"You think I'm pretty without any makeup on"......NOT?

I like Lady Gaga. Other than her catchy songs I've always thought Gaga was is an original. You know why, because she prefers to be interesting rather than typically pretty. Its like, she's not conveniently different but inconveniently different. Many other stars tried to follow and be outrageous, like Kesha, Rihanna? Epic fail I'd say. The only thing that comes through my vocal cords is the four letter word used to describe ladies with provocative extra curricular activities. Yeah, that's the closest I get to swearing. I wonder if PTA banned that too.

​But this is not about divas and their antics. This is about finding the fine line between being who you are and trying to be who you're not. This newfound quest of being "different". The reason Gaga gets away with her shenanigans is that's who she always was, from day one. Other regular ladies tried too hard to bring something to the exterior that didn't match the interior at all, thus they appear a bit "desperate". And no, not everyone can tell the difference. Also, those who can't wouldn't know what the hell I'm actually talking about.

Back in the day when we were young and without worry life was so simple wasn't it? As in, either you had or or you didn't and everyone lived with such facts. I remember how in A' levels, a welcome or farewell party was all special since everyone was excited to see everyone else all dolled up and suited up, respectively. Save for some, regular school days came with this rough and tough look. Those were the looks we ended up crushing on.

So what's up these days? Mass production? Its like this, the worse the country's situation gets the more extravagant we get with our shopping and choices. To rid self of depression in a time of recession? Vanity in a time of insanity? Every winter it becomes harder to just waltz in the general store with this hoodie inherited from the brother. What was once a sign of warmth, carefree-ness and comfort is now apparently some feminine fashion disaster. Gimme a break.

The sights and sounds around a general marketplace bustling with people, like say Jinnah Super has changed. No more variety of individuals. Its weird, you actually admire someone from afar, girl or guy both but then people like me wonder how much of what you saw was a lie. If a person can make that much effort in hiding all of their flaws what does that say about them? What of those sun kissed faces, unkempt flowing locks, casual careless demure replaced by walking talking Kens and Barbies. Perfect getting boring no? Call me weird but I believe in the slightest of flaws in a person, it kind of makes you see how unflawed the rest of them is. And when I say appearance i mean anything and everything that contributes to an overall outlook. The skin (caked so much that you might be needing a drill), the hair colour, the car, the clothes, the lifestyle, the gadgets, the education, the fake accent, the lavish eating, the stories of non-existent special connections. Everyone is fat these days. And this is not body fat, this is what everyone looks like when they're coated with all that materialistic sheen, real or fake. An epidemic, just like dengue?​​

When the guy sang "you got designer shades just to hide your face" it brings an anecdote to mind. My brother told me how once a group of guys in school followed two girls who came in for admission, all the way to the admin office (very long walk :P) and then came the about turn. Why? Because the girls took off them gigantic shades and the boys weren't actually thrilled. Frankly, that's a bit mean. Stereotyping at its height. It goes on to show how people can like and unlike a whole person like a status update. Where be the simplicity, the sudden rush of feeling, the infatuation, feelings that run skin deep? What is it now, a checklist? Loyalties anyone?

Weirdly, the "checklist" works differently for both sexes now. Most of the female population(take note guys) still goes for the old-fashioned/classy roughed up look rather than glistening hair products. *Points to self*. (And no, that still doesn't give you license to NOT shave orcomb hair for the rest of your days). However, even if you're an original, you're only partially qualified. The female mind is stronger in resisting attraction which is why​ they'd prefer a'package' deal any day. Like my brother once said :"Fine, I admit guys can never be as loyal as girls but girls are crazy for 'dough'".

Its scary right? How do you filter them out? What's real anymore anyway? Believe it or not, humans are weak. They see what they like, they like what they see. End of story. Its just sad that the nation has become even worse about passing judgements. And well we're all part of this. I know the difference. If I barge in a store looking significantly hot with a Fendi hanging on my elbow I am "madam" and if its a quick run, my hair's toussled and messy and I have a shawl wrapped around like an "amma jee" I'm treated like a homeless person until I produce the green or blue bill to get some attention. Did I mention I always end up meeting a gazillion people when adorned by the latter look and get major judgement stares?

Beauty is not in the eye of the beholder anymore. What is it then, our insecurities speaking?Are we THAT bipolar or is it just the result of these trying times we're going through, like there's no other entertainment anymore. There IS no obsession like self obsession right? Or maybe, you think, its not a bad thing to happen at all. If looking or appearing good has been made so easy then why not right? That's what my sis said when I showed her this. She said, so what if its easy and accessible for everyone to look nice these days, if someone thinks they look good with makeup on 24/7 its not actually some sue-able offense. I know she's right but I also know that whatever this is is getting way out of control.

The quest of being different made all of us look the same no? And like a drug we can't get enough of it. I wish that time would come back, when judgement was passed after you actually knew the person, when taking people seriously was not based on how and what they looked like, when people meant what they said and said what they meant, when words were not just words but actions waiting to happen. I wish I was born in the 60s (I say that a lot fyi). Music was good, food was pure, people were transparent and kind of hip too. Oh well.

​Until next time, originally yours,​
Sara Q.

P.S: I HATE winters.

The Optimist Taking a Break From Optimism

The following was my facebook status update yesterday. It got a lot of attention because well it was sorta unlike me, the dark emotion not the intellectual piece of writing fyi. The thing is, creativity comes when it does and the context is not of our own choosing so what the heck. Talha pointed out that the status update could actually be "mini post" in itself.

Note: It wasn't this long originally. I added stuff to it. Its hardly 300 words. This is weird for me because its so tiny. Now I'm just rambling to make it bigger :P

When we're young we are told to do anything that makes us happy, not talk to strangers, dream, have a wild imagination, be spontaneous, ask questions to learn more. We think our parents will always be there to take care of us, that love is unconditional, every grownup who smiles at us is awesome. Life is colour, life is sunlight. There is still the good guy/bad guy distinction thanks to cartoons, we hate homework, and studies. Whatever happened yesterday was history. The only thing that mattered was today.

And then we grow up. We realise we can't do everything that makes us happy because there's a society to answer to, we are told to stop dreaming and be realistic, that our imagination will be the death and starvation of us someday, we question our parents' mortality and their depleting healths (I know that's grammatically wrong but pluralising gives a better effect) , we wish we had studied more, or had worked harder. We are told to get out of our individual "bubbles" and face reality. We will eat our own words and extinguish our internal fires with our own hands. The colours and light we thrived upon seem to make us squint. We'll realise even love has conditions, people are not what they seem and smiling is no measure of character.

