expressome...

MyMemoirs

2007-04-10T22:54:00.000+05:00

I can't explain anything....
...even to myself.

This is something I can't articulate in prose, maybe I can't even place my finger on what it's about...

Mymemoirs

The dank salt of stale heat curls from
the window clammed. The sweltering metropolis
is kept out. The vipers on the windshield
are sedate. There are many of me:
a sparkling frisky or nimble girl in a pleated skirt,
a South-Asian foreign student, and later,
a wheatish nymph stripped to her underwear.
Recalling makes a reluctant ramble
through the nostalgic mindscape- solitary,
but resembling in it’s many similarities
of streets, narrow lanes with crammed, chaste fiber-where I shrivel
with the reaper’s skepticism and sour doubt.

Repeatedly I feel often
the Distraction is invading, the Distraction is invading Mymemoirs.
His able hands clasp my vapory will,
their lines conceal the mottle of loneliness,
I am a wild-weed tumbling in a tide of air,
my resolve brittle as bird bones,
I who always saw a contained clout in her mirror-self
combusting red heat crackle-crack
lighting up the sun-smeared yolk sky,
where all feathery constrains take wings.
The admittance drains him washed blank
like a sunken stream.

And was the silent river thick with content,
that no ripples spiraled into its gut,
were its motionless currents brackish as the dead sea
where no one was allowed to drown
in it’s stagnant tide, what would he say?
The winter ocean is drab-soot, the sludge dark waves cringe
with the dampened air flaccid as his morale,
like a fringe of deposited dirty foam.
Overcast reason! Clouded like my words
that rise as metal fog from exhaling ducts,
smogmist and haze-
yes, they are nothing concrete.
He is emanating in Mymemoirs.

He must draw dewdrops from the grey mist
within his lungs to breathe my tears,
to taste my words or decipher doubtfully.
He will barge in through the rattling iron
of my steel space
where I will let him seep in like spirited wind,
like a circling current of air
then holding my syllables by their scanty veins
inhale all reason from my say
now bare as a clearing or loneliness.

i feel...

2007-04-10T22:46:00.000+05:00

exhausted.
stripped.
drained.

*empty*

Electrocution

2007-04-10T19:00:00.000+05:00

The grip went slack and then
it plunged in a turbid pool of
colorless, no one can tell
what I lack. Except I,
who can still savor the
mumble of unsaid words
slide over me, sluggish
as the caress of your calculated
careless gaze. You may be
grey in my absence
but that flick of wrist
tells me, I must
just as warily
empty my life of you. But before
the bubble of tar mist can
burst, in my protective puckered hand sinks
our charged aftermath in a
capsized glass balloon.

2007-03-18T20:36:00.000+05:00

I’ve been writing here and there, bits and pieces…haven’t had much time to put it together, post it…I’m off for a bit…maybe I should.
Life’s changed, a lot.
I don’t recognize what’s mine anymore.

2007-03-18T20:34:00.000+05:00

Sometimes I feel your absence so strongly, and the empty bed becomes a reminder of all that used to be. I miss you my Apa, and I love you more than I say.

Wouldn't You Agree...?

2007-02-03T01:47:00.000+05:00

5 years ago I discovered “Groovy Kind of Love” (Phil Collins-“Buster”).

Then, it was a sappy love song, and me being me, really liked it but animated “Tarzan’s” soundtrack by Phil Collins soon won over.

5 years later rediscovered “Groovy Kind of Love” when a friend strummed it on the guitar.

Now, it’s still a love song. But one that can bring me to tears. The I’m-smiling-but-the-tears-can’t-stop-rolling-down-my-eyes-and-I-know-I-look-crazy sort of crying.

On repeat since the past two hours. Like I’ve said there’s something about such song rediscoveries. Nostalgia + Relevance+ Epiphanies, may be the most remarkable combination for a good grasp on any subject matter, but certainly isn’t a very blithe one.
Just the way he says…”Wouldn’t you agree….?”… is ample reason for a fresh bout of tears.

Groovy Kind Of Love

When i'm feeling blue, all i have to do
Is take a look at you, then i'm not so blue
When you're close to me, i can feel your heart beat
I can hear you breathing near my ear
Wouldn't you agree, baby you and me got a groovy kind of love

Anytime you want to you can turn me onto
Anything you want to, anytime at all
When i kiss your lips, ooh i start to shiver
Can't control the quivering inside
Wouldn't you agree, baby you and me got a groovy kind of love, oh

When i'm feeling blue, all i have to do
Is take a look at you, then i'm not so blue
When i'm in your arms, nothing seems to matter
My whole world could shatter, i don't care
Wouldn't you agree, baby you and me got a groovy kind of love
We got a groovy kind of love, oh
We got a groovy kind of love
-Phil Collins
P.S: Is this still the ‘me’ I know?? It’s gotto be hormonal! Still haven’t magically morphed into the kind of person who would react this way. Ok I’m not going to defend myself or what I just wrote. And I certainly can’t believe I’m gonna publish

2007-01-11T21:14:00.000+05:00

im hurting. i dont know more so on what...losing what we had...having what we have...or wanting that which we can't seem to get.

Can't access comments!!!

2006-12-17T13:14:00.000+05:00

I'm not being rude..i generally reply to comments...but for some reason
I CANT ACCESS MY COMMENTS WINDOW!!!
i can see new comments posted but i JUST CANT ACCESS THEM!!! HOW FRUSTRATIN!G!!!
ARGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2006-12-12T00:06:00.000+05:00

nah...
things arent so weird.
or maybe they are.
hmmm...i dunno.
im still confused...
=)
somethings definitely WRONG with me!
or maybe its right...
hmmm.....i dunno.
im still confused...
=(
i should tell it to stop
or maybe i should just let it be...
hmmm...i dunno.
im still confused...
=
"something" definitely happens
or maybe it's just another 'thing'
hmmm.....i dunno.
Im still confused...
=
I don't want to take it so seriously anymore
but maybe i should...
hmmm...i dunno.
Im so confused...
=
"this" might be ruining what there is
or maybe it's finding something better...
hmm...i dunno.
im majorly confused...
=
we maybe careless, you and me....
but it's not ruined...it's still there...
maybe it'll survive
but maybe it won't
hmmm...i dunno.
Im completely confused...

Im not just confused...no im not.

Im highly conflicted...yes i am.

Careless you and Careless me

2006-12-02T16:57:00.000+05:00

Right now I resent you and I resent myself more for ruining a friendship so flawed and imperfectly perfect.
And this song is making things worse.

Time can never mend the careless whispers of a good friend
To the heart and mind, ignorance is kind
there's no comfort in the truth
pain is all you'll find

Should've known better

I feel so unsure
as I take your hand and lead you to the dance floor
as the music dies, something in your eyes
calls to mind the silver screen
and all its sad good-byes

I'm never gonna dance again
guilty feet have got no rhythm
though it's easy to pretend
I know your not a fool

Should've known better than to cheat a friend
and waste the chance that I've been given
so I'm never gonna dance again
the way I danced with you

Time can never mend
the careless whispers of a good friend
to the heart and mind
ignorance is kind
there's no comfort in the truth
pain is all you'll find

I'm never gonna dance again
guilty feet have got no rhythm
though it's easy to pretend
I know you’re not a fool
Should've known better than to cheat a friend
and waste this chance that I've been given
so I'm never gonna dance again
the way I danced with you

Never without your love

Tonight the music seems so loud
I wish that we could lose this crowd
Maybe it's better this way
We'd hurt each other with the things we'd want to say

We could have been so good together
We could have lived this dance forever
But noone's gonna dance with me
Please stay

And I'm never gonna dance again
guilty feet have got no rhythm
though it's easy to pretend
I know you’re not a fool

Should've known better than to cheat a friend
and waste the chance that I've been given
so I'm never gonna dance again
the way I danced with you

(Now that you're gone) Now that you're gone
(Now that you're gone) What I did was so wrong
that you had to leave me alone

-Careless Whisper
George Michael

2006-11-25T16:06:00.000+05:00

writing fiction is hard work!!!
will post the book here...if it EVER ends!

2006-11-24T17:36:00.000+05:00

More or less a hundred or so posts later...I go through my dashboard and browse through some old ramblings. It suddenly dawns on me that I have been restricting much of my writing to certain limited aspects of my life. Admitted, there are some eulogies to Karachi, like "dual Karachi" and “Where cobwebs dwell” and some about Faiz, and Ghalib and songs and then some random uttering and mutterings thrown in now and then. But on the whole they remain constrained. I don’t “blog” much about other things, maybe because I blog mostly when I just need to make certain things “vocal”, and seem to loose the voice to verbalize them. I guess it is a realization…I got some awesome, and I do mean AWESOME comments all the way down there where the more diversified posts lie. Hence, Resolution # 3967 : Write more often, more diverse. (as soon as I get done with this book design project, which is also…ironically on Karachi. Much excitement! But buried under the pressure of workload and time constrains…hoping for a miracle, soon! =)

2006-11-20T22:48:00.000+05:00

so of late I have mostly been keeping to myself. Highly strange...i've withdrawn a bit, I've mellowed a bit. i dont really know whats up with me...I really dont know whats down with me. And this post makes no sense, has no purpose. Im just deliberately delaying working. Im not even punctuating properly =)

somethings missing...yet again,.
argh.
bleckh
blah.
completely Blah.

Good Riddance

2006-11-01T19:27:00.000+05:00

To,
The Cyst
Former Resident,
Slight Left,
Lower Back.
Expressome, 2006.

Cyst,
Im glad your'e gone. Having u around was no fun, but honestly getting you out of me (unwillingly, i must add, emergency mein) was torture, but the weeks after were even worse. And coming from someone whose threshold of pain is way higher than average, that is saying alot. You made me suffer and endure a great amount of physical pain at a time when I was buried under the anguish of emotional pain.
Thanks alot for nothing.
Good Riddance.

The Cardiac Probe

2006-11-01T17:54:00.000+05:00

I asked the little whiner why it can’t beat even a bit faster for either one of those senseless souls who tell me they’ll do all it takes, they will go the whole nine yards, they’ll wait, they’ll win me over somehow.
I nudge the little critter to at least try to beat a bit faster at the timbre of their voice, at seeing their name on my phone screen, in my mailbox, or when they sign in…

So I said, “You damn thing, for someone who chronically palpitates you sure seem to be having trouble beating faster when I tell you to! You indolent freak! Try getting down to some action when I tell you to.”

It replied, “Silly girl! You never listened to me when I warned you, you got in way over your head. Try all you might, try all you may. But stop kidding yourself it just ain’t happening with anyone else anymore”.

Damn Freak.

Believe.

2006-10-02T00:40:00.000+05:00

Lessons I learnt/ am learning…When they say they give a damn believe them.
When hurting someone will cause you pain…don’t hurt them.
Believe, because doubt kills even the strongest of relationships.
If they find it in their heart to forgive you after you have wronged them a million times then believe that it’s worth it, he is worth it, if as nothing more because it scares the life out of screwed up and confused you, then at least as a good friend.
And its good to BELIEVE and not want proof.

2006-09-28T19:18:00.000+05:00

I am so conflicted, so confused…
about nothing else in life just you.

Too many ‘whys’ too many ‘what ifs’
Back to bubble wrapping myself.

Suspicious Mind

2006-09-09T22:16:00.000+05:00

“We can’t go on together with suspicious minds
And we can’t build our dreams on suspicious minds”

Suspicious Minds-Elvis Presly

I can't go on with this suspicious mind, U deserve better than to be doubted by this suspicious mind.

Why ask me about life without U...

2006-09-03T16:46:00.000+05:00

Why ask me about life without U?
…a life I don’t want to think of.

I’ve found in you an irreplaceable friend… no matter how complex life is with you in it…I would rather not have it any other way. You’re just a friend, but a friend so much more than any other. I wouldn’t know soooo many things about me, so many things about the world. Do I give u more credit than u deserve? I can’t be an impartial judge of that and neither can you. U may think so…but somehow I don’t, the credit is yours to claim.

You tossed my world upside down by making me question and redefine my staunch beliefs, ideas and principles, and subsequently reassess how resolute and pertinent they were in the first place. You got me rid of sameness, of the mundane, of the ordinary. Without you I wouldn’t be pushing my boundaries, discovering life the way I am. I wouldn’t be discovering myself (or be as patient or tolerant as I have become!). Without you I wouldn’t have known who I truly am, I wouldn’t have grown out of who I thought I was. Without you I’d be living but wouldn’t be as alive.

Shubho Drishti

2006-09-01T18:03:00.000+05:00

I’ve never been one to go ga-ga over romantic gibberish. Somehow….this touched somewhere deep inside.

“They say in the old tales that when a man and woman exchange looks the way we did, their spirits mingle. Their gaze is a rope of gold binding each to the other. Even if they never meet again, they carry a little of the other with them always. They can never forget, and they can never be wholly happy again.”
“That is why, in families that kept the ancient traditions, girls were not allowed to meet men until the moment of auspicious seeing, shubho drishti, when the bride and groom gave themselves to each other with their eyes. It wasn’t, as Anju said, to keep the woman ignorant and under control. The elders in their wisdom had done it to prevent heartbreak.”

- Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni
Excerpt: Sister of My Heart.

Just Completely

2006-09-01T13:11:00.000+05:00

I know how to give myself just one way…wholly and completely. Mind, body and heart.
I can’t give just bits and pieces of me…pieces and parts.
I’m not her, I can’t be her.
If that’s all you want I’m sure that you will find her.
We both deserve more than that.

Alive again?

2006-08-14T01:42:00.000+05:00

I don’t know.
Stupid again? Definitely.
I’m getting to know a new me, a me who doenst like to think too much, who doesn’t analyze as much as me, who can block out things, who will say “pl, I dot want to think right now”…..a me who is even more impulsive than me.

I don’t know how I feel about her.

I don't feel....

2006-08-06T02:01:00.000+05:00

I haven’t felt like myself in months now. Approximately 6 months now.
Its strange because I have become more and more introspective, im not writing much anymore, al I write are conversations with myself that get too complicated to stay inside my head. But other than that every time I sit to analyze something or try to put it in a coherent sentence I end up getting more and more tangled in a web. Someday I might sit down and actually write everything down. It’s strange, I’ve made some decisions and THANK GOD I am sticking to them and acting sensibly (to the best of my ability!), but how do I feel about these decisions?
Hmmmmm….sensible, safe, good most of the time. One thing that’s not the same…not since things were last as they were …I don’t feel….Alive.

Expressome searcher

2006-06-22T11:33:00.000+05:00

Who are you...Expressome searcher?

"Us"?

2006-06-06T11:48:00.000+05:00

There is no "us", there is no "we"

There's just "you and me"...

exactly what I've been afraid of...

2006-05-24T00:46:00.000+05:00

This is exactly what I have been afraid of all along....hamesha....i stayed away from complications, particularly of this sort, for various reasons, this being the most significant. And here I am thinking…

…what if I see your face instead of his.
…what if I take your name instead of his.
…what if I want all the firsts with you not him.
…what if I…care for you…not him.

*how did it happen? why did it happen? I wnat my simple life back. I can NOT deal. I really can not deal with complications, with questions, with everything we have been through. I'm the first to turn around when I see things go haywire, or if it means something I set them in order, I never let them mean anything more than they should. I want out of every complicated situation, I was an expert at keeping them at an arm's length. Then how...how did it happen? why did it happen?*

2006-05-23T17:04:00.000+05:00

Jab hum khud complicate kartay hain...and then take the decision to go ahead even with the complications because the basis of it all is too strong to let go off, the complications can forgotten and gotten rid of, but whatever lies underneath it all is not worth letting go off and accept kartay hain kay haan issues hoon gay magar koi baat naheen, I will deal, we will deal...then we shouldn't complain, not even to ourselves.

Walks Down Angell Street

2006-05-01T17:34:00.000+05:00

On random days like todayI miss those walks down Angell Street...

…the ridiculous parrot green chappals and the one size too small teal shirt I over wore that had Eeyore lazily lounging on the top left languidly declaring “wild thing”.
…the butterfly keychain that held my apartment keys uncomfortably poking my left thigh
…the detours for Subway on SubTuesdays, the tuna sandwich with extra pickle and vinegar
…the rattle of keys while I fumbled with the lock and balanced the stuff in my hand
…the slight creak of the door…the push it required to be nudged over the beige carpet

…being welcomed by my familiar apartment smell, a mixture of carpet deodorizing powder from yesterday’s vacuum, the air still faintly reminiscent of scented candle from Illuminations burning till the wee hours last night, and the inescapable aroma of desi food that exists in a space all its own no matter how much you air it out

…the evening cup of Grande Caramel Macchiatto across the street at Starbucks while working on tomorrow’s assignments. Rushing back home for Maghrib and leaving behind everything at Starbucks without a worry in the world!
The occasional episodes of ridiculous Disney Channel TV series.

…the phone calls from back home and the occasional uplifting overseas conversations with old friends

…the mundane simplicity of everyday routine and the non-complex relationships…

…wow.
Memorable yet simple days when songs were just songs , didn’t have a million memories attached to them. Weren’t reminiscent of so much more.
When fewer words had very deep associations attached to them.

Thankful for all those walks up Waterman Avenue, leading up to Thayer…

Walks down Angell Street…

Seems like another lifetime.

Complexly Misunderstood

2006-04-30T13:27:00.000+05:00

Hurts like crazy when someone whom you thought knew you inside out is the one who misunderstands you.

And I finally thought no explanations were needed and nothing had to be clarified anymore, platonic vs. non-platonic particularly.

Because it was all supposed to be crystal-clear when it came to us.

Platonically complex relations don’t need another name or label.

Black&White

2006-04-30T13:24:00.000+05:00

The reality is Black&White.
The reality has been Black&White (so you say).

The perception of reality needs to segment itself from gray to Black&White.

2006-04-30T13:22:00.000+05:00

…as life is getting messier,
room and surroundings are getting more organized, tidy and orderly.

How Typical.

Treading on Broken Glass

2006-04-25T01:02:00.000+05:00

Hardly anything is black and white anymore. It all exists in a palette of splendid but extremely hazy grays.
You tell yourself about mistakes, about acting on sheer impulse, about it not being anything deeper than it was…a moment’s whim. Even if you try convincing yourself…u fabricate deceit in your head….but who are you lying to at the end of the day?? When you know it’s a lie, but there’s just too much confusion surrounding it all to be apparent as a certainty.

When I look at things from your point of view, I see them all crystal clear, but then I am the one viewing my side from your point of view. The second I come back to my own position I see a lot of haziness. I don’t deny it when you say I’m a coward….yes I am.

I’m scared of being refuted of my perception of reality, of decline and denial.

And a lot more.

…terrifying when you know you are treading on shards of very sharp broken glass, and you are able to recognize just about everything it is and will pose in your way and you still continue treading upon this path full of broken glass.

24th April 2006

2006-04-24T23:31:00.000+05:00

There are times when a month ago can seem just like yesterday.

But it will fade...

2006-04-08T12:11:00.000+05:00

It’s strange how when we initially meet people, they remind us of certain other people in some ways, but by the time we really get to know them and form associations with them, the things about them that were similar to that of other people become so characteristically theirs that they can never be replaced by any other association.

So yesterday when Bhaiya kept mimicking the way I was talking (ya, he still does that! I have a feeling he’ll still be acting this juvenile even when I’m 50 and he’s 60 =), I told him if he wouldn’t stop I’d stop talking to him and he said “Seriously? Promise?! Thank you, God. Finally!” I gave him a “curl-up-and-die” somewhere look, but then I laughed like mad. My brother’s been doing that for years… strange how it reminds me of you now.
So characteristic of you.
Damn you =)

2006-04-08T11:51:00.000+05:00

I hate twisted toothpaste tubes….Hate them.
I hate toothpaste stains and blobs on the sink…..Hate them!

My Lonesome Blog

2006-04-02T14:01:00.000+05:00

Its no fun blogging without recieving comments from regulars and not-so-regulars.
I miss the old blogspot...
stupid ban!
some fellow bloggers post on their websites that they can not comment on my blog...whereas they can on certain others...WHY??!!!
=~( sniff.
I miss the good old blogging days.

Spring Break 2006

2006-04-02T12:59:00.000+05:00

The amount of work was insane, did not get much time to do all that I would have liked to during the much-desired break. It was nothing like last years amazing trip, it was nothing like the year before that, but it had its perks like time spent with cousins and friends I hardly get to see much anymore, bonding over breakfast, lunch and dinner. All in all it was simply just a week off with the same amount of work we usually have during school days, computer complications still made some of us go to school almost everyday…

However, I have a strong feeling I will never be able to forget Spring Break 2006.

"Some Consistency..Please!"

2006-03-17T01:07:00.000+05:00

I like consistency. I really do.
Could I please have some consistency....I can deal with weather changes...but the climate changing every week....that I cant deal with. Not at all.
I like my reality to remain my reality and not be put into question and doubt every week around.
Maybe Ive been fooling myself...maybe my reality is just some twisted concoction of my own imagination that I force myself to belive.

but I know its not that.
This is real.
Beacuse the happiness, the pain, every feeling is to real, too sharp and vivid to be an abstraction.

But I still can not deny that there is no consistency and that scares the life out of me, because I know Im heading towards a preordained and unavoidable passage...I am Spiraling towards it, head on.

And I DONT wanna crash and burn.

"You do something wonderful...
Then chase it all away,
mixing my emotions
that throws me back again"
-Paul Weller

2006-03-01T23:24:00.000+05:00

WHY is blog world DEAD??!
nothing is working!

SCAAAAArrrrrryyyyy

2006-02-26T13:40:00.000+05:00

AAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAa.
EVERYONE is on Blogger!!!
AAaaaaaaaaaaaaAAA
IF ever anyone of those who know me come across me in blogworld I hope you don't recognize me and if u do PRETEND u dont.
aaaaaaaaaaaAaaaaaaaaaa

2006-02-26T10:36:00.000+05:00

*Kratchi*
*Kurachi*
*Kara-chi*
*Karachee*
*KARACHI*

I hear whimsical whispers of the bubbling hum of suds,
witness profound vitality echoing through the soul.
Construing my perception from reality to abstraction;
such is the respiring terrain of the city I call my own.

2006-02-25T21:04:00.000+05:00

I really want to write….I don’t know what about….but I really wanna write.
Hmmm….maybe I could talk about the breathtaking sunset Karachi witnessed today, or…the absolutely incredible waves that were crashing on the big ass rock in the middle of the paani at Gadani….oh wow tat rhymed! No I’m not stoned or the like….just in one of those babbling moods where I feel like randomly going on and on…..about anything….
Some call it my caffeine high, I refute the existence of any such thing in my life…but i guess they are right! = P
but that doesn’t meanthe same ppl aren’t dumb asses, they are still wrong about alotta other things. =P

Acceptance.

2006-02-12T02:45:00.000+05:00

Admitted, you are irreplaceable. Admitted, there are no simple answers when it comes to you, when it comes to us. Admitted, this is unconditional. Admitted, not everything has to be black and white. Admitted, we are both extremely different yet somewhere deep inside, share the same marrow. Admitted, we are both complicated, complex individuals. Admitted, no one can test our patience more than each other. Admitted, no one understands us better than each other. Admitted, we can’t go a day without biting each other’s head off. Admitted, the best music is that which you make. Admitted, no song sounds the same again once you’ve sung it. Admitted, I don’t read aloud to anyone like the way I do to you. Admitted, no one makes me laugh the way you do. Admitted, I am too damn difficult for you to handle. Admitted, you are too damn complacent for my liking. Admitted, a tomorrow without you seems inconceivable.

Admitted, it can’t get any worse. Admitted, it can’t get any better.

It ain’t gonna happen. Accepted.

2006-02-12T02:43:00.000+05:00

I surrender.
I had surrendered to this confusion, stopped searching for answers a long time back. But with every passing day I realize that any effort of mine, no matter how earnest, may be a complete lost cause. Hence, I sit conquered and crushed by the ruthless force of an unexplainable sort. Random well-wishers warn me about you, hoping to enlighten me so that I may be able to care a bit more about myself. They fail to understand the twisted, sadistic euphoria of failing to refrain from this one-way street, recognizing and accepting the damage it puts me through.
No simple answers when it comes to you.
I surrender today not in defeat, but in acceptance of futility.
Or maybe they are one and the same, mind’s too fogged up to form coherent sentences.

2006-01-28T21:51:00.000+05:00

Moments… intense, intimate, deeply felt, irreplaceable, profound, captivating, exhilarating, complex, delicate and yet utterly unexplainable. To pretend that the most significant moments in the recent past have not been some of, if not the most profound in my entire life would be a treachery so far beyond the extent of justifiable conduct that I can not bear to formulate a sentence that could come close to capturing even an ounce of the resentment I feel. I know all it will take is one tiny little effort of mine to bring things back to normal but I also know that it will be nothing compared to your one tiny little effort, that will not just bring things back to normal but draw out and dissolve every bit of doubt stuck in the crevices of my being. When I can do things your way though it is the farthest from being ‘natural’ for me, is it really asking a lot for you to do things my way just once in a while. I know it can’t always be about give and take, particularly if the word of choice is ‘unconditional’, but there are times when some things are just too ‘sacred’ to be messed around with, or left unanswered. Though you would like me to believe, yet I know you are nothing even close to being cold or so stony that some thing that would move even a stranger and evoke some sort of a reaction couldn’t possibly have meant absolutely nothing to you. And to pretend that it didn’t mean a thing, and nor did the recent past constitute of some of the irreplaceable moments that I mentioned would be an act of betrayal to such a degree that I can not even begin to process the dire implications it would have. For your sake and mine…please mute the thoughtless words and quit these foolish games.

A Rarity

2006-01-28T21:19:00.000+05:00

When thoughts get so overwhelming that they cannot be expressed even when you use all the words you can to the best of your ability maybe it is time to remain silent, and let your silence speak the unspeakable. Maybe it’s the realization that you have fallen deep into a pit of self-created grayness of a sardonic reality. When the truth is right in front of us, why must we complicate matters more, in our own head and on every level of existence? And once you are done complicating things, and give up to the obscure forces of an unexplainable sort to take over logic and your reasoning ability and give in to a simple and pure form of feeling, being and existing, someone comes along and complicates things. And yet amidst all the complications, you get a glimpse of a pure sensation, not feeling, because it stems from something too basic to be called a feeling, an intensely pure sense, something that can not be explained, something that can just be felt, so pure it might get tainted by attempting to explain it. And somehow, somewhere deep inside, you know it’s irreplaceable, it’s that rarity that might be just once. And though you may be known for your grave sagacity, yet you fail miserably in holding on to that pure form that exists within your realm and is waiting to be seized. You find reasons, and explanations to run away because you get scared by the intensity of your own emotions, trembling scared by the thought of your own reactions and shivering numb at the extent of all that could be. You knew of a life without, but now that you have seen a life with, to swallow the thought of a life isolated from is a notion far beyond imagination. But the anxiety of one sidedness in any such situation is also a thought so stingingly numbing that to admit to any of the above would be the same as accepting a life drowned in callous wounds of self-pity. So you keep swaying back and forth between that pit of grayness, hanging on for dear life to the fraying rope of your so called undisputed reality, and sooner or later the ghosts from within that pit grab hold of you and try to suck you back in, and though you may struggle with them and yourself, you discover yourself inside it before you know it. And to climb back out takes the grandest of your efforts and at times may become so draining that the least bit of effort seems to require the greatest amount of all that you can not even begin to gather. And struggle though you may, the chances of coming back out look so bleak that you admit yourself to a life engulfed in wallowing desolation just to realize that there is a hand held out to lift you right out of there. Though not steady, but flickering and fading like a candle dying out, yet its presence is strong enough not to be overlooked. Dubiously you reach out, then pull back, not quite certain of what you want. The desire for it to be a steady, sure, unquivering and firm hand is fierce enough to want you to stay inside the pit, but the pull of that quivering, flickering and fading mirage is so unexplainable that you want to abandon all sense and give in to it.
So what do I do?

Where cobwebs dwell...

2005-12-24T10:46:00.000+05:00

It was the love of books and the desperate quest of a suitable place to do my environmental photojournalism essay on that compelled me towards visiting an icon that I had grown accustomed to seeing for as long as I can recall as just a structure on the route linking the old part of the city to the new one. One extremely sunny day in October 2005 I finally braved the task of visiting the place I had heard of as being “gone to the dogs”, rat-infested, neglected and vanishing. I remember being overwhelmed by nostalgia of times bygone the minute I set my eyes on the impressive edifice remnant of the golden age of the city I call my own and yet remain ignorant of several of its marvels. Nestled amidst ancient foliage in the heart of Karachi lies one such structure of marveled history, a place rich in culture and heritage containing one of the largest literary collections this city can boast of. The Frere Hall Library is an icon of a renowned past and a forgotten history. Now ill-fated to neglect and succumbed to disregard this glorious structure awaits to be rediscovered.
The construction of Frere Hall was commenced in August 1863 and it was completed in 1865 at a cost of 180,000 rupees. It was raised as a memorial to Sir Bartley Frere, Commissioner of Sindh, on his elevation to the Viceroy’s Council. The double storey structure served as a town hall at the time of its inception and was the hub of Karachi’s socio cultural activities. Soon after it became being utilized as the first Museum of Karachi and the municipal library.
The once magnificent and glorious structure that now lies covered in dust, grime and pigeon droppings needs to be recognized as an important gem in the heritage of our country and thus preserved with due importance. We are losing absolutely brilliant pieces of history and architecture due to neglect and thus, our generation, keeping myself as the most obvious example, is extremely ignorant of such architecturally and culturally saturated paradigms. The heavy wooden double doors open directly into a reading room flanked by some chairs and two tables, from the left a large window provides appropriate sunlight for a reading room. As I walk on the feathers, droppings and dust laden floor I think of the once brilliantly polished off-white marble floor. Where cobwebs now dwell, amidst the teak bookshelves lies the potential of a place thronged with avid readers. Underneath all the dust and grime lie still, books waiting to be touched once again. With the perfect amount of sunlight entering the library and ample ventilation due to the large arched windows, the potential of a much needed public library exists, the form architecturally fit and complementing this function particularly well. Spacious enough to house over seventy thousand books, manuscripts, 6 different issues of newspapers received everyday, dictionaries, atlases and technical books, it is a shame to see such a place being succumbed to neglect. I take the passageway that leads up to the desk of the librarian and am suddenly affronted by a rat, thus proving the “rat infested” theory. On both sides bookshelves are stacked to the max with an array of shelved heritage. On the right side in the rear a winding staircase leads to the top floor of the Frere Hall Library, where no person has been allowed to step up for the past one year, and therefore I remain uninformed as to what it holds. As I approach the end of the passageway and enter the second hall through a wooden arched opening, I face the librarians desk which has a clear view of the entire library. At the back of the librarian’s desk is another large pointed arch shape window, basking the second hall in warm evening sunlight. Towards my right are reams of newspapers, and rows of books and records dating back to 1958. Towards my right at the end of the room is another such window which lights up the rest of the library. It actually tears me up to see something that I feel so strongly about being wasted in this manner, because Frere Hall library, though not designed for being a library, would be able to function perfectly as one, if repaired and maintained. And the desperate need of a public library in Karachi would be fulfilled. As I take one last glance at the surroundings, tales of yesteryear are warmed up by the light of dusk.
Annals await amidst a dark and silent backdrop to once again see the light of the day.

