Excerpts - Book of D

Ah!

2008-07-10T07:23:00.002-05:00

I hope this will bring me back in this game. I have to be. I am wasting myself, but referrring to my usual self deprecating self, i never really had much to waste. Let's see what happens.

New Post

2007-08-02T08:21:00.000-05:00

You wake up in the morning and feel like it is a bright new day, then you clamber out of your bed and feel good. This feeling of goodness lasts till you get to the office and then suddenly vanishes.
You are walking in the desert and its really hot, till you feel you can't even hear anything anymore. All you hear, feel, think, is silence. Nothing else.. you know, somewhere in the back of your head, subconciously that you were not alone, there was someone trailing you. Someone tagging along, or maybe you were tagging along with them, but they slowed down, cause they should have and so should have you.
It's a totally new place, in life as well as geographically, but you were over eager and you overran the guide, the life, the chances. You were not only way before time, but got there so early, so eager, that by the time opportunity came by, you were bored and you had left. Sucked in by the quicksand. The guide avoided it, because he or she slowed down. You were in a hurry to get there, and you lost.
I am not one to say that haste makes waste, but looking skywards while walking on the ground never works. Sooner or later you are bound to trip, and it hurts the most whence you do and realise that everybody was watching you. Is it that everybody is watching you? or is it that fools tend to get more of people's attention.
There is a sickening in your gutt followed by tightening of the muscles, spasms...bile rises up. You damn well know are sick. But of what? Yourself? Life? Life is naught but what you have made of it uptil now. Oh sure, you had a bad period, than some good. But that is what life of an average person is. Some luck, some fortune, followed by misfortune. Cyclical movement almost follows the lunar pattern. Then why the sickness? is it desperation, realisation of the impeding meeting with the angel of death? Answers always escaping, always so near.
Maybe it is the thought, the possibility of success that keeps people going. The close proximity of the end, lurking in the shadows, in the sub concious the driving force, to which we keep our eyes and mind closed.

The sorry state of consciousness

2007-06-24T04:25:00.000-05:00

I proceeded after much ado on my yearly sabatical around the mid of February, exactly one year after i joined the organisation i currently slae for. The vacations were decent enough in themselves, food as always back home (Pakistan - Lahore) is great. The best ever, if i might say so, provided you are a risk taking sort of a person and dont mind the occasional heart attack due to nerve popping levels of cholestrol and fat and fat and cholestrol. I think those are the main ingredients of heaven. Those two and red meat. A place where you can devour those to relish, without the fear of cardiac arrest is a place called heaven.

However, i came back from my little heaven of oil rich food in the mid of March, and i see that the city has changed. Its turned bloody turtle on me. Complete transformation to the life style for my friends and I.

We have been on a constant party roll for the past three months. And by constant, i mean constant, i kid thee not! It all started when a friend of a friend came over from abroad for around 15 days. So we all felt obliged (initially) to take the poor person around the town. I was initially a bit grumpy, cause after 10.30 pm i thought my time for beauty sleep had begun and was now being effectively being ruined due to the continuing clubbing or bar hopping or dinner (which ever was on the menu). The activities were mostly culinary related, with most or all of the participants involved in eating or drinking or both. Even during the movies, the food never stopped. Doesn't sound like much fun does it? Wait a week... The party hours grew in length, initially it was till 12.00 and then extended time was awarded and the last one week (of that friend's stay) it was uptil the clubs would close down and they kicked our sorry assess out, oh around 3.00 am, on a weekday, from an empty club. At one point, there were only fifteen people in the club. Seven of us, and the rest of the eight were random people who didnt know what they were doing or where they were. Bloody tourists.

So the friend left, but the party syndrome had sunk its claws so deep that we have yet to be able to free ourselves from the talons of delerium. What shall follow this rant above will be a detailed story of how each weekend passed over us like heavy trucks and how it left some of us wanting more (greedy bastards) and the rest were left questioning the truth of what had occurred, or whether it had occurred at all??

on a lighter day

2007-06-03T12:09:00.000-05:00

Dark, dark is the night

Couldn’t see the light if we were blind

Close the window, the wind is fresh

Thoughts polluting such beauty

Awake till dawn, await the beast

Let it come and take me

Wait a little more

Oh life tear me, take me

Does this pain mean?

Is it meaningless like its master?

Tame me, claim me

End this lavish misery

Friend & Foes come & go

Take a piece of me, a bit of you

Leaving a shell full of smiles & tears

Sharing, giving an overflowing sea of fear

Broken, bruised, cruising

Single minded passion, obsessing

Loving, hating, living, dying

Waiting

I feel a subject to the devil’s delusions

Let me see you, the you behind the subterfuge

Obliterate this mirage, these tears you shed

Bring me to us, me to you, the true ending of life

Bending the light you end this illusion.

The Re-Return

2007-05-31T11:21:00.001-05:00

I am back.
So help you God!

Man Captures Carla, Man likes to stare

2006-12-31T11:58:00.000-05:00

Does it really matter that a new year has started, that the earth has finished one orbit around the sun and has started along a new one it is prehistoric, endless circling of the ball of nuclear fires. Does it make a difference how many times it has done so before today or after death?

I don’t know whether it makes any difference or not, but the world is out partying tonight and will continue to do so tomorrow (my tomorrow) for the sun will come up on a different time zone then. Hence a lot of partying, booze, E, Acid, Mushrooms dying before maybe they had wanted to die. Loads of food to be had, to be thrown up, upholsteries to be cleaned, hangovers to be hung over. Drinks to be made, to be had, to be pissed away, hearts beating faster and faster, till the time comes, the gauntlet has been thrown, the leaves taken, tickets bought, outfits fitted, cars with inflated tires. Tomorrow is so far away, but is coming quickly.

I can’t see straight, too tired, not drunk, I remembered I don’t do that, but still life sometimes gets to your head and then forgets where its at and refuses to come back down. Stuck up there like a scared little cat, stuck in a tree. Is it scared to come back down, or is it bored, or does it see a bird worth its while. Why oh why does it climb out on that bloody limb to begin with?

Am now leaving to attend the bloody Paul Oakenfold concert which I hope is good enough to pass the night, or else I will have to come back, because it is like everything else you face on this planet. You can sue, cuss, fuss, but you can either

a) never get your moneys worth

b) if you do you are too high to remember the good times, hence you don’t remember getting your money’s worth

c) If you do remember you are the only one to do so and when you grow old you are lonely with those memories

d) You have fun but piss everything away

e) You don’t have any thing and still piss what you have away, after you borrowed it.

After doing all of the mind boggling stuff to yourself, yes you do it to yourself, no one did it to you, no one can destroy you unless you want in on it. The self destruct button is the most attractive button on life’s console, you sit down and start the blame game, or you blame yourself, and vow not to let it happen, or give up and let it happen. Either way, life passes on, through out all the musings and amusements, life continues to tick away. Doesn’t it? And sleep comes at night, like a ghost, like a drug, like death itself.

2006-11-18T05:08:00.000-05:00

would someone put out the lights
blot out the sun, make it dark
blinding lights, blinding me
tripping on my thoughts that i can't see

They said they would come and
take me from here
no one has come now
i lie in fear that they will

take me, take me far away
there here sometime or never
beggars they say cant be choosers
a place where life is delivered

(Excerpt - Book of D)

For old times sake

2006-11-01T09:02:00.000-05:00

Twisted thoughts flowing

Sleeping they were,

Don’t know what gave them wings

Shame, embarrassment, lies and deceit

Head in knees

The little boy is crying

His soul is dying

With every word that is said

Between every line

Leave it all behind

Refuse to resign

Ourselves to truth that drowns inside

Forever gone innocence

Slipping like tears

All shame and fears

Stripped of garb and cloth

Naked flesh, strutting the streets

Flushed with egos

The sea is rising

To meet the moon

Spell it out, it reads soon

The tide is high

But its only noon

The little boy cries,

Singing with his soul

She leaves him now

The sun is cold

A mother wishing his hunger away

Not knowing what hurts so

She is such a fool

You can’t get what you wish for

It never works that way

We get what we deserve

The devil sings as he may

The sun shall rise

On someone’s day

Tears will fall

Where someone’s love once lay

They all still lie

Waiting to die

Thinking, of days gone by

When the young were shy

Some would laugh, while some would lie

For every lie, someone would die

The moon wept, seas rose high

The world grows cold

And the sky just dies

The little boy cries

His mother to him lies

Wait a bit longer

Dinner just arrives

Let the kid sleep, she begs

Deep,

Somewhere deep

Where every dream dies, where he is not alone

Where every one cries

Summer City blooos

2006-05-17T14:20:00.000-05:00

Yes, sir...i know i know, it has been a long time that i wrote. This time around it is owing more to circumstances than merely my laziness, which truth be told, is in itself off legendary status. Work has started on full throttle now, but from what i hear it is going to run out of diesel pretty quickly. The weather is getting ass hot ass it does in the desert at this time of the year. Really, if the equator had physical existence, i would have maimed it to the lack of any recognition. I would seriously have rearranged the map. No one would have been able to tell if the destroyed piece of land or whatever used to be the equator or whatever. AHHHHHHHHH!!!! i can now safely (because the room is airbleedinconditioned) say that the hottest thing i have been close to is the ...EQUATOR...why? well, provided we ignore that lady in the elevator with me last night. Now, umm, she didnt seem drunk, or intoxicated in any visible, detectable, smellable manner, however it seemed that she had left her place in a hurry and had either forgot to fully undress, or dress. It was like looking at a car or a VCR that had fallen off the assembly line, somewhere in the middle, so that now it could perform the basest of functions, but very barely so. If you dont mind my pun.

Anyways, so the work has started, it is usually the busiest this time of year, because they try and finish everything before the extreme summers (yes, i have found out it can get worse). Once everything, every loan is processed, and done with, the approvers and the processors, they take a leave and periodically start leaving the country on paid leaves for more moderately placed places on the map.

I think if someone had drawn the map a bit correctly the summers would be better in Dubai. Afterall it is mind over matter. I hear it rains a lot in England and some of the rest of United Kingdom, but that the weather is still better than the adjoining countries, i really have no way to confirm that at the moment. However, having seen the extremes of both, rainy weather (monsoon) and extreme dry weather in Lahore, coupled with rainy and dry winters (before i came to dubai, lahore saw its coldest, and showed me a bit of it as well, with the mercury dropping to below 5 degrees centigrades). A city where you get a maximum of about 50 degrees over a period of 3 months or so, can get so cold...is very surprising and fun. Because despite all the cold, the sun is beautiful, and warm, and the keenus (tangerines+Maltas+Sangtaras), with salted spices are a superb delight.

