All in a day's work II

I've to remove this orange sorbet nail colour from my nails. It's looking messy now. Oh! Have I told you how crazy I am about nail colours? I ♥ nail polishes. I don't wear much make-up ('cause I don't need to :p) but nail colour is a must. I like to use different colours at a single time (sometimes). Multi-coloured nails, you see. ZH. thinks it looks crazy. Never mind. ☺

This is my first weekend after I've started my interns. Now I'll too be thanking God for Fridays. Yet another reason to thank God. Alhumdolillah. I was telling Sh. the other day that an internee becomes a bhikaari most of the times. "Allah ke naam per koi kaam de do baba"!  No, really! My first day was borrrring. I had one other internee with me called Shayan, he used to be with me at Lyceum too but I didn't know him then. There was another person called Hassan as well but he was posted at the client's. Shayan passed the Core papers. I didn't. *sobs* Stupid Corporate Reporting! So, anyways. As I am awfully awful at talking with random people so I ended up being the usual- awful, that is. There was just one girl other than me and she was hired around 3 years ago. Her name's Mariam. She's nice- may be. I am not sure. J. says she's rude. But J. is a cartoon.

I didn't have any work on the first day. Just sat and gave gawky stares, lol. Second day was a bit better, got a little work to do which was a relief. E. bhai gave me GIPS report to read which constituted of 78 pages. o.O That was crazy. Instead of reading the report I opened up BBC and browsed the news. ☺Later, S2. Sir  informed me that I'll be posted at one of the client's from the next day. That made me sad. Itni mushkil se I had adjusted in here and now another new place and new people. Anyways, so I went to the client's the next day. F. is sweet. A little boring. Doesn't talk much, pretty shy I guess. S1. Sir is very nice and kind but U. sir.... Uff! He looks so irritated. He scares me. The fourth day was awful. F. didn't utter a single word to me. Actually, it's only F. with whom I can speak, you see. Because, the other two people are seniors and a lot older than me. Therefore, it went pretty boring and to top it S1. Sir gave me the client's Financial Statements to read. Ugh. Fifth day was awesome. ☺Mhm.. That's about it. My first week at work. Umm.. You know, because a girl has been hired after such a long time, there seems to be a coldness that gets eerie at times. And then, I am not very great at breaking the ice either so it's a little blah for the time being. I think it'll take a little more time until I can settle myself in with them. I am fine with no talking until and unless I have got work to do. However, when I neither have something to do and nor anyone to talk to, I feel like banging my head with the wall.

I want to complete NFS Shift. I am just not getting the time. It's half done. Every week Sam asks me "Aani have you installed it yet.." and I reply him with the same ghisa pitta answer. Ugh. I am so lazy. I need to buy a few more games. I haven't played Project IGI 2 yet. Imagine that. There are so many games I haven't checked out. I have become boring. Okay! Enough with the laziness. I will install Shift today and complete it real soon. Insha'Allah. *grins*

Uh Oh!

It's alright. *smiles*

Image

And so, it doesn't matter...

You know what 'brain dead' means, right? But do you know what 'feel dead' means? It's like being emotionally dead, you see. I have a tag amongst my Labels that says, 'Emotional Floods'. I think I should have another - 'Emotional Drought'. Ha. I don't know. I am failing to feel. I have grown pretty much numb. For some reason, this doesn't-matter-to-me attitude has undertaken me and hence, nothing no more seems to matter. I cannot decide if it is a good thing or a bad thing. The only thing that I am realizing is that it gets scary sometimes.

Nothing rings any bells anymore. Nothing strikes the heart's chords anymore. Perhaps, my chords broke down. Perhaps, it was I who broke them. Whatever it was, it doesn't matter now. It feels as if I have let off everything. It feels as if I have given in to the rushing torrent of time and now it will take me where ever it wants. During the course, I might hit some rocks. I might injure myself a little, perhaps. I can also get deposited on a river bank.  And if not, then I will ultimately be drained into the sea. But does it matter? I don't think so. *smirks*

You know I failed a course. *smiles* Yeah. Yeah. I failed and I am smiling. See, I told you nothing matters anymore. Had my result on the 23rd and I failed one out of 3 courses that I attempted. Corporate Reporting was an evil wizard, trust me. The exam went awful so I wasn't expecting anything great. Anyhow, so I failed for the first time in my life. And what was my reaction to it? Ha. I didn't feel a thing. Not a single drop of tear. Trust me. I have cried at scoring badly in exams. I remember my AS Level, I scored a B in Economics. My parents were in Islamabad that day and I cried so much over the phone. I cried so much. I remember my grade in General, I was in such denial. I was shattered. But this time, when I have not just scored low, but I actually have flunked. I am too indifferent to care. The moment I viewed my result, my reaction was as if I was looking at someone else's result. I felt as sad as I would have if someone I merely knew would have failed. It was a surprise. Not my result, my reaction.

I am hurt. But it doesn't ache. So, I guess I am fine for the time being. It feels as if I have been anesthetized. I feel nothing. This is insane. I don't like it much.

I have to go. I have these irksomely lengthy Notes to Accounts to read from our client's Annual Reports and then I also have to skim through SOX 4.0.4 and AS.5. Ugh. Oh yes. I started working from Monday. It's good. Err... okay... no.. it's just fine. You know in approx. three years or so, I am the first girl that they have hired in this dept. Sighs. I'll leave the rest to your imagination for the time being. Haven't been able to write about it. Haven't you noticed the teeny weeny length of my last few posts. I've been a little a busy and a lot tired. But I'll write about it soon insha'Allah.

P.S. Bj, I miss you yaar!

Little Z.

Happy Birthday ZB., my little monster a.k.a sister.

It's her birthday today. My little sister (is not so little anymore) *smiles* I can't say she's my favourite. S. will kill me if I do. *grins* But I love her, that I know. Despite all those times that she has ired me to the extent of insanity.

I remember when she was a kid and so was I. I defended all her mistakes and badtameezi's. I remember how I used to annoy all my cousins with my unreasonable defending. It used to anger me when anyone scolded her. I used to lose it there and then. Oh! Her silky jet black bob-cut hair and her tomato-coloured apple-like cheeks. She was sooo cute and gol matol. Ab tu puri Bil Batori ban gayi hai.  I have kind of spoiled her, you know. But khair hai...  *smiles*

Salgirah Mubarak, dear Z. 

F.Y.I

Stress testing, my love... It's called 'stress testing'.

Manuals

"So you fix your own car?"

"Cars are easy - It's people you need a manual for..."

--Sisterhood of Travelling Pants 2

Ab tu khulne lage maqtal bhare bazaar k beech...

Qatl chhupte they kabhi sang ki diwaar k beech
Ab to khulne lage maqtal bhare bazaar k beech

Apni poshaak k chhin jaane pe afsos na kar
Sar salaamat nahi rehte yahan dastaar k beech

Surkhiyaan amn ki talqeen mein masroof raheen
Harf baarood ugalte rahe akhbaar k beech

Jis ki choti pe basaaya tha qabeela main ne
Zalzale jaag parre hain usi kohsaar k beech

Kaash is khwab ko ta'beer ki mohlat na miley
Sho'le ugte nazar aaye mujhe gulzaar k beech

Dhalte sooraj ki tamaazat ne bikhar kar dekha
Sar-kasheeda mera saaya saf-e-ashjaar k beech

Rizq, malboos, makaaN, saans, marz, qarz, dawa
Munqasim ho gaya insaaN inhi afkaar k beech

Dekhe jaate na they aansu mere jis se Mohsin
Aaj hanste huey dekha usey aghyaar k beech

"Qatl chhupte they kabhi sang ki diwaar k beech
Ab to khulne lage maqtal bhare bazaar k beech..."

Out of curiosity...

How would you feel if you found out that you were a mistake?

Yes, if you were nothing but a mistake. A mistake that cannot be undone. A mistake that cannot be compensated for. A mistake that is deemed to be a life long regret. A mistake whose burden you have to carry on your feeble shoulders for the rest of eternity. A mistake, my dear.

Why, thank you. I am feeling good...!

So, guess what?

I got in at the firm I interviewed. *amazed* I just got a call from them. Haha. I find this very amusing, horribly funny, to be precise. The mess that I made up at my first interview, I was not even expecting a call for the second interview. And not only did I get called for the second, I even got selected. That is hilarious, I tell you.