No more "reading"

2005-12-15T10:40:00.000+05:00

Though it may be tearing me apart…I wouldn’t change the recent past for anything in the world.
Maybe I need to take off those “reading glasses”, so I stop reading too much into things and see it all with a fresh, new perspective, once again.

Crazy Cards, Crazier Games

2005-12-09T00:29:00.000+05:00

It's Strange how some days can make known facts dawn on you like epiphanies.
It's Stranger how life threatens to have an odd, incomplete feel at the thought of certain people removed from it, though it was going quite smoothly without their initial intrusion!
Strangest of all- entering a one way street, recognizing it, being willing to travel down it (strangely sadistic), being scared, vulnerable, heart racing not just from anticipation but fear…yet, somehow the smile on the lips is also reflected in the eyes, both pairs.

Those Spaces Between...

2005-11-27T12:14:00.000+05:00

Damn the Circadian rhythm and biological clock!
One day off, planned to sleep away the exhaustion and recover from the perpetual sleep deprivation and I am wide awake at the crack of dawn!
Haven’t blogged in ages… have a million things to write about but before doing that I must take care of certain unsettled issues, within and outside of me.
Meanwhile, came across an awesome song, the lyrics of which are STUCK in my head, making me think about all those unfilled spaces in between conversations; those silent conversations. The spaces between words…overwhelming because they hit so close to home…and heart.

The Space Between
Dave Matthews Band.

You cannot quit me so quickly
Is no hope in you for me
No corner you could squeeze me
But I got all the time for you, love
The Space Between
The tears we cry
Is the laughter keeps us coming back for more
The Space Between
The wicked lies we tell
And hope to keep us safe from the pain

But will I hold you again?
These fickle, fuddled words confuse me
Like 'Will it rain today?'
Waste the hours with talking, talking
These twisted games we play
We're strange allies
With warring hearts
What wild-eyed beast you be
The Space Between
The wicked lies we tell
And hope to keep us safe from the pain
Will I hold you again?
Will I hold...

Look at us spinning out in
The madness of a roller coaster
You know you went off like a devil
In a church in the middle of a crowded room
All we can do, my loveIs hope we don't take this ship down
The Space Between
Where you're smiling high
Is where you'll find me if I get tickled
The Space Between
The bullets in our firefight
Is where I'll be hiding, waiting for you
The rain that falls
Splash in your heart
Ran like sadness down the window into...
The Space Between
Our wicked lies
Is where we hope to keep safe from pain

Take my hand
'Cause we're walking out of here
Oh, right out of here
Love is all we need here
The Space Between
What's wrong and right
Is where you'll find me hiding, waiting for you
The Space Between
Your heart and mine
Is the space we'll fill with time
The Space Between...

When decisions had been made...

2005-10-29T15:01:00.000+05:00

When decisions had been made, then why am I not able to take any step in accordance to the made resolutions? Why have I not yet frozen over, why are things affecting me more than they should, why are the other (more dominant parts of me) dragging me once again into making the same mistakes? If I am aware of the perils of traveling down a one way street and I continue doing so, then why, oh why must I grieve upon reaching a pre-ordained dead end???

Why does the transparent face remain damn transparent and why does the happy grin not travel to the eyes? And why, why must you see everything so well? Why must you question even the slightest flicker of doubt in my eyes? Why must you see through every damn defense I put up? And WHY must it be this hard to bubble wrap my heart and employ less of it?

Did I not say, screw all the resolutions; I’m too nutty for them? Well, I’m sure not saying that anymore, wish I had stuck to them longer.

Why must your eyes still contain that which I don’t think I can stand seeing anymore? How can it be there? It defies all logic, yet when I see it there, it has this bizarre magnetism about it… damn you. Why must I see a lot more than I should in those eyes?

A certain amount of truth…which just can’t be there…a sincerity, that does not deserve to be there.

(I wrote this post some days back...damn computer, damn net connection, too many viruses....Im still writing in my head, there will be an influx of posts once the damn computer is fixed, dunno how the page opened up just now, but im glad it did)

(Beknighted: WHERE R U?? I know i promised and i am extremely sorry... but don't desert and give up on me this easily)

Decisions have been made.

2005-10-02T22:07:00.000+05:00

Decisions have been made. Action is yet to be taken.

I am going to be numb, even frozen (not just cold) if need arises.

I will not let things affect me more than they should (and I know exactly how much they ought to affect me if I use my head and not other more dominant components of me).

I will make an effort to make my face less transparent and not let it be a damn mirror of the way I feel.

I will not let the other more dominant components (mentioned above) drag me into making the same mistakes over and over again.

I will realize (hopefully one of these days) the consequences of traveling on a one way street, and recognize the perils it automatically puts me through, and if knowingly (-read stupidly) I do travel down it I will not grieve upon reaching a dead end.

I will do all of the above maintaining a positive outlook, optimistic approach, and a happy grin.

Most importantly, I will bubble-wrap my heart and try very, very hard to employ less of it.

can some Inspiration please knock here?!

2005-09-26T22:38:00.000+05:00

Things are fine, life is coming along well MASHALLAH. SomehowI am just nto inspired to write anything, I feel..I feel too much these days, I write, i slash it out, i think, just think...Alot.

If you are NOT reading...

2005-09-19T20:14:00.000+05:00

At times when things get too complicated, the most simplest of words can break through the mist of all the haziness, perplexity and ambiguity and shine through crystal clear and hit you right across the face and have a good laugh at you for not being able to recognize the pervasive truth as it is…simple, plain and evident. When you think you finally have it all figured out, all laid out into neat little compartments, all behavior justified, all reason warranted and while these epiphanies dawn on you these words are uttered, “Little do you know”.

And just the way these simple lines are rendered makes you wish all that you knew were obliterated and annihilated.

Precisely that would be the point where this desire manifests itself on your transparent face and extracts an unexpected, unfathomable answer, the depth of which none but the two conversing can understand and which leaves you dumbfounded and speechless. With only one thought left reverberating in your mind…

If you are NOT reading (into this), you MUST be blind.

Masti in the air!

2005-09-04T14:27:00.000+05:00

Hawwa mein masti hai!

Been in an absolutely wild, crazy mood past two days. Friend's Dholki last night helped turn the level of lunacy just a few more notches higher up!

Nothing compares to old friends getting together, singing, screaming, dancing and laughing... especially when you function as a ‘unit’. You can’t sing one song without a person, while you can’t dance to the other without another, and you certainly can’t sing all the ad jingles without all of them present, because each one contributes in a different way! What will happen about the screams, the clap sequence, the “la la la’s”, the well synchronized ‘dhol beat’ adapted to the personalized and flawlessly coordinated medley perfected owing to years of practice!

Accumulating good times, adding fresher memories to the eternally extraordinary ones.

Can’t get this damn song outta my head!!! My cheap mode is on, hence I will resort to writing the lyrics of this song…beat buhat awesome hai!
=)

“Ghustakh dil teray leeyay baytaab hai aaye jan-e-jaan
dard-e-jigar tujh say bayaan kaisay karay dil bayzubaan
Yeh Dilllllllllllllll……”

“aayee humnasheen yeh dil laggi ban jayay na aik din kaheen…
teray leeyay dil ki laggi.
Yeh Dillllllllllll……..”

( hmmmm…Come to think of it the lyrics aren’t bad at all!! Isn’t that what some of us are apprehensive about when getting into a relationship particularly if it is a relationship rising out of an already established platonic companionship… that the other might not feel the same way or that even if they do today, they might not for a very long time while one is way beyond the point of thinking about anything less than happily ever after! And that is a post for another day and another time…)

Harmonious Perplexity

2005-08-26T17:35:00.000+05:00

I am supposed to be designing stationery at this point in time for day after tomorrow’s submission and yet I sit here allowing my fingers to play havoc with the keyboard and the songs to cause perplexity in my already bewildered head.

…songs from very looooong ago.

“Naraz” , Vital Signs
“Chaley thay saath”, Junoon.
“yeh dhoop kinara” Faiz by NayyaraNoor
and ofcourse “Katay Naahi Raat Mori” Ustad Sultan Khan…

need to get back to work…argh

Ruckshaw Ramblings

2005-08-22T22:35:00.000+05:00

Spotted on the backside of a Rickshaw…

“Pyar kar key daikh, Pasand apni apni, Naseeb apna apna”

If loving someone is such a great feeling, if it makes you content in most ways, knowing there is someone you can spend the rest of your life with and not get bored…accepting that you can’t imagine yourself with anyone else then why does not “Naseeb” (fate) work out in ways that suit what the heart desires?
I know…I know…I believe in meant to be as well. God knows what He is doing… but still….

Why it does it have to hurt so much?

Conversing Hugs, Sad Goodbyes…

2005-08-21T00:15:00.000+05:00

What do you do when your eyes meet his and you ecstatically greet him with an enormous grin on your face and he doesn’t respond? Instead, he just walks up to you and hugs you like there is no tomorrow. Like his life depends on how long and hard he can hold on to you for. When you look into his eyes you see an ambiguous blend of confusion, and anticipation, fear, and hope and a discharge that has wet your shoulder and is reflected in your eye and you realize things that you could never have realized without his help. Suddenly you are filled with a sense of gratitude like never before and obvious realities dawn on you like epiphanies.

He was waiting for me at my residence while I scuttled from college to quickly pick up something for him on my way home. And soon after our intimate salutation he followed me upstairs to my room and sat himself down on my bed while I executed my structured routine of everyday trivialities. I started talking about general things, carefully avoiding any mention of why he was there on that particular day. But being the blunt person he is, he cut to the chase and just said “I’m really scared”. And that was the minute I just shut up and took him in my arms. It was my turn to hug him like there was no tomorrow. If hugs could talk mine would have said, I know you are scared, so am I… I know this might be it and it scares the life out of me, I know that there are things worse than the actual eventuality of us all and that scares me even more. There was too much to say, that I hardly said anything, instead I handed him the tiny token I got for him. Some chocolates and a T-shirt, the kind he liked. We talked some, then hugged some, talked more and hugged more and eventually joined everyone for lunch downstairs. Laughed a lot, entertained each other and then he left. I went to see him off at night and the hugging session started once again and our last hug lasted for about 5 minutes and then his parents told him to let go off me so I could breathe. And finally he just stood there in the black “Karachi Daku” shirt, that he had loved the instant his eyes fell on it that afternoon. We both waved.