After all that babbling, i think Summer, in a desert that is right next to the sea is worse than everything (weather wise), you may freeze to death on the arctic, but look on the bright side, you will have a cool smile on your gob AND, your descendants can make a lot of money outta you, once they find your perfectly frozen body. Hell, maybe they could even clone you and put you next to the T-Rex and other extinct things that they have cloned. God gave the Arabs oil, because He had to compensate them with something. The arctic population has the poalr bears, and penguins, Norway has oil, and north pole has moby dick and blubber. The Arabs have OIL and now America has a bit of it. The Arabs deserve it. I was reading that this place has been mostly desert since a few thousand years. That my dear friends is a lot of desert!

I am really not very tired, but i feel like i have run a thousand miles, i cant feel my legs, most probably because i have been sitting in the same bloody position for the past three hours, watching the download bar on Absolute Power download and listeing to .... Soundgarden - SuperUnknown...ah the man has a beautiful voice.

Desert Land Flus

2006-03-16T10:50:00.000-05:00

oh yea babies, it is gettin hotter here now, surprisingly the nights are still on the nicer side of cool. But who cares, it has already been a month. I remember distinctly that the last time when i was here, which was in september, to look for the job that i now have, it took a whole year for the month to pass. This time around it was more like a fortnight. The time i spent looking for an apartment, finding and then trying to get a loan to pay for an apartment, moving from the apartment hotel to the apartment, it all just flew past. whoosh...and now there is a sudden gap.

.......

It sometimes gets so silent that i can here the silence itself. Yes it does have a sound to it.

Anyways, the apartment i found is now the apartment i have, it is very strategically placed, right behind the Burjaman Center. My office, is on Khalid bin Waleed road, so it is pretty much a ten minute stroll in the morning and a fifteen minute relaxed crawl on the way back. My room mate is not at home till late at night so those nights are either spent at the spinneys coffee shop, or star bucks. There is no other place that i know of that i could just walk to and just sit, and not waste good money on cabs just yet. if you dont have a car, then you need more than just the WILL to travel.

Anyways, we went to IKEA, around four times, then some "PERSON" told us to go to Pan Emirates, and that it was just after the FOURTH interchange on sheikh zayed road. Well it was, if you were coming FROM the fourth interchange. Cost us around 100 dhms of my furniture budget to go there and reject the bloody furniture...it was truly Gawdy. You have to see it to believe it. At last, after a one month search, we decided IKEA was the only decent bloody solution, got the furniture and got enough of it for them to come over and assemble it for us lazy assess.

So the furniture is now set, the lounge all cleaned up, and the expenses as i calculated from Back home are now suddenly sky high, and now i have to adjust to that. Roll with the bleedin punches they say, hell couldn't do otherwise even if i tried. The punches are coming in thick and fast.

I will continue rolling, if nothing else, and dishing it out here, forgive me if it all sounded boring, cause that is the way i feel at the moment.

Bored.

I have not been able to drive for the past one month now. That is my one relief. My one getaway from my ... self.

NEW TOWN WELCOMING COMMITTEE

2006-02-13T12:58:00.000-05:00

yes, my dear ladies and gentlemen, i have finally reached Dubai. The whole moving out into the new big bad world has just sunk in. i would like to say that it feels like lead in my lower belly. but it doesnt. i am just anxious to find an apartment, and they are pretty expensive and hard to find here. i am thinking international city cause they are cheaper and i might just end up saving some money. however to do that successfully i will have to leave home half an hour early to reach office on time. the same goes for my room mate to be. he will have to face horrendous bus changes, to get to his university. anyways. at a friend's place right now...the lap top's battery is not going to last long and i am too tired to get up and plug the cable. so signing out for now. and hopefully i will be able to write the next post from my own apartment from my own computer.

Whatever you wish it to be

2006-02-06T04:45:00.000-05:00

Move Through the…..

Mountains & Caverns & Lakes

And the sky is so blue

Water is wet and life is wrong

And death is so true

I follow you until I see the

Red horizon fade into you

And I believe the truth

Then you speak to me saying

Hey you know

Love is such a cannibal

Eating at it's own core

Existence

Marred, oppressive, life, deliverance

Does it matter?

If it is true

All are deceiving, no one caring

My pain is real, your happiness is untrue

And they follow you

And you show the garden

Of temptation of destruction

Of destruction of temptation

Over flowing seas of emotion

Dying, crying, waves of seas

Beating

Beating the burning shore

Taking bits & pieces of

The rocks that lie bare to it's violence

And see the moon shining down

Is it a smile or a frown

Life is seeping, slipping

Out of hand, never held what

You couldn't understand

Never tried, never thought

Never sought, never fought

and the wind intones, sings
everything is not dead, all is not gloom
there rides life, beyond the doom
death can't end what has not lived
last shimmers of the dress
that the moon wore
The sun creeps out of a broken door
Illuminating souls on a virgin shore.

Cold Feet, Smoking Chimneys and Sleevless Heavenly Bodies!

2006-01-07T04:20:00.000-05:00

I am focused on what I am after
The key to the next open chapter
Cause I found a way to steal the sun from the sky
Long live that day that I decided to fly from the inside

(Shinedown – Fly from the inside)

Here’s the weight of the world on my shoulders. Four straight late night wedding appearences a.k.a back vertical drop slammer, I would cliff jump any day. I have lost all my fear of heights. All because of the wedding. The only thing that scared me of being high (and I mean from the sea level) was that it would really be cold up there and a lack of the perfect mix of oxygen, nitrogen and various burnt and un-burnt hydrocarbons, that constitute the familiar fresh air of my home town. Now that fear remains with me no more, I have seen people feel cold far more than I do. The last night of the wedding, was last night! And we had a ball of a time, the function went smoothly, and we had nothing at all to do with it, which could be one of the reasons for it being smooth. We sat, for once, on a round table, for a bit, had a chat, met the newly wed couple, told the poor old chap to smile, something that he had been doing unavoidably so for the past three days and then we decided to go out for a smoke.

Damn.

It was very cold.

Let me rephrase that.

It was as cold as it can be in Lahore, while standing still and doing nothing. The hands that rocked the cigarettes back and forth were frozen beyond mobility. Man was made to realize the importance of FIRE and respect the concept of Hell (and women) in its totality. One cannot and should not judge the divine. God, reportedly has made a little place with loads of Fire, after last night, I think a lot of sinners would be fearing the time, that God decided that Hell should after all freeze over and be just cold. NOT HOT, JUST COLD.

I know it is irrelevant, pain, whatever sort it may be, as long as it inflicts you is painful. Does it matter whether it is a toothache or renal failure? Of course one might be more embarrassing to explain to the doc than the other. For example, the dude who (as reported by a reliable source, a.k.a the doc herself) went to the MAO Hospital emergency ward, and refused to any treatment by the lady doctor. He had to in the end, because other than her, the most experienced person on board was the cat that had been scampering around for the past two years in the emergency ward (yes this is a still developing country, where by development means the act of stillness).

So anyways, the poor guy turned out to be right, it was embarrassing and he did have a very vital part stuck in a very small ring. WHY? Because at one time it fit, and then due to the vagrant nature of the male anatomy (some parts really do have a mind of their own), it decided to……. Not fit. Talk about getting stuck in a vicious circle.

Well, to get back to the wedding and the height of coldness. Last night was beautiful, I saw people actually airborne, two to three inches at times, it was really that cold and they were really quivering THAT hard. Smoking is BAD for you. I doubt it is the smoke that gives you all those diseases, I think it is the hiding outside, in inhuman weather to smoke that gives you all those things. Also, note to self, Women, should really be ruling instead of Men, I mean they looked goooood. I love all women…well almost, I don’t like the socialist elitist women, but that is another discussion. Yes, women, lovely, SLEEVELESS SHIRTS!!!! WOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO….yes, it makes my head spin faster and hotter than mercury spins around the sun. It sends shivers and thoughts of Man’s inferiority down my spine and then up it again. SLEEVELESS. It is not that they looked sexy or really beautiful (which some did) that rocks, it was the freezing weather, in which they looked so serene. I have seen women brave hot weather with a smile on their face, but that was ALSO with the same dresses. HOW do you girls do that? That is why I want to get married, to learn first hand, too seek out the art of ignoring bad weather, something that even Japanese martial artists cant teach you. To learn, before I die, what lies beneath that (hopefully) creamy skin?

*snap!

Ok…back to reality.

The walima was good, the function went smooth, and we got pictures taken with cold feet, runny red noses which will be a lot blurry because we were vibrating like big upside down, twin bladed tuning forks. We ate food, to fuel the inner fire, some even had fried fish with the sweets, yes, the fish was very good. Then we all went home, after a cup of coffee at 2.00 in the morning, which means we got home at around 3.00 and all the coffee meant that we stayed awake all night.

*”Anything that you have to hide from your parents can’t really be very good for your health, however it doesn’t mean that it would be otherwise if you started telling them about your activities”. Quote – Book of D.

Foggy Nights Tea Cups and Boxer Shorted Escapades

2006-01-03T05:46:00.000-05:00

Last night it was the first really nice full of fog and rain …night. I absolutely loved it. I hear it is never foggy in the desert and despite this lovely weather, here I am, sitting in the office, doing nothing. Nothing at all.

Last night was fun, my room is about a half a kilometer open air trek from the ground floor, it was about three in the morning when I decided I would not be able to get much sleep and got up, waded through the string of dirty mugs, and other stuff that lies around on my bedroom floor. I distinctly remember some of those things moving off their own accord, but hey, it’s so cold, who cares. Also, memo to self, sleeping in boxers alone is all good, waking up in them and getting out of bed. Not so cool. Things shrink. May create mental imbalances and fuel Freudian complexes in lesser individuals. Do not try if you are faint of the heart.

Finally found a decent piece of clothing, decent enough so that I wouldn’t get frost bite, and made my way through the forests of mists and fog to the kitchen downstairs, made myself a cup of tea which required patience and frequent quivering. Turns out that when it is really cold, all you have to do is put the spoon in the mug and the sugar is stirred and the tea cup looks resembles a whirlpool.

Now once you get to the roof, in the Fog, and the eyes can’t really see beyond two meters, one realizes that that is exactly how he has lived all his life. With a limited sight, and anything or anyone that leaves the peripheral vision is left behind. The smell of the Fog is amazing though. It feels strange, as if you are breathing in something that is very much alive and the taste lingers on your taste buds.

And then the memories start chasing you down, of strange things and happenings, of all that is shrouded in more than just this mist that you can see, that you can sift through, of things that are below a more metaphoric Fog, hidden, clawing and scratching away at the cobwebs that pesky little spiders have knit around them. They can’t ever come out, its part of life I guess, and the way it moves and treats you. The past experiences and the shadows, always come out and speak in a way that you actually think for an instance that you can hear what they are saying. It is so good to know that you have more good memories than bad ones, but it takes courage to look beyond the ugly.

The Ugly are lighter and get more attention, men, maybe even women (I have no idea) are pretty shallow when it comes to pain and grievances. We always seem to remember the harder times, spend more time complaining about them, but hardly ever jump for joy enough. I think we should jump for joy every time we get an opportunity to do so. In fact I am jumping right now.

