within our spiritual sphere.



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