Our paths crossed, inter-twined and fate made a decision that it would bind us together in a nameless bond for infinity. I call him my friend, the dear 12 year old boy who came into my life 5 years ago. And this is no ordinary boy; he has a maturity far surpassing those much older to him, a sensitive heart and an immeasurable ability to love. There is hardly a stain on his pure heart that has felt far much than it should have, that has endured a lot more than any child’s due share and that still beats contentedly with hope and optimism. He is certainly a “man” of qualities. So when he left for Singapore once again that night a million prayers were with him, and I hope yours will be too. For my little friend suffers from something no one would want for even their worst enemy …the worst kind of an incurable and malignant Brain Tumor.

Posters and Taglines...

2005-08-16T21:00:00.000+05:00

Functioning on 3 hrs of sleep once again now that school's reopened...can hardly muster up the himmat to write....sentences keep floating in my head all day, and yet I can't gather up the patience, the effort, to make it a cohesive whole.
Thinking, thinking, thinking...once again.
too much to say, will write soon...very soon hopefully (or this kichri in my head will continue to come out in the form of crazy, exposed taglines such as "My Soul Lies Bared for You... Embrace it." heheheheh.)
Soon, then.

P.S: btw, incase you are wondering...tagline was for a promotional poster for karachi ;)

Too great a Risk

2005-08-10T22:42:00.000+05:00

Pl understand that it was too great a Risk...much too great.
Awkward, unnerving, painfuly vulnerable threat.
I didnt know what the reaction would be...
Would've been worse if there were no reaction at all.
I honestly DON"T wanna know...abhi.

Let the future unfold naturally....you WILL know.
I'll make sure you are aware, Inshallah...
kabhi na kabhi.

Someone Hates Me Today…

2005-08-10T18:44:00.000+05:00

WHY (?????????!!!!!) did I ever make a Blog in the first place…(ALL u ppl out there who recommended me to.....HIDE TODAY!) and Why... God ....why am I so stupid…stupid….Soooooo STUPID??!!!

Someone hates me today….
I don’t know if that someone has ever hated me so much before today, but today I think I managed to break the record.
Even if he is not interested in what I have to say now, I owe him this much.
(not for anyone’s consumption but yours…incase u decide to actually land up here) But since you said you are not interested in knowing a thing, you probably won’t, and you never will if you are too pissed, and I’ll be rambling on for nothing at all, which honestly in this case is JUST fine, but just INCASE you do…

I am extremely sorry and I mean it. But when I said I don’t want you to know I seriously meant it, I wasn’t just saying it for the sake of withholding stuff from you, or playing stupid games. You matter a lot and I would never do that to you. I just couldn’t bear to think that someone who knew me would read it. And more so if that someone was you.

You want to know why…
I can’t bear to think what might’ve happened If you had read it, or even if you do now, I
I can’t bear to think that you might not have taken it seriously enough, or said something I wouldn’t have been able to live with, or done something beyond my comprehension, like laugh. If you laugh, I won’t cry…I’ll just freeze and add another layer to the numbness.

I have tried everything possible that I knew (and ppl whom I asked) to move this blog, HOW the hell do u do that?? Maybe I didn’t try hard enough but then, what is meant to be will be. I won’t delete it. But if someone can tell me how to move it, id be grateful.

Bhula Naheen Paatay

2005-08-07T23:59:00.000+05:00

Churned out another piece of crappy Urdu poetry. Based on pretty much the same theme as the rest, might be read as a continuation of or sequel to the others. It may sound redundant to those who are familiar with the previous ones (particularly “Bhula Na Payeingay”), I apologize, but I really wrote this more for getting it out of my system rather than pleasurable spectatorship.

Hmmm, I once mentioned that I should stop writing crap because sooner or later it all comes true….someone please shake some sense into me and remind me of that very notion every now and then. I hardly want this dismal, depressing piece of poetry to become the sardonic reality that it predictably can be seen fathoming into.

Bhula Naheen Paatay

Abb chahatay hain woh sabh bhool jayain
Tumhari koi yaad aanay par ansoon na ayain

Yaad naheen rakh sakkay jo hum ko
Hum kyon naheen bhula paatay unn ko

Ansoon ban kar jab har yaad beh jaati hai
Aur koi beeti baat saamnay aati hai

Jab umeed ki har kiran dhal jaati hai
phir aik nae surat nazar aati hai

Dinn bhar aankhoon mein rehtay hain
Raat aankh say ansoon behtay hain

Gaya waqt jab faaslay naa thay darmeeya
Aaj pass ho kay hain kiss qadr durriyaan

Yaadoon say kabhi durr naheen jaatay
Hum chah kay bhi unn ko bhula naheen paatay

still around

2005-08-07T03:35:00.000+05:00

I certainly have not disappeared Beknighted...
I come here almost everyday open upothis particular window and start typing, bythe time im done with 5 words, I feel sick and shut down everythng except the music.
something is awfully wrong, I dont feel like myself.

I dont know, forthe first time in my life hwo to get this outta me, I can generally write and vent about absolutely anything on the face of this earth that affects me.

Somehow I dont have and wont even try to find the words this time.

I cnat help but feel im being sucked back in... and I cnat help but be all positive and hopeful one minute and all sulky and skeptical about the futur, the next....

God is up there...He will figure something out which is best for us. So what if that turns out to be the thing that I have dreaded.

There is nothing that I or anyone else can say to make things better, I am learning to accept life as it is....and have left it on 'auto'

God, save me from crashing.

Qissay Kuch Puranay...

2005-07-27T00:39:00.000+05:00

hmmmm....nothing creative or worth reading pops outta me these days...

Honestly, I am generally a happy (ThankYou GOD!) person, and positive too... But being such in no way thwarts my passion for sad songs...and of recent I have been mentioning loads of them in my posts...just didn’t want people reading my blog to get weird ideas regarding serious depression, psychotherapy, and the likes thereof! =) I’m perfectly fine thank u, dealing with life as it comes. My music preferences depend obviously wholly on my mood, but I generally lean more towards songs with better lyrics rather than a great beat /melody (dholkis/ dance music is another case altogether). And yes, it is kind of like my sanatorium, where I don’t need to be positive all the time and find the silver lining…but allow myself to succumb to the obscure forces of the fissure that allows in all that is melancholy, hope, regret, sadness and insignificance even if it is for just an inconsequential stint. As strange as it may sound it helps me keep it out of me the rest of the time, and keeps me sane and in high spirits the rest of the time!

I’m listening to this right now.

Yaad hai…
Woh pehli mulaaqatein yaad hai

Yaad hai, mujhay…
teri har aik baat yaad hai…

woh mehki raatein…
saari sooghatein…

Bhegi meri aankhon say…
Ansoon beh chukkay

Qissay kuch puranay mil gayay..
Rownay kay bahanay mil gayay

Qissay Kuch Puranay Mil Gayay…

"Welcome back" said the Sandstorm!

2005-07-26T00:41:00.000+05:00

hmm..i wanted to write...cant abhi.
will as soon as i can.
Today college reopened after summer.
I smell a post regarding sea, karachi...hmmm college....hmmm or something like that
=)

I owe sum reply to comments im sure,since i can see new ones, I cant read them abhi...life in jet mode once again.

hum bhool gayay ray...

2005-07-24T16:21:00.000+05:00

Hum bhool gayay ray har baat
Magar tera pyar naheen bhoolay

kya kya howa dil kay saath
magar tera pyar naheen bhoolay

hum bhool gayay ray har baat
magar tera pyar naheen bhoolay.

It's just a song, nice song.

Humaray Raastay (Yaadein)

2005-07-20T23:53:00.000+05:00

Like I said before, I have tried my hand at Urdu poetry very few times. I am hardly ever satisfied with what I write, but more so with such poetry because I feel like its a pseudo voice, it doesn’t sound like my own. However, often when I read it after sometime it generates a decent amount of laughter. And at times that is exactly what is needed. Just the right amount of dry humor and an ability to laugh at your own self can at times turn moments that were excruciatingly painful and taxing into something that can be said to have made you stronger and allow you to smile, even laugh at times on the nonsensicality of your own efforts and writing ability. It may sound twisted, but even the sad smile it squeezes out of you is worth it. =) .

Wrote this in 1999. Reading it now made me realize that was the time I had been listening to too much of Jagjit Singh and stuff like “Tum Yaad Aayay”. I distinctly remember the last line “shaid kabhi, shaid kaheen” bit being taken from one of Javed Akhtar’s monologues before a song in the same album. However, fits life as I know it today. Personally, I like the other one better;
“Bhula Na Payein Gay” http://expressome.blogspot.com/2005/05/bhula-na-payaingay.html

But here goes;

Yaad tu kabhi aati he hogi
Humari tarhaan unhain bhi satati hogi

Kya howa agar har rishta toot gaya…
Koi waqt naheen kay daman choot gaya

Humari yaadein kabhi kabhi…
Unn ko satati he hoon gi

Guzrtay loggon mein shaid hum ko bhi…
Aankh uttha kar dhoondtay hoon kabhi.

Sabh kehtay hain bhool jao who din…
Hum sochtay hain woh aayain gay he,

Jo vaaday kiyay thay woh nibhain gay…
Phir kabhi na taur kay jayain gay

Hum nay tu aik rishta jorra unn say…
Unhoon nay har naata tora hum say

Yeh waqt bhi shaid guzar he jayay ga…
Magar darr hai apnay nishan choor jayay ga

Shaid Kabhi…Shaid Kaheen…
Humaray Raastay Phir Milain Gay He…

Kehnay lagga, jo ho so ho.

2005-07-14T00:46:00.000+05:00

The first time I have tuned in to a local radio channel in my room, that too at midnight.

And this is what I hear....Abida Parveen. damn it.
You adore her songs.

I cant help but think about how amazing your own voice is, and how many apprehensions you have regarding it.

You are a natural.

You sing like you talk, but you are never ready to believe it.

Been ages since u "carelessly strummed" your guitar and sang.

Sing, once again...sing about belief. sing like no ones listening. sing once again like it's "just" me listening and you are slightly insecure about your voice, the rhythm and the bass, and how you cant carry the tune, while I reassure you its better than the person who sung it in the first place.

Damn it, why couldn't We, or atleast I, see where this was heading. My friend, you mean a hell of a lot more than you should.

Damn it.....(WHAT Crap ?!!! it wasnt worth reading anyway. ).......

Please dont say I imagined it all, please don't rob me of this absolute perfect memory I have of what was once reality to me.

The knot is back there in the throat, right in the center...where it hurts the most.