Yes, did my jumping, another memo to self, put the tea cup down before jumping, for the joy lasts not long lest ye put thy cup down. The hand the rocks the cup, burns and despite what people and culture and the bloody philosophers say, the physical scars remain and time doesn’t always heal them, the psychological scars are ones that I do not really care about. Why? Cause I am not built that way. Oh, I might have them, everyone does, but if you really put into the perspective of, Hey! I am going to die in…I don’t know when, then the worries that plagued your mind till then, should really vanish. I think one should care more of what the future holds, not worry much about the past, think about it , yes, please do, but learn from it as much as possible. Learn from other people’s experiences, trust me, you cannot have all the experiences that ten of your friends had separately. If you manage to do all that successfully, call me up and tell me. My current contact number is +923008485933.

If you don’t then keep trying, and one day you shall learn all that is to learn about life, and then it will be time to go. So, some would advocate having fun, loads of it, doing everything that morality, theology and other ologies deny you. But I don’t give a damn about such theories. I say, one should have moral and civic and religious values. Not because they support you, not because they give you excuses for being weak. Being human is excuse enough to need support and care and love and pity and hate and anger or happiness and all the emotions that shift shape faster than a doppelganger. I say we need values because other wise you and I or the person next to you is nothing better than a stray dog, or hyena or some other wild animal. Rather, more like a Pig, because it is a fact that only Pigs; other than human beings, have sex and food upon whim and want and not need to procreate but because they like it and want to have it there and then. So we would be a bunch of STD Infested, gluttonous, two legged stuffed mouthed fornicating PIGS, wouldn’t Pink Floyd just love that.

Telenor - Celebrating 150 Years..of WHAT???

2005-12-07T02:07:00.000-05:00

All advertisments by Telenor end up with the Company proclaiming that they are celebrating 150 years of something....Now Alexader Graham Bell invented Telephony in 1876 while at his Boston University lab. Which means that Telenor were into such fields before the invention of Telephone itself. Turns out, they are right! They laid the first telegraph cable between Drammen and Chritiania as the Norwegian Telegraph Administration co. and made the first Graham Bell Telephone demonstration in 1877. And here i was thinking that they used to fly pigeons or something and were celebrationg the great cycle of human communications evolution. You have to agree though, despite there being great risks of Brain Cancer and other radiation related diseases, Cell Phone and other modern communication technology is definitley less smelly and easier to keep up with than pigeons despite their being bio degradeable and eateable (tastes just like chicken). Also, all you have to do is try and read the manual, and off you go, with the other stuff, like pigeons and falcons, you have to feed them (no 72 hours batteries for you there), no videos and loads of bird shit for good measure. Plus, the Falcons had a slight tendecy to gouge out the eyes off their handlers. Lovely pets though.
Now cell phones have really advanced in the past 8 years or so, i remember my friend buying the First CELL PHONE in our group. It was a Paktel connection 15 Rs. per call (my pocket money back then was Rs. 50 per week) and it was bigger than a brick. There was a theory that making calls from it were very expensive so he was using it for after laundry ironing as well. A two in one package if you will.
Then in came Mottorrollaa, with Maybelink in harness. The Vader Types and Startacs....the ALL NEW NOKIAs...6110 and 5110ss and such. It is strange that you may buy a cell phone for the price of a good motorbike,yet after two years the bike is still sellable, yet you may only use the cell phone for your own perverse pleasure cause no one else would want to buy it for anything more than what you dont want to sell it for.
every body wants a piece of the new cell phone revolution. In five years of modern evolution, both Darwin and I are baffled as to how we used to live and thrive through 24 hours of the mundane routine we call life without the insane ringing of bells all around us. How on earth did we graduate and how on earth were the popular kids popular when they didnt have their N series sets with the ingrained mega pixel technologies. HOW HOW HOW.
I would like to believe that we got around well enough. Yes i agree we should have cell phones, i am not one of THOSE who are against advancement and No i dont think that cell phones will destroy our culture. It was pretty much gone anyway. The cell phones have just smoothed out a few wrinkles, whacked in the proverbial last nail.
There are good sides of it though, other than the bloody building sized billboards they have up everywhere. I would like to stress that i am not a chauvinist (a totally different topic, will be discussed soon), but i utterly dislike LARGE HOARDINGS with predominantly females selling the strangest of products in the most laughable of manners (Gillete mach3??? for men?? anyone?). The latest good news, okay not the latest, but i have heard that the Telenor Billboard near Zafar Ali Road is now gone. Now lets try for the Maybelink boards and get them going. A sight for sore eyes is one thing, being the site for sore eyes is another.

The most disarrayed post ever and porn stars are nice people

2005-11-23T05:01:00.000-05:00

Seems like eons ago… But bear with me, for it might get interesting and bare with me if it doesn’t so that it shall.

Ever since the day that I got off the plane on Dubai International Airport, people have been asking me (which includes people I don’t know from Adam) “What do you think about Dubai”? How’d you find it? What about the buildings? Were you impressed? I have been unable to satisfy people. Buildings don’t impress me much. Ok so they are big and flashy…but I did see a PINK building in Abu Dhabi and I saw a Golden and Pink building in Dubai? Now that showed Guts in bad taste if anything. Anyways, I was not there to appraise buildings and couldn’t have done a good job if I were.

I went there looking for a job and I found one, I doubt it was without any divine help. I was very lucky to say the least. I used to find Karachi Huge and Ugly, (no I am not talking about the people), I cant say Dubai is that. I think it is just plain Ugly. I guess it’s the way that I am built, any place that wreaks of more than 60% of capitalism makes me nauseous. There is nothing to do in that place for someone like me, well except working and getting paid. I know, I know it is home to many but It doesn’t mean I have to like it. A lot of people like vanilla ice cream too. Oh God, forgive me, why why why Vanilla? I mean that is not even a flavor. I think if something or someone is so tasteless or lifeless that you can’t put a finger on it, or name it, then call that thing Vanilla, for example the aptly named Vanilla Ice, Cameron Crowe’s Vanilla Sky and all Vanilla mornings, if there is any such in the world.

My opinion of Dubai for expats who are their for a quickie is very well explained by one of the very very few songs of Hip Hop and Rap that I like ….namely California Love feat: Dr. Dre & Tupac Shakur. They state:

Now let me welcome everybody to the wild, wild west
A state that's untouchable like Elliot Ness
The track hits ya eardrum like a slug to ya chest
Pack a vest for your Jimmy in the city of sex
We in that sunshine state with a bomb ass hemp beat
the state where ya never find a dance floor empty
And pimps be on a mission for them greens
lean mean money-makin-machines servin fiends (California Love – Dr. Dre & Tupac Shakur)

If we for an instance remove those who are plagued by life and HAVE to work in Dubai, because for them and in their sights there is no other option whatsoever, then we shall be left with at least 75% of the remaining population. Then let the rest be the pimps who are pretty busy pimping their products, some literally, some otherwise. Does that make them bad people or good people? No I am not talking about the Pimps, I don’t really care about em, except that maybe I want to act out a jack ripper (one week of ripping did no one any bad). Also, I would like a lot of paper and a paper shredder, to make me happy. The real thing would mean blood and slashing which really makes me sick to the stomach, like Japanese horror and American Teenage Comedy movies.

All of the above has nothing to do with Dubai. It has got a general direction wherein I hate all kinds of prostitution. When you say prostitution it is usually women who get paid to get laid. But it is more than just that. I think if the woman or man chooses that as a profession herself than she / he is wrong to do so. If they are forced, then it is worst. There are other kinds of prostitution, in my opinion prostitution / rape is having to do something you don’t like at all, or something which pays you a lot but for a price payable by not just you but by the whole society. Yes yes for me it is a whole moral dilemma. Pros are bad, but not porn stars…they are naughty. Porn stars are nice people.

So what is this all about? Nothing much at all, I just want to vent various issues out of my system. Catharsis if you will. Its like driving in Lahore, if you don’t cuss at every cut and turn you will most probably die of a heart attack before you reach your destination and I have a long way to drive.

wharts and what not

2005-09-12T05:53:00.000-05:00

So, i have finally decided to get off my cute little tush and actually try and do something. i have finally drafted a resume` and sent it off to a few people in the UAE. Yes! i am applying for a job there..or so it seems. i spent the whole night sitting up and thinking what it was all about. was it the better life it offered in its own peculiar manner. Did it mean more money, more savings. Perfect thoughts for a upper middle class Pakistani. Add to that the lack of wisdom generated by youth, harmones, boredom, an unchanged life over the past three and a half years. To this also add a bit of the fact that i have been single since i was born. All this adds up to produce the perfect concoction, the idea man to think about running away from it all. After spending the whole night wondering and failing to sleep due to the awakening neighbours (which is a story i shall build on later) i realised that it was not all of the above. Well some of it, but most of all, i wanted a vacation. I would never have convinced my self of taking a vacation for such a long time (i am very lazy, even when it comes to taking time out for my self), so i have finally given myself a very plausible excuse.
The thing that really surprised me was the fact that the day i started asking people about Dubai, and other adjoining states, and the job situation, there were people everywhere who were ready to help me come on over. I wonder, is it that i am very popular and everybody just loves me a lot. Or is it because most of us who go there with a vision of a better life for all the aforemetioned reasons and more find our own selves being held up for ransom? I am unable to comment on the presence or lack of culture in Dubai, especially due to the fact that i have never travelled a distance more than that of Lahore to Karachi, or the return trip. i will have to investigate further into that matter once i get there. There is no training like hands on training.
Now, the Plan is to get to Dubai, a friend is staying at a road (from description) adjacent to the "Bank Street" in Dubai. I assume that the bank street is one where most Banks would have their offices (every time i type the word office, i think orifice). Ok, once i am in the thick of things, i intend to throw my resume` at anyone who looks at me twice. I dont know what the reaction would be to such an outrage, but i am willing to take the blame and bear the brunt. I am a bit worried about the weather. Despite the fact that i have been trained in the dark skills of survival on the polluted and extremely hot roads of Lahore (apprx max road temp in summers goes upto 65 degrees centigrade), i have learned that the heat in UAE is DIFFERENT!?!?!?!? I am sure i shall get a crash course in that as well.
Over all, considering all of the above, and a million other reasons, ambition, apprehensions, doubts, dellusions, delirium and other such things, i have narrowed it down to the following. It being MY reasons to looking for a job abroad:
1) Better job experience, will help with future job switches
2) Better pay structure (provided i get a job) to help me save a bit more
3) Temporary getaway from the most monotonous lifestyle in the world at the moment. (mine)

Downside to getting a job abroad:

1) Lack of my personal best friends
2) No Family and no niece to play with
3) My Honda City Neo 1.5 EFi which does 0-100Kph under 9 Seconds.
4) Lahore (The best city in the world, i will explain someother time, just take my word for it, if you dont agree, comeover and i will show you why)
5) Also, Cheaper DVDs and assorted pirated stuff, not to mention cheap smuggled items.

Damn.