You want to know how did I mess my first-ever interview up? I will tell you (even if you don't want me to). *smiles* Okay so these Big Four accounting firms tend to ask you a lot from your syllabus. They might ask you anything from anywhere in the course of your studies. So, it is not just the usual job/internship kind interview, you see. It is only scarier. There was a panel of three people, a girl and two men. The girl was pretty sweet but- what use shall I put thy sweetness to, my dear- She hardly asked me anything. It was the two guys who were so inclined to play the rapid fire round with me. One of them was okay, a little casual in manner while the other was Ugh. Don't ask. He was so serious. Serious to the extent of being rude, you see. And he was the one asking the most hardest questions. Making up the most weirdest catch-22 situations and asking me, "What will your course of action be?" Hmph. He was evil. Meri masoom shakal per bhi reham nahin araha tha. He caught my words and used them against my very own self. *frowns* And I, I was adamantly trying to prove myself dumber than dumb. Everything that came out of my mouth, was in such stark contrast with what was inside my head. And it all seemed so dumb. I couldn't really notice the (uselessly)sweet girls expression on my answers but the guy who wasn't rude, I caught him hiding his smile by resting his hand on his mouth. Probably the smile was pretty obstinate and hence, it leaked from the corners. However, you know what? These two men who were in the panel, when I saw them moving here from there while I was waiting for the interview, I thought they might be internees or something like that. *grins* But no sir, one of them was the assistant manager I heard and the other must be something of that sort as well. The entire time, I wondered internship ke liye itnay papar bailne parte hain tu yahan job ke liye konsa pahar torrwatay hongay yeh loog. Anyways, so itniiiiiiiiii dair ke baad the interview ended and they asked me 'do you want to ask anything' and I blurted out a blatant 'no'. That is not impressive, I tell you. If you want to impress them, ask them some intelligent question, I've learnt. When I blurted out the 'no', the rude guy stared at me and repeated 'no?' and then I repeated 'no!'. Haha. I am so dheeet. So, yes, I messed up the entire interview except the fact that I was very confident while successfully messing it up. Oh and yes, I was smiling. No, no! It wasn't a cordial smile. The smile was merely a result of an attempt to suppress a huge outburst of laughter. I was so very well aware of my stupidity and hence, the smile.

After I got home, I narrated my messy memoirs to all and gave them a reason to laugh. I can be entertaining too, you know. So, I told my mother to rest assured that they won't call me again. But on the contrary, a few hours after I got back home my phone rang and hello! It was them. *smiles* I was literally astonished. I couldn't stop myself from laughing then. May be, I overrated my dumbness. Perhaps, I am not that stupid as I think. I guess, I wasn't all that bad (shayad unhain meri masoom shakal per reham aa he gaya) *insert an angelic smile here*. Anyways, I got a call for the second interview and they asked me to come the next day i.e. yesterday. I was pretty nervous yesterday, we were supposed to be interviewed by the dept. head so yes, that was creepy. The people who went before me were held for sooo long. Each of them took around half an hour or so. That further frightened me. Anyways, those of us who were waiting for our turns tried to calm our nerves by talking to each other. Thanks to this girl, who also happened to be a friend's friend, everybody gelled in. If it wasn't for her, I am sure I must have been sitting silently and others would have once again comfortably assumed me to be arrogant and proud. Whatever. Blah. When I was called in, the head greeted me sooo warmly. A lively smile painted across my lips. The first sentence he uttered was, "I have seen you some where..." Yes, he said that, lol. Anyways, so it was contrary to what I had expected. It went pretty well. Most of it was a one-way talk. He seemed like a nice man. By the way the head spoke, I presumed that those of us who have been called today will get selected. And I did!

I am happy. Risk Advisory is going to be interesting, I hope. It will be better than Audit, I am certain. It is a good opportunity. No, it is an awesome opportunity. I got in at one of the Big Four firms! Yayyy!! Wait! Wow! I applied to a big four firm, had my first interview ever and I got in. Whoa! I guess I am just very lucky. Alhumdolillah.

Long post, uh? *smiles* But you insisted on knowing. Oh wait! No, I was the insistent one. Haha. General knowledge is good, bhaee. You should have some too.

I am not feeling fine now.Actually, I am feeling good. Now that is a feeling, you see. I cannot assure you how long will this feeling last. I cannot tell you how long before I start feeling fine again. But nevertheless, I will try to feel good for as long as I can. *Does that count as optimism?* *grins*

Why yes, I am feeling fine..

I am feeling a little disoriented. I need to get myself busy, I suppose. But then, I do not believe that would help much. No matter how busy I am, I almost always get time to put myself on pause and mull over things. And then there are people who don't have time. Ha. Do you want to know one kind of excuse that ticks me off? Never tell me, you 'didn't get time'. Tell me anything, and I will welcome your excuses with a smile. Just never tell me that.  So anyways, I am assuming getting busy won't work for me.

I am not sad, you see. There isn't any reason to feel sad, not really. And about feeling happy, I cannot say much. I don't know, probably I am swaying somewhere in between the two. Although, most probably I am supposed to be feeling sad. I should be found around wearing a thick blanket of despair. But, I am not. And may be, this is what that is actually irritating me. Not feeling woeful when actually I should be. I feel apathetic. Indifferent. And I am not liking it. I have always longed for indifference and now that it has come to me, I feel smothered in its tight hug. I am just irritated. I will be fine soon, Insha'Allah. I know. I will be fine. However, I have always wondered what 'fine' is? 'I am feeling fine'. How do you feel when you 'feel fine'? I don't really think 'feeling fine' is an emotion. You can either feel happy or sad or something of that sort but 'fine'- I am not sure. If some one asks me how am I feeling now. I'd say, 'Why, thank you. I am feeling fine".

I had fun last night, you know. Eeman, Amnah and the very badmaash little Hamza. Oh! I love them. They are the cutest little things. All three of them are in such contrast with each other. Total 'udham', I tell you. *smiles*

I wish I was a person who looked at the bright side of things. They call it 'optimism', yeah? Whatever that is! *dull smile*

I had the interview(s). That's another interesting story, you know. I will tell you, may be in a day or two. I don't feel like writing right now.

Good day!

Aye Mariz-e-Dana'ee...

Jaanta hon mein tum ko zauq-e-shayari bhi hai
Shakhsiyat sajanay mein ek yeh mahiri bhi hai
Phir bhi harf chuntay ho, sirf lafz suntay ho
Inn ke darmiyan kya hai, tum na jaan pa'ogay...


It's about time you started reading between the lines, my friend. It's about time.

One upon a time at sehri

Eik dafa ka zikr hai ke eik Ann thi, eik uski ami huzoor thin aur eik Shehzadi sahiba thi(uska naam waqai Shehzadi tha). Eik din Shehzadi sahiba ne Ann ko aker sehri ke liya jagana chaha magar phir usay na kaam ho ker wapis jana para. Us ne soocha mein Ann se kis tarah is shikast ka badla le sakti hon, aakhirkaar ussay eik tarkeeb zehan mein ayi. Usne soocha kion na mein Ann ke half-fried egg mein bohat sari mirchain daal dun. Us ne foran apne is khayal per amal kiya aur dil khool ker anday per laal mirchain daal diin. Ann ne jab apne half-fried egg ki yeh khoobsurat shakal dekhi tu hairaan rehgayi. Murghi ka woh mazloom andaa puri tarah se surkh horaha tha. Ann ne soocha yeh mein kaise khaonge. Phir uss ne Shehzadi se kaha ke yeh tum ne kya kardiya hai itni sari laal mirchain daal dii hain, tu Shehzadi sahiba ne masoom se shakal bana ker farmaya ke 'zyada dal gayi hain kya magar mein tu bas zara se daalti hon'. Ann ne apna sar pakar liya, phir usne uss half-fry ki cleansing ker ke usko nosh farmaya. Jis waqt Ann woh mazloom andaa nosh farma rahi thi tu Ann ka dil chaha biryani khanay ko. Ann iss tarah ke khana sehri mein normally nahi khati hai but uss din uska dil chaha tu usne S. se kaha ke 'please mere liye biryani garam kardo' (suston ki sardarni). Magar S. sahiba bhi ami ke bedroom ke bahar kharay kharay he uski baat ka jawab derahi thi lehaza ami ke kaan mein biryani ka naam pargaya. Ami ne S. se maloom kiya ke Ann sahiba kya farma rahi hain tu S. ne foran he yeh baat unke gosh-guzaar kardi. Aur phir Ann ko biryani tu naseeb na hoi bas ami ki halki phulki daant khanay ko milgayi. Ami ka kehna tha ke Ann sahiba aap pagal hoi hain jo 2 din pehle ki biryani sehri mein kha ker apni tabiyat kharab karaingi. Ann sahiba khamosh hogayi aur chup chaap murghi ke mazloom anday per iqtefah kiya. Ab koi iss zalim samaaj ko sumjhaye ke agar 2 din pehle ki biryani nahi khaye jaasakti tu woh becharay mazloom logon ka dil jalane ke liye refrigerator mein rakhi he kion hoyi hai. Hmph. Aur phir namaz se farigh hoker Ann hansi khushi sogayi. Khatam shud.

(Iss kahani ke tamam kirdar haqeeqi hain, shehzadi sahiba bhi. Yeh kahani bhi haqeeqat per mabni hai, haan bas yeh ke shehzadi sahiba ne koi badla wadla lene ke liye itni sari mirchain nahi daali thi woh tu bas unko harri harri soojh rahi hogi, ya phir shayad surkh surkh soojh rahi hogi iss liye usne aisa kardiya)

Who's 'me'?

I wonder.

If the people who know me (read family and friends) ever visit my blog, they will adamantly refuse to believe that it belongs to me. They might believe that the happy, aaj-beti, page-from-a-diary-kind posts may  have perhaps been written by me, however the rest, they will reject outrightly. This bleakness, this gloom is not a part of me, if you ask them. If you ask me, I don't really know what is or what isn't a part of me.

I am playing a lot of roles, I guess. And in amidst of all this role-playing, I have forgotten who I really am, or was. I am not doing any of this to please anyone or something like that in fact, I am not doing it at all. All of this is merely a subliminal act. Nevertheless, I wonder which one is the real me amongst all these characters.

I want to sleep now.

Good night.

Let's not title this

"You are a sad little being, you know. A sad little being. I pity you. Sometimes, I really do..."