We switch spontaneity with round the clock planning, we'll realise some questions will remain unanswered forever and some answers make us learn more than we bargained for. We realise how mere strangers have the ability to transform our lives. We stop being thankful for today. All we have are the regrets of yesterday. The only thing that remains is the good/bad guy distinction, with a slight upgrade. We realise that more than any bad guy or any enemy, it is our own self that has the ability to finish us off without assistance. We will be our own worst enemy yet forced to be everyone's friend.

Hoping she comes back to her normal crazy self soon,
Sara (burgundy) Q.

P.S : Why the hell is our cricket team wasting time with Bangladesh? Just got the winning six alert. Afterthought.

Just a number...

Image by brian.ch via Flickr

I really can't remember how many men I've killed. In Metal Gear Solid I've slit the throats of Spetsnaz spooks. In Call of Duty I've gunned down Arabs and blown American soldiers to bits. In Tenchu I've beheaded many Samurai warriors and in Grand Theft Auto I've indiscriminately killed everyone from the police officer to the ordinary citizen in the most sadistic of ways. The number of ways I have killed is almost as innumerable as my victims. I've used piano wire to choke them, a high powered sniper rifle to reduce their heads to mince meat, pushed them off cliffs, thrown venomous snakes at them, fed them poisoned food, suffocated them with a plastic bag over their head, perforated them with automatic rifles, used an old fashioned sword to mutilate them and many many more. And you know what? It was fun. It was exhilarating. It was epic.

You're the same. You love it too. Killing is.... exciting, for the lack of a stronger word. In every movie we all move to the edge of our seat as the protagonist is about to deal the final blow. The doves fly, everything slows down, the music swells, the hero pulls the trigger and down goes the bad guy. The clouds part, the sun shines down. The evil one lies in a pool of blood and is forgotten after one final shot of his corpse. Everyone celebrates the death of a man. In that moment, that final moment, killing is glorious. It is proof that as civilised as we are, within each of us still beats the heart of a barbarian.

There is nothing glorious about killing.

It doesn't matter how many video games we play or how many films we watch. Nothing can soften the full blow of watching the real thing. These days, that is not a scarce sight. It seems the road to hell begins in Pakistan. This week, we all saw an unarmed man get killed in cold blood by none other than the guardians of the people. And I don't know about you, but I'm still trying to figure out what just happened. I'm still lost in that "what the f***?" moment. I can't process it. How can someone just do that? End a life, for no other reason than to end a life? By what process does a mans mind just decide to pull the trigger, or swing the blade and end someone? How is it possible for someone to suppress all that is human and kill in cold blood?

Sometimes I hate the empathy that I possess. It's annoying to see everyone else's point of view. Seeing that video, that too inadvertently, I can't help but picture myself in that same situation. I can't help but see myself there, bleeding away, screaming for help and watching in horror as no one does a thing to help, knowing that the only thing a "concerned" citizen is doing is recording my last moments to spread "awareness". I can't help but wonder what that mans last thoughts were. Did he think of his loved ones? What did he want to say to them? What did he think of all the spectators to his demise? Did he feel hate for them? Did he have regrets? What did he ask God in that moment? What did he feel for the one that pulled the trigger? I can't help but have all that run amok in my brain and the sheer horror of that moment, being the victim of an injustice, lying in a city of eight million with not one doing anything to help is enough to paralyze me.

So did he deserve to die? Does anyone deserve to die? Does anyone deserve what happened to that man? And who gets to decide when a life must be extinguished? Who is the one who deserves to carry out the deed? Knowing what I know so far, the only thing I can say is that what happened was wrong. There is no way to justify the killing of an unarmed man, without trial, without just cause. Anyone who says otherwise, is wrong. What he was, what he may have done, whether he was thief and murderer, he did not deserve the fate dealt out to him. If people have to be shot because they were probably evil, because they had probably committed the crime, then you'll have to line up everyone in the country and put a bullet in them. The actions taken by the ranger on that day are no different than any terrorist.

What about the other side of the story? There's always another side. If we assume that the ranger was a reasonable man then what can drive a reasonable man to do such a thing? Well, the nature of his job always puts him at risk. He is always there in the places we don't dare to go, dealing with people we don't want to meet and experiencing moments we don't ever want to be in. Maybe after watching citizens lose their lives over something as little as a cellphone, after watching his comrades die trying to protect an ungrateful society, something in him snapped. Maybe after all the senseless slaughter he decided that the only way to fix things was disproportionate punishment, to set an example to serve as a deterrent to others. Don't deny the fact that somewhere deep down you feel the same, that the best way to fix the problem is with a bullet. But that will fix nothing.

I don't condone what the ranger did. I'm surprised some do.

I remember back in A-Levels a friend showed the whole class a video of a man being beheaded. Our teacher had to rush to the washroom as he could not hold down his lunch. Nothing can prepare you for the real thing. It's easy to watch all the bloodshed in movies and video games because we can reassure ourself, it's fake. But that video, knowing that what we were watching was a real human being, with family, with hopes, with memories, with dreams and emotions, that it was all real, something changed in us. It was like a punch to the gut and pain would not just go away. It was the same thing with the video of the incident in Karachi. So why does everyone feel the need to distribute it? What is it that you wish to obtain from the footage of a man dying? And don't tell me it's for "awareness." When did simply knowing an innocent man died stop being enough to stir emotion? What joy do we derive from watching and spreading the death of a man? Am I the only one who feels that this is disrespectful? Who is being helped by the proliferation of the footage?

Spreading a video doesn't make you a patriot, tweeting doesn't make you a part of a revolution, changing your profile picture doesn't spread awareness and liking some page doesn't make you a better Muslim. For that matter even blogging is meaningless. People need to wake up and realize that these meaningless things just mean they are too lazy to solve the problems that we face today. They are silly games, made to make us feel better. Here's one last question, when our descendants ask us what we did to make things better, what do you think they'll feel when we tell them "well beta, I updated my facebook status"?

I for one hate preaching, I hoped to write a different post this time around but our country never fails to surprise.

Talha A. B.

Sweet idle brain o’ mine

There goes a saying that “Everything is bigger in Texas”. Well maybe it’s not a saying but I saw it on a T-shirt in a Hillary Duff video many years ago. Don’t judge me, I was 15 OK! I say, forget Texas. In exams, everything is bigger, brighter, more colourful, entertaining and exciting than any other time of the year. The interesting thing is that it’s a concept everyone can relate to. Everyone ranging from age groups 7 to 25 years (or more if you think you haven’t had enough yet or due to the current insane amount of extended studies we all are compelled to do anyway) goes through this phase.

