Thursday, March 7, 2013
Dear God, I'm puzzled. I know about you, I believe on your wisdom, but there is still something. I don't exactly know, but it is sort of a crazy curiosity. Do I need to fall in love with you? I mean, will that help me?
And, you are the all wise, so, maybe I need to dive into wisdom as well.
Help me please.
Monday, March 4, 2013
Dear 5th March - Welcome aboard
Kaafi dino se apnay aap se baat nahi ki, tum aey ho tou chalo yeh karletay hain.
Ammi Abbu ki tabiyat theek nahi, laikin inn halaat mayn kaisay wapis jaeyn, woh dono ijazat hee nahi detay... December mayn aik cousin ko goli lagi aur doosra ighwa hua, aaj din mayn Abbas Town walon ki namaz e janaza mayn aik aur ko goli lagi, abhi tou Pakistan wapis anay ka naam bhi luun tou Ammi Abbu maar dalengay, waisay bhi zinda rehnay ke chances kam hotay ja rahay hain hamaray ab...
Hamid ki shadi ho gaee and I could not attend it, aksar shadiyon pe ab yahi ho raha hai ke I miss them badly, Faizan ke abbu ki tabiyat kharab hai aur dil chahta hai ke aksar miluun us se ja ke laikin mayn karachi mayn huun hee kab. Ajeeb disjointed si life ho rahi hai.
Apna rona kya roen, abhi tou unka soch ke sar ghoom jata hai jin ke ghar barbaad ho gaey hain. Yeh middle class loag poori zindagi laga ke aik do akmray ka ghar banatay hain, sab toot phoot gaya. Zohaib ka koi jaannay wala hai, pareeshan hai ke ab kahan rahengay, khandaan bhi ghareeb hai tou kisi ke ghar lambay arsay tak rukna asaan nahi. Pata nahi kya hoga is family ka, aur aisi tamaam families ka. Ammi Abbu shadi ka keh rahay hain, jab bhi ho, mujhay nahi lagta I can hold a happy-go-lucky shadi, itnay loag mar rahay hain aur barbaad ho rahay hain, mental stress se guzar rahay hain, aur mayn koi dhol dhabakay wali shadi karuun? How? Only if I become numb, or senseless, jo kaafi loag ho hee jatay hain hamaray yahan majbooran.
it is my birthday today. i usually receive phone calls or messages. i feel good that people care about me. but, it just doesn't feel good right now, in fact i feel hurt if someone says happy birthday to me right now. aisa ke jaisay koi taaziyat kar raha ho. shayad taaziyat zyada behtar hogi happy birthday kehnay se.
Pata nahi. Bas make sure no one dies, jaan se bhi, aur dil se bhi. Aur bas Karachi, aur baaqi saray shehr, poora mulk, khair se rahay. Karachi ka naam letay uay hee aisa lagta hai kisi bewa ka naam le rahay hon, ya kisi aisa maa ka jis ke bachay maar diye gaey hon. I miss Karachi, laikin jab halaat kharab hotay hain tou I miss it more. Dill chahta hai is ko bhairion se bacha luun, aik ajeeb sa ghussa dimagh ko control karleta hai Karachi ka soch ke.
Khair... Mujhay gift waghaira bhi nahi pasand, laikin can you promise to be a hope for a better day and better upcoming days? Ok sorry, I know it is more than enough to ask for as a gift...
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
From Nadia's diary.
Owais and Ahmed both had picked strong career paths, and Uncle Jamil's family had became financially very strong over the course of less than a decade, owing to the good careers of both his sons. They were nice, humble people. Owais married a bit earlier as he and Sana did not want to wait after graduation, and it was time for Marium, Ahmed and Binni to get married, and it was expected that the family will rather easily find good matches for them - both were very pretty girls, and their father, Uncle Jamil, had a lot of contacts due to his government service.
And so it happened, it was Marium first, and Phuppu Baji, as the kids called Uncle Jamil's sister, played her part in finding a good handsome guy from a well established family which was rather famous in Karachi as their forefathers were good scholars of the Sub Continent, and upon migration they gathered a stronger following, though the kids were not into the religion business much.
All proceedings happened smoothly, and the preparations were also nearly ready, with only the wedding event left to be planned properly. There was one problem which was slightly bothering Uncle Jamil's family, that most of their relatives are not of their own financial status. They were planning for a beautiful wedding at the Naval Housing Society's Lawn near Beach Luxury at the sea, which is a wonderful sight, but there were a few things they could not settle with. First to start with, it is hard to access and commute to - one cannot arrive at the venue without a car, most of their relatives did not have a car. Then, Binni's insistence was for everyone to be 'color-coordinated' in their clothing at both the Baraat and Valima events, forget about the rest, even Phuppu Baji and Akbar Bhai, both siblings of Uncle Jamil, they were financially not strong enough to afford such preparations for all of their children, both had big families, and Akbar Bhai already had a series of medical situations that had thinned the already fading savings - his only source of income in the form of Savings Scheme Certificates.
Owais planned to assist both the families for their clothing, as a gift. But it still would not be a very color-coordinated event with so many close relatives. Also, the problem of commuting for the extended family was something everyone was constantly thinking of.