-------------------------------
I should stop fighting with people. The sooner I do that, the better. I don't know anymore, if all this is making me stronger or otherwise.  Why cannot I be indifferent? It is not that I don't try. I do. Only I know I try, and to what extent. I should stop fighting. But before I can do that I need to find out who am I fighting against- others or myself?

-------------------------------
It's so dark.

I have become an old haunted mansion, full of cob webs, thick blankets of dust and ghosts, successfully shooing people away.

-------------------------------
I need some sort of cleansing.

Some sort of catharsis.

My Fofo

O, I love thee so very much!

Koi baat karo...

Koi khushbu jaisi baat karo...

Interview! Interview! Interview!

*panics*

I have an interview on Wednesday. Haye Allah! Can we please skip Wednesday this week and directly have Thursday instead?

This is going to be the first (well yes, the first official) interview to any firm for me. This could have been the second had the one I had before were not "so" unofficial sort. So, this is going to be the first ever. And to add the cherry to the cake, "jitni bari firm, utne baray nakhray!" Sighs. But, I don't like talking to people much. Aur woh bhi complete strangers. *sobs*

I do not want to screw this up. Let's hope I don't. You know, if they ask me "why did you choose our company and not any other?" I will tell them honestly that "sir jee, let me correct you. I didn't choose you, you chose me and I have the exact same question for you hopping up and down inside my head. Seriously, what were you thinking?" Then if they ask me, "so, Ms. A.H. what inspires you?" I think I will be honest with them again. My answer will be, "the thing, dear interviewer, is that nothing inspires me. Yes, you heard that right. I am a narcissist. Did I forget mentioning it in my resume? So yeah, I believe I am an inspiration in my ownself (for the permanent residents of the loony bin, you see!)" And if they ask me, "Will you please enlighten us about what you perceive as your strengths and weaknesses?" "Oh definitely, that's my favourite question by the way. My weaknesses are that I am a fool, yes, yes, an utter fool, I am so awfully sentimental, I am hyper-hyper-sensitive, I am terrifyingly short-tempered, I am so fastidious, unreasonable, hopelessly depressed almost always, not at all out going- I am a chooha that likes staying in its bill, an introvert, ... *goes on for about another ten minutes* and my strengths are that... that... umm... err... *goes on for about another ten minutes again* Uh, I actually cannot think of any right now, I am a little nervous, you know. *smiles sheepishly* And if they ask me... Do you still think they might ask me more questions after all this? Haha. You are funny, I tell you. Or... May be, just may be, they might actually (only if they are the permanent residents of the loony bin I mentioned above and I happen to inspire them).

Okay, enough wacko-pana. *smiles* I am just feeling a little crazy ever since after the sehri. What did I have in sehri? Just the usual. You want to know what's the usual, eh? Nope, that's a secret I will never tell. *smiles again* I just could not sleep after namaz and all. So, I was tossing and turning in my bed and successfully irritating S., my sister (eik tou I have so many Ss and Zs and As and et ceteras in my life). So, as I tossed my head from one side to another I heard my sister shout "Allahhhhhh!" "Kya hua?", I said. "Apne baal sambhalo!" And I turned my face away mumbling, "itne lambay tu nahin hai mere bechare baal (Kaash hotey)" I so want to grow my hair. I love long hairs. Z. suggests, "tie your hair into a braid and then tie a gigantic rock at the end" *shocked* Imagine that! Stop it! Stop imagining, silly. I was only kidding. Hpmh.

I don't like the idea of working a job. Then why on earth am I putting myself through all this? Because I want to make my pa jani and ami proud of myself. Sighs. Haye!... Aap ka kya hoga janab-e-aali... Aap ka... Shut up! Roza hai, stop humming!

This is such a stupid post. I am only writing this because I cannot sleep and I have nothing better in my life to do therefore, you should read this only when you cannot sleep or have nothing better in your life to do.

 Ohhh! You have already read it, haven't you? The warning was uselessly late, no. Hmm... Ab tu kuch nahi hosakta...!

Have a good morning. Oh and yes, smile! That not-so-drop-dead-gorgeous face of yours might look a tad bit better, you know. So, s-m-i-l-e!

Subha Bakhair...

And again.....

It's happening again. Damn it. It's happening all over again! But I tried so hard this time... Huh.

Dreams and Iron Giant look-alikes...

I had a weird dream while I slept after sehri. I do not usually dream while I sleep (because I do it better with open eyes). Haha. No, but seriously, it happens very less often. But whenever I do, my dreams are normally weird, so no surprises. *smiles*

I love playing tactical shooter games and hence, this was not the first time I dreamt of myself in a game-like scenario, in the middle of a combat. Yes, you can laugh at me. I will allow you that for now. So anyways, I cannot recall it clearly, it has become a little vague now. However, I remember seeing that I was in my own room looking outside the window. The world was in a chaos. I saw muddy flood water like torrent suddenly rush in from somewhere. Then there was some commotion in a ground right in front of my eyes. I saw something huge standing there. Just like the Iron Giant, only that it was not as innocent as the one in the movie. It was evil. I saw him digging out some sort of a brief case from the ground and he saw me looking at him. I was not supposed to be looking at him probably. The moment our eyes met, I realised I was in trouble. I stepped back from my window but it was no use. He used his jet-pack to fly up to me and he had a weird weapon in his hand. It was shining bright orange which made me realise that it was something horribly hot. I was scared. I cannot recall the details after that but somehow I escaped him. But the relief was momentary, I knew he'd attack me again and he did. But someone saved me. Z. saved me! *confused* Why would Z. save me? This was the most random part. Where did Z. come from? Okay whatever.

Now that I think of what I saw, it makes me laugh. The eccentricity and the sheer randomness of it makes me laugh. Although, when I opened my eyes, I was afraid. The fear that I felt in my dream was too real. I could sense it even after having woken up. That Iron Giant look-alike frightened me. Yes, it did.

My dreams/nightmares are so childish, I must admit.

Of sehri and other lovely things...

First sehri, huh? I'm lovin' it... (MacDonald's should consider signing me up for their ad. campaign- These day it's too much of "I'm lovin' it" and blah with me).

Had a hearty sehri. *smiles* Wait! No, my hearty sehri does not include spicy stuff which is normally particular to lunches and dinner but for some reason people decide to have them at sehri. How do thee do that? (That twisted my tongue, I swear) Anyways, so how? Especially the most shocking of all, the infamous, "nehari". Taubah. What? *grins* Don't give me looks. You can have it, if you want to. Meine kab mana kiya hai?!

S. drinks so much water at sehri. She is insane. I asked while she poured the third glass of water into her tank, "kya faidaa..??" Her reply was, a grin only. I cannot drink more than one glass. One glass and I'm done.

I need to stop humming songs now. *sheepish smile* I was humming to a ghazal while having my sehri. Taubah hai.

Uff... Ramazan is the one of the best-est things in the world. It is so blisssssful, ain't it?

*prays under the breath* (Allah karay roza na lagay pehle he din...)

Off to bed. *grin*

Kuch iss ada se aaj woh...

Stay blessed...

Ramazan mubarak ho sab ko... *smiles*

Listen to me, but not with thy ears...

Let's do something. Let's turn over a new leaf. Let's start a new beginning. Let's try- at least...

Look at them. Look inside their eyes. Although, their faces adorn a mask but their eyes are uncovered. Their faces, their veneers, their luring words might deceive you. But their eyes won't. They are pretty much helpless when it comes to those two wondrous mirrors that reflect what is inside and not the outside. They might paste a warm smile on their lips. They might dip their venomous words into honey before they pour it into your ears. They might stroke your wounded body gently feigning to soothe your pains while seeking the nerve that aches most, in effect. But they fail to conceal what their eyes persist on revealing. Even the eyes of a liar speak the truth, my love. Why don't you do yourself a favour? Stop lulling yourself into believing what you believe. Don't you realise how hollow your faith in them is? Trying knocking it and all you will ever hear is echoes that scream emptiness. Untie the blindfold of hopes that you wear. Untie it, my dear. And you will realise the gravity of the matter. Don't trust my words for they may seem too bitter for your tase but trust your eyes at least. Stop shunning the reality away. Realise how grave your mistake is. They are magicians, my love. They are playing tricks on you. It is but an illusion and nothing more. You are being fooled. Look into their eyes and tell me. Tell me honestly. Do you not see the contemptuous pity? Do you not see the scorn in those eyes. The twinkle that you take for affection is anything but that. It is a sneer. It is a smirk. The treacly words that you hear are but a poisonous potion for you. It is binding your ears into a spell so that you may hear what they want you to hear. So that when you turn around they can laugh at you like madmen while all you will hear in background will be seldom sobs of sympathy. They don't commiserate with you, my love. They pity you. They  mock you. Stop running towards them. It's about time you started running in the opposite direction. Stop ending up at their doorsteps in search for a salve for your wounds. But they tend to your wounds with such compassion, you say? Compassion? They tend to your wounds with poison! Compassion, you say! You are dying. Let me help you at least. Let me tend to your wounds. Let me heal you. Let me comfort you. Let me save you. There still might be some time. I might just find the right antidote for you. Let me try at least. Let me save you. You are dying. My precious, you are dying.

Rain is...

Well, it depends...

*smiles*

Yes, it depends.