It is times like these that the human mind amazes me. I mean, why and how can it be that something we don’t give a crap about normally will become the center of our lives. I remember when I was studying last year, the nights were long and hot. All I had was the window displaying darkness. It was then that I started noticing this vehicle coming up to the office up front around three in the morning, VERY often during the week. Before I knew it the books were chucked away and I saw myself, binoculars in hand, lights off, trying to find the cause of such late night visits. My imagination went wild; drugs, smuggling, chucking away dead bodies, burglary, human trafficking, country wide socio-political conspiracy, you name it, I had already thought of it. Of course when I revealed my midnight adventures on the breakfast table they were welcomed with appalled faces, the mother adding “Haye Allah, what will people think of a girl hanging on the window with binoculars at 3 in the morning!” Well, my answer was, what would people be doing looking out of THEIR windows towards the girl’s window at 3 in the morning? No, why would they be awake anyway? (*Goes into investigatory mode. Again*) I mean, here I am playing responsible neighbourhood watch-type citizen and nobody cares! I was glad that at least THIS reaction was a bit toned down than when I confessed a possible UFO sighting (Again, do NOT judge me, I was around 10 when that happened :P). So yeah, when I say imagination gone wild, I’m so not kidding.

It is this time of the year, or month, or 6 months or semester that out neural configurations change a bit. I don’t know about you but I tend to get edgy, sensitive, emotional, totally creative and much to my bad luck hungry! Somehow the neighbours' grandkids start looking cuter, so much so that you just want to watch them take swings and live their problem-less life. Of course I snap out of that soon enough since at least I’m done with all THAT, you know school, O/A level. That kid still has to go through that. Ha! SCORE! Take that extremely cute kid with no worries! Then there is the house at 7 o’ clock. Like clockwork the girl who lives there will come to this swing set and keep swinging till sunset. She doesn’t follow the clock, but the sun. And once again, books forgotten I concoct up her life history, hopes and dreams. Also, the earlier mentioned grandkid’s grandma and ma have this whole Star Plus style thing going on. I can feel the vibes and the characteristic “gongs” at a bearing of 45 degrees north, about 50 feet away.

Speaking of Star Plus I develop an interest there too. Normally there is total remote snatching going on along with constantly cursing the poor characters and camera angles and blackmailing the mother but come exam season I find myself asking the mother how “Akshara” (HIGHLY annoying) is doing. Also, there will always be a notebook nearby, literary epiphanies come when the mind is too full of numbers, poetry evolves when the mind is blocked with too much information, outrageous status updates (yes, more outrageous than usual) will keep flitting when the self gets lonely and misses its constant ‘networking’ and much to everyone’s horror, waiiiiit for it…..singing! Not to mention sartorial ideas even, so much so that one is compelled to sketch some scrawny drawings. Yes, that is a big deal. Those who know me a bit know I usually wish for the miracle of going to bed one night, getting up the next morning and voila, all clothes, matched, designed, stitched lying somewhere in “the elves and the shoemaker” style.

The worst part is there is always some wedding, huge party or Eid round the corner that you have to miss more or less. Not that it’s too bad, I mean I look like hell anyway but yeah total self-pity moment. BUT the family always sends my share in plastic ice cream boxes so the food pity is covered I guess.

These are just a few examples. I guess everyone has a crazy exam creativity niche. My sister goes artistic and starts making stuff out of the kind of stuff people would throw away (to great effect I must add). My brother says his mind opens up for strategy video games and he gets better at them. Everyone I know will have some distractive exam life in store for them. Talha A. B. here coded a whole template (for the blog! Coming soon :D). Yes, coding a template, that’s a big deal. Not child’s play so children, don’t play. Note to Talha: Good work, now STUDY!

Anyway, here be that time again. Already here for some and for some (cough) not too far off. So yes, the time of distraction (that can lead to destruction) is here. Let’s hope we all consider it only an element that keeps us sane and it doesn’t prevail the mere reason it originated from. Let this be the time to reflect on the little “fun” things we take for granted. Like staring at the huge mango tree the 7 o’clock guys had WHICH they were stupid enough to cut down. Who DOES that to a mango tree? That’s fruity blasphemy! The only tree in the vicinity now is the “jaamun” (black currants) tree. I don’t even like jaamun. I hardly like “gulaab jamun” (come to think of, that’s sweetmeat blasphemy. Fine, I’m “selective” about them, stop judging my sweet tooth now :P).

With that highly unnecessary last detail I bid you all the very necessary good lucks and break a legs for upcoming and ongoing exams. Study hard, stay sane and remember the most important rule, one chip at a time :D

Sara (distracted) Q

P.S: At this point I feel awfully relieved that the good looking grand kid is 24 months and not 24 years. Just saying. Again, do NOT judge me! 

Of anomalies, ecology, paradigms and poop

Image via Wikipedia

Poop. It is something we all make. Why? Because we must so that we may allow our bodies to carry on with the rape of mother nature. Yes, I said poop. Get over it.

Confusing. That’s the only way I can express it. It’s just so damn confusing. I look at all the other species on the planet. They live in such perfect harmony. As Edward Elric would say, “All is one, one is all”. Everything is part of this circle. Living and dying. In dying, making way for the newly born. A perfect, finely tuned, never ending circle. As Mufasa told us in our childhood, “the circle of life.” If you don’t know who Edward Elric is, watch more anime. If you don’t know who Mufasa is, did you even have a childhood?

So why confusing? Confusing because, In this perfect circle, there is one big anomaly. Humanity. The best killer that this planet has produced, oddly sticks out. An anomaly in an otherwise perfectly balanced equation. Our blood lust is insatiable. We’ll kill each other, we’ll kill life that surrounds us and if we take a step back from all the killing for a moment to lift ourselves high enough to see the big picture, a larger fragment of the grand design, we’ll realize that there is one more victim of our crimes. One more life that we are all slowly ending.

The big picture? Well, to simplify, lets try a paradigm shift. I love doing that, we should do that more often. Such a beautiful concept isn’t it? If you can’t play the game, just change all the rules. Come to think of it, it’s dangerous concept too. So lets change some rules. Lets redefine how we see our planet. Lets assume that it is just an organism existing in a wider ecosystem. The atmosphere, the deep blue oceans, the rolling plains, the hauntingly beautiful deserts, the mysterious forests and the veiled mountains are all mere organs of this organism. All the living beings within this organism are merely cells, that ensure that the organs function as they are supposed to.

Get the picture? Well, lets keep going then. The circle of life. All is one, one is all. Everything has a defined role. They will consume that which is defined for them, taking no more than is necessary and in turn be consumed by another. No exceptions. It doesn’t matter whether you are a miniscule insect or a mighty predator. You will serve your time. You will fulfill your ordained purpose. You will consume that which is allowed to you. Then, having done it all, you will pass on, in the end being only nutrition for the body. For the new organisms, for the new cells to consume.