Foolish Games, Thoughtless Words

2005-07-13T12:59:00.000+05:00

A friend read out the lyrics of this song to me. I instantly fell in love with it. Stinging, painful,heart retching, just because they hit the exact mark, down to the details of the specific art period. It's ok if you don't know what Im talking about. Just enjoy it for what it is, leave the painful bit for me.

Foolish Games
You took your coat off and stood in the rain
You were always crazy like that
I watched from my window
Always felt I was outside looking in on you
You were always the mysterious one with dark eyes and careless hair
You were fashionably sensitive, but too cool to care
Then you stood in my doorway, with nothing to say
Besides some comment on the weather
Well in case you failed to notice, in case you failed to see
This is my heart bleeding before you, this is me down on my knees
These foolish games are tearing me apart
Your thoughtless words are breaking my heart
You're breaking my heart
You were always brilliant in morning
Smoking your cigarettes and talking over coffee
Your philosophies on art, Baroque moved you
You loved Mozart and you'd speak of your loved ones
As I clumsily strummed my guitar
You'd teach me of honest things
Things that were daring, things that were clean
Things that knew what an honest dollar did mean
So I hid my soiled hands behind my back
Somewhere along the line I must've gone off track with you
Excuse me, think I've mistaken you for somebody else
Somebody who gave a damn, somebody more like myself
These foolish games are tearing me apart
You're tearing me, tearing me, tearing me apart
Your thoughtless words are breaking my heart
You're breaking my heart
You took off your coat and stood in the rain
You were always crazy like that

Lyrics and song by Jewel
Album: Pieces of You

Bridge it...

2005-07-13T01:47:00.000+05:00

I just read an article in SkyLife magazine about bridges. Flipping, tossing, and turning in my head are so many ponderings that they can’t help but get tangled and jumbled up with each other. I know I am going to churn out a very lame and bullshit post right now, but I really need to get this out.
I’ll start by quoting a passage from the article :
“ Bridges join two opposite shores. Some are suspended from steel cables, others are built of concrete, some are built of branches tied together, others no more than a tree trunk spanning the water. Some are called “suspension bridges”, others “stone bridges”. But whatever it is made up of, a bridge always signifies a coming together.”
( Akgun Akova. “Reaching the Other Side”)

It is said that bridges signify a coming together, a joining of two opposite shores. So when we say “I am trying to bridge the distance” what we actually mean is that I am attempting to forgo whatever it was that was adding to the river of grudges flowing with full force, overlooking the hurt and pain factor and trying with a clear conscience and a clean heart to build something over it that will help cross troubled waters and will be sturdy enough to withstand all that it may need to. Its not an easy task, building a bridge takes a lot and not just in the physical sense but in all senses of abstraction. The stronger it is to be made the stronger the effort required to make it. You put in all you’ve got, you work so hard it hurts and then someone just casually comes around and says “........”
And that is when you break. But then you try to knock some sense into their head and you tell them that if a standing bridge collapses, and when you rebuild another to replace it you are aware of where the water runs deep and dark and may end up flowing once again over the bridge and ruining it so you build it with better awareness and understanding of the calamities that might afflict it. You build it stronger than before, making sure you work extra hard on the foundation so that it can withstand anything and everything.
Yes indeed, bridges are meant to connect, to bring together and join two opposite shores.

Away...

2005-07-01T20:19:00.000+05:00

Away for sometime but missed routine so I needed to check this place out. I owe alot of replies and Thankyous to many, will get to them as soon as I can.
Meanwhile; Thank u tree elf for the help dont get to log on tehse days but will try out your set of instructions thank u very much for the detailed help.
chiquita yes I agree....there is a way out
trying to find just teh right one the one that causes the least bit of harm.
damn im trying to figure out where the damn punctuation marks are on this godforsaken keyboard always hated tehse foreign things too used to my own.
no commas! hahah surprising for me...huh?!
Beknighted I owe u a detailed reply.
just for the record...only cuz its bothering me more than it shud...i need to say it...dont have an ex. yes i no ulll be saying the woman is crazy but i seriously dont. trust me teh details will interest u the most so i will get down to them sooon enough.......
this is hardly a post but just needed to communicate with this world...the world of fellow bloggers...withdrawl symptoms thay damn it equal to sign naheen ban raha.....trying soo damn hard! ok i meant to put a smiley back there.... heres half of it. (99 WAT THE HELL HAVE I DONE...ab bracket bhi naheen ban raha!
= ) YAY got both!!!!!!!!!!!
=) hahahhahahah

2005-06-21T17:10:00.000+05:00

Someone please tell mehow to link other bloggers on my site....tried reading the help and stuff...
not WORKING!

will get back to blogging tomm morning!

2005-06-20T23:30:00.000+05:00

Need to put up the post that no one read one again...I dont know why I dont give up when it comes to such things....yes the power supply went out while it was being published and yes I ALWAYS compose in word, except when I am using someone else damn laptop that aaaaaaaaaaaaaagrrrrrrrrrhhhhhh frustrates the life outta me.
This sad, sad story will be continued tomm morning, when I will add the post initially titled "lahore, laptops amd 45 degrees"

I also posted a comment on the "what is this place coming to" which obvioulsy never got posted either... so I will get back to replying to everybody once again, as soon as I can.

Tomm morning.

PS: I bought "Where they dream in Blue"! =)

Its good to be back, to breathe this air...and live in...and love this city.

Somethings "missing"...

2005-06-20T21:39:00.000+05:00

Today I read the jist of what I said to you.
If that doesn’t make sense to you, if you still don’t get it...you never will.
And I am not going to expect you to understand this anymore than you can understand how much your presence is missed. You tell me you are still 'around, present, there". Its not the same "around, present, there" it used to be. It just isn’t.
Don’t convince me about something that isn’t, and the something that you don’t give a damn about and the something you are too complacent to give two hoots about. Damn it, when you are outta my life, can you please get out of my head?
And while you are at it can you please take along that venomous sting that transforms into a jab of stabbing, razor sharp pain and eventually settles into a numbingly dull, constant ache every time I think of you.

....."...Because no matter how occupied I become with mundane existence...."."......Beneath it all, buried under the dust and grime and smog and toxic waste of every day life, I miss you. "...."I miss being able to just be myself with you. Being vulnerable, being breakable. Being imperfect and careless and rude and angry and passionate..." .......

Damn.

I Miss You.

A lot.

(The aforementioned in inverted commas is an excerpt from Beknighted's post titled "Total AAARGH Moment".)

What is this place coming to

2005-06-05T10:33:00.000+05:00

No, seriously....What isthis place coming to?!
I read thinsg here and there and Im just SHOCKED!!!
This si nto teh Pakistan I knew 4 years back....progression is good, when made in the right direction.
Where the hell are we heading....I read random blogs and I am just SHOCKED!
Im sorry....if you think I am backward, or stupid or dumb or WATEVER!!!
We have lost not just our values and principles but also our conscience. Do we no longer know what is right and wrong..?!
And dont even get me started on what is right and wrong, you can decide foryourself....
from whee I see it...PREMARITAL SEX is wrong. So are physical relationships taht you have no intent of legalizing, and so are a million things the 'youth' of our nation is indulging in.
Did I grow up in a different time zone altogether?!
I completed college in 2001, for God's sake its just been 4 years! Did Paksitan morph into something while I was away?! Yes, it all existed at that time but it was still considered bad. Nothing, and I do mena nothing is eyebrow raisingmaterial anymore....its all ok....sabh "chill hai"
ABEY KYA CHILL HAI?!!! ( I am waaaaaaaaaaayyyy too hyped to make any sense right now...I cant even form a complete decent sentence in my head abhi. aaarggghhh)
Where are we heading?!
What is this place coming to?!

So What?!

2005-06-05T01:20:00.000+05:00

Yes, yet again a rerealization!
Life is WAAAAAAAAAAAAayyyyyyyyyy toooooooo short....I don’t even know if I have another year or less here, and then again we just live once right?!
Why should I continue living in the past? Yes it did mean a lot, ALOT! But that doesn’t mean I am going to stop living because certain things are still not either black or white. They are always a shade of grey, but SO WHAT?!
You tell me that knowing where I don’t stand with you is what bothers me....Yes u r absolutely right, it does bother me, cuz I don’t see a sense in these dumb games, I just don’t. If someone matters a lot then let them know, then make sure that they will stick around, then don’t bluddy well be complacent if they are distancing them self for whatever reason. Be proactive, act live u give a damn, and get off your complacent ass and DO SOMETHINg dammit!
But anyway, that frustrated fury is for another time. Today, I’m just happy that we shared whatever it was that we did in the past, so what if things turned out differently, unlike what either of us wanted. Neither of us know what happened, and even if we both wanted at different times, to reverse time and make things right, at this point, neither of us can or at least are not even attempting to do something about it.
But today I am just glad that the past happened. Not the distancing part, but yes that was essential too.
But SO WHAT?! If you don’t feel the same way I do about you. I can’t make you change you the feel about me now. I cant help but feel defeated at times, but then again, neither one of us can be blamed for this. I know how I feel, I also know that you don’t feel the same way anymore. If your attention and your attempts have moved else where, I should be okay with it, cuz honestly I do know feelings, relationships etc cant always be mutual. Or at least mutually equivalent.
It is ok.
In spite of knowing everything, I can’t change the way I feel about you. Regardless of the fact that things are very one sided today, I still continue to put in an effort, cruel joke this is, when you did I didn’t, when I do, you don’t. ha.
Even though I know there might be no point to all this, cuz I will probably not want the same conclusion and outcome as you, I value “permanency” and exclusivity for life. We differ in alotta things, yet I’m not going to ask you to change.

I’m not going to let rationality bring me down today, I did something spontaneous, something irrational, something that I know you might still be thinking about, or may have forgotten the same minute, I don’t know. In spite of knowing that its all gone, its been lost, I carry on…and smile to myself when think about you and certain past instances, In spite of knowing hurt is headed my way sooner or later…So WHAT?!

You are worth it.

Memories will last...

2005-06-03T11:09:00.000+05:00

I seriously NEED to STOP writing crappy poetry, that I dont know why I am writing but still continue to do so without it being of any relevance to my life at the point I am writing it. It is seriously hazardous! Because sooner or later it all comes true.

I don't know why I wrote it when it had absolutely no significance in the first place. I wrote this in 2003, and suddenly it is wholly apt.

I'm often appaled at your ability to say profoundly deep things,
without even a hint of genuineness in your actions.

I wish one day I'll know what went wrong,
the days I've waited have been endlessly long.