I had an awesome day today, Alhumdolillah. We went to BJ's today. (Oh! Notice that it is BJ and not Bj. There is a difference... of 7 years between the two *grins*) It rained cats and dogs. I just mentioned in a recent post that rain makes me feel like a kid again and so it did today. I felt like having shed 10 years off my age. I got wet in the rain. It got so so cold. My ears started aching because of the cool wind. Ah! It was wonderful (the mausam, of course, not the pain). I rode a bicycle after so many years. Um... I was a little scared because I had  sort of forgotten how to ride a bicycle but hey! I did not fall. Great, no? Sam has become so badmaash. He made fun of me. He exclaimed, "Aani, agar aap gadha gari wale se bhi race lagayn na tu woh jeet jayega..!!" *insert a sheepish smile here* We played foosball. BJ and ami think we play foosball like junglees. I tried convincing them that "aisa he khailte hain" but they refused to agree. We had raspberry and orange ice lolly. And.... I will be twenty-one this November. Haha.

I'm loving it. Thank you Allah saa'in.

Realisation

Self-righteousness was not at all a bad concept- only until... *smiles* Never mind.

Your pain is...

Your pain is the breaking of the shell
that encloses your understanding.

Even as the stone of the fruit must break,that its
heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain.

And could you keep your heart in wonder
at the daily miracles of your life, your pain
would not seem less wondrous than your joy;

And you would accept the seasons of your
heart, even as you have always accepted
the seasons that pass over your fields.

And you would watch with serenity
through the winters of your grief.

Much of your pain is self-chosen.

It is the bitter potion by which the
physician within you heals your sick self.

Therefore trust the physician, and drink
his remedy in silence and tranquillity:

For his hand, though heavy and hard, is guided
by the tender hand of the Unseen,
And the cup he brings, though it burn your lips,
has been fashioned of the clay which the Potter
has moistened with His own sacred tears.

--Khalil Gibran 

The Awakening

That is such a melodramatic title. *smiles*

However, I am only referring to the awakening of the artist in me, whom I had lulled into slumber unknowingly. Although the term artist is a little too fancy for me. I just like drawing things and I can fend a few brush strokes here and there for myself. I am not a pro although I would have loved to have been that. Sigh. Wrong choices mess up your entire life. Sigh. *here starts my whining again* *smiles* I don't miss even the slightest chance that allows me to whimper. Nashukri bandi. Ch! Ch! Anyways so I dusted the neglected little artist and tried to come up with something with my yawning rusty joints. I wanted to make an oil painting but then I found out that I was out of linseed oil so I sufficed with a pencil sketch.

This is what I sketched today while it was raining. Uff the rain! It was so beautiful. Sigh. I lied when I said I don't like rain anymore. It was a blatant lie. Rain makes me feel like a kid again. I love rain and it loves me too. *winks*

Dear Bj

I miss you Bj. You pa'ghal! I miss you so much. Come back. Speaking on the stupid phone is not enough. I want to see you Bj. It has been so long. I miss those fights that we used to have. I miss beating you up. I miss running after you. I miss screaming at you, banging your doors. I miss how angry you used to make me. Remember... the last time you came, and you annoyed me and I was not talking to you and crying. You came to me to cheer me up. It took you so long to make me smile. I am crying again Bj, this time because I miss you. Don't you miss me? You idiot. Come back. Hey when you got married, we had so much fun remember. Your wife's stupid. I am sorry but she is. I was watching the old albums. And now I am weeping. All because of you! Pa'ghal! Sighs.

I miss you.

Love,

Your maasi.

Baraf paani

Well, technically speaking, I do not have much to write about. Nevertheless, I am here out of boredom. However, my mind is not empty of thoughts. Oh yes, I have hundreds of thoughts playing baraf paani inside my head. I miss playing these games baraf paani, kho-kho, chupan chupai.... *smiles* I am thinking...

******************************************
Human beings are the most bizarre of all living species. You can never- N-E-V-E-R, know everything about them. Not even if you have grown up in front of them or they have in front of you. There will always be surprises, some pleasant while some not so pleasant at all. There can be little things, their opinions, their wishes, their thoughts, et cetera.

When Z. spoke about eemandari in a nearly slighting manner, I was disappointed. According to Z., honest people live a tension filled life. That is so not true. There is also a thing called self-satisfaction and what 21 years of my little life have revealed upon me is the fact that contentment is far more long lasting than happiness. And anyways, is this world the only thing that matters? How subtly have we become so materialistic. I know Z. is an honest person despite these thoughts but, it was sad.

*******************************************
I like commenting. But I write such loooong comments. Kahaniyan likhti hon puri. *smiles*

*******************************************
Can two narcissists exist together in a symbiotic manner?

*******************************************
Can people really spend their entire lives compromising the entire time? And while doing that, can they be happy? Can compromises and happiness co-exist? *smiles*

*******************************************
People are so stupid. They forward any and every idiotic message they receive without even thinking for a second over it. Should they be some utterly lame chain messages with ridiculous warnings or some disgusting political propagandas. I just received one against pathans. Hellow! They are the ones who are being killed. What the hell! Who ate your brains? Stupid people!

*******************************************
You know what Compassion Fatigue is? It is what you and I are suffering from. It is what all of us have been plagued with.

*******************************************
I don't have many close friends, I have to confess. Yes, there are quite a few people whom I laugh and giggle with but close friends... that I only have four. *smiles* But I do get a little cynical about the sincerity of this friendship at times. I often am forced to believe that the flow of sincerity is one-sided. Ami jani used to say to me: "Doston ko kabhi azma'ish mein nahin dalna chahye... Doston ko azmana nahi chahye..." She is right. But despite everything, I love them. Yes, I have not been very lucky with the type of friends I have but I love them. End of story.

********************************************
I have lost my appetite. Not that I had a very good one before having lost it now. LOL. However, I do not like anything. Something must be wrong with my taste buds. My mother has to run after me to make me eat (figuratively speaking, of course). I eat as slow as a turtle. I do not like very hot food. I sense no taste when I eat hot food. I like it mildly warm. I just eat because I have to. And there are people who live to eat. I act a little ungrateful at times which is a bad thing. At times, when I am busy throwing my tantrums regarding food this thought strikes me hard and I immediately thank Allah for everything and apologize to Him for being so ungrateful.

*********************************************
I am missing a lot of people. Some have ceased to exist any longer while others... Others have ceased being the way they used to be. Good ol' times. I miss them.

*********************************************
And I started the post by saying that I do not have much to write about. Yeah, right.

Mere humdum, mere dost...

I was all pepped up to come up with a "happy" post but I am afraid it doesn't seem likely anymore. Oh and by the way, I shall tell you something. It is a lot easier to write up a somber, gloomy, bitter or a stingy post. It is very hard to come up with a post that is happy and a fair piece of writing simultaneously- at least for me it is. Even when I am not sad I can write fair expressions that howl melancholy. The reason being that for some reason sadness appeals me. I find it attractive- beautiful, in fact. This does not mean in any way at all that I like being sad. No, I merely said that for some inexplicable reason I feel drawn towards sad things. Where as happiness, is sort of elusive and a little eccentric as well. *smiles*

Anyways, this is a nazm by Faiz Ahmed Faiz that I first read when I was pretty young and even though I could hardly understand it, I fell in love with it.

Gar mujhey is ka Yaqee'n ho, mere Humdum, mere Dost

Gar mujhey is ka Yaqee'n ho keh tere Dil ki thakan

Teri Aankho'n ki udaasi, Tere seene ki Jalan

Meri Dil'joi...... mere pyar se mit jaye gi

Gar mera Harf-e-Tassalli woh Dawa ho jis se

Jee uthey phir tera Ujra howa Baynoor Dima'gh

Teri Peshani se Dhul jain yeh Tazleel ke Daa'gh

Teri Beemar Jawani ko shifa ho jaye

Gar mujhey is ka Yaqee'n ho, mery Humdam mery Dost...!

Roz-o-shab, sham-o-sehar main tujhey Behlata Rahoo'n

Main tujhey Geet sunata Rahoo'n... halkey... shiree'n

Aabsharo'n ke... Baharoo'n ke... Chaman zaro'n ke Geet

Aamd-e-subh ke... mehtaab ke... sayyaro'n ke Geet

Tujh se main husn-o-muhabbat ki Hiqayaat kahooN

Kaisey maghroor haseenao'n key Barfaab se Jism

Garm hatho'n ki Hararat se Pighal jatey hen

Kaisey ik chehrey key thehrey hoye manoos Naqoosh ,

Dekhtey Dekhtey yaklakht Badal jatey hain

Kis tarah Aarz-e-mehboob ka shaffaf Belou'r

Yak-ba-Yak Bada-e-Ahmar se Dehhak jatay hain

Kaisey Gulchee'n key liye jhukti hai khud Shakh-e-Gulab

Kis tarah Raat ka Ewaan mehak jata hai

Yuunhi Gata raho'n, Gaata raho'n teri khatir

Geet Bunta raho'n, Betha raho'n teri khatir

Per mere Geet, Tere Dukh ka mudawa hee nahi

Naghma Jarrah nahi, Moonis-o-Ghamkhaar sahi

Geet Nashtar to nahi, Marham-e-Aazaar sahi

Tery Aazaar ka Chara nahi, nashtar key Siwa

Aur yeh Saffak maseeha mery Qabzey me nahi

Is Jaha'n key kisi Zeeruuh key Qabzey me nahi

Haan magar...

Tery Siwa, Tery Siwa, Tery Siwa...!!

You are such a cry baby!

A single day at work was adequate for me to realise that I cannot take this. I just don't have it in me. Nope! I don't!

I cannot work! I was looking for an internship and applying here and then there and then everywhere. Haye! The market is so saturated, just getting an internship has become a tough nut. How would it be like to find a job- Don't even want to think about it. Uh. Tsk. Tsk. Let me tell you something- I just realised that the entire country is being run on a "source". God! You need a source for everything. What the hell happened to the "chiriya" named merit? Anyways, so I got into an audit firm. Sigh. Don't even ask how the experience was. I walked in to the office in the morning and left in the evening deciding in my heart never to return here again. Audit Firms are SO boring! B-o-r-i-n-g! The people who work their are not people. A day's trip to a firm scraped off my hardened bruises and made me repeat the same old sentences for a zillionth time. "Mein yeh sab kion kar rahi hon. Why am I studying this. It is not meant for me. Kis manhos ghari mein I chose this field. Et cetera." What makes me sad is the fact that this is going to be a life long regret. And you know, what makes it even sorer? What augments the soreness is the fact that even though I hate what I am doing but I have to pretend otherwise in front of others (except for a handful of people). This one time only, I am finding it very hard to accept that I have messed up- messed up the most important decision of my life. Ch!

Anyways, I have also realised that I am not tough enough. I am not job material. I cannot work, as I have already mentioned. I cannot. My office was near I. I. Chundrigar Road and the area was terribly crowded with vehicles, people and buildings. I am not used to these hustling bustling crowds. I did not even have friends. I am not used to being alone. While I was in the office, I felt like crying. My eyes did become teary a couple of times for absolutely nil reason. Can you believe that? I felt homesick. Stop rolling your eyes. *frowns* I said I am not that type. Even I did not know I was such a chiriya-hearted person. I have made a shocking discovery! I, A. H., am a wild, crazy, outspoken, whimsy, carefree, etc person only and only inside my comfort zone. My comfort zone refers to my home, my entire family, a few close friends. My world's pretty small, huh?  So, yes, the moment I step out of this zone POOF! You will not find a person graver than me. Chiragh le ker dhondne se bhi nahin milega! *smiles*

My first day was terrifyingly eventful. It was Monday. While me and BJ were on our way back home, we were stuck in an awful traffic jam and then we found out that riots had broken out because an MPA was shot. We got home so late ami jani and everybody were worried sick. But thanks God we did. Around 32 people were killed. I cannot narrate how tense I felt. For some idiotic reason all the streets lights also were switched off and the roads were spookily dark and empty. Sigh. Where is this country going? What happens to the innocent blood that has been shed? Where we do go from here? Floods, Storms, Lightning, Plane crashe, Target killings... What's next?

(Allah saa'in please forgive all of us for we have erred and erred again.)

Hide and seek

I see you are wearing a cloak. Hiding something, are we? What could that be now? What could that be? C'mon now, my dear, tell me. You can tell me anything, you know right? I can keep your secrets- cross my heart. Haven't I kept all your sad little secrets uptil now? Haven't I? Tell me now. Or better wait- Let's play a game. A guessing game.

Hmm... So, a cloak made out of ice with a concrete lining, woven with fine threads of indifference, rudeness and detestation. That is indeed an odd choice for a cloak, my dear. Let me think now. Let me think. You are using this cloak as a disguise, aren't you? A disguise against the world. You don't want them to see who you really are or what you are made of. I know you are scared. But wearing a disguise- how can that help you? Listen to me. I know you are afraid. Afraid of being seen naked- without your cloak. But this is not you. Look at me. Your eyes. In them, used to reside those beautiful portraits of love and tenderness. And now, there sits a bird of pretentious aloofness stretching it wings and the seldom flutters notifying its presence every now and then. I also see anger sitting in the corners watering the Poison Trees it once planted- they have grown so quickly. I see skepticism, sarcasm, disbelief, abomination and repulsion. I also see a dim flame of fear flickering in the background. This is not you. This cloak you wear has buried you somewhere deep inside. I know you are somewhere down there. You are afraid of getting hurt? Does all this protect you from the wounds that you fear. No! No, it does not. The blows continue to bruise you. Your wounds continue to bleed. So why use a disguise that is of no use at all? Why? This is not an armour, my love, that you wear. It is merely a camouflage. It might be made of ice or of concrete but somehow the spears permeate through it. This does not save you from the agony that frightens you. However, there is one thing. This mask that you wear hides your wounds. It hides the scars. It succeeds in portraying a false impression of your strength. It succeeds in fabricating your vulnerability into indifference. It succeeds in hiding your tears. If that is what you want- a camouflage. But why pretend? Why not expose your wounds, your bruises to those who inflicted them upon you. There is nothing to be ashamed of. Let them know of their ruthlessness. Let them know- for it is they and they only, who hold the antidote for your poisonous wounds. Only the hands that stabbed you can heal you, my love. 

And that, my dear, is the tragedy of your life.

My head aches!

This "world" with all its entirety is plunging into utter chaos.

Chaos, I tell you.

Blissfully ignorant, are we?

Please save me and those I love, please dear God! *whispers under the breath*

Mohabbat Mar Nahin Sakti

"KION?"

Yes, that is exactly my question. Aray bhaee! Kion nahin mar sakti? Matlab mujhey koi iss baat ki mantaq sumjhaye. Iss duniya mein har cheez ko fana hai tu Mohabbat mein kya anokha hai? Mohabbat kion ker lafaani hai? Mohabbat kis khushi mein mout se mustasna hai?

Mohabbat mar sakti hai! Han! (Oh and mind you!) Mera ishara eik begharz kisam ki mohabbat ki taraf hai. Han, tu baat ye hai ke mohabbat mar sakti hai kion ke koi bhi cheez humesha baqi nahi rehti siwaye Uss ke jo har cheez ka Khaaliq hai. Ab dekhiye na, mohabbat bhi Rab ki khilqat hai. Khuda ne takhleeq kiya mohabbat ko aur bohat sarii cheezon ki tarah matlab- Mohabbat bhi makhlooq/khilqat hai! Ab jab ke insaan jo ke "ashraf-ul-makhloqaat", yani tamam makhloq se afzal, jab usay he mout se koi istasna hasil nahi tu phir yeh mohabbat kya cheez hai janab?

Hosakta hai aap ko ikhtilaf ho meri ra'ye se balke ain mumkin hai ke aapko aitraaz ho. Kijye! Bilkul kijiye, shoq se kijiye- aapko haq hasil hai. Magar mein is mein aapki koi madad nahi karsakti jab tak ke aap mujhey koi mazboot aur wazni kisam ki koi mantaq nahi paish karte.

Yeh mera "aarzi" falsafa hai. Aap apni kahiye? Mein sarapa sama'at hon. Ab aap ko aitraaz hoga ke yeh "aarzi" falsafey se meri kya murad! Tu janab, iss baat se murad yeh hai ke... Iss saray falsafey mein eik loophole hai- ab woh loophole kya hai yeh mein, bohat ma'zarat ke saath, aapko nahi bataongi. Aap ko Allah ne dimagh zahir hai istemal karne ke liye he diya hai lehaza istemal kijiye. Khair, tu iss loophole ki waja se  bilkul abhi abhi eik aur khayal mere zehan mein aya hai aur woh yeh hai ke...

Mohabbat is one of the types of energy.

And don't all of us know what the mash'hor-e-zamana law about energy is.Yes. "Energy cannot be created or destroyed, it can only be changed from one form to another."

You know what am I thinking now? Exactly. What does it become when mohabbat changes form?

Hmm... *shrugs*

P.S. This post is a product of sheer randomness. Please bear with me. *grins*

It makes me bleed

Watching you cripple like this. Watching you burn like this. Watching you drown like this. Watching you crumble like this. When I see the streaks of blood dripping down your face. When I see them stabbing you and ripping you into pieces. When I see you sewing your wounds again. When I see them tearing your freshly sewn wounds again. When I see you falling apart.

When I see myself looking at you. When I look around with hopeless hopes. When I find myself helpless- To heal you, to mend you, to wipe away those bloody tears, to extinguish the fire that burns you, to protect you- When I find myself powerless. When I discover that a paralysis has taken over me. When I discover that it will not let go off me.

When I see you crying out in agonizing pain. When I see myself staring at you with a misty vision. When I see you look at me with pleading eyes. When I see myself unable to alleviate your pain, your sorrows. When I see the plea in your eyes evolving into rage and despise. When I see myself turning my gaze away from you. And while I am turning my gaze away, I catch a glimpse of a smirk running across your lips. When I see my lips pursing against each other. When I see myself shutting my eyes tightly. When I turn my back towards you. When I feel your stare burning my back with abomination.

It makes me implode into a thousand little pieces- with helplessness, with pain, with sorrow, with shame.

Each splinter piercing deeper and deeper through my flesh, through my soul.

Until it makes me bleed.

(May Allah forgive those who died in the crash and may He provide those who mourn them with sabr-e-jameel. May their souls rest in peace- Ameen)

15th Sha'baan

Kabhi aye haqeeqat-e-muntazr nazar aa libas-e-majaz mein
Ke hazaron sajde tarap rahe hain meri jabeen-e-niyaz mein...