The anomaly? Well, all the cells are in perfect in harmony. If we leave this system of cells and organs unregulated, it will carry on forever. That is, until you factor in just one last cell. Mankind. This cell is different from all others in the body. It has no predator. It will kill almost anything, for reasons other than self preservation. It continually evolves, always changing, always adapting. Unlike all others that dare not go beyond the boundaries set for them, mankind will find a way to survive even the harshest of conditions. It has no natural evolutionary advantage over any cell in the body. No claws, no sharp teeth, no strength. All it possesses is a neo-cortex and opposable thumbs. One final thing, Its hunger knows no bounds. It will consume anything and everything, going beyond its own needs regardless of whether other cells or even if its own kin starve. Death of another, even extinction, matters not.

Does it make sense? The behavior of this one cell is irrational. Unlike the other cells, it is aware of the body. It knows the bigger picture. It even knows the consequences of its own actions. Yet still, its behavior remains outside the boundaries of what is rational. The brightest minds are employed, not to save humanity but to destroy it. Their job is to come up with newer more efficient and creative ways to kill itself and everything around it. Millions of its kind are starving, on the verge of death and yet knowing this the others hoard resources for themselves, far beyond that which they require. As a species, humanity is suicidal.

How does humanity fit in this picture? Well, lets think on it. What is the one thing inside any living organism that does nothing except consume its hosts’ resources, destroy everything around it and reproduce so that its offspring may carry on doing the same? There is one organism that matches the description. Agent Smith tells us, it's a “virus”. If you don’t know who Agent Smith is, where have you been for the past ten years?

What now? Do we carry on? Do we change our ways? We will have to ultimately. The sooner we do, the better chance we have at a brighter future. Like any living being, our planet can only sustain the wounds we inflict for so long. Maybe it’s for the best we haven’t discovered any other inhabitable planet yet. In our current state, we’d only add another victim to our list of murders.

Talha A. B.

Country for sale! Buy now while stocks last!

Image via WikipediaIn a post not too long ago I may have complained that the general price level in our fair country is getting a bit too high. In this one however, I will tell the other side of the story. After all, I'm not one to manufact propaganda and propagate the news of our country's dismal state. There are in fact many things that are quite cheap and getting even cheaper by the minute. The credit goes to, well, we'll leave that part for later. For now, lets get into all the bargains you can grab before the sale season ends.

I was always told that human life is priceless. You can't measure it. It's impossible to value it terms of anything else that God may have created. Gold, silver, diamonds and even oil. Well, that last item has some complication attached to it. Imagine that. Such a high price for this particular item that you can't even measure it. Now however, thanks to capitalism (or is it imperialism? I keep getting confused) the prices for this once expensive commodity are now greatly reduced! But you can only avail this offer in Pakistan. Just ask American tourist Raymond Davis (or is it assassin? Again, I keep getting confused) who bought two Pakistani lives for 1.4 million dollars. Thats just USD 700,000 a piece! And who knows, if you buy in bulk you'll surely get a big discount. Just Imagine, you could be the owner of your very own genocide! In fact, get creative enough and you can name it a "Pakistani" holocaust!

To top it off, America is giving us Islamiat lessons for free. How nice of them to give us that little refresher course on blood money. Wow America, I have no words to express the overflowing sentiments I feel right now. I do however have a finger that can get a minute fraction of the point across. Guess which one?

It doesn't end there. The Pakistan Tourism Development Corporation has gone to great lengths to make our beautiful country more accessible to foreigners. Why just now they started their stealth helicopter program. Thats right, If you own a stealth helicopter then you can just fly right in! No visa, no passport necessary. Hell, we'll even toss in a free Arab. If you're armed then you'll love to visit the town of Abottabad for target practice. By the way, Abottabad is not a suburb of Islamabad. It's a city itself. Way up in the mountains.

It's not just Pakistan that is making itself more accessible to foreign countries. You may all remember the Iraqi "Everyone with a false rumor gets in free" promotion. That had dramatic effects on the price of oil. Consider this, the American forces had themselves a party there, according to the Iraqi Body Count project they won the lottery, 150,726 Iraq's killed. There's no way we can compete with that. Damn you oil rich countries. Now, assuming an average of 1.9 million barrels of oil were pumped out from Iraq from 2003 to 2010 and that the average human body has 4 litres of blood the price of oil comes out 0.000124 litres of Iraqi blood per barrel! Now thats an amazing offer you just can't beat. I don't know why Americans complain about the high cost of oil, all you have to do is deposit one dead Iraqi at the nearest gas station and you walk away with 32,207 barrels of oil!

Coming back to Pakistan, people may not know this but we also have another great service. We'll stock your prisons for you! Just ask our satisfied customer, the administration of Gitmo. Before they outsourced their prisoner acquisition function to us, their prison was a desolate place. No prisoners. There were fears of takeovers, mergers and redundancies. Then, we stepped in. With competitive rates as low as a few hundred dollars for one Pakistani, we saved their prison and now it is constantly stocked, always a fresh supply of inmates ready for "enhanced interrogation". That is just one success story, contact us now to see how outsourcing to us can enhance your prison! Whats more, we'll even handle the shipping charges. Contact us at info@buyacitizen.gov.pk.

So who does all the credit go to? Well, to understand that, you've got to realize that Pakistan is a business. It's the Islamic Republic of Pakistan Limited. Once you see it that way you realize that Pakistan Ltd. is, always has been and always will be a cash cow. The owners of this company, the ruling party and the army take every possible step to ensure that it remains a profitable entity. However, no organisation can achieve its objectives without its faithful employees. It is only due to our citizens perserverance to not do anything while things go from bad to worse that we have reached the position where we are today. It is only because of us, who keep electing the same people to power over and over again. So enjoy everyone, you earned it.

Talha A. B.

The Way I Are

Image via WikipediaOk first of all, I think a lot of my post titles have been based on song titles or well parts of songs. Same goes with this one. I kinda like it actually. Anyway, I was going to write something about French people, based on this movie I happened to watch recently (“Ameliè”, good movie, awesome music) but somehow this popped up.

Have you ever felt that the most difficult thing to talk about in this world is......YOU and even worse, what’s going on inside of you (spare us indigestion details though :P). And that rules out vanity (ahem!). So think for a mere two minutes, how many people know you for the REAL you. How much of YOU do you put out there, for all to see, experience and even criticise. It’s weird how there are two sides to every person but they will normally only show one side. Funnily, that’s on choice. Whatever we feel is more acceptable we kind of adopt. So what’s acceptable? Who defines acceptable anyway?

Well the answer to the million dollar question is US. WE define our acceptable. It’s like this; all humans have in them ALL traits, some of them surface more often while others just hover in the background. Some just stick to the walls and might NEVER come up at all. (Just like Davy Jones’s crew in “Pirates of the Caribbean” that just became part of the ship as part of their immortal enslavement). Actually that’s what it is, enslavement. We blame the world for making us who we are or not letting us be who we want to be but the truth is, its all crap. Excuses. We need ’em. ALL THE TIME! Honestly me, you, us, we have total ability, capability and desire to go all out on a lot of stuff and maybe mellow out once in a while. What’s wrong in doing that? Why is the class clown not allowed to have a quiet day? Why can’t the quiet girl be outrageous once in a while? What’s the deal with all this stereotyping? Who says you have to behave the same way your whole life? Evolution where art thou?

Ok let me illustrate using a personal example. Some years ago, my parents went on Haj (Pilgrimage), leaving me and my younger 2 siblings with our then alive grandmother. I wasn’t really old enough to go into household micromanagement but being the eldest some worries came naturally. It was one of those days when I felt stressed and missed my folks like hell that I picked up a pen and paper and concocted a poem in less than 15 minutes. That poem was titled “loneliness”. Those who know me well know that I’ve always had a knack of sharing my creations so I took it to school the next day. BIG mistake. The whole class was spellbound, the friends were outraged and the teacher just stared. Why? Because they didn’t ‘expect’ something like THAT to come out of ME. The friends were offended at the feeling behind it though I explained it was just a spur of the moment thing and NO it did not imply that I was alone and friendless and no one loved me. Whatever the case, the general population viewed me like you view a psyche case so I tore up the poem and declared it a mistake.

Reason behind the reaction? Sara Qadeer, ENTP (“Extroverted. Intuitive. Thinking. Perceiving”; 1 of 16 personality types, find yours HERE), generally bouncy, proactive, loud, optimistic, cheerful, talkative and at times irritating individual writing a poem about being LONELY and SAD! Why? How? What I did was I showed people my other side, the side that “hovers”, that can have depth or introspection and what do you know, it got rejected. I guess it was my fault right? We all permit people to interfere one way or the other. There comes a time when THEY start defining who we are rather than the other way round.

Lately I’ve started questioning myself on how REAL everything is, how LONG it’s supposed to last and how serious that should make me. I have always been the day to day person, take it as it comes. Not the best approach but hey it saves me from headaches. It’s as if for the first time I’m trying to look at the picture ahead and the idea of THAT scares the hell out of me.  I never went into deep thinking about consequences or results. I mean, I used to give the crappiest exam ever and spend the next 2 months like some gold medalist. As a person I’m not too hard on myself. Sure, you beat up yourself for this and that but no long term-ness, more of a ‘living on a whim’ routine, though now, according to worldly interpretation more of a ‘living on a prayer’ scene. You know what God says about this world being temporary I think I took that too seriously, in a way God did not intend me to take. My bad.

Lately I’m being constantly reminded that it is what we do NOW that bring about consequences. And what we are meant to do now IS a consequence in itself no? Consequences leading to more consequences. I hope that made sense.

The bitter reality is that I and maybe you live in severe denial. Denial of the evil lurking in this world, denial of the fact that you actually need to STUDY to pass, denial that things don’t always turn out the way you want them too and that every action has an equal and opposite reaction (Uncle Newton, law of motion btw). It’s as if sooner or later you and I get slapped in the face with reality. The reality I at least always avoid and siphon off.

Ok I know this is getting long but bear with me, this is the best part. It is yet again, one of Talha’s awesome discoveries on why we fluctuate; moods, preferences and what not. The thing extends from what I said about two sides to a person. There is a dominant mode that defines our persona and an “inferior” or suppressed mode that can be called the “shadow” to that persona. So we all know we really can’t get rid of a shadow; we are aware of its existence but we ignore it maybe? If I may quote the co-author “The more you deny your shadow the more it builds up, until it finally manifests into ‘burgundy’ mode”. Yes, burgundy is the colour of my ‘dark’ shadowy side. The regular side is the orange-ish red, if you’re on my facebook refer to the display picture before last :P.

I guess the key is to accept the shadow and the fact that it will never leave you the hell alone. (Ok I’m POSITIVE that one of the “Marvels” made use of such a concept once. Do tell if you know because I can’t remember). Time to time, the shadow needs to be satisfied. The shadow is the extreme opposite of the personality we move around with. So my shadow is an introvert, sensing, feeling and judging type thus it takes over at times so I can stare out in space and try to look for ‘answers’ maybe or more so evaluate self, scribble in the journal, get some stuffed baggage out from the part of the brain I ignore to ponder over and of course hog on fatty food items while I’m at it.

The thing is weirdly, people look up to me for this strange reason. They don’t always tell but I can see it. There is technically nothing extraordinary about me but they tell me I have this optimistic and positive approach to life they wish they had. They go “how do you do it?” or “I need one of your positivity lectures” or “just tell me what ever can be GOOD in what’s happening?”. Basically, I’ll always have a sunny side for some rainy day. Sometimes I ask myself if I myself think that way anymore. Maybe there’s more behind the positive exterior, whatever ounce of negativity comes I shun it away because I’m so adamant to not waive off my belief in the sunny side.

But there are times when those born under the light of the sun see some shadow of doubt. Normally waders, they try to dive. People call such moments of introspection as “phases”. But really, are they? Or are they a reflection of our biggest fear that we might have lost ourselves somewhere along the way. Is this how we started out in the first place or are we just a product of those around us, a chess piece amongst many, playing the part only to get to the other side.

Think about it. I think I might too. Hence, must find food. Until next time,
Sara (serious/philosophical) Q.

Not Cricket to Picket

It can be nothing but a height of overconfidence that the initial name of this post was "Why we HAD to win". I wanted to write BEFORE the semi final (then it was "why we need to win") but was so nervous that I thought I'll get to it after we get into the finals. I'm writing post world cup now but, you know. India. Four years. This is exactly why I'm not into planning, MOM! Oh well. *Sigh*.

I have been asking around, trying to recall if it was always like this and asking parents for the times I can’t recall. Those green T shirts selling like hot jalebis (totally beats hot cakes I swear), a demand supply deficit of multimedia ensembles, totally unrecognisable faces under the green and white paint, social networking sites totally drowned in green and minute by minute reports (guilty as charged :P), people with flags and busted vocal cords on the roads, in markets and at restaurants. The biggest surprise was the preparations and celebrations of those outside the country. No one's challenging patriotism here but yes, parading streets of Toronto, London and New York with life size flags at timings as insane as 5 and 2 A.M means there was seriously something else going on this time.