Await the beast

2005-08-09T08:30:00.000-05:00

Dark, dark is the night

Couldn’t see the light if we were blind

Close the window, the wind is fresh

Thoughts polluting such beauty

Awake till dawn, await the beast

Let it come and take me

Wait a little more

Oh life tear me, take me

Does this pain mean?

Is it meaningless like its master?

Tame me, claim me

End this lavish misery

Friend & Foes come & go

Take a piece of me, a bit of you

Leaving a shell full of smiles & tears

Sharing, giving an overflowing sea of fear

Broken, bruised, cruising

Single minded passion, obsessing

Loving, hating, living, dying

Waiting

I feel a subject to the devil’s delusions

Let me see you, the you behind the subterfuge

Obliterate this mirage, the sword so red

Bring me to us, me to you, the true ending of life

Is death, end this illusion.

a-political thought

2005-07-27T06:44:00.000-05:00

How happy is the blameless vestal's lot! The world forgetting, by the world forgot. Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind! Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd. -- Alexander Pope, "Eloisa to Abelard"

At the moment, due to my delayed reply, it is less of a happiness (relatively) and more of the tense speculaton of 9/11 all over again. It is funny how easy it is to point the finger at Osama, especially since he is still at large. Make a scapegoat out of a dead sheep is what i think. The mental side of it and the psychological approach in my homeland is that the British have at last been brought home what they sent to Afghanistan and Iraq. I cannot believe that if you wage a war against a tyrant or a terrorist in their respective countries, while sitting far away, with cluster bombs, the so called precision bombs killing civilians then it is a war for freedom. Yet if those same people, try to do the same in Ireland (in smaller bursts due to lack of sophisticated machinery) or in Palestine or in Cambodia, or Nicaragua, or in Bosnia, then they become either terrorists, or “the country's private matter". Despite the Palestinians, the Scottish, the Irish, the Zimbabweans, the administration has always been democratic to the Brits and the Americans. Yet if a Muslim ruler like Saddam rules his own country a bit tough, or Afghanis fight amongst themselves, America feels compelled to free them of the misery.

Being a Muslim and a human being i fail to understand the logic of suicide bombings. Any or all such missions are prohibited in Islam, in which it is certain that the soldier will die. No general is allowed to send his men in on a battle field where death is certain. Suicide is a deadly sin, in most religions, and one's own life is dear to everyone, no matter whether they follow any ideology, or whichever theology or not. But i am forced to consider that what is it that has forced the young men and women of Israel to leave behind this world of platonic and superficial pleasures to knowingly kill themselves just to take a bit of opposition with them. Are all the members of Hammas, Al-Qaeda, IRA and so on, crazy, or have they been driven mad. U2 an Irish band, has their lead singer in Bono. Beautiful singer, he once said, that it is human nature to share, and to want that others will share. And that if the dominant countries of the world don’t share their wealth and knowledge with others while considering them equals, and not calling it charity or pity, then the derelict will put their hand out and snatch it from you; because survival, believe it or not, is the first and the most banal human instinct.I read in the end of "The grapes of wrath" a woman while in the era of the greatest depression USA has seen, (epilogue) has lost her child, sees a man in destitute one who might have died of hunger. She offers him her breast to feed on, because if he doesn’t have anything to eat he will die, she has nothing else to offer except breast milk and there was also the underlying thought that if it is not used, it too will be wasted. It was the single most shocking thing for the Americans at that time, but I guess that is what the responsibilities of these nations are. To offer the kindness and fullness of a mother's breast to the tired and weary child, and not a slap on the arse of a drunkard father who comes home to a cold dinner, I hope they learn it before the dinner turns cold.

This is your life and it's ending one minute at a time (Tyler Durden - Fight Club)

2005-06-07T03:06:00.000-05:00

Rebuild, rehash, rebuild

All so different, so fresh

What we did was regurgitate

So boring, so common

But the storm raged on

We started, could we have stopped

Reminiscence, memories

Reminding us of the good times

Close your eyes

Heart, it beats, it sighs

Time doesn’t come back

It just rolls by

Lie down, curl your legs up

Open your hair, rest your back

Rest your mind, put off the sack

What is that sound

Is it the soul creaking?

It is all so confusing

Or is it just too simple

Too many thoughts

So much to say, so much time

So little breath, so less words

Use your eyes, try and mime

Green and blue, could we see

Running after each other

Spent the time

Now it’s gone by

Drop a stone, drop a feather

Taken the skin, and now its leather

Teetering on the brink

Imbalanced on desire

Running wild in the desert

You ran out of water

And your heart is still on fire

What are we trying to prove?

What are you trying to say

The sun goes down

It does it every other day

Don’t know what to do

So much hype, so much ado

Wave your arms about

Tear your lungs, scream aloud

Fill your page of life

A bit of luck, bit of strife

Has happened before

Will happen again

This life some adore

Others just bear the pain

I know my friend

I know it well

Sometimes its long

Those times are hell

Writhing, trembling

Looking for words

Changing sides, flipping

Can’t find your place

Stars shinning, high up in space

They move, they burn

You burn with them

You try your luck

You try alone, you try it with them

This unending fling

A stone tied and thrown

Fell in the stream

Started from aggression

Resulting a splash, breaking your dream

Your throat is parched

Lips are sealed

You killed your enemy

Now you can do nothing, just pass the bead

The thread is the road

A darkened highway

The bead you passed

Turned with time

Ever so quickly, and yet so sublime

Often time just passes

Often you pass the time

Looking for lies in what he says

You missed the truth he spoke

The angel has spoken

He said his part

He paid his token

You have been living like everyone

Rebuilding was just a plan

Adaptation the key you lost

And you took to adopting

Following and not leading

Follow your heart

That is your right

Use your mind, live your dreams

Those who follow you, its their right

Don’t regurgitate, don’t copy

Be elegant, be original, not sloppy

Life is short, but it can be long

It depends if you live all the while

Or wait to die all along.

Defence Exhibit A (Everything i say can and will be refuted)

2005-05-19T02:16:00.000-05:00

Women are definitely different from men. I have realized this after years of non empirical research. Most of my conclusions are based on unassuming assumptions. Does it make a difference whether we understand the difference in composition? The difference is more than just physical, I find the difference very interesting, like most straight men. What matters the most? That we respect and know that there is a difference or we know what the difference is?

The realization of the fact that we are built along the same lines with a heart a mouth, a limb here and there is ok, the difference is gender specific and lies in the genes, DNA and other technical stuff that makes a man a man and a woman a woman with all the curves and soft skin and stuff that makes a straight man go nuts and a gay man want to buy the shampoo or skin care that the woman might be using.

Men naturally like playing with their toys, in case you didn’t notice, if they don’t have anything external to play with, they will move to their own appliances and accessories. A man with nothing to do will most probably end up arranging his crotchular area, because he can, or because he has nothing better to do. It is not because he wants to touch himself. It could be, but chances are that the act is committed subconsciously.

A woman might be interested in how to play the DVD player, men however would stay in the BOX and want to know what accessories they got with the new toy, what features, how to operate the menu, do we get free porn with it?? There are advertisements and promotional pictures (usually of a female model???) on a DVD Player’s Box, when a man goes there to buy it, the average male might joke to his friend, hey do we get this chick with it for free? The woman won’t even notice the guy on the box, might not even notice the one in it.

The brain functions totally differently, the hormonal functions, and in man’s defense, dysfunction has got everything to do with Man’s general behavior. It was the boy friend, who not only had the video but also to our immensely perverse pleasure, decided to sell the tape which entailed his and one Ms. Paris Hilton’s meeting on the water bed. The question is, out of all the people who like to make sex videos why do men want to make a video while having sex more than women do?

This whole discussion erupted with a few friends, some of em women, regarding boys chasing girls around in Liberty Market and what not! Basically eve teasing, as it is technically placed. The slang term most popular for it is poondi. As in a poond is a skirt chaser, whose attitude toward chasing is like a wasp, wherein poond is also wasp in urdu.

Now if a girl doesn’t look at you after you have attempted valiantly to gain attention the ASB (ASB – attention seeking bastard / behavior) will term the girl arrogant and a bitch. However if she smiles, she is easy, and if she smiles and turns away she is a gashti / slut. Men however remain studs and/or playboys. In my entire friend’s and my abnormality we were unable to gauge the pleasure that a man might extract from skirt chasing. My female friends keep asking me, that it is not as if you tease a girl and get to pinch her ass (hmm?), or fondle her boobies (yum yum) or something along the same naughty lines. I mean eventually you might but not right then and there. So why do boys escort women of their choice from a market place back to their house and then go back to the market place looking for more? Since 90% of boys do this in adolescence, then is it normal. Or is it just a tradition that boys are striving hard to keep up with, you know, the boys will be boys kind of thing.

Why? Why do men do all this and enjoy it as well, what is the stimulus other than that which hangs between the legs? If it is all a hormonal dysfunction then it is normal and men shouldn’t be blamed for it at all. However if it is not normal than let it be known that the majority of straight men are abnormal and almost all are perverts and are loving it thoroughly.

some thoughts

2005-04-29T00:43:00.000-05:00

You know it
Just the way I told it
We spent our lives dreaming
To see a rose blooming
Only to know it is screaming
And we long to leave this place
To go to some afar in space
Alone, no one near us

Expression that comes itself
It is evident is not forthcoming
Forced acceptance akin to denial
Self torture mass suicide
Of our nonchalant existence
Let us put as much distance between us and sanity
Taste of tears and smell of my fears
The sea, its breeze and its salinity

All that is pretty
All that is dainty
So full of hate
So much love for pity
Yes I am alone here
Said my prayers, seen the end is near
I want to go there
Alone or with you

Life, it needs a shove and a push

I’ve done with love,
Done with out being sorry
For the loss of one, when all is gone
Till the drowning of the sun

I’ve said my prayers,
Said them for life
Been on my knees
Been there for you
When you were there, and now
When you are gone

I’ve said my prayers
With the rising sun
And till it drowns
Am tired now, will leave
Alone and without you
To hell where my life has gone
And come back with the rising sun
The day it doesn’t dawn
On a day that will not drown

no title

2005-04-20T04:11:00.000-05:00

Isn’t it painful
To see a grown man cry
Don’t be surprised
You might see him in a mirror
The thought of losing is dangerous
The shame of facing others a horror
Reality, it seems to you
Is life’s favorite torture
All you ever wanted was to die
Nothing in life was ever faithful
Loyalty in this world
It seems to you is never fruitful
The only time it acted true to you
Was when you wanted life to give up
Just let go on you
It was the moment of your life
And it screamed for betrayal
Your life is drifting
It is drifting from the shore
Defeat is so gripping
And that is for sure
You look for answers
But the questions
They have shut the door
Your memory is faltering
Your anchor broke
You mind is adrift
You missed your boat
And now you are stuck
Your ego is inflated
But can it keep you afloat
You miss her love
You miss her hate
Miss the mixed feelings
That you loved to hate
Life is an angel
Stuck somewhere in hell
Death is coming
And she rings the bell
You feel thankful
To whom? You don’t know
Once life was good
Now, you don’t know
You had all the answers
You knew the way
You slept through the night
And dreamt away the day
Deliverance seems near
Yet so far away
Isn’t it painful, to see a grown man cry

you name it!

2005-04-11T02:34:00.000-05:00

Knowing the sky is blue, knowing the night is dark
Knowing the sun burns, in the love of morning
Mourning the death of day, mourning the passage of night
Lovers lie in a dream of Eden, lovers lie of a dream of Eden

Knowing life is frail, knowing it shall wither
Knowing oceans are full, of the lover’s tear
Showing despair in love of you, slowing time the love of you
You want to lie in a dream of Eden; you are lying of a dream of Eden

Knowingly lie of all that is true, tell a lie when the lie is you
Knowingly fall from a cliff of hate, into the valley of love
The valley of love crushes all that falls within,
The valley of love that kills me is you

Unwittingly tie our lives together, tie my heart to you
Unwittingly tie our lies together, the truth is born it is you
Forests burn as lightning kisses them, clouds scream in vengeance
The earth moans and heaves and sighs, there is no sight of you

Self centered our emotions are, our lovers emotions are true
In each other’s embrace we lay, in each other’s embrace we lie
Within you and I is us, within us is I and you
Within us is where we lie, you to I, I to you

We struggle writhe and scream try to keep what we have now
Our grip is like a dead man’s grip on sand, slippery all you get is few
Grains of sand stuck in your nails, you lose them as you start to chew
we burn but we never learn and start anew

Sabbatical - Any one?

2005-04-11T01:24:00.000-05:00

At any given Sunday, what does a man or a woman in Lahore do to entertain oneself? Watch a movie; go out to dinner or lunch with friends or a partner, or what? What else can a person do to have fun! Do we undertake yet another pilgrimage to the Meccas of shopping, the Liberty Market, Fortress Stadium, Empire Center, PACE, Hafiz Center, Chen One? And after you are bored with window or otherwise shopping, almost all of these places have one or two eateries, if not a whole food court. We could go to Qadafi Stadium, have some more food, or MM Alam Road, have yet more food (there goes the belt), or GawalMandi, or Lakshmi Chowk, stuff our selves even more, if possible. Fulfill the First Deadly Sin, become Gluttons and Obese from Head to Toe. If not that, we can always fan our vanities by shopping some more. You know, look good, plus since we are eating so much at any given time we will need new clothes after every one-month or so, depending on how much exercise we are getting in between (sweatpants might be a good investment). With so many restaurants and eateries in our city, if someone comes from out of town the first things he notices is the lack of places to go for fun’s sake. What do you guys do for fun? You eat? Pigs eat for fun!

I tell them, that we eat yes, but it is the ambience and the company we enjoy does it matter where and how? And other blah blah yappity yapp stuff that I could say all the while stuffing my mouth with further food, because where else could we go and talk other then at some other restaurant.

Anyone alive and well fitted with functioning senses knows how the property business is in boom these days, all those open areas with no houses and societies without people but a lot of files in swapping. All of them boast a central market, a big commercial area, but only one or two out of a dozen support a sporting center or parks, places where boys can be boys and leave girls to shop on their own without feeling that someone is watching them all the time. Come on boys, it could be your sister in the next shop. But then where are the gents supposed to go? Not that women don’t want to do stuff other than shopping, of course they do, (since I am a seasoned male, I have realized never to PRESUME anything about our female counterparts).

There are a million parks in the D.H.A Lahore, of course I am exaggerating, everything about the D.H.A is exaggerated, the prices, the traffic, the necklines. All parks have a bigger- than-the-park-itself sign, that you can see in your room at the time you are pulling on your sneakers or track suit, that says “it is prohibited to bring pets in the park, it is prohibited to play; hockey, cricket, football, volleyball etc in the park”. What do you do in a Park, especially one that has no jogging track, and you are more than 16 years old, so “Baraf Pani” “Oonch Neech” & “Safe Safe” become distant, more childish options (where Baraf Pani has no relation to Pani Puri).

Have we made these parks so kids can come here and get bored so we may bring out the Aristotle in us all at the earliest age possible? Is this why the authorities allow us to rest our backsides under the shade in greenery filled park to think and think only? What happened to all work and no play making for dull johnnys? Where does an eighteen year old go after his books? You start a good game of cricket and someone calls up the authorities that there are kids making noise in the park. Hell yes they are making noise, they are kids, kids who are playing (involved in physical activity), they are NOT playing a BOARD game (hell we used to make just as much noise in monopoly or Luddo, didn’t we?). I want to scream a question…. IS IT A PARK OR A LIBRARY?!?!?!? And if you can’t sleep at five in the afternoon then come out and play. I always though it was a good thing to see youngster at play, helps you live a little longer.

Ok let us assume they don’t make noise in the park and let the people in the houses be, a good secluded house smack dab in the front of a nice sprawling park all green with swings that swing because it is high wind or cause some geezer farted (yes I am mad)? And the kids that could have been having good clean fun, who have got no good theaters to go to (trust me, you don’t want your average teenager to see a local flick), no option for physical activity other than to chase the ice cream truck or going to an expensive health spa which might not be very affordable for the average parent (there are a lot of those going around) who have to afford high tuition fees. What do the kids do? Go to the market place? Eve tease girls? Hang around at street corners?

The more time an eighteen year old spends on the street corner the more opportunities he / she has to learn:

a) How to properly roll a joint and smoke it too
b) How to make a screw driver
c) How to differentiate between hallucinogens & carcinogens
d) How to structure a sentence comprising 90% of swear words
e) The difference between various female undergarments and the sizes by looking at the specimen
f) Sign language not usable in a family program and not used to help land aero planes
g) Stuff you want to know but I cant tell for fear of this not printing

It is not really that bad a picture, there is the good old Lawrence Gardens, the Race Course Park, Iqbal Park, the Mini Golf, but these are again places where if parents take their kids, the people in their late teens and early twenties will feel awkward going, unless they enjoy going to kiddie places. Also some of the crowd that does go to places common with family outing, at times end up being so rowdy that it becomes unbearable for someone trying to have a decent time with wife or daughter. Lahore my dear ladies and gentlemen is a city where no adult without a family is allowed into JOY LAND! So if you are single, you are not allowed to swing the merry go round or any other round for that matter. You may go to KFC, have some chicken!

Bouts of Flu & Leeches!

2005-03-06T12:34:00.000-05:00

I sit down to write again, with nothing particular in mind. Life, it has always been so easy for me to live through it, even with all its ups and downs (and there have been some). The high points of my life accentuate the moments of happiness. The low points in life have, in a funny sort of way brought forth euphoria which stems from the integration of what ever resources I have accumulated in life to battle these sudden crevices which stand in every persons way in leading a perfect life.
Everyone that I have ever met has with a few exceptions had some sort of an ambition in life. Those who did not have one, had two or more ambitions, but that is just human nature to ask for more, and then some. The usual impression that people leave on me, or rather what I have gathered is that most of us common human beings just want to lead a life, in which we are successful, socially and economically.
Social success would be to move up the social ladder from where our earlier generation had left off, that again, is attributed to human nature. Economic success is but so obvious, as it does bring social success with it, but only in a conventional sort of way.
Now I cannot seem to be able to point out all the aspects which might lead a person, any person to be rushing after the social success brought by the success reached in the financial matters. Now we all know that there have been people who toil to make money so that their families can enjoy a good time on this bloody planet, but how many people are there like this.
There have also been people in this world who have displayed, to some, courage and valor, and to others stupidity. These are the people who inherited all that was needed, status as well as the riches, but they just chose to leave it all behind, for what they themselves called higher learning, I blame no one, for this is again human nature.
There are people who make it big time but then throw it all away because they never deserved it. Why do I say that? It is because these people who have made a lot of money, if they deserve it they would also know how and where, and also when to spend it. And most importantly how much! Basically I would call it the Jungle Rule, or the modern day term “survival of the fittest”. In this case it is the fittest in mind and the ever present human tendencies to get so far carried away in ecstacy that you suddenly realize that all you had, you have left it all far behind. And like any other Internet connection in Pakistan, the worldly gains all seem to be lagging, and hardly ever manage to catch up with the owner in full flight.

Medium is the Message

2004-11-26T01:13:00.000-05:00

Recently Sony Television launched another campaign for its WEGA Television. Various Billboards have been put up in the city and commercials can be witnessed on the TV during Prime Time on most of the Local Cable Channels. Keeping up with the tradition of locally produced ads SONY have not missed out on the opportunity to create a setting where some girl is being wed, and instead of a Mattress, a Washing Machine, all or any electronic home appliance (mentioned products are available on easy installments), this time we find a multinational the size of SONY entering the “Items proposed for dowry” arena.

For those who might not have seen the Advertisement, the “Girl” is refusing to get married to the “Boy” and agrees with a BEAMING smile on her make up ridden face, when her “Mother” tells her that the “Boy” has a SONY WEGA at his place. The slogan that follows up states, “Confirming your identity in Society…. SONY WEGA TV”

Strange that we should so openly know our own culture, yet do nothing about it. It is amusing how we will exploit anything, even if it is a slap in our own face just so it can be as red as the next person. “Standard of Living” they say, “Your place in Society” they say. What is the person who buys a Sony WEGA? Godsend? God forbid. What is he or she? Are we all so far gone that we can’t realize how we are being played? Or are we really that Far Gone?

Has this sub-culture, this human habit of showing off become so strong that it has taken over, become first instead of Second Nature? I think the people selling the TV, The Bar, The Radio, The Mobile, The Chair, The Muslim Shower are all right. Hell they are only doing business; they will sell anything that does. I think it is the general public that has degenerated to an all time low. We have become numb, sorry excuses of human beings, because look around us, all that Glitters IS GOLD.

It should have been women burning down that hoarding telling people that women will marry that man who has that brand of TV, are women so low that they except it or maybe too busy to know it is there. Are men so shallow that they need a picture tube to woo a woman?

All that sells today is a Fashion Statement; let it be food, sleep, a job or clothing. The campaign guides the nation’s life style. No body chooses what to buy anymore. They are told by what is IN and what is OUT. A Canadian Media Giant once said, “Medium is the Message”. It certainly is in our case.

Let us take the development of our new generation after the influx of info from the World Wide Web, the cable, and the satellite receiver. We have suddenly become very aware of all that is out there, and in some instances our lesser-developed minds have had to adjust in warp speed. Having a lot of information does not mean you know what to do, look at the pre-emptive strike by the world’s saviors?

The new generation coming up is factory fitted, you can ID one from a mile. You can see that the choice in clothes, in accent, in job, in education degrees was made not by the individual but by the medium. There are either MBAs or Computer users; rarely does someone make a choice for himself or herself.

Mobile phones are not carried because they are needed, but because they are wanted. Clothes are not worn because they look good, but because the ad said that if you wear THIS, carry this mobile, buy this Package, Lease this car, Drink this soft drink, eat this biscuit, buy this TV, you will not only score with “ A COOL GIRL / BOY (Your Preference), but it will also serve in bringing out the best of the relationship, a happy marriage / relationship depends upon the SMS rate and the choice of Banaspati.

I say it is not the fault of people who are selling, nor the fault of the advertisement agencies, who some how think that biscuit with a heart in the middle can either be sold to kids cause it has jam filled centers or to guitar swinging teens who only discover their guts after a dose of cream filled biscuits to confess love. Every ad aimed the teen is seemingly designed by Cupid, throwing arrows dipped in Love. Every arrow is aimed straight at the heart of our culture.

Freedom of speech, freedom of choice, are we all really choosing freely? If yes then what are all the people worried about? Everybody is the same, dresses, eats, walks, talks the same. We are one man and one woman, just a lot of mirrors trying to out shine each other at the same game so we can be more sellable.

We are one big nation, out of which a few are educated, most of whom are molded, and mass produced, prêt e porter, ready to wear. Who cares about appearances when all you see is the same?

Silence is all i hear

2004-09-21T03:56:00.000-05:00

for the moment i am drier than a martini (still dont know how something liquid can be dry-maybe ignorance is bliss). so nick cave (referred to as clive barker by a friend..he thinks nick is just as scary) will have to suffice!

Go son, go down to the water
And see the women weeping there
Then go up into the mountains
The men, they are weeping too.
Father, why are all the women weeping?
They all are weeping for their men
Then why are all the men there weeping?
They are weeping back at them.

This is a weeping song
A song in which to weep
While all the men and women sleep.
This is a weeping song
But I won't be weeping long.

Father why are all the children weeping?
They are merely crying son.
O, are they merely crying father?
Yes, true weeping is yet to come.

This is a weeping song
A song in which to weep
While all the little children sleep.
This is a weeping song
But I won't be weeping long.

O father tell me are you weeping?
Your face seems wet to touch.
O then I'm so sorry father
I never thought I hurt you so much.

This is a weeping song
A song in which to weep
While we rock ourselves to sleep.
This is a weeping song
But I won't be weeping long
No. I won't be weeping long

(THE WEEPING SONG-NICK CAVE AND THE BAD SEEDS

More Evil Than Dead

2004-08-04T03:34:00.000-05:00

I have a little problem….
I have a demon for a wife
He delights in my pretty face
And he hates my life
Takes notes on how to provoke past grief
Makes my teeth decay, with the last of my self belief
(Addicted-Faithless)

A time when you feel the need to say something the most is the time when you should say nothing at all. Easier said than done I’d say, climb up a flagpole and kiss your own arse is what I say. I say a lot, but realize only later that most of what I say is a bloody figment of my imagination. Never get around to actually saying it. I am sure; that had I said what I had wanted to, when I wanted to, things would have been totally different. I would be lying somewhere, oblivious of this pain, oblivious of the world’s sorrows and stuff, lying somewhere in my total decapitated solitude. My head separated from my body, would still be dreaming and talking though. But that is just a vision I have, I don’t think it is going to materialize. I really hope it doesn’t.
Evil dead is a movie I have seen many times. The scene where the girl sits in the window, telling cards true to the last color wrapped in her little blanket fresh from being raped by a tree and its branches, makes me think, is it dangerous to wander off in a jungle at night alone for a cute looking girl because of:

a) The evil spirit haunting the jungle
b) The sexually frustrated trees
c) The trees possessed by a sexually frustrated evil spirit
d) The sexually frustrated men masquerading as trees
e) The sexually frustrated men brought up by apes and who now call themselves Tarzan
f) The Apes who brought up Tarzan and now want the real shit
g) The Female Ape who brought up Tarzan, now hates Karchak wants to try another flavor?
h) The sexually frustrated Lesbian Women, Cross dressing as men because that is the most believable disguise (even if a woman rapes another woman, the rape`e would assume that the rape`or was a man because only men are so frustrated so as to impose themselves on unassuming women running topless in an evil infested jungle in the middle of the haunted night).

There could be some other reasons as well, but what I really want to ponder upon here is not how a woman gets raped, even though for some that would be the best part (bloody perverts), I am rather interested in why women get raped while frolicking in the jungle, naked, in the middle of the night. When a man teases a woman (eve teasing I suppose). It is not appreciated by the feminine self-esteem at all. The ass pinching, and breast staring really hurts the feelings, and rightly so, It is unnatural, goes against the nature of mankind, but at the same time conforms with the nature of man, because that is what we do, attack and pillage and rape the poor lil bastard who cannot defend his or her own self.

So if men teasing women is unnatural, then women teasing men should be perfectly natural. All women should tease men, grab asses where ever they see a cute one, stare at crotches, push and shove in trains and buses, fight with friends in loud voices as to who gets to sit with the nice looking guy sitting alone in the back seat. Drop a hankie and ask if he dropped it and then ask if he wants to have sex, or just ask if he wants to have sex, forget the hankie (men like the bloody direct approach) after all, it is only natural!!!!

chapter 1 (continued)

2004-07-04T03:54:00.000-05:00

Hassan was a man; that was the least that could be said about him, and something that cannot be said about many of the gender but not of character, walking around on this planet at the same point in time and space. He was a man of his and other people’s word, some one who had never had to work, by choice or by compulsion. He wasn’t in habit of whimpering for everything he wanted or desired, even though most of what he wanted he could have, at least the material wished could easily be fulfilled with what his family had. There was a time when he fell in love with the Alps, wanted them to be available to him in his city, which was half a planet across. Of course such foolish wishes are not readily granted. He could have had it, provided he shifted there himself, but he didn’t, he wanted the alps to be in his back yard and no one could take the right to wish away from him.
He wasn’t deliberately eager to please other people, he was just that way, and he was an earnest person who went whichever way you wanted him to. Maybe because at times he never had a direction in his own mind to go in, he was the kind of guy who would blindly go where no man or woman would go before him.
For thousands of years man has evolved; born, grown, failed and succeeded, built pyramids which are effectively the most elaborate houses of the dead and nothing more but mere graves. Awe inspiring to some but nothing more than mere graves, signifying only one fatal reality; death. To Hassan that was pretty much a decent thought and I agreed, but I still thought that the pyramids if not a wonder were very well constructed buildings. You could make them palaces or shelter homes, but we humans are so intent of preservation of the past that we seem to forget the present. Every year millions are spent on rejuvenation of pre-historic artifacts but it is never thought that while we preserve our history we lose a bit of humanity, as it exists now. None of us ever stop to think why the pyramids effectively glorious graves stand yet we struggle to find the remains of the magnificent palaces that existed with them. Why has time preserved tombs instead of glorious palaces, why do we persist on calling the houses of the dead the glory of the past yet fail to see that the glory is past, and does not exist anymore than the dead lying in the graves they built for themselves.
Something to do with cherishing what is past or could not transpire, same with the first love of everyone’s life, whether you get it or not, whether you lose or gain from it, thoughts of it follow you even through darkness, through places where your shadow leaves your wake.

chapter1 ... continued

2004-06-30T14:57:00.000-05:00

Same was with my dearest of friends; he lived for his love affairs, with this world and its atmosphere, the narrow streets in large cities, and big highways in small countries, made in imitation of those in more modern and advanced civilizations. To him controversy was a way of life, the essence of what his existence meant, and even in love denial for him was ultimate. Loving some thing, and not being able to get it, to fight the desire and the wantonness, everything that was, had to have an opposite. For him at least, but not for me, his belief that everything that is must have a balancing effect, that if there were too much good in this world and no evil, this world would collapse, implode, unable to digest all the sweetness that was encaged in the tiny hemisphere. To him evil was necessary for good to exist.
That made it easy for him to understand the extent to which some people went to have their way, but for all the philosophy and the big words that were even banished from modern dictionaries, he was a romantic to the core. His constant failures to deny love, and acknowledge hate as the only true emotion in this world were invisible to his own eyes, yet surrounded him every where he went. This time, he was truly caught, for never before had he been bewitched by one of the opposite sex, the worst trap any romantic can fall into, true love mixed with a dash of denial and topped with lack of guts to go up to the person and say out loud what he felt.
The reason behind his newfound lack in confidence was that he had never loved something alive before this incident, something that has a choice and may say no when you said yes. He was trying to cover it up unsuccessfully, by saying that the extent to which he loved this woman, had to be balanced by her hating him, just as much as he hated himself for loving her or just as much as he loved her, which was by and large in the same ratio. The least he could do to maintain balance for the sake of the world was to make sure that she at least didn’t love him. That was as far as his hypocrisy went, he couldn’t make himself imagine being hated by his true love. That was a minor development in his otherwise unchangeable character. I had a feeling the next few months would bring about many changes in a terrain where change was a stranger.
Hassan, that is my friend’s name, thought that if he made her love him he would be part of another person’s dilemma. That some evil might befall another man, or animal for all the happiness he would be enjoying. Unbelievable to some, but true to a very large extent in Hassan’s mind which held nothing much in regard to opinions, and that too was usually borrowed from other people’s high headed discussions.....(continued)

prologue continued....

2004-06-25T09:31:00.000-05:00

Most common people who tend to consider themselves normal because they follow the norms of society and find it easy to relate to other people around them, call dreamers as weak, strange weird and other one word and two word names that do not even begin to define the sort of people we really are. All this name-calling does not help our relation ship at all and only causes the rift between the drones, and us only to widen to an extent that it may never be bridged. At least not in our lifetime, mainly because people of our breed tend not to live very long lives, our average life span not withstanding we do try to eliminate the pain in our lives at the source of it, by foolishly eliminating life itself.
Contrary to what I am, I have tried to remain sober and true to life in the past ten minutes of story telling, but nothing that I say is a promise that the status quo would be maintained for any long period of time. However due to my new found reason to live, I can try to assure you that I will not take you for the ride of your life. This is not an original story, nothing man made in this world is original, and it cannot be, period. Why? Is a different issue for a different time and a different chapter, I cannot really promise that it will be pondered on either, maybe if I remember it, I will give forth my opinion on human beings and their delusions about being original.
This is a story of tendrils of smoke, black lungs, more pin pricks in human flesh than a pincushion, your boss’s voodoo doll that you have hidden under your bed, and other stuff related to the downside of having more than your share of fun in one lifetime, not that you would remember anything the next morning.
Please bear with me as I iron out a few minor details, wrinkles in the bed sheet so to speak. You would know how it feels when you look at a painting that has been put up but has this ever so slight tilt to the right; you feel the need to put it right. If you cannot reach that painting, or it is in the dinning room of some one you have gone visiting, then through out your visit you find yourself looking up at the tilted picture as if it is a ritual until you can leave the place and embrace sanity away from the painting’s hung disposition.
Please remember that what ever follows has happened before, it is happening now somewhere in this smaller than it was once world and it will happen again unless human kind, either vanishes from the face of the earth in the brightest moment of the rock’s history, or if we manage to achieve the much dreamed about utopia. Only the vanishing part seems any likely and would also be very nice for the future of this planet and all chicken on it as well.

CHAPTER 1

“She is so beautiful” he moaned ever so balefully looking at me as if to gain some sympathy, or maybe he just looked as if he could do with some sympathy, whatever the confusion his condition though expected was not good at all. He lay sprawled on the leather-upholstered couch, one leg dangling so that his toe almost touched the Iranian rug, and the other foot; completing his designated pair, rested on a small stool. Light from the sinking sun filtered through the dirty window illuminating his face a bit, if not his brain.
It was pretty obvious that he was smitten with the girl he was talking about; at least it was a girl and not a car. Last time he came down like this with all his articulations drowning in his eternal undying love for HER, it turned out it was a classic car and he couldn’t get HER out of his mind for a minute.
I felt cruel, considering his predicament was real and as serious as any other one sided love affair but it did not have much effect on me. Maybe because I had never been in his shoes, dainty as they were I tend to step lightly where daintiness is at hand. When it came to my thoughts about my friends and their continuous flirtations with love I was a nobody, a pure dyed in the wool outsider, who knew no bench mark to define or categorize the extent of seriousness in people’s emotions.
I merely looked at him as if he were an object in a museum, cold and beautiful, something you are not allowed to touch either. But despite all the rules and laws in the world, there are people who touch stuff in the museum and then there are people who steal them for which touching is a prerequisite. All of this happens for their vested interests, could be monetary or maybe touching the artifact just because it is forbidden, takes them to a high that nothing else in this world can. It can also be the selfish, obsessive and possessive nature of human beings, to capture and enslave something that you cherish, so that no one other than you can ever get near it see it taste it or breath it. Sometimes, it is just good to touch it, to know that it is there, that it exists; some things and some people are so beautiful, that you cannot imagine their existence until you have actually touched them.
It is not necessary to touch them physically, an emotional connection, even a disagreement strong or weak can both lead to a co-existence of two different people, both feeding off each other’s presence, life blood without even knowing that the other person ever existed. Controversial statements but still very possible, you know another person is there, ever present, his or her existence felt in every other thing that you do or don’t but you never know who you do it for or how................(continued...)

PROLOGUE

2004-06-22T08:42:00.000-05:00

Not knowing where life was eventually going to lead, I marched on. A lone soldier amongst millions, no one to worry about, no sorrows, no tears, neither of sadness nor of joy. Life was a long railroad track along which I was swept, like a vagabond sail torn off some old ship ravaged by pirates. Life had no meaning, and even if it did it would have been really painful. It would be good if it continued and ended the same way. There would be the consolation of the thought that it was only something meaningless that had ended. Something that meant nothing to anyone, not even death itself thought much of this mockery, a character whose job was to mimic life. The greatest thing about being what I am is that you can be anyone you want, anyone you wish, anyone you look up to, dream to be, dread to be. Your best and your worst nightmares are at your doorstep; all but a single knock away.
You didn’t even have to close your eyes, and you could be in dreamland. Even if there were an Alice and her fabled wonderland, I had it beat by such a long margin that if she knew she would beg me to let her play. I can be your Knight in the shiniest armor, the last hope for planet earth. Make me your friend and I will be the Huckleberry Finn for you that Tom Sawyer never ever had.
But in reality, I was nothing but a mere daydreamer, a man who had promised a lot, shown the potential of being the genuine article. The prodigious child that every teacher dreamed of having for a student but never got. No, this is not where I daydream, this is where I reminiscence, this is how it all started. The tiny seed that got planted by innocent onlookers, watered by unwitting patrons and my ludicrous imagination which later grew into a thousand-year-old rain forest of hopes; rotten to the root and unable to bear fruit for any creation on this planet. The infection seemingly benign and common had seeped in so bad that not even vultures would have a piece of this cake.
Self pity? You couldn’t possibly know what the word meant, no one could, and frankly I don’t think I will ever know what it really means. I have never shed tears for my self nor felt anything much while shedding them for others in pain. Only the tears roll down when I dream of saving some one in pain and come out all painted in glory. Life has always found a way to get around hardships and give the tiring mind a rest; those are some of the excuses that a man or a woman who wished to dream his troubles away would give, to dream. To run so far away from reality that the taint of society cannot possibly find a way to reach them, hidden in their little hidey-holes where they themselves are only just comfortable. The comfort spawned from the thought that they reside in a place where no one else would ever feel comfortable enough to stay for long and disturb their sleep.

day dreams

2004-06-06T15:02:00.000-05:00

We didn’t have much to do; hell there wasn’t much we could do. The sky was totally unapproachable, thick clouds and occasional whiff of mist stood its ground between our sight and the speckled blanket enveloping our universe. The sky isn’t really there, it is just something we underachievers talk about reaching knowing we cannot cause it just isn’t there. Space without sunlight is what it is. It was really quite beautiful there, in its gloom and tiny noises of snow falling off the tall pines that surrounded us. Every now and then one of them would shudder as if they couldn’t handle the weight of snow on their shoulders. I could most definitely relate with the thought, I don’t know whether the rest could or not, but I tried to be honest, knowing my limitations and I knew that I could never come close to encroaching them. The clouds overhead rumbled as if brooding, whether they wanted to shed more snowy tears over this valley of fear and suppressed human emotions or not. No one actually knew how long we had waited there in the cold darkness. Huddled together like a fresh dog litter trying to stave off the cold, willing it away. It burned it was so cold, went through the pores in our skin and even the adrenaline induced sweat seemed to freeze in the glands, however the tears never stopped flowing. Warm flowing salt kept making steamy streaky tracks along some quivering whitened faces as if some skiers had had a day full of fun and frolic in the alps.
Cynicism aside life could get worse, the thought of being dead was a blessing now, it might have been worse if i had wanted to stay alive, especially after what I had seen people go through. Painful is what having a heart is, does not allow you to feel pain for yourself, if you see others in worst. Would have been better off had I seen only with my eyes and nothing else. I got involved, biggest mistake I ever made in my entire life, I had always been a bystander sometimes enjoying but always observing what happened around me. Observing yes, but only objectively, no emotions involved what so ever. There was never a need to do so, I was so right, I have always hated being right and I was when I thought that to stay aloof, away, the heir to the throne in introvertism; if there is such an ism, would be near to perfect. Nothing really can be perfect, but one thing is for sure. No one human being can stay away from humanity for long; every man is an animal, part of a society. Some sort of an emotion always creeps through let it be good-natured or bad there is always an underlying current of emotions. I don’t think us humans are deserving of so much nor can one man or woman bear so much pain or hate love, distress ...there aren’t enough shades of gray to cover the feelings and emotional ebb and flow that one might go through in one micro second."

some more poetry type thing

2004-06-03T12:32:00.000-05:00

Twisted thoughts flowing
Sleeping they were,
Don’t know what gave them wings
Shame, embarrassment, lies and deceit
Head in knees
The little boy is crying
His soul is dying
With every word that is said
Between every line
Leave it all behind
Refuse to resign
Ourselves to truth that drowns inside
Forever gone innocence
Slipping like tears
All shame and fears
Stripped of garb and cloth
Naked flesh, strutting the streets
Flushed with egos
The sea is rising
To meet the moon
Spell it out, it reads soon
The tide is high
But its only noon
The little boy cries,
Singing with his soul
She leaves him now
The sun is cold
A mother wishing his hunger away
Not knowing what hurts so
She such a fool
You can’t get what you wish for
It never works that way
We get what we deserve
The devil sings as he may
The sun shall rise
On someone’s day
Tears will fall
Where someone’s love once lay
They all still lie
Waiting to die
Thinking, of days gone by
When the young were shy
Some would laugh, while some would lie
For every lie, someone would die
The moon wept, seas rose high
The world grows cold
And the sky just dies
The little boy cries
His mother to him lies
Wait a bit longer
Dinner just arrives
Let the kid sleep, she begs
Deep,
Somewhere deep
Where every dream dies, where he is not alone
Where every one cries

really one should really care

2004-05-28T10:22:00.000-05:00

there are a lot of things that a man or a woman might want to say but cannot say them, there are various reasons why they are able to say them or not. however there is one thing any man or woman should easily be able to say, the word that comes to your mind when you accidently kick your bedpost with your knee or toe. Especially the toe, kick it just hard enough that a little bit of the nail is left attached to the more ably attached part of the anatomy. now after you wake up from your personal blackout you find out which condition your nail is in. for women it might be a consolation that they broke a nail and at least it wasnt one from the two hands. there isnt a third hand, if there were it would only spell more long nails and a higher consumption of nail polish and nail polish remover and other related items of use to women, cross dressing men, transvestites and other people who use nail polish (little kids who want to differentiate MY MUG from MY SISTERS MUG.
is nail polish, Polish? i guess i will never find out. or is simple polish, Polish? was polish used for the first time in Poland or did a Pole use it for the first time. if a Pole used it for the first time, who helped it? i mean, how can a POLE paint its own self. if it could paint would it let the Dog destroy it by raising one leg and doing it?
which reminds me of the freedom Dogs and cats and other such animals have. They can just go ahead and do it. especially the stray ones. we have so many double standards. Our pets are more free to do what they wanna do they we are. more over they are fed and we have to kill and eat (that might be one of the ways to define working for a large organiation). for every job you get, some ten people dont, or maybe more. so should we consider ourselves lucky? or just plain stupid? or undemocratic (since we are doing something that the majority aint doin?) or cruel cause we disallow someone from taking a job and going back broken hearted or hungry or somehting like that?

The Discomfort that diarrhea entails! (PART 1)

2004-05-26T13:09:00.000-05:00

If you should die before me, ask if you could bring a friend
(Stone Temple Pilots)

An innuendo is an insinuation (and or an implication or suggestion).

Life is full of little innuendos, it at times seems to be built of these little one liners that people keep dishing out as if they are home grown in their back yard or back lawn or what ever those things with grass and other weeds is called. Turns out most of them are from forwards and other kinds of emails that these people send and receive over a period of time. Johnny was a little boy; Johnny was a happy little boy until he started receiving these forwards. He now is a big boy; he is a big boy because he hates, and hate, like love is an extreme emotion. Johnny hates these forwards and every other thing that these forwards accompany.

Diarrhea is an innuendo.

It is an innuendo because it is tells you what you have done (Implication of), and it definitely TELLS you what you have to do in the very near future (Suggestion). It plays with one’s mind, wages psychological warfare on the mind, body and soul of the victim. Almost all of us have gone through it at least once in our lives. Anyone who is old enough to get to this web page has frolicked with it once. It is a beautiful thing; it reminds you of how nice and serene the world is. It is more powerful than love OR making love. It leaves your knees wobbly like you had just laid eyes or hands on the most cherished of your possessions. The love of your lives may not bring that effect that diarrhea brings with it. Ignore what you consider discomfort; the rose would never ever be so beautiful had it not been for the thorns.

It all started with a bit of pizza, a bit of fun and a bit of soft drink. The bit became a bit more than the digestive system could handle independently. Maybe it didn’t like the taste of the pizza. I did enjoy the pizza thoroughly but the after math was not a sight to enjoy, not something to write home about.

It is strange, for someone like I , who enjoys a cup of tea while taking a dump it shouldn’t have been THAT gory, but the way I felt, it seemed as if I was ravaged by a creature come up from the dark pits of the universe, something out of a Stephen King book.

The darkness of the night, it was a cool night, cooler in comparison with the previous three weeks of blistering heat. The skies had opened up and the clouds wept with embarrassment as if they already knew what was about to befall my poor self. The wind whined out side, hitting the house with considerable anger, lightning crashing brings occasional sparks of light to the otherwise dark night. I slept unawares, enjoying the cool wind swirling down from my new ROYAL FAN (after having bought it was I told that you may NOT get Amina Haq with it, she only appears in the advertisement does not jump out of the box, I do not like her particularly but having her around wouldn’t have been bad at all). How? Oh how could it have occurred to naïve old me about how my life was going to change forever?

It was a lesson in relativity. Sharp pangs followed by even sharper ones, cramping in the abdominal/lower abdominal area, spasms in the lower back. It all felt familiar, as if I had heard about it somewhere. I feared the worst; I thought that it was a curse. The utter obsession with the opposite sex had at last come back to haunt me in the worst of manners possible. On the other hand I would be notoriously famous as the first man to ever have a menstrual experience, and since I was a man it meant I had no experience what so ever.

I was sure things were changing and that I would soon be a beautiful woman and go out and haunt the innocent city dwellers like in the stories only I would be Dr. Jekyll and Miss Hydi!. Just to be sure I gave my self a thorough anatomical examination, with the kind of pain I was in I felt like Rambo sewing himself in First Blood. The result was a negative (which in medical terms means good). I am sure that long time back a doctor gave a patient some test and when they came through, the doctor in all his wicked humor teased the patient saying the tests had been negative. This led to the patient swooning and nearing death, due to which the high humored doctor lied about how negative, was good in medical sciences. I am so sure about such stuff that it is scary.
Throughout this pain and confusion I was wondering that if it really happened and what with the recent negative tests, it would happen with my anatomy not supporting the correct accessories to go through painlessly with the experience. This thought sent a fresh shipment of ice shards down my lonely spine column. I knew I would scream, and I was wondering how I would feel and look like while screaming like a girl caught in a Hollywood horror / slasher flick???……..

i hate money, or rather the lack of it

2004-05-21T03:02:00.000-05:00

You are standing on the sidelines, thinking, should i or should'nt i. and then you take that one fatal step. You step out of the beautifully air conditioned office, who cares if the office is decorated worth shit, it has air conditioners. They help you breath. You dont feel the gratitude while sitting in the office. Something hits your face like a hammer. you dont feel much, you cannot. The hair all over you body starts to burn and curl up as if you are standing in an inferno. It most definitely is HOT out there, but please pay no heed to mr. Nelly. Do not, i repeat DO NOT take off all or any of your clothes. You will only die of exposure. The other option is slow death, at the hands of the heat. A man thinks what hell would be like. The sweat your body gives off to keep you cool evaporates even before the glands can push any out. The realisation that you have got NO CAR dawns upon you with the heat of a thousand suns, you cease wondering and start trudging towards the nearest shade, only to find it occupied by enough people the body heat of those people could start a bush fire of its own if they were let loose in the bush. cant start a bush fire without a bush now can we. Amidst this chaos that reigns supreme in one's mind, one realises that one has been talking to one's ownself in the third person. "Man it is hot today, i think you should buy a car now, cant go on like this for long, cant go even a furlong anymore".
however in all this gloom, all the stupid idiomatic dark clouds that just arent there at that time, there is a silver lining. Women!
we happened to leave a client's office right next to liberty market, at about 1.30 pm, high noonish, sun was at its playful best. brows tightened and creased, cheeks reddened with anger, frustration, flustered by the sudden onslaught of amazing nuclear fusion fueled heat, eyes sightless, ears drumming with the last sounds of blood rushing past the tympanic membrane. Tounge stuck to the top of your mouth, no saliva there baby. And that was when we layed our eyes on God's greatest creation to date, WOMAN. All this confusion and there they were, in all calm like little secluded lakes. All of them, out SHOPPING at a time when even the shop owners were reluctant to sell. They were having the time of their lives. Laughing, cheering about how they got the best price possible cause the shopkeeper was too dehydrated to resist their battering. The heat seemed to simply bounce off of them, how can a man resist such strenght and beauty, and intelligence. to come out to do something that you like at a time when you like, at a time that the opponent is at his weakest. The women all over this city are natural generals, right ful heirs to San Tzu and his art of war theories. At a time when all is bad, hair is burnt, cars over heat, air conditioners give up, roads crack, the ladies can put on make up, wear stilletos and walk the walk and talk the talk. Bah! chauvanist fools! Man's world, just beware all corporate people and other important fools, just beware of the day when a woman finally decides that she has shopped enough for the day, that will be the last day you sit in your plush sofa behind your mahogany desk pushing your expensive pen. it will be the revolutionary day of the much awaited coup, and your thrones will be slid from right under you. The only problem that might arise from all this is, that as soon as she takes over the office, she would want to shop again, you have to do something about the decoration you know, it looks like rat lived in here for a thousand years! and frankly cant have any doubt about the rat part anyways.

Poem..Mylog0003.04

2004-05-19T14:52:00.000-05:00

You know it
Just the way I told it
We spent our lives dreaming
To see a rose blooming
Only to know it is screaming
And we long to leave this place
To go to some afar in space
Alone, no one near us

Expression that comes itself
It is evident is not forthcoming
Forced acceptance akin to denial
Self torture mass suicide
Of our nonchalant existence
Let us put as much distance between us and sanity
Taste of tears and smell of my fears
The sea, its breeze and its salinity

All that is pretty
All that is dainty
So full of hate
So much love for pity
Yes I am alone here
Said my prayers, seen the end is near
I want to go there
Alone or with you
Life, it needs a shove and a push

I’ve done with love,
Done with out being sorry
For the loss of one, when all is gone
And till the drowning of the sun

I’ve said my prayers,
Said them for life
Been on my knees
Been there for you
When you were there and now
When you are gone

I’ve said my prayers
With the rising sun
And till it drowns
Am tired now, will leave
Alone and without you
To hell where my life has gone
And come back with the rising sun
The day it doesn’t dawn
On a day that will not drown

why does anything have to have a title?gutterlog0002.04

2004-05-19T10:50:00.001-05:00

SALAM,
THIS IS GOING TO FIND YOU IN GOOD HEALTH, THAT I BELIEVE AND HAVE FAITH IN, CAUSE I HAVE FAITH IN THE ALLMIGHTY. THIS MAIL IS GOING TO BE IN CAPS,CAUSE I AM NOT GOING TO TYPE IT IN NORMAL FONT. THAT IS THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN HAVING A CHOICE AND DESTINY. WHETHER THE FIRST STATEMENT IS TRUE OR NOT, I DO NOT KNOW, BUT I HOPE IT IS, BECAUSE I HAVE NO CONTROL OVER IT WHAT SO EVER, I DO HAVE A SEMBLANCE OF CONTROL OVER THE FONT OF MY MAIL. SIMILARLY IN EVERY OTHER THING GOD HAS GIVEN US A CHOICE. I HAD A CHOICE, I COULD HAVE TURNED OFF THE TV, CHANGED THE CHANEL, PUT ON A MOVIE OF MY CHOICE. BUT I THOUGHT, HELL I BOUGHT THE MOVIE, AND NEVER WATCHED IT, IT IS ON THE CABLE, NOTHING MUCH TO DO, LET'S JUST WATCH IT, AND I DID. AMERICAN PSHYCO, IS A STYLISHLY CARVED, WELL EDITED, SHOCKING EXCURSION INTO THE NOT SO AVERAGE BUT OBSESSIVELY AMBITOUS MIND OF AN AMERICAN CORPORATE OFFICER. IT IS NOT RECOMMENDED, ESPECIALLY IF YOU HAVE ANY INDIVIDUAL THOUGHT PROCESS, DO NOT WATCH IT. IT CAN PROVIDE PLEASURE AND A BIT OF INSIGHT, BUT DESPITE ITS LONG MONOLOGUES FROM THE MAIN CHARATER, IT IS NOTHING BUT A ROAD TRIP TO A COCAINE FUELED HELL. A VEHICLE TO FAME AND FORTUNE, TO BE DIFFERENT IS WHAT THE MOVIE TEAM HAS AIMED. IT IS OLD AND IS EQUALLY SHITTY. IF YOU COME ACROSS SOMEONE WHO LIKES THE MOVIE, PLEASE MAKE SURE ABOUT WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT THAT PERSON. IT IS NOT THAT THE PERSON IS A PSHYCO, BUT IT MIGHT GIVE YOU AN INSIGHT INTO WHAT SORT OF GREY MATTER HE POSSESSES. I HAVE ALWAYS ADVOCATED THAT ANYTHING RELATED TO AESTHETICS AND TASTES OF A PERSON ARE HIS OR HER INDIVIDUAL HOICES. NO ONE HAS THE RIGHT TO SAY THAT YOU ARE WRONG IF YOU HAVE THE FLINTSTONES AS YOUR FAVORITE MOVIE. THE REASON COULD BE ANYTHING AS TO WHY YOU LIKE THAT PARTICULAR THING SO MUCH, WHY ONE
THING APEALS TO ONE IS DIFFERENT AS COMPARED TO WHY IT APEALS TO ANOTHER. SOME PEOPLE WATCH A WHOLE MOVIE BECAUSE OF ONE CHARACTER, SOME FOR ALL OF EM, SOME FOR THE SOUNDTRACK, SOME OF TEH ENDING, SOME FOR THE CINEMATOGRAPHY AND SO ON AND SO FORTH. BUT YOU CANNOT SAY THEY ARE WRONG. NEITHER AM I
SAYING THAT THE PERSON WHO LIKES THE MOVIE IS WRONG. ALL I AM SAYING THAT YOU SHOULD WATCH OUT IF HE LIKES THE MOVIE. I LIKE THE WAY IT WAS MADE, THE SINGULAR SHOCK IT DELIVERED TO ME WAS SUBTLE AND I REALISED THAT I HAD HAD ONE THE DAY AFTER WATCHING IT. HOWEVER WHAT EVER THE MOVIE ENTAILS IS NOT AT
ALL GOOD NOR IS IT HEALTHY.
MY RECOMMENDATION:
READ THE BOOK IF YOU HAVE TO, BUT DONT WATCH THE MOVIE ON A FULL STOMACH. MY
SOURCES TELL ME THAT THE UNEDITED VERSION CONTAINS ORIGINALLY EDITED SCENES
OF SEXUAL VIOLENCE.

REGARDS
D

gutterlog 0001.04

2004-05-19T10:42:00.000-05:00

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