Wiladat-e-Qaim-e-Aal-e-Mohammad(SAWW), Imam Mehdi Akhir uz Zamaan(AS) mubarak..

What is in a name...?

Phoolan Devi?

F-16?

RPG?

Who me?

Hahaha.

Hum gard-e-safar, hum naqsh-e-kadam...

"Sometimes you run away only to see who is running after you..."

So you too, my dear, ran away. But no one followed. Nobody ran after you to stop you. But you kept running, hoping against hopes. You kept running because you were afraid to stop by and look back- only to find the dusty trail left by your own sorry self. You kept running until your knees refused to move you any further. You kept running until your lungs refused to spare you even a quarter of  a breath. You kept running until your heart could not beat any harder. You kept running until there was not a single bit of oxygen left in your body to spare. And then- you stopped. Your knees protested against your weight, gave up and you fell to the ground. You felt a line of a searing liquid trickling down your face and vanishing into the dusty ground. Someone spoke inside in a whisper, wanting to take a chance, wanting to look back only to find someone behind you. You scolded the meek voice that rose its head and the whisper scurried away. There was silence now. A deathly silence , that prevailed. All of a sudden, the same whisper rose again. And then another and another until there was a deafening cacophony of whispers. You covered your ears to shut out the dissonance only to find out that the noise came from not outside but from within your own self. You screamed with all that was left of you in an attempt to crush the noise inside. And you failed. Your scream sounded nothing but like a feeble mumble that was never meant to be heard. You felt the damp warmth on your face again and soon the dust on your face had been washed away by your tears. You did not want to look back because you knew. You knew that looking back would turn you into stone- just as in those Alif Laila Tales you once heard. However, you did not have any other option, did you? You had to look back. You body refused to carry you any further. The screaming whispers had now turned into sharp shrills that pierced your soul and the only way to stop them was to look back. So, you looked back. To your surprise, you did not turn into a stone. You focused your gaze to the view that long awaited you. Your tears had blurred your sight so you wiped your eyes with the back of your hand and tried to focus again. And you saw.

What did you see, my precious? What did you see?

*************************************

Hum Gard-E-Safar Hum Naqsh-E-Kadam 

Hum Soz-E-Talab Hum Tarz-E-Fugaa'n 

Hum Ranj-E-Chaman Hum Fasl-E-Khizaa'n 

Hum Hairat-O-Hasrat Yaas-O-Alam 

Hum Dasht-E-Junuun K Soda'ee 

Ye Dasht-E-Junuun Ye Pagalpan 

Ye Pecha Kerti Ruswa'e 

Ye Ranj-O-Alam Ye Huzn-O-Malaal 

Ye Nala-E-Shab Ye Soz-E-Kamaal 

Dil Mein Kahin Benaam Chuban 

Aur Hadd-E-Nazar Tak Tanha'i 

Hum Dasht-E-Junuun K Soda'ee 

Ab Jaan Humari Chotay Bhi 

Ya Dasht-E-Junuun Hi Thak Jaye 

Jo Roh-O-Badan Ka Rishta Tha 

Ka'ee Saal Hoye Wo Toot Gaya 

Ab Dil Ka Dharakna Ruk Jaye 

Ab Saans Ki Dori Tootay Bhi 

Hum Dasht-E-Junuun K Soda'ee

Metamorphosis

And the smile grew deeper and deeper until it became a sneer. And then the sneer nestled on those lips permanently- as permanent as the pale scarlet hues of those lips.

My halwa and me

I made halwa today, for niyaaz. *grins* For the first time, I must add.

And it was a delectable delight, I am glad everyone liked it.

My mehnat ka phal... err..or should I say 'halwa'

Umm... Actually it was supposed to be a brighter shade of green but I cooked it a tad bit too much so.... the food colour isn't much to be blamed. Hehe. However, it turned out to be yummy-licious! And by the way, making this made me feel happy from the inside. So, I guess being happy isn't that hard, huh? *smiles* Anyways, now that my halwa has passed the delectability test , ami jani suggests I should make it again on the 15th Shahbaan. Insha'Allah! 

Abbas-e-ba-wafa teri midhat mein kya likhon..

Chun Li Khayal Ne Jo Azal Se Ali(AS) Ki "Ain"
"Bay" Bizat-e-Rasool(SAWW) Ki Ismat Ka Zaib-o-Zain
Alhamd Ke "Alif" Ka Sirapa Dilon Ka Chayn
Wal Ins Ki Yeh "Seen" Ye Nutq-e-Dil Hussain(AS)
Har Harf Kaainat Ka Akkas Ban Gaya
Dekha Jo Ghor Kar Ke Tu Abbas(AS) Ban Gaya...

Wiladat-e-Moula Abul Fazl Abbas Alamdar Shehanshah-e-Wafa (AS) Mubarak..

Shah Ast Hussain(AS)

Afzal Hai Kul Jahan Se Gharana Hussain(AS) Ka,
Nabiyon Ka Tajdar Hai Nana Hussain(AS) Ka,
Ek Pal Ki Thi Bas Hukumat Yazid Ki,
Sadiyan Hussain(AS) Ki Hain, Zamana Hussain(AS) Ka...

Wiladat-e-Moula Hussain(AS) Mubarak

Roh-e-Azaa'n Hai Baap Tu Beta Namaz-e-Dee'n
Masjid Ali(AS) Ki Hai Tu Mussal'a Hussain(AS) Ka
Jageer-e-Kibriya Hui Taqseem Is Tarah
Kaa'ba Ali(AS) Ka, Arsh-e-Mo'ala Hussain(AS) Ka..

A Letter

Dear xyz,

This is to inform you that it might seem as if I am falling apart but there is a possibility- and not so remote, that this is not the case.

Another thing that I am eager to bring to your notice is that yes, I have issues to deal with but mind you, love is the least of all my problems. To tell you the truth, I doubt if it is at all one of my problems, to begin with.

Therefore, kindly do not get any ideas. Do not strain your brain. There is only a little left of it anyways.

That is going to be all for now.

Sincerely,

Ann.

Lying flat on the cold waters of longings, I am staring at the gray sky- with an empty gaze. My body still, my hands stretched out. Like a lifeless object drifting on the water surface, I am drifting pointlessly. I might as well be dead. However, the rare blink of my eyes suggests otherwise. I lie still- and lifeless. Let the gentle waves drift me in whichever direction they please. I will not protest. I will not. No.

Twist

My story is a tad bit different from you. It has a twist. A twist that even the most imaginative of all fancies will strain to  fathom.

Broken glass

No matter how happy you might feel at a time. There will always be little shards of broken glass lying in some solitary corners of your heart that will prick you every so often and remind you of their existence.

And what really are these shiny but piercing little pieces of glass, you ask? Are you sure you don't already know the answer, my dear?

Garmi Ne Kebab Bana Diya Hai...

Read that in a Pathan-like accent. Haha.

I like pathans. They are cute. Especially their dialect. And then they use these weird words that other people usually don't, like "Zalim", "Zakhmi", et cetera. I remember Zafar bhai (our once-upon-a-time driver) once saying something to a chowkidar in Pashtu, the only words that my brain could register and process were "zalim garmi", while sitting at the back seat of the car at that time, I wanted to burst out in giggles.   :)

So, today I went to a local bazaar, a  Friday Bazaar.  My mother was going so I went along with her despite the scorching heat. Haye Allah! Don't ask kitni garmi thi. I am not a big shopping fan but I went anyway- had nothing better to do. But the garmi.. Uff! I could literally feel drops of sweat dripping down my skin. Eww, sick. I am giving out too much detail, no? Lol. Anyways, so it was at this bazaar that I heard a Pathan vendor say to himself, "Haye! Garmi ne kebab bana diya hai.." I liked what he said, hence the title. Hahah.  Then there was this other vendor who heard us talking to each other in Sindhi and started talking to us in sindhi as well . My mouth nearly dropped open. Lol. I looked at him closely to see if he really did look like a Pathan. Then, he told us that his nani is (or was, I am not sure) a Sindhi. Trust me, he sounded very awesome, speaking Sindhi with a Pashtu accent. *chuckles*


Mhmm... Yes, I am back to my senses. I have no idea what had gotten into me that night. Nothing especial really happened, it was not because of someone or anyone. It was just me feeling a little, err... feeling a little... I don't know, weird might be the word. I just typed down everything that was on my mind and now that I read it for the first time after publishing it, I feel lame. *curls toes* This blog is becoming more of a personal diary. o_0 I have started scribbling my thoughts down as blog posts in their most raw form. Sighs.

So, yes. Sidra was right. I needed to get out of the house. Breathe in some fresh air. I was brain dead, perhaps and needed more oxygen. And so, I decided to go to take the today's swimming lesson. I had already been bunking the previous two classes. *passes a sheepish smile* C'mon. I was tired. I sometimes, only sometimes, find it hard to wake up early bhaee. I finally completed the whole lap in one go doing freestyle.  *Wohoo* Swimming is fun. It keeps me distracted- for two hours atleast. No, actually more because after swimming I am so tired I have no idea how the day passes. I am amazed how I have made a pretty good amount of friends at the pool. Me? Making friends? Now that is a surprise. By the way, to tell you a fact, people find me haughty at first sight. Can you believe it? I have NO idea why. There is a line between being reserved and being arrogant. A thin line, although. I am sorry, I do not like socializing so much. You cannot kill me for that now, can you? *smiles*

I love water. But open waters scare me.

You know what else scares me? Mhmm.. We will talk about that some other time, may be...  

I am feeling very weird right now. I have not felt this way since a very very long time. I cannot recall when was the last time when I felt the same way. I am feeling sick. Yes, sick. I don't know what is wrong with me all of a sudden. I don't know what I want. I don't know so many things. I am having this khichri of thoughts being cooked in my head. Strange resonance. Long forgotten echoes. Different dialogues by different people are banging against the walls of head. I am not able to put in words what I am going through right now. I am failing to understand what is it that I want. I am failing to uphold myself. I am feeling open. Exposed. Vulnerable. I feel as if I have exposed myself to damages. I am feeling weak. A swarm of rebellious thoughts have broken into my mind for no reason, without any sort of stimulus. I am feeling insignificant. What am I? Who am I? Where is my place? I want to go away somewhere far far away from here. Some place where I will be away from all of you. So that I do not have to listen to your excuses, your reasons and your alibis for being away from me. So that I do not have to hear any of that. So that I do not have to force myself to believe in those alibis despite knowing how weak they are. I want to get lost in the vastness of this universe so that none of you can find me. So that I can never blame any of you for not understanding me. So that I have no one to complain. I am losing my mind, I think. I am failing to understand my own self so how is it that I so easily blame others for not understanding something that even I cannot comprehend at times. This is gibberish. I have waited the entire day for the match to start and now that nearly half the game has passed, I am still sitting here writing something that makes no sense to my own self. Sighs. I am just going to go now.

Jal-Thal

I lied.

I still love you

I was not sure anymore but today when it came again. I had to accept and surrender in front of it. I suppose I was just mad at it for being gone for so long. I suppose I was just very angry at it for not missing me. For not having time for me. For meeting others. For making them laugh and giggling with them, while I passed my days and nights watching the clear skies and lamenting over it. I suppose I was mad at it for leaving me on my own and turning a blind eye towards me. For being inconsiderate to the fact that I was yearning for it to come and pour on me until every inch of my existence was drenched in it. I was just angry. My anger had blurred my view and all I could see was my anguish and my feelings against it.

It came yesterday. It came before that too. But it did not matter to me. As the beads of water falling down on the ground caught my eye I turned my gaze away. I felt disinterested. The raindrops tapped on my window but I refused to listen. I rather found more fascination in staring at a blank wall than paying any attention to the noise of the rain. Yes, it sounded noise to my ears. There was no song anymore. It kept calling my name for a while then perhaps discouraged by my indifference, it went away. A smirk embraced my lips. "So that was it, uh? That was all you got? Gave up so soon?"

This peekaboo played by the rain made the weather a bit more heavy. It grew hotter and  suffocating. The land was venting out its heat.

I needed a vent too. I felt frustrated too. The clouds came once again yesterday. The rain made a touchdown once again. It tried appeasing me but I maintained my "rootha howa sanam" stance. I wanted it to try a little harder. Deep down I had a fear sitting in a corner of my heart with knees drawn to the chest and with arms clenching the legs tightly. Afraid that probabaly I was pushing a little too much over the edge. Afraid that it might stop trying altogether and leave me again- for good, perhaps. The cocoon that I had created around myself had started cracking already. It was only a matter of a few more knocks and I would have come out of it. But what if the knocking stops before the shell breaks open. And as I feared, the tappings stopped. There is only a certain limit against which you can push others. The anguish started encircling me again.

Then came today, I had no hopes of it coming back. But for some reason it did. It came and returned triumphant. Today it came with an adamant attitude. It poured and poured. It roared louder and louder. I had to give in. I gave in. After all, there is only a certain limit against which you can push yourself too. And as I gave in, it seemed to smile at me. The raindrops kissed all over my face as one kisses a beloved on seeing him/her after a long long time. I smiled at its madness too. "So the feeling was mutual, I see.." I laughed.

After a good enough spell of rain, the land has cooled down and now seems in bliss. The downpour has washed the dust off the roads, houses, buildings, trees- and hearts. The brisk breeze stops by every now and then and whispers something in my ears and paints a smile across my lips.

Yes, I lied. I still love you, dear rain.

Bored. You see my all-over-the-place blog entries. Yupe, that is boredom. I am writing nirri bakwaas and nothing but. Hardly two weeks have passed since the exams got over and I have started having boredom attacks. And I am planning to take the December session off. The whole six months. Yeah, right. *rolling eyes* My imagination is a complete wacko! I imagine things beyond imagination. Sooch hai aapki! By the way, these days I am adoring this phrase "sooch hai aapki". I want to say it at the end of each and every sentence I utter. *chuckles* Just received a text message from F. She was asking if I had got hurt after the last night's fall. God! I tripped in front of everybody.... Ufff! I should stop making a fool out of myself in front of everybody. But it is making me laugh now. Lol. 

I have asked Bhaijaan to get me a pair of turtles. He thought I was joking and hence was not taking me seriously. Ami jani is not allowing me to have kittens at any cost and actually neither will Papa jani. He too keeps telling me to STAY AWAY from furry animals. Allergies, Huh! I have told my little sister Z. to make sure to get a note signed from whomever that I will be married to saying that I will be allowed to keep kittens. This will be a precondition to my acceptance of their proposal. *smiles*  So anyways, as the possibility of getting kittens now is becoming remote and remote-er I am thinking of turtles now. I'll name one as Messi and the other as Kaka. Uh, what if one is a female? o_0 Oops! Have not thought about that. I think I will also buy a pair of gold fish. One named Rafa and the other Federer. Heheheh. Khair, finally I have managed BJ to understand that I am serious. I asked him to go check turtles out in the Empress Market. He went there. He cursed me for sending him there. It stinks. Hahaha. He wants me to come with him and buy the turtles myself. He thinks I ask too many questions and so proposed that instead of asking him I should ask the pet shop walay people. I can't go to the Empress Market!!!!

I want to sleep. Goodnight. I am feeling funny. Ah, whatever. Goodnight!

Once upon a time..

"I loved rain too, once upon a time. I am not very sure anymore... "

It rained. But it did not matter to me. This time it was just drops of water falling off the sky. A mere weather phenomenon.

My life was never multi-coloured. It has been in monochrome for a long time now except for some stray splashes of colours that spill over from different people and their lives. However, it does not bother me except but when I think of you. You have painted your life with brightest colours so much so that when I look at you my eyes hurt, they sting. Whereas, when I look back at myself, whatever I see is almost always in grayscale.

Sighs.

I am getting tired of my fake pledges. Every other week I repeat to myself, "It should not matter to me... I should stop doing this or that... blah blah and more such blah". Nevertheless, every other week I witness a repeat telecast of the same dramas with the same climaxes that I have watched for about a thousand and a half times. Perhaps, I secretly hope and pray that may be, just may be, this time all this will end differently. In vain. This time as well I want to tell myself, "Listen you! You will not do this again." But I cannot find enough courage in me.

My tragedy is that my feelings are locked in a box whose keys were never given to me. My tragedy, my dear, is that my justifications are never good enough. My tragedy, my dear, is that no matter how groundless your reasons are they are always good enough. My tragedy, my dear, is that my words are delivered from my fingers only. My tragedy, my dear, is that my tongue refuses to cater to my words. My tragedy, my dear, is that even when I am right, you coax me into believing otherwise. My tragedy, my dear, is you.

I am not wrong but I am unable to prove myself right. And as far as I have experienced, you are not innocent until proved guilty. You are guilty until proved innocent. It does not matter how loud I scream my innocence out. I need an alibi - that is good enough. Where will I ever get an alibi that is better than yours? Nowhere.

I wish you knew how tired I am. I am tired of being wrong. I am tired of being sorry. I am tired. And so is the reader.

Seriously??

"... It should not matter what I do, whatever I do you should just keep on playing your part... "

Another Looong Day *Yawns*

Phew! The days finally over. It was 22nd Rajab so the Koonday and all. I love Koonday, they are my favourite kind of niyaaz/nazar. Had loads of fun Masha'Allah however, it was pretty tiring. Everybody in the family had the niyaaz at their places mama, Aunta and us. Went to Aunta's place pretty late (after their official time was over). My Aunta's home used to be the only place other than home that I loved being at.  It still is (I guess). Things change.

How I wish everything could go back to the way it used to be. Sighs. Not that I do not like the way things are now. They are good. But not as good as they used to be. I think I should stop living in my past and accept what present has to offer. I need to stop comparing things in time.  All of us have grown out of our clothes. I need to start liking our new clothes. They ain't that bad after all. Snap out of it Ann. *Looks up in the sky and secretly whispers under the breath* Alhumdolillah.