We wanted this badly! We wanted this SO bad that it was almost funny. Funnier was the fact that we all totally believed that we'd get it this time even after the match-fixing trio got busted and surrounding teams were flexing muscles at our faces. Hope. We live on it. I remember saying that this was easily the ONLY thing left for us Pakistanis to look forward to since Uncle Zardari is going to be here a while, no one can stop the constant siphoning of the State's funds, the target killers are doing what they do best, America pawns us down with our own law and flies Raymond ******* ******* ****** (i permit you to use your imagination!) away and all other horrors Hamid Mir talks about. It’s funny how we are part of one tree but are totally 'branched' when it comes to beliefs, religions, modernism and of course Eid-ul-fitr. Cricket I salute you man. It’s like one of the moments in movies when the male and female leads realise they finally have something in common.

So yeah, for the past many weeks cricket became the ultimate “binder”. It was never like this before, not even when we actually WON the thing. If we’d actually won the world would have exploded, seriously. I also thought, if we LOSE the world would explode too. Imagine my pleasant disappointment. Everyone was so, I dunno….forgiving. Using text messages to ask Afridi to take back his apology, being totally content with having a “good” game and welcoming the team back with open arms. Is it me or are we severely bipolar? Don’t kill me all but I for one don’t think across those optimistic lines. I need answers. Maybe it’s because I’m not one the last minute cricket fans. Cricket has been there all along thanks to friends who used to call in sick on school days to watch matches and cousins with whom we had proper tournaments, every kid chose a “cricketer” second name and every family residence was named after a famous cricket stadium. Ours was the “Old Trafford” by the way.

I’m really not hard to please but there are some things I don’t get and I will criticise. And you know why, so it doesn’t happen again. So we all know Misbah just stood there rooted to the ground and Younis Khan’s usually spot-on fielding sucked. But I personally thing Afridi could have been more responsible than just doing one of his usual slog routines, messing up power play and giving the ball to Umar Gul when he was a clear flop that day. Don’t get me wrong, Afridi did great. He brought the whole “jazba” concept to life. He united us in a way we never imagined. The team was pretty awesome against the biggest names in cricket but it was the match of the decade that messed it all up. Let me just say, it was SO in the bag. We totally had it but we let it slip through our fingers. When THAT happens you don’t just suffice with the fact that “oh well we got to the semis. We are SO proud!”. You think “where did we go wrong, let’s find out and FIX it!”.

The thing is we are one emotional nation. And sometimes (read every time) we let our emotions get the best of us. Yes, I say best because this will be yet another compromise. This time it was OUR time. I don’t know about you guys but four years is an awful lot of time. My family knows I say “Oh I’ll be ANCIENT next World Cup” and every time the time comes I realise I’m not that ancient after all. But really next time, I’ll BE ancient. Let me say it this time around too. I have no idea how 27 year olds enjoy cricket and scream their vocal cords off. I will find out in about 4 years I guess.

Anyway, as Talha pointed out in his cricket post, let’s not just reserve the unified version of us for Cricket alone. We are in deep you-know-what and if we had hearts the size of radioactive cotton candy for bat ball (that’s what we used to call it 15 years ago) then we should not deflate just now. Why do I end up saying such stuff, this was about sports for God’s sake! I need to get meself a political following. Anyway, I just realized I’m wearing totally Indian colours and writing about Pakistan. I think I’ll go drown myself in the exotic swimming pool up front.

Until next time, IF I manage to stay afloat, (which I’m very capable off fyi),
Sara (currently emotional) Q


P.S : The post title upstairs is actually a real song title :P

Come clarity

Image via Wikipedia

It is those from the nation of the unbelievers that ask God for signs. God, I'm not saying I want a sign, but a little clarity would help. These days I spend a lot of time being troubled by my own mind. Given the profession, time to reflect on what has happened, what is happening and what remains to be seen is very short, if there at all. But, God provides and a little time for reflection was at hand. Introspection, how I love thee.

My uncle was to arrive from Lahore to catch another flight to take him to Kabul. In between, there was plenty of time to meet up and have a little fun. Little did we know that PIA had plans of its own. The flight got delayed three times. We found ourselves at the airport at 1:00 in the morning. At this point going home was useless so I managed to convince my parents that they nap in the car and I'll stand guard, ready to wake them at the appropriate hour. You see, my uncle didn't know we were going to meet him and we had to catch him before he checked into international departures.

So, here I was. In the front seat of a Toyota Corolla, in the Islamabad International Airport parking area (I refuse to call it Benazir Bhutto International Airport), my parents asleep, and me staring out the windscreen. That cursed big blue sign bearing the incorrect name of the airport staring back at me. It was while I was playing tug of war with my eye lids that I realized, I was having fun. Just sitting there, watching people go by, almost as if I was invisible. They were all there, the concerned grandmother, the excited child, that guy who has literally the whole family there to see him off and completing the line up were the villagers who were confused with the whole airport experience.

What did I do with this time? What did I think of? Nothing at all. The only thing running through my mind was the calming track "From The Heart" by X-Ray dog (link). For a time, after a very long time, I felt content. I just needed the time alone. However, slowly, stray flashes converged to form thoughts in my mind. It was all that I had been through for the past two years. I find it strange that through it all I only remember the good things, never the bad. They are after all important. I only remember the important things. Always the important things. For once in two years I wasn't thinking about the future, I wasn't worrying myself to death. It was all just about where I was and who was here with me. Only the important ones. You know who you are.

Finally, my uncle arrived and we changed the venue from from the airport parking lot to the Front Page Cafe at the Rawalpindi PC. It was the only thing close enough at the time (@Sara: Exam Hall! :P). There we were, talking over sandwiches and coffee at 4:00 in the morning. What do you eat at time like that? Muhammad Asad writes of an Arabic saying about coffee in his book "The Road To Mecca" (Highly recommended read). The saying goes "Good coffee is bitter like death, and hot like love". Now I can't say much about the death part, but if love is anywhere as hot as this coffee, sign me up. It was that good, but at 4:00 AM, I guess everything is. There I sat, staring out the glass panelling of the hotel lobby, watching the deep ink blue of the night sky give way to the light azure of the morning. The first sunrise I had seen in a long time. The caffeine worked its magic and finally I made the transition from nocturnal to insomniac. This time, it was "Love Washes Over (Airwave remix) by Art Of Trance (link) that echoed in the cavern that is my skull. I imagine if I ever got high, this is what it would feel like (@Sara: calm down, I'm not going to get high. Ever.)

Now, I was thinking of everything. Clarity. I thought of the future. This time no worrying. It could just be the lack of sleep, but I seemed to have that optimism that I lost long ago. This optimism however had lost its taint of naivety. I thought of the reality I had seen in the past two years and how I had dealt with it. What I had to do, what lay ahead was clear. This time there was no confusion. There was nothing to be confused about. It's all up to me what I choose to do ahead. I even thought of the blog and the forum attached to it. As far as the blog goes, I know that the reason I make random posts is because that is the zone where I feel comfortable. I prefer to deal with the abstract, Sara does a better job at the concrete. I'm the dreamer, she's the thinker. I'm the idealist, she's the realist. I'm allegro, and she is vivace. Posts about nothing, yet kind of about something are my niche. I know that now.