To everyone's ease, the venue planner informed that the space left for guests would be too limited after setting up the chandeliers Marium especially instructed for, it was a huge and breathtaking wedding stage that they had designed. So, now that they could not do anything about it and the time was short, they thought not to bother the family members by inviting them from so far away, and shortened the list of guests, so much so that it looked like a very small get-together instead of a traditional grand South Asian wedding. Binni's dream came true; everyone from the girl's side was color-coordinated, and the event was a calm, peaceful one.
The trend followed in the weddings of Ahmed and Binni, which happened in quick successions within a span of eighteen months.
Sadia Khala did not break her tradition, though she was not invited because she lived in Surjani town; sparing her the travel trouble, but she always managed to take a rickshaw after each of these three weddings to Uncle Jamil's house in Clifton, to give Salaami to the newly wed couple, which always came out to be 101 Rupees. No body from the in laws of the three newly married children of Uncle Jamil knew who she was. I do not remember much, but I do recall that in Binni's childhood, twice she brought her new school uniforms as her uniforms were old and small, and she used to appreciate Owais and Akbar in their studies with gifts whenever they achieved some distinction. Uncle Jamil's financial condition was not good back in those days.
26th February 2013
p.s. Hamza reads my diary sometimes, I find it to be a very romantic gesture of a husband. Reading this note, he left a comment on a piece of paper:
"I tried comparing through my imaginations the beauty of Binni's color coordination and Marium's chandeliers with the beauty of Sadia Khala's unconditional love for the family, you should try that too."
Monday, February 25, 2013
There have been quite a few coincidences lately, some I don't remember.
Last week I had a couple of interesting ones which I thought to blog:
So, I was in London where a very good host took me to his place and asked me to stay the night, I wasn't very comfortable but I did not feel very good to refuse. His brother in law, a guy nearly my age, also lives together with them, and after an initial conversation with him, it turned out that his parent are my parents' neighbor in Karachi - a pleasant coincidence. Just today, one of my father's friends (who frequents our place regularly) asked him if I was in London, and upon learning that, he told him that I stayed with his newly related son-in-law (the guy my age I met at my acquaintance's place). We all felt amused by this surprise.
Last week, a friend came to my current city and we decided to have dinner together. He had a consultant-colleague with him too, an American-German, and a PhD in Physics, so we decided to have local barbecue together. Just when he entered the restaurant, I told my other friend that I have seen this person somewhere. Then we met them and started having an interesting chat, and later on, he told me that he was on Istanbul airport right when I was, and we were on the same flight from Istanbul to Dammam. Woah!
I enjoy this, the world is too small, and so interrelated!
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Sunday, January 6, 2013
"What are you after? Gold? Fame? or Sand?", asked the wayfarer with a least caring, and a mocking attitude, but with thoughtfulness of something I couldn't apprehend. "Say it, because I don't know you, and we will never cross our paths again, and because you need to, you badly need to". Surprisingly to my own self, I wasn't offended by this, because somewhere down within, I knew I wanted to talk.
"Where are you going to? Which city? It is the South of Karachi you are in, if you go further down you will find nothing but Malir naddi and you might touch Korangi,..." I tried to continue but he cut me sharply, "Say it, you alteregoistic, two faced, dead man!". His eyes were dashing, they were as if piercing through my own, and while knowing everything still ordering me to answer his question.
I was, by now, dumbfound. Not by his reaction, but by my own vagueness. "I don't know...", I replied, and not knowing, I sat on the roadside on the construction material that was always there on the road coming in towards Nad-e-Ali from Malir Halt's traffic signal. By now, I started to have a headache which I sometimes used to get whenever I started to think closely about relationships.
"Technically, to Him we belong and to Him is our return..." were the words I could manage to gather and utter to intellectually answer his question, something that I always try to do, when I was interrupted by something - a hand brushed my hairs, a very affectionate hand, and I had my usual feeling of I-don't-deserve-to-be-visited-by-noble-people starting to grip my heart and feel low about myself when the words came; "You don't need to borrow thoughts to answer questions to fulfill a situation. It is OK to lose. Lose your other face, let go of it, it is not who you are. The questions are about YOU, they are not about an imaginary perfect person, unless you intend to become one, which I have invited you for a million times, but you forget..."
The next moment, the same wayfarer was walking with a huge book, reading it while walking in a certain speed if not too fast, as if he had to reach somewhere. "Where did you get such a big book? Why are you reading it while you walk? What is so important with it?" I asked while starting to walk with him. He was too busy, rather too pensive, and murmured, "There is an important message at the end of the book that I have to reach". I could see a lot of Armenian, Arabic, Persian, some text apparently about numerology, and then some images I remembered I saw in some books of Solid State Physics. There were poems I could sense of Hafez scribbled on the sides of the pages of that book, not random notes, specifically written on purpose.
Suddenly, I noticed the glistening page at the end of the book. As the wayfarer walked, the pages would flutter and I could glimpse some text written at the center of that page - I instantly realized what it was and thought to myself, "This is the message he is after! This is the crux of this masterpiece!", and started walking in excitement and sheer curiosity, trying not to show that I am trying to read the most important message of this book, the heart of this book, and then I read it - completely, and stopped: