The Word of mAn[S]o0r

Through the fingers of my hand have eons passed,
I spend my nights thinking of my love,
have angels passed, and even djinns slipped through,
And all my days dreaming of her too

I read this on a Bank Alfalah Calendar i received recently. The calendar is an ode to Saadeqain, one of the great artists of our country, and this verse comes alongside one of his paintings intended to bring the piece to life.

Even though i dont think about it too much, there are times when that feeling overwhelms me and threatens even my sanity. The quick, clean nature of the transaction did not help, if anything, it helped reinforce my reasons for staying away from commitments.

I hope that someday, i’ll get an answer from her… to whether being right and not giving in on one crucial subject was worth it.

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Day before yesterday, while watching an episode of House (i love that show!) a scene between wilson and his latest girl, amber, caused me to have an epiphany.

the dialogs exchanged were something of the following, after a major decision of purchasing a mattress, amber wanted the hard one while wilson wanted the soft one and just as they were coming to decision amber had to leave and told wilson to get whatever one he wanted. later that night, while ‘test driving’ their new mattress…

amber: “you got the one i wanted”

wilson: “yes, i did”

amber: “why?”

wilson: “what do you mean?”

amber: “i told you to get which ever one you wanted, i meant which ever one you wanted, not get what i wanted”

wilson: “so? i like doing this for you, i love you”

amber: “no, this is what you did with your previous wives, you keep on doing things for them and the resentment keeps building up inside you, till you end up in a divorce! i’ll be damned if this happened to me too”

and just like that i realized why so many of my relationships ended on the same note… i, like wilson, kept doing everything for the other person and around the other person, literally loosing myself in them. i kept building up this expectation in them that everything i would do would be for them without question. until i burst from having an unfulfilled expectation within me that they would do something for me… which is where the resentment would start to build up…

and after days, months or even years of resentment… the feelings of love and tenderness would turn cold and replaced with something very close to hatred…

… who said watching TV shows wasn’t therapeutic!

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… you discuss the emotional dependence of addicts with a 13 year old, and think that you are actually having an intelligent conversation!? especially when the poor girl is just looking blankly at you and nodding because its impolite to tell you that you are a jerk

So april has ended and that too on a very hectic note!

I had two trainings this month, one in Lahore and one in Islamabad. The good thing is, both of them happened successfully and we managed to scrape up enough participants to not go in the red! Even though lahore had three times the people we did here in isloo!

What that left me with, however, was exhaustion! The likes of which i have never felt before! By the time the training in lahore was over, i was feeling like someone had tied a 10 ton anvil to my ankles and forcing me to move around. On top of that, i had to catch a daewoo back home, and 4 hours of sitting awkwardly wasn’t much fun either.

To add insult to injury, or rather more injury to insult, I had bought new shoes for the Lahore course! which, being what new shoes are, left me with blisters! (I HATE NEW SHOES!!!). On both my feet, i’ve now got these big, liquid oozing bubbles which i keep on bursting and draining and which miraculously, keep on fixing themselves and re-inflating!

The next training was one day later, and this time, i didn’t wear the new shoes, but rather my trusty old ones. By the end of it, i knew i was way past being tired and exhausted and was now running on pure adrenaline.
So much so that on the drive back home, i almost crashed into the car in front of me (a cultus i believe) nearly 4 times! (he noticed and suffice it to say, gave me a really cold look when we parted ways)

Once home, i was looking forward to some shuteye as the parents were going out to dinner. After chatting with dad for sometime, i was about to pick up my things and head upstairs… when the hostess for the evening called and informed my father that the invitation was now “with family” and to please bring their son (the now adrenaline running poor old me) as well! Normally, i would’ve said no and gone to sleep, but this particular party was being held at….wait for it…. PIR SOHAWA! more specifically at the new Monal restaurant there! Now i knew there was no way i was going to pass up an opportunity to a) go to pir sohawa, since i hadn’t yet been up there.. and b) free food!!! so i picked myself up, changed and got in the car!

And that is where i had the discussion with the 13 year old, who just happened to be the daughter of our hostess!

And it was worth every word of it! till next time… cheers!

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When you think about it, stress is just a fiction of your imagination. Unless you specifically focus on something, it cant really get to you…

Only, the human body doesn’t see it that way. The subconscious has a very funny way of manifesting things which are brewing just under the surface, and when it bubbles over, it comes to the surface with such intensity that you are left wondering what the hell just happened.

I’ve developed a capability, or at least i think its a capability, to filter out certain thoughts, events and actions happening around me, a technique I call selective amnesia. It was based on the principle that if i don’t focus on it, it cant affect me. Over the years, I’ve been  using it and advocating this technique to all and sundry as a very good method of living life. To quote a character, emma, from one of my new favourite tv show hotel babylon, ‘you’re making me unhappy charlie, and im a happy person’ just before she broke up with him, one shouldn’t let anyone or anything, much less any thought, to make them unhappy.

The principle is sound, and it serves me quite well in most cases.

Then there are some cases where it just breaks down… where the subconscious, bubbling with repressed feelings, finally tips over the limit and gushes out in a tepid mess of emotions. Suddenly, you see murphy’s law coming true all around you, that ‘anything which can go wrong, will go wrong and in the worst possible way’ and you look for scape goats, you look for someone to place the blame on and you search for that sliver of hope to keep your sanity intact.

It can’t be you, you rationalize. After all, you weren’t even thinking about it… and that nothing has happened in the last couple of weeks, months or even years which would justify things going wrong for you! but if you aren’t careful, this very rationalization consumes you… to such a degree that you are lost within the world of make believe that selective amnesia gave rise to.

You don’t see the forest for the tree’s…

You don’t see the underlying causes…

You just lash out and whoever’s near or dear…

And you start twirling helplessly in the vicious cycle that your life has just become…

.

.

.

until you forget about it and move on, because you’ve mastered the technique of selective amensia.

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not really sure how much of this post applies here, but im going to post it anyway. i read a very interesting quote on this comment thread which goes something like this

Knowledge is knowing that a tomato is a fruit. Wisdom is not using it in a fruit salad.

so very true, for those who would understand its implications!

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this is taking longer than i thought………

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I’ve been associated with metblogs for over two years, consistently blogging local events in a manner which would consistent with the theme of the site.

Lately, however, they’ve lost their charm. For an organization which promotes ‘localization’, they’ve much to learn about what it means.

You simply cannot impose your will or your style onto the world at large, without taking in considerations local culture, traditions and norms. And of course, your local readership.

With the rollout of their new platform, the powers that be decided to impose commenter registration. Why? In answer to ‘flame wars’ which were happening in a few select cities. Karachi was one of them. But has the situation changed? No! The people who were flaming are still at it, now armed with accounts, they continue to molest authors, bash each other and be, in general, a rowdy lot.

Who’s affected? The casual reader, who could’ve become part of the commenting crowd, but is now turned off by the fact they will have to go through an ardous registration process, as well as remember yet another password!

Many other cities around the metblogs networks have also been crying out against this, on the forums, on the mailing lists and on their own blogs, but what does the HQ have to say?

Put up or get out!

Personally, i cannot give my time and writings to support an organization which seeks (in literal terms) to dominate their will onto others. In this fashion, they’ve literally become an ‘american’ business, rather than a global business.

I had fun while i was there, and have made a group of very good friends whom (inshallah) i’ll carry on with for life. However, i’ve chosen today to resign from the network and bid farewell to the insidious rulings of the clique which i no longer choose to be part of.

Good bye metblogs!

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only one more to go…

not bad for a one week period, if i do say so myself.

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Simli dam is one of those gems, hidden deep among the mountains, that this region is so famous for. I wanted to write about my last trip to this wonderful, peaceful reservoir but couldn’t so here goes.

Once you leave the Islamabad highway, and cross a variety of farms down the long winding road, you come across a barrier where you would have to prove your identity. Simli dam is a sensitive area, because it supplies the water to the city of Islamabad. Therefore, its not open to public, however you can get a reservation if you have contacts within the CDA.

After crossing the barrier, there’s a short climb up another winding road to where the reservoir and guest house are located. The whole feel to the place is authentic, even rustic. With British era construction style rampant along the northern regions, it gives you a little taste of Britain all on its own.

Once you get up to the guesthouse, a breathtaking view greets you. On one side, there is the reservoir, a lake as far as the eye can see, with a calm surface and gentle lapping sounds, it takes you into a whole new region of relaxation within yourself.

On the other side, is the deep expanse of the green hills and valleys allowing the eyes to exercise.

A truly breathtaking sight, and one which pictures will never do justice.

A nice relaxing tea with parents and cousin, talking about nothings, eating good food (our cook really knows how to make sandwiches!) and laughing and merriment all around.

The trip was capped with a stroll along the reservoir bank, and down the winding road with its tree covered canopies, beautiful wild flowers and all the scents which make the mountains a truly beautiful place to be.

(If possible, i’ll upload some pictures later)

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A great poet, Zeeshan Sahil passed away a couple of days ago. I met the gentleman only one time in my life, at a reading that was held at t2f. He was in a wheelchair, had to be assisted by a couple of people, yet even that did not diminish his charisma. If anything, it added to it. Although i didn’t understand much of what he read, the parts i did understand were mesmerizing.

It was also the day a new chapter of my life had started. How fitting that chapter also closed with the demise of this great man.

Good bye Mr. Zeeshan, you will be missed.

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