As me and my mother stepped outside to give the brothers some time to talk, my thoughts switched to the forum. The pale light of dawn greeted us accompanied by the cold morning air. I was still playing in the recesses of my own mind as my mother and I talked. To someone else I may have appeared distant and uninterested, but my mother knew what I was up to, how could she not, and she knew not to disturb me when I'm like that. So, we walked, keeping the conversation going, me intermittently counting off the gun shots I heard in the distance and my mind thinking of the forum. I wanted to make a community, but I was wrong to think that it would just grow itself. It's going to take effort on my part. Anam, Sidra, Abbas and Osama, thanks for taking the time to comment on the forum. Omair, thank you for taking the time to actually read the entire blog and comment as well. I promise you I'll be participating actively in the forum myself from now on.

The whole experience ended with an emotional brotherly hug in front of the international departure lounge of the Islamabad International Airport (NOT the Benazir Bhutto International Airport) and with me writing this post at 7:00 in the morning. At this point I don't know if this was all a dream or not, but I guess I'll find out when I see the blog after I wake up.

Talha A. B.

Cricket, we (try to) love you

Given the recent events, there is no way that we could not make a post about cricket. I'm not going get into stats and in depth analysis. We're a cricket loving nation and we're packed from border to border with overzealous fans. Toss a cricket ball and chances are you'll end up hitting an "expert". I'm not that guy. I'm the guy who will duck just in time to dodge that ball. To summarize, at the risk of re-awakening horrible memories, Pakistan lost to India in the semis. Yes it's true. It wasn't a bad dream.

It was an interesting tournament to say the least. Not many held high hopes for team Pakistan. Understandable, given their performance since 2003. Still, if the fire didn't burn too brightly, there were still those lingering embers that just never get extinguished. The men in green defied expectations and gave a performance that fanned the sparks to bright flame once again.

For a month, everything seemed to be alright. There was no terrorism, no rotting politics, no economy going to hell. Everyone was happy, content and green with patriotism. For a month, we were all a nation. Everyones interest peaked. Thats the conundrum I suppose. When we expect nothing from our team, they'll go out and do something impossible. When we're all cheering them on, they don't do so well. Maybe next time we don't watch the tournament and just celebrate when the boys bring the cup home?

One thing that I did notice, people didn't get angry this time. Sure, there was the usual post-match depression the next day, but there was no display of rage. The reason being, that the team didn't really do anything wrong this time. After a long time, they seem to be back on track. A team that everyone wrote off in the qualifiers made it to the semis. No one can say that this time they lost due to lack of trying. There was no ugly controversy this time and no coach fatalities. It was all about cricket.

We could have all used a win. Like a pain killer, it would have numbed the effects of everything going on around us. Perhaps this is a positive result of the defeat. It will be easier to get back to dealing with the problems at home. All our battles lie not on a cricket pitch and Jazba does not just belong in Mohali.

Talha A. B.

Disposable income, where art thou?

As I stepped out today, the air seemed different. It wasn't the same biting cold that it had been for the past wintery months. It was laced with a healthy yellow glow from the shining sun. The sky was just the right shade of light blue. The weather had changed. That was enough to remind me of all the things that have been changing recently. Life is at a peculiar stage right now, like a desert engulfed in a sandstorm everything is shifting and changing and what lies ahead is not so clear. I'll tell you one other thing thats changing. The damn prices.

Inflation is biting away at everyones heels right now and if our wallets were girls then they would be ecstatic because they are slimming down fast. I can't count the number of times me and my friends have walked into a nice looking establishment, sat down, looked at the prices and then had a brainstorming session on how to walk out without making our financial situation apparent to anyone. Usually it involves "I dunno, nothing on the menu strikes me as interesting, we'll be back in five minutes". Oh yeah, we've done that. Don't you dare judge me..... and stop giving me that look. A lesson to the uninitiated, walk in, ask for the menu, do not under any circumstance sit down, if the prices seem manageable given the funds at hand park your behind on the nearest table, else use the "5 minute" line mentioned above, remember to thank TAB later.

So while me and a friend (henceforth, Adeel) were discussing the trials and tribulations of the life of a trainee at work it was inevitable that the topic of our pay package (don't ask) and the prices today would come up. An idea hit us, both of us having studied economics vaguely remembered that time when we were half awake in class and managed to hear the teacher say "blah blah blah consumer price index blah blah blah inflation". For those who might not know about what the consumer price index (CPI) is, I'll try to wrap it up in a single line. A CPI is a list on which the prices of various items are listed and tracked over time to get an idea of the prevailing rate of inflation in the country. If you're the Sherlock Holmes type and thats not enough for you then you can always do this or this. Back on point; me and Adeel remembered consumer price index and decided to make our own little index, the Student Price Index.

And now the curious wonder what the Student Price Index is? Well, the Student Price Index (henceforth, the SPI) is a list on which items vital to the student/trainee are listed and their prices are tracked over time to get an idea of the prevailing rate of inflation the student/trainee must endure in his academic life. Driven to help students everywhere, we set out to create the SPI that as of yet existed only in our heads. After hours of interviews, calculations and research, the SPI was turned into reality. The fruits of our labour are shown below.

So there you go. Now you know what you're up against. Time to go to parliament and start a discussion on what to do about this grave issue. To explain a bit on whats going on above, the items selected are those that the student finds themselves dealing out cash for the most. The year 2010 is selected as the base year because well, no one remembered how much a roll paratha cost back in 2000 (Rs. 45, FYI). The prices of the same items in the year 2011 are listed as well and the change over one year is calculated to arrive at the figure for inflation. But it doesn't stop there. The items are also given a weightage according to how important they are. To explain the concept of weightage, items that are considered closer to being necessities get a high weightage. Luxury items get a low weightage. Why is this done? Well, a 50% increase in the price of a Bentley may not have everyone reconsidering sending their child to college but a 50% increase in the price of wheat is a surefire way to start a revolution in the country. The result of this economics lesson is that the inflation rate comes out to 27%. Fun fact, that actually is the inflation rate of our country at the moment (so you know we did a good job :D). However, after weighting, for us students the inflation rate is somewhat closer to 20%.

The SPI is something that just started out as a joke and the list is in no way complete. But it was a fun exercise and I'm actually interested making it into a proper index so I would love feedback on the matter. For one, having a full and proper list of items that students and trainees spend their money on is important. Second, this is actually the work of two guys, so the list doesn't take into account items that the girls would normally spend on. You can leave a comment or make a post on the forum (highly recommended).