We've each had our share of unjustifiable pain,
I tried to convince myself otherwise but things may never be the same.

I hope I have never been the one who broke your heart,
Never wronged you in any way whether we were close or apart.

So many smiles, countless tears too,
times spent together and far apart from you.

I know you had an exclusive place in my heart,
I mean it to this day, but just don't know where to start.

Soon it will be time to say 'goodbye'
unexplainable memories still make me sigh

We share a history, a heartwarming past.
Our reltionship may never, but these memories will last.

May 2003.

utterly at a loss for sense

2005-06-03T10:41:00.000+05:00

I have hardly felt like this more than a few times in my life. It's this feeling of being completely at a loss of words ,though they continue to spin around in your head all day long. I sit expressionless and try to process my thoughts, failure to do so results in me typing away mindlessly. I don't know what to do or how to go about doing what I want to. I dont know even if I want to do anything at this point.
I can't stop thinking about the past, I cant HELP but think about it. Im not going to act all heartbroken and shit, because I am not! I am just hurt and confused, and it is very human to feel this way. U blame me for what, I ask? I blame you, for what, you ask? then why can't this painful period of not knowing and blaming each other be over?
I think priorities might have changedm, infact I know that they have.
IF you really do give a damn, stop sitting complacent on your butt, and get up and do something about it dammit!

I can't write anything good, I have a headache, people who read this blog will think I have comepletely lost my mind.But honestly, I cant make sense today, aaj naheen, kabhi aur sahi.

Quoting Jewel:

" Sometimes
I feel my heart fall
to vague depths
between words.
There are such spaces,
that I can't help but feel
My heart fall,
between
the pregnant pause
of all you will not say
and all
I can not ask."

the simple excitement of a new CD!

2005-05-29T10:16:00.000+05:00

The simple excitement of a new CD can be a great high!! =)
actually its discovering old songs that are new to u....did that make sense?
see some1 got me this twin pack of Nayyara Noor songs..
one is NAyyara Noor sings Faiz...(WOW,WOW,WOW!) which i already had but then....who cna complain....LUV ALL THE SONGS!
The other is Best of Nayyara Noor....and I'm discovering some wonderful songs that I hadn't heard before...!
wow, wow, wow!

Seaview followed by chai aur paratha…umm…dual Karachi ka mazaa!

2005-05-28T19:39:00.000+05:00

Sunday morning sunshine has a very foreboding quality to it especially at an hour when one should be nestled snuggly between bed and blanket. I sit here displaced yet content after a one and a half hour photography session that started off at 6:30 am at the Karachi Sea View. They say if you truly want to experience the essence of a place, sit where there is culture, where you can hear the common man’s lingua and you will taste all that the place has to offer. So I like coming here every once in a while, a place not included among those that the social circles I belong to frequent often. A place that acts like a reality check for me when I get too caught up in the dynamics and glitz of the intimate and excluding circles I am part of in this currently not-so-westernized-neither-truly-ethnic-confused-state-of existence, in this metropolitan that is Karachi. I come here not to be among the “artsy fartsy” who are rumored to frequent places like such in order to prove a point to the individuals devoid of the higher understanding of artistic sensitivity. However, I don’t even agree o that notion, but that is a discussion for another time and place. I frequent it to actually observe life from a different view point for at least some moments of the day, to look at things as they exist outside my limiting circles, to fine tune into the diverse variety of all that this city has to offer.

One street across from my college, an unassuming sort of a place nestled between a well recognized food chain and several other roadside type restaurants is my favorite place for a relaxing cup of tea, a “dhaba” by the name of “Quetta Hotel”. A place where some of my classmates and I became regulars during play rehearsals in the month of Ramadan at iftaar. Coming back to where I started from, I sit here exhausted after a morning of clicking away in all sorts of odd and painful positions to get good shots, my stomach growls at having to go empty since last nights meal and working overtime. This place not just offers absolutely delicious food but engages each of the senses in such a manner that it becomes an experience for any keen observer. The smell of Karachi, intimately known and recognized by people living in the city for sometime surrounds you, a salt watery warm kind of welcoming fragrance, this morning mixed with the aroma of ‘daal’ frying in oil, parathas being made on a flat round metal pan blackened with years of usage, and in a silver pan the handle of which is plastic and wrapped around with a cloth in order to avoid burns, tea simmers, the aroma of which is a tell-tale of its sweet flavor. Usually Sunday mornings are relatively quieter than the weekdays and the only hustle bustle is that of shop vendors and workers at the dhaba. As I approach the dhaba, the young boy who works here brings out a chair from inside for me and keeps it at the only table placed outside. The only customers besides me are 3 men, who sit at tables inside the ‘restaurant’ alternating between watching television, reading the paper, and conversing. I sit with both legs folded on top of the plastic chair, for it is too early an hour for anyone to judge the impropriety of the position of this displaced young lady. My camera bag rests on the chipped, age worn table with metal legs and traces of a Formica top. All the cooking being done outside in the open air in front of me, temptingly indulges my sense of smell, and makes the growling of my stomach grow louder by the minute. The big-built, bearded, sweet faced man who is the owner of this joint, swivels the paratha that I asked for, with one finger on the black skillet, to make sure it browns evenly, emitting a ‘whoosh, sizzle’ sound every now and then.. While the cup of tea I patiently await for is being monitored by one of his helping hands, being poured from a metal cup consistently back into the pan its brewing in, guaranteeing as perfectly brewed a cup as possible.

As I get distracted by the men raising the metal shutters of the street shops my long awaited tea arrives in a small ceramic cup one corner of which is slightly chipped and the once off-white color now an almost dirty brown from the tea seeping into the crevices, the cream on it rising well above the rim. I take a whiff of it and the flavor promises of a delectably sweet treat. The owner himself then brings over the paratha in a white plastic plate, I thank him and receive a gracious smile in return. I break off a piece of the bread in front of me and dip it into the chai, an absolute treat! The perfect balance between crispy and soft layers that only an expert ‘paratha maker’ can achieve. I let the warmth of the cup seep into my hands and then slowly raise it to my lips to take a sip of the chai and savor the rich, thick, creamy, hot liquid on my tongue before gulping it down, enjoying every penny of the 8 rupees it is well-worth. Enjoying both to their absolute limit and having been refreshed by the entire experience I pay the man and gather my belongings, and head back towards the tiny circle of my life as I know it.

Gratefully satisfied by the frivolous engagement of each and every one of my senses and being pleased with the re-realization of the dualty that exists in Karachi, of the vast experiences one can be a part of here and for knowing it intimately enough to call my own.

dil uttar gaya hai...

2005-05-27T01:08:00.000+05:00

I said "Too soon it might be too late", i think that too soon has arrived. It is a lil too late.

I cant help but feel this way. And its a different feeling, a very different feeling. I cant tell u exactly what it is, I haven’t completely discovered it myself. But I can tell you what it’s NOT like. It’s not like the time when you argue or fight with a best friend, not like when you are so mad you swear to yourself that your are not going to give in this time. Not even like the times when you promise yourself that you are going to act completely cool, and not bothered at all, or going to ignore the other one till they come to their senses, not even like trying to have a rehearsal of a conversation in your head, or confrontation. Not even like the feeling of giving up or being sad over uncontrollable issues. Not even the blood red, angst, or raging fury of frustration.
It’s very different from that. VERY.
Everything replaced with a steady, unblinking, dry eyed gaze, and an equally non communicative, distant, not happy-but-not-dejected-either, non expressive, i-still-care-but-im-NOT-going-to-doanything-about-it-cuz-i-no-it’s-not-worth-it, U-are-not-worth-it, SMILE.

I think,
Dil uttar gaya hai…

I dont think I have to...

2005-05-26T22:15:00.000+05:00

30th Jan 2005:
I dont think I have to know you completely to know how I feel about you.

31st Jan 2005:
I KNOW that i DONT need to know you completely to understand how i Feelabout you, BECUZ I KNOW how I feel about you.

Today:
Is it dumb being knowingly blind? yes,obviously. When today I know u so well, well enough to say I know alot about u, i obviously know even the tiny little shortcomings, the BIg hitches...almost everything, then y am i being knowingly blind and stupidly naive? theres WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAy tooo much involved now to back out completely unharmed, but atleast bacing out now makes a lot more sense then being completely crushed and then realizing everything once again.

i luv this song..."one" by U2.

"........Did I disappoint you?Or leave a bad taste in your mouth?
You act like you never had love
And you want me to go withoutWell it'sToo lateTonight
To drag the past out into the light
We're one, but we're not the same
We get to
Carry each other
Carry each otherDid I ask too much?
More than a lot.
You gave me nothing,
Now it's all I got
We're one
But we're not the same
Well weHurt each other
Then we do it again
You sayLove is a temple
Love a higher law
Love is a temple
Love the higher law
You ask me to enter
But then you make me crawl
And I can't be holding on
To what you got
When all you got is hurt”

I know Avoidance when I see it. I recognize Denial when I see it.

Silent Waters

2005-05-24T19:34:00.000+05:00

At times complete strangers can be the ones who offer the best solace. Thank God for all the random people out there, placed all along my way so things may become easier and less burdensome…at least for some hours of the day.

And then we go back again to *thinking…and *thinking and *thinking, and well everything comes toppling down again.

The saying goes, “Silent waters run deep” or is it “still waters run deep”? I can never get it right…
One sentence can mean a lot.
One word can mean a lot.

So, at times when people say what they say, some read into what they say, willingly or non willingly, it’s just something they do.
It’s involuntary.

(Ps: i just realized that I have put up a very very random,disjointed and almost inchoerent post, if that statement helps u doubt my sanity a little less....good! if not...i wont hold it against u! =)

just a lil something to think about

2005-05-19T00:34:00.000+05:00

Today someone said something to me....that made me think* think*and think*...
U say everything that you ever want, is taken away from you...
so do u stop *wanting* everything, stop desiring anything,stop aspiring towards something?!
I dont get it.
I'm sorry i just dont get it...
i wish i did. I really do...I wish i could make u understand, make you see things a lil differently....just slightly change your viewpoint.
I read a poem by Faiz today, it called Meray Humdam, meray dost

a little excerpt from it…

Gar mujhe is ka yaeen ho mairay hamdam, mairay dost,
Gar mujhe is ka yaqeen ho tere dil ki thakan,
Teri ankhonki udasi, tere senay ki jalan,
Mairi dil joi, mairay pyar say mit jayaygi
Gar mairay harf-e-tassali voh dava hojiss say
Je uthay phir tera ujra hua bay noor damagh
Teri peshani saydhul jayain yeh tazleel kay daagh
Teri bemar jawani ko shifa hojayay
Gar mujhay iss ka yaqeen homairay hamdam, mairay dost
Rooz-o-shab, sham-o-sahar main tujhay behlata rahoon.

-----
-----
-----------
(another 3 stanzas….ends like this)

Tairay Aazar ka charah naheen nishtar kay siwa
Aur yeh saffak masiha mairay qabzay mein naheen
Iss jahan kay kisi zi-rooh kay qabze mein naheen
Han magar tere siwa, tairay swa, teray sewa…

fresh, new, cleancutlook!

2005-05-17T00:23:00.000+05:00

I have realized that when things get too complicated and you are willing to simplify them, atleast to some extent, you need to step back, relax, breathe in, calm down, breathe out and then look at things anew. With a new,fresh, cleancut,shaved, waxed, watever be it...view. Encrypted post, I know. Just trying to say that maybe that is what the doctor ordered, the need of the occassion, the demand of the situation. A new perspective, a refreshed outlook.

Thank you God, for these tiny moments of realizations, thankfulness and wisdom.

And Thank You for keeping joy in the simplest of things known to us humans as mundane realities of existence.

PS: If i sound completely deranged...it is probably because I wrote 3 THREE, stupid 1000 word essays!!! Since when have I started procrastinating?!God alone knows, it slowly and sneakily crept up this time! =) Glad that its over. Still more to do though....sketch pad, here I come...yay..*yawn*.

lyrical lecture

2005-05-14T20:05:00.000+05:00

I wrote this absentmindedly during a lecture I was supposed to be listening to(!!), in February 2005.

I think I’ve been stupid…They may say I’m blind
When you tell me something and I believe you,
I know I’m outta my mind

Looking back…realizing things now
Leaves me full of regret about the way I felt…
Really wanna forget you but don’t know how.

You know how to manipulate…
You know how to get to me…
It’s sad I know all the things,
But the bad in you I still don’t see

It’s not important how I feel…
Cuz you couldn’t really care less…
I’m killing myself…I’m an emotional mess
To you I’m not real.

(I sing to myself…I sing “My Favorite Mistake”…
Cuz that’s what you have come to be…
A mistake I make again and again)

Lie to me...

2005-05-12T19:30:00.000+05:00

I spent a major part of last week thinking about lying and lairs....hahhahaha if you think ive lost it , wait till u read the rest of this post. I am beyond thinking about why we lie...motivations, inclination, tendency, proclivity etc etc. I really don't care about any. I reached a very simple conclusion. When someone lies, they doubt your intelligence, they actually question it...
When someone lies to you,they do it with the intention of you believing it and taking it as the truth, right? So when they doubt you intelligence, they question your ability to put two and two together, to use your brain and logic and realize that you are being dishonest. And then they blame you for doubting them! ha! They blame you for doubting them after they give you reason to doubt them, every single time you want to believe them with all your heart. Ironic? This is not about lying and lairs, its not about doubting and trust, and it is so not about intelligence and stupidity, about beliveing and wanting to believe, about generalizations...It's about (TEXT DELETED)

There is a song that I place in the "begginglypatheticallydesperate" category....Though it doesnt stop me from liking it. based completely on generalized liking of teh song...and has NOTHING to do with this post...but that where i got the title from...thought I'd mention it.
Here it goes;
"God, I feel like hell tonight
Tears of rage I cannot fightI'd be the last to help you understand
Are you strong enough to be my man?
Nothing's true and nothing's right
So let me be alone tonight
Cause you can't change the way I am
Are you strong enough to be my man?
Lie to me ...
I promise I'll believe
Lie to me...
But please don't leave."

-Sheryl Crow.

Bhula na payaingay...

2005-05-08T16:36:00.000+05:00

Something I wrote years ago, when i probbaly did not even understand the meaning of it completely...had been reading a lot of urdu poetry in those days, thought i'd give it a shot. This couldn't have been more apt for me and my life where it stands today...who knew?! To me it still sounds like a dumb piece of 'wannabe urdu poetry".....i still want to put it up. Here goes;

Hum unhain kaisay samjhatay
kya woh kabhi samhaj bhi paatay?

Lafz miltay hi kahan kay kuch kehtay
Miltay bhi tu shaid chup he rehtay

Bhulain kaisay woh sabh haqeeqatein,
Jab bhula na sakay kuch unkahi baatein

Gaya kahan waqt jo ban gayee hain yaadein,
Yoon he din guzartay hain aur kat ti hain raatein,

Lay aayee hai aaisee jagah zindagihum ko,
Chah kay bhi bhula na payain gay hum tum ko.

Mirrored Voice

2005-05-07T14:30:00.000+05:00

I attended a presentation today related to advertising and its future. The actual content of the presentation was informative and interesting to a certain extent but what I really seemed to get a kick out of was the similarity of the lecturer’s and my beliefs when it came to life, being successful and finding happiness. The “kick” was because I had talked about the very same things in almost the same words just a few days back and it seemed like he was just voicing the entire thing in a slightly different tone. I loved the way he talked about being passionate in everything you do, that is the only way to succeed and be happy. And love life above everything, it will show in not just your work but everything you do. And of course not to forget eradicating complacency! I could almost hear myself saying the same thing in EXACTLY the same way. It was crazy…almost like an out of body experience. Yes, times when we talked about how important passion is, not just in work but human relationships, how complacency can lead to confusion and dissatisfaction. Weird how I could almost see myself standing in his place and saying all that he said about life. Weird how I wish you could have been there listening…not just hearing but listening, to my mirrored voice.

Pathological...

2005-05-03T23:24:00.000+05:00

To passify myself I say its a disease, its pathological...u cant help but...Lie!
HA! If its the one thing that puts me off so much, how can I even stand you doing it again and yet again and still be standing around to tolerate it?!
That something I wont be able to figure out soon, yet that isnt wat bothers me.....its the fact that you are not supposed to be mattering even a bit, particularly after lying about crap, that prbobaly doesnt even amount to anything....that wasn't significant enough to lie about in the first place....that I shouldnt even think twice about, yet here I am venting out about Insignificant You.
I say I dont give a damn, i make myself believe that.
I 'm the first to defend the accused, even when im not sure msyelf...
And things that are not supposed to mean anything, are apparently those that mean the most.

Life can be extremely ironic at times.

untitled

2005-04-21T11:07:00.000+05:00

Oct 2004

Don’t tell me you are waiting…
You never showed me a sign…
Never made an effort to show me you are mine

Now I’m waiting…
Waiting patiently to get over you…
Silently suffering…witnessing the bruises
Your words or lack of them caused

You dangle hope,
Just to draw it back,
You show me you care,
Just before the despair.

“Passed On” to the Unknown.

2005-04-21T11:06:00.000+05:00

6th August 2004

“Death ends a life but it does not end a relationship, which struggles on in the survivor’s mind towards some resolution that it may never find”
Robert Anderson

People say time is the best healer… I’ve rarely experienced the healing power of time. It still hurts the same way as it initially did many years ago. Yes, the severity and sharpness of the pain dulls away and a constant ache takes its place. It may not always be the first thing on our conscious, but it is there nevertheless, pain, triggered by words, nostalgia, yearning and love. We slowly settle into our daily lives and act like nothing happened to cause a change in the cycle of day and night and yet every minute we are affected by it deeply as if there were a shift in the earth’s rotating motion.
Someone’s absence, be it temporary or permanent causes a stirring of emotions never evoked during their presence. Things that now seem extraordinary, moments that are now memories to be cherished forever, never had the same significance. Words and conversations that we quote and repeat to ourselves in solitude or company, seemed just like any other words that come out of a person’s mouth. Conversations we continue to replay in our heads, causing us to hurt ourselves over and over again will always have the same stinging effect. Yes, the pain does dull away; we settle into life’s routine, we realize the first thing we remember when we wake up was not the absence or void but other nitty gritties of life, and slowly it becomes the second and then the third thought. Never quite disappearing but lurking in the shadows of our consciousness.
A day doesn’t go by when we don’t think of them. All those voids and all those marks, not scars, just marks, footprints and memories. Seasons may come and go, and a lifetime may pass, yet the footprints are never quite washed away with the waves that crash against rocks and at times slowly caress the sand, they do become faint and dull with time, but never so dull that they can’t be seen on a lonely dark night with a starless sky. For when I take a walk along the shore on such a night, my companions are just them, the footprints and the memories of those whose path somehow met mine, whose life beautifully touched mine.

Life's Little Nudges

2005-04-21T10:46:00.000+05:00

May 2003

Uncertainty was something that I’ve never made peace with. And now all of a sudden, it seems like there is absolutely nothing that is a reality, every single thing is questionable and I am on the verge of losing myself in this vortex.
However, there are certain beliefs that keep my feet on the ground and that help me in every single thing I do in life and every single decision I make. I truly believe that every person is sent down here for a particular purpose. There are those who search for that purpose throughout their lives traveling from shore to shore, destination to destination, decision to decision trying to seek and attain truth, reason and meaning. And then there are those who know it in their hearts and know exactly how to achieve it and spend their entire lives fulfilling their purpose. Then there are those who are somewhere in between but not quite. They have an intellect and understanding of things and deeper issues of life, far from success and material goods, but understanding of people, relationships and issues far less tangible. But somehow they just don’t know hot to go about finding their purpose, and achieving it. Saying that all they need is faith and direction would not be true, yes they need that above all but they also need someone else, someone who can help them find and achieve their purpose and hold their hand on every failure, wipe their tears and pat their backs and congratulate them on their every success. Would that be a person? I don’t know. Maybe an entity, which, like their understanding, is far less tangible. Yes, indeed they need Faith the most.
So much needs to be shared and so much has to be penned down, maybe that is what my purpose is…maybe this is how I will find, achieve and succeed in fulfilling my purpose.

Something I try to remember and tell myself every time I get an opportunity… try and look for the greater, deeper meaning in things, in Gods signs to you and in life's little nudges and gestures to you.

the first one

2005-04-20T22:37:00.000+05:00

A Storyteller. Someone who knows the art of telling stories, weaving a narrative in and out of someone’s life, spinning a web of words, crossing the boundaries of reality, overlapping fact and fiction and enveloping the subject in the nitty-gritty of the narrative. Precisely, my passion is writing. The art where perception is far more vivid than sensation, thoughts are given shape, ideas are given form and words are the tools of communication. One day I dream of being that…A Storyteller. That’s all I wish to say about myself here and now. The rest; through reflections, raw, crap,unrefined writing, you will know me...