Anyways, so as usual I embarrassed myself once again. It is becoming a chronic habit, you see. :) I tripped off my feet in  a drawing room full of people at Aunta's place. My heel caught up in the threads of the rug and I.... I will leave the rest to your imagination. Why oh why does it always have to happen at Aunta's place only. I have no idea how did I manage to save myself and plus mama held me instantly which kind of saved me from any kind of damages. Bhabhi says, "Nazar utar lena apni, itni pyaari lag rahi thi.." Ami jani  seems to agree with her. Hahaha. Yes, Yes, Allah Sa'iin acted pretty generously while he made me, I know. *smiles*

Falling isn't bad. But falling in front of so many people is bad bad bad. Especially, that one person in front of whom I unintentionally become so conscious. I would have rather preferred dying instead of tripping in front of that one person. Sighs. Anyways, I escaped out of the room and then I told F. and my sister my chronicles. Later when everybody was going into the dining room they started asking me questions again. "Are you okay?" "You aright?" "Kya howa?" Blah blah and more blah. I couldn't take it and my eyes started filling up with the God forsaken salty water again. Uh! The stupid tears. Thanks God B. was sitting beside me so she hugged me and said a few little things to make me giggle a little. I love her. :)

Anyways, Never mind. :) Aall izz welll.. I am stuffed (or not), actually *smiles sheepishly* I am feeling a little hungry right now. I know, I know, I shouldn't. But I am. *smiles*

A Series of Unfortunate Events.. :(

Argentina..... *breaks out in sobs* YOU FOOLS!!! Why oh why?? *weeps*

First goes Brazil... Then you guys... Thank God Spain made it (marginally, huh)... Warna tu I would have had a nervous breakdown.

Bad times.. Even Federer was knocked out... Lets see what happens to Nadal. He'll not disappoint me, I am sure. ;)

Edited:
P.S. I really do not have anything (interesting) to blog about these days. Umm... There are, although, a few little blobs jumping up and down inside my head. Lets see if I can shape those blobs into words anytime soon.

13th Rajab

 Safar Taweel Hai, Raah-e-Nijat Chotti Hai
Ali(AS) Ka Zikr Bohat Hai, Hayat Chotti Hai
Ali(AS) Ko Kaise Mein Moula-e-Kainaat Kahon
Bara Hai Naam-e-Ali(AS) Kainaat Chotti Hai...

Wiladat-e-Moula Ali(AS) Mubarak =)

Conundrums and other fuzooliyaat

Main Entry: co·nun·drum

Pronunciation: \kə-ˈnən-drəm\

Function: noun

Etymology: origin unknown

Date: 1645

1 : a riddle whose answer is or involves a pun
2 a : a question or problem having only a conjectural answer b : an intricate and difficult problem

God forbid, but happiness is unhealthy for my blog. When I am not sad *does that mean I am happy?*, I do not have the slightest idea what to write about. And actually, it's not even despair that brings out the creativity in me.

*Disruptions: You want to know what it is? Why would you want to know? Who are you anyways?*

Anyhow, despair, anxiety or  hurt are not feelings powerful enough to derive me to write something 'nice'. What creates magic is "bitterness"!

I, often, lead myself to believe that perhaps, I am in love with my sorrows. *Is that something like self-pity?* Sighs. Or may be, they have become very dear to me because I have grown more intimate with them. BUT, the plain-vanilla-kind sadness does not interest me. I like my cake of despair drenched in the dark chocolate syrup of bitterness. I like being stingy.

I am afraid I am sprinting on the path to insanity. My heart and mind seem to be a battleground for Armageddon, that is fought on a daily basis (nearly). I want to climb on the highest mountain only and only so that I can scream my lungs out for once, just for once. Ugh!

I want to slap someone, anyone. Uh? What the hell is wrong with me? I started writing this in a fairly good mood  but now.. I am not sure if it is still in that condition! How about I slap myself? *chataakhh*

*chuckles* I think I am just bored.

P.S. Choose any of the two definitions, you will get me anyway (or not). *smiles*

Finding my Daemon..

Your result for The Golden Compass Daemon Test...

Multi-Faceted Soul

In a way, you are a truly balanced person. You have a good sense of self, but you have periods of worry and self doubt. You don't like to be alone a lot, but you don't like being constantly surrounded, either. You can be shy in some situations and bold in others. You can tell people how you feel, but you don't wear your heart on your sleeve. You aren't "TOO" anything: You aren't too shy, you aren't too aggressive, you aren't too extroverted, you aren't too introverted. However at any one time you can be any combination of these things.

You tend to adapt yourself to match the situations in which you find yourself. You may be quiet and sensitive with some people, or joking and loud with others. These are all facets of your personality. People tend to perceive you as they want to perceive you. They may even tend to idealize you a bit. Then, when you do something that doesn't fit their concept of who you are (like have an outburst of anger, or a fit of shyness, or make an insensitive joke)they can be shocked and surprised. Does anyone know the real you?

Your daemon would represent your multi-faceted and ever-changing personality, as well as people's tendency to idealize you. He or she would get angry when you did not, be calm and poised when you felt ruffled and anxious, and always be the voice of emotion and reason in your ear.

Suggested forms:
Swan, Elephant, Koala, Panda, Chameleon, Wolf.

(Courtest: HelloQuizzy)


P.S. I think this is me. I think if we could really have our Daemons, I would not have needed people. I am not a people's person anyways except just a few whom I like being crazy with. Oh and by the way, I scored 79% higher than my peers on "Sensitivity Analysis". (The new software that I installed for indifference is malfunctioning again, I guess. Too bad)

For Papa Jani, With Lots Of love.

There is only about an hour left for the day to pass away. It is Father's Day, right. First of all, I am not a very big fan of associating particular days with particular relations and especially with relations as ethereal as that pf parents. However, I will do this Happy Father's Day thing. So, until I am done with this testimonial of mine the date would have passed but umm.. I'm running my clock on the Brazilian standard time for the time being. =) Because... My father is in Brazil these days, silly. Hehehe.

My father. My papa, actually and baba for my bhai-jaans. I will not say anything about being a good daughter 'cause I really doubt that possibility. But my papa jani is the best father that a person like me could have got. I am a very sinful person yet Allah Sa'in's mercy and bounty knows no limits. I am this horrible person who has a high tendency to hurt those who love me and even those whom I love. I tend to hurt others for no reason that relates to them. It is crazy with me.

There are times when even my ami jani finds me hopeless and just shrugs her shoulders at me, walks away and stops speaking to me. It really hurts. It hurts because I am an attention seeker. I throw tantrums because I want people (who love me, of course) to prove to me time and again that they love me. Demented, you think? You have a right to say that because I agree with that proposition. Love is never enough for me, I always want more. I think that is some kind of complex too however, I have no idea how it became a part of my personality. I am flawed and this trait is one of the the most major flaws.

My papa on the other hand, is always always always ready to welcome my tantrums with open arms. When I am annoyed and I act all serious and grave. It bugs him. He starts asking me what's up with me. I, of course, do not give him a satisfactory answer and then he starts questioning my mother about me. He does not rest until he finally succeeds at making me smile (laugh most of the times).

I bet it is only him who can make me laugh in the most grim-est of moods. He has something in him... He makes some weird faces that are usually an imitation of my weird face.. He says some stuff and he makes it so hard not to laugh or smile. Then I usually give him a tight hug and rush into my room or the bathroom and start crying and curse myself for causing my parents so much pain.

There is this idiom in urdu "jaan chirakna", I have got a father who literally does that. We even have fights. Almost always I am wrong but those very few times when he is wrong he literally comes to me and tries to appease me.

Oh God! Papa you are spoiling me. You know what scares me? What scares me most is the fact that I have been pampered and loved so lavishly but my papa will not always be with me. I will have to marry and be with someone else. This extravagant love showered upon me has made me lose the sense of balance between things. I look at everybody wearing the same specs that I use to look at my father. I presume unreasonably that those who love me will love me with the same intensity. But this is not true.

When I look at my father, my parents actually I thank God for he has blessed me but when I look at myself I realise that they might not be as lucky  to have me as I am to have them in my life. I love you, papa. And I am missing you these days. FIFA is no fun without you, however I will watch it and update you. I am not even watching the Asian Cup. I am glad that we watched French Open together, by the way I don't like Serena Williams at all- I have no idea why you like her! Hmph!

Allah Sa'iin, I am really sorry. Please forgive me. I have been bad over and over again. I have sought your mercy and yet committed the same sins again and again. I have no idea how you forgive me. All I know is that though my sins make a hideous heap but the mountain of your mercy is always always taller. But Allah Sa'iin this time forgive me in a way so that I may never return to the filthy waters of vices. I am sorry.

I love you, Papa.  From your chhota driver.

A dream deferred...

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up 

like a raisin in the sun? 

Or fester like a sore-- 

And then run? 

Does it stink like rotten meat? 

Or crust and sugar over-- 

like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags 

like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

-Langston Hughes

Do you dream? Do you hold them close to your heart? Are your dreams the paint brushes that colour your life? Do you believe in them? Do you still?

I don't.

For me, dreams are like stars. When you are a child, you look up at them and smile. Their twinkle creates a mirror image in your eyes. You wish to touch them so that some of their shimmer might stick to your fingers and then you can brush your face gently and glitter like a star itself. But once you grow up, the truth is slapped onto you. The stars are nothing but huge spheres of very hot, glowing gases. First of all, you cannot touch them and even if you somehow do, you will burn yourself.

There is something else common between them as well. Their death. When stars die, they explode into trillions of pieces and go flying haywire in the space, hit whatever comes in their path, destroy (or damage) others; or just get lost in the eternal vastness of the universe. When dreams die, they too shatter into billion little sharp pieces. But they don't fly away, they stay put- in your eyes, and prick them, and sting them for as long as they can. They are like tiny pieces of glass stuck in your eyes. Each time you blink, they make it hurt.

Stars are just a hoax. Their shine, their twinkle lasts only as long as you are gazillions of miles away from them. They are nothing but giant burning balls, oblivious and orbit-less. They are a sham. And so are dreams.