The updated version of the SPI can always be found here. For now, tis time to wrap up this post and return to dreaming of that big paycheck that I'll hopefully be collecting someday.

Talha A. B.

Stop and Stare

This might sound entertaining but honestly what i'm about to discuss here is not short of being an epidemic itself. My dears, I talk about the one and only "STARING" habit which is such an inborn "value" that it sort of accompanies ethnic origin at birth. Face it, WE are a curious nation. We were born wide eyed and even now the existence of the opposite gender never ceases to amaze us. Of course the main problem is girls complaining about the full body scan rather than the other way around. I mean, face it, if a guy catches a girl looking at him intently, with a silly one corner smile he is more likely to puff up his chest than to tug at lose hair strands. BUT there are both sides to a discussion and boys, I will do you justice.

Every Pakistani woman is aware of the fact that when she leaves the house she will be scanned from head to toe by any male individual who frequents her path. If you think its because of wearing something provocative, well think again. I'm not saying thats not a big way to get yourself "hounded" but generally no beauty, height, weight or amount of layers has anything to do with it. And honestly who are we to define provocative; it is too relative. So yes take a walk and start the count; the security guard of the house up front, two teenagers returning from tuition, the regular uncle on a cycle, the guy fixing some phone line, the the shopkeeper, regular suited corporate guy driving down the road, etc. It is like this paranoia that the woman has come to ignore and even accept.

This was a sensitive issue to write on. Though common enough, Miss Q here had to search high and low for answers, talk openly to her male acquaintances as to the reason behind this predicament and observe others all the same being victimised herself. My question, "WHY?". The answer "instinct". The answer took me back to this article I read in the Readers' Digest once about attraction in general. Basically what that article said was, the guy and the girl "size" each other up. Any person, man or woman carries with them this compatibility criteria and when they come across someone who fits that criteria it creates this invisible thread of connection between them. Think about it, if the staring guy's good looking you're not THAT unpleased and well if he's not he's just a shameless loser with no respect for women isn't he? The thing is girls, half of the time you and me don't realise that we give out these signals of approval. I'm not saying such instinct is wrong. It is this instinct that is enabling the population to grow this rapidly.

But look here, there HAS to be something about Pakistan that's different right. What about, say the European countries. Did their hormones get exhausted? Its weird how we claim to be more loyal since most of us stay hitched to the same guy/girl post/pre mid-twenty's age till the time one of the spouses passes away. I get how the single generation scours the market but what I don't get is how every man AND woman doesn't become blurry for a guy/girl when he/she has chosen one to be there forever. It is outrageous, the crimes being done on the name of religion but noone knows the basics OF the religion. I might only be touching "looking" but we all know its an area open for creativity and physicality.

And girls, despite what i said about provocative clothing being a relative term, we all know our cultural limits now don't we. If we exceed those limits we are compelling the male population to to go gaga. Even though speaking from the sisterhood I know how inappropriately some female individuals have come to behave. Like, VERY inappropriate. If the girl deserves to be left alone and not harrassed then the guys deserve less impetus to invoke certain desires. Sometimes I feel its the lack of entertainment that this happens; either its too pricey or too scarce. Of course this somewhat justifies the labour, working class but NOT the "Burger bachay". "Poondi" as the guys like to call it is a social event held at strategic spots usually in large groups. They're easy to spot, mostly at "open" eateries, a bit dressed up, facing the same direction and they usually won't buy anything to eat since they might need to change location at some indefinite time. Then come the "Poondi approvers", girls, mostly young, giggly, basically what the audience is facing and having the silly notion that its because they are so hot/pretty. *sigh*. Oh and they too shall refrain from eating since they consider it a turnoff. What as waste, pass me those fries!

So here i am taking everyone's side. Im so great aren't I? The thing is God created the woman to be loved and respected , not pieced down by body proportions. That's the way it is; the woman needs more respect in this regard than the man because of who and what she is. See, I cannot under any circumstances open my gate at 12 am and walk down to some corner shop 5 minutes away while maybe a guy can. So yeah, just because a woman is apparently admiring someone's bulgy muscles doesnt give the muscle man the same right. (Oh please don't whine, you guys get to do more fun stuff ALREADY). The gist of it is, admire the beauty of the human being, single them out but be DISCREET, or else very soon you lose respect and ultimately credibility. There's admiration and then there's harrasment. Of course the labouror breaking down the road will never read this but maybe some high-ups will and thus serve as an example. Now run off my kids, I pronounce you brothers and sisters. Kidding! :P

Until next time, this is Sara Q thinking of getting some well deserved sleep!

I've seen this already

It is only as we age that we realize how wonderful childhood can be. It is at that time that our mind experiences one of the most wonderful feelings it can. That is, the feeling of discovering something new. Once we become accustomed to life and living such moments are few and far apart. I've recently rediscovered this feeling, though not because I've found or learned something new but because I've been shown and reminded of what it used to be like. You see, right now I'm living in a house with four babies. Four noisy, clever, hilarious, excitable, annoying, cute babies. Its hard to explain but watching these little guys kick, scream and raise hell is fun. It takes me back to that time when every single thing I saw was new and exciting, every little thing was a huge catalyst for the imagination. The world was still full of mystery back then.

I'm still somewhat of a child I guess. I'm always looking for something new to experience and when I find it I get bored with it fast. The list of things I've started and never finished is a very long one. Just a few things off the top off my head that are on the said list: tennis, horse riding, golf, guitar playing, dj-ing, making a website, drawing a comic, photography, writing a short story and making an award winning video game. Its always the same. I stumble upon something, I'm overcome with excitement, I work at it for a while and then the interest wanes till finally I move on to something else.

The thrill of starting something new is indescribable. I was extremely enthusiastic when I started this blog but like all my previous endeavors my interest began to fade. But, all is well now, for some odd reason I can't bring myself to quit. As I've discovered recently, a creative Talha equals a happy Talha. So, these days I find myself rediscovering things that I had abandoned a while ago and what I've realized is, no matter how many times you do something, it can always surprise you. Any activity or hobby, whatever you want to call it, is like getting to know someone. When you find out that you are somewhat compatible there is that initial excitement and as you go along you keep discovering new things about them. You get surprised at every turn. Of course there are the occasional rough spots, but commitment is what carries you through.

So, these days its all about starting where I left off. Its not the same as that feeling that we have in our childhood when we experience something new. It's a more different feeling but different doesn't mean bad. The point is, our experience in life changes how we experience life. What we look for and what we find is different. We've seen so much that we think its hard to be surprised anymore. We're wrong. So, what this means for now is that I get back to dj-ing and story writing. I introduced myself to them a long time ago and its time I got to know them a bit better.

Hopefully the next post won't be as random,
Talha A. B.