We are all weaker than we'd like to be. And yet we are all so much
stronger than we know.

eeda- daffa ho jao!

On childish innocence and nostalgia...

I miss the times I would be out on errands with my father on lazy
summer days.

I'd sit in the car making faces at passer-bys not being afraid of
looking into their eyes and not being adverse with them looking into
mine.

Not being afraid to tell or ask for the truth or to see the truth of
your many faces- as all that was ugly in the world resided in a list
that included broccoli, dog poop, and early bedtimes. Bellybutton lint
was fascinating and your past didn't really matter as long as you
would come and build a leaf fortress with the mulch in the woods
behind my house.

Dad would sip his coffee contentedly from a styrofoam cup while on
cruise.

And I would accuse him of drinking and driving.

Sent from my iPhone

Almost Farewell

My last week in Lahore.

Savoureverymoment

Goodbyes suck.

I don't want to live in Sialkot...

My kin's my foe if he against me sin;
The stranger proving faith becomes my kin;
If poison helps me, 'tis my antidote,
My poison then is baneful medicine.

-omar khayyam
The rubaiyat

I seriously like gourmet ka pizza! Sheesh. :-p

I seriously like gourmet ka pizza! Sheesh. :-p

On Solitude...

My farewell party was today. Got the 'best hairstyle' award. Yay.
Skits with parodies of students... Teachers... Some singing and
dancing performances... The usual. Took some nice group pictures.

As it was all drawing to a close, most of the people I could
wholeheartedly refer to as friends were gone and I was left walking in
a sea of acquantances. Some techno remix of 'the way I are' was
blaring deafeningly in the background and I was possibly the only
solitary figure there.
I've always had a strange relationship with solitude- its been my most
constant (and paradoxal) companion for the past 8 years. I hate it and
yet in it I find a strange sort of detached comfort.
In boarding school- especially if you're as much of a misfit as I
was- the only way for a person to get some alone time was to mentally
withdraw. You are rarely alone in boarding school. There are memories,
however, of midnight stargazing on the terrace of my boarding house.
Chand Bagh is in a rural area, and the sky is a clear that one can
hardly ever imagine in urban surroundings. And when you're in the
open, once the wind blows, it doesnt seem to stop. Makes the stunted
breezes blowing through our cityscapes look like farts. Over there,
between me and the stars and the cicadas and the smell of soil and
green... There was a fascinating, soothing type of peace.
A strange mood comes over me when I'm at a loud party/concert or any
other event in which people are losing their inhibitions and mingling.
A strange detachment comes over me, although I cannot say that I'm sad
in the deepest sense. Im smiling and laughing and joking, yes. But
there is a certain emptiness inside. One that's always been there. I
feel strangely attuned to it in such situations.
Although the sounds of chiming laughter and blaring music and the
aromas of roasted poultry mingling with that of the musk given off by
young flesh renders most people hedonistically drunk within the
moment...
...I walk in a strange contradictory bubble. Loud rhythms and beats
only emphasize the silence around me. Cascading smoke and violent
colors give way to some sort of communal understanding, some sort of
music that to me is only cacophony. A group joke that only I do not
understand.
Why have I always been so far away when all that I've wanted was to be
a drop within the ocean of normalcy?
This world, however, is one that contains limitless possibilities. De
facto normalcy is something no normal person enjoys.
I wish I could at least have the superficial kind.

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Drifting

There are certain types of excruciating realizations in life.
When you leave a party of your best friends and no one notices.
When you try your absolute best- heart and soul, but it still isn't
good enough.
When you're so deeply devastated, you can only look at yourself with a
strange sort of detachment and icily convince your rational self (that
has been driven out and vanquished into irrationality) that nothing is
wrong.
When you realize that your addiction is killing you and smile bitterly
in defeat.
When you look back at all you've done and instead unearth all that
you've done wrong.
The feeling of having betrayed what you love.
Moments of realization are like miniscule supernovas- huge yet small
at the same time.
They scorch and cauterize us continually. Fragile flames.

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Test(icles)

I love kanjer-puna. Kanjer puna is fucking awesome! :-p

Oh, and just so you ladies know... Having balls isn't all its cut out
to be.

Ok chill out. I'm just checking to see if posting via email works. If
you see this, it does. :-D

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On Blogging...

We should all, perhaps, pray that God gives us the ability to create-
even when we aren't messed up and overloaded with negative energy.

But I guess there will always be that bit of us (I will not be vain
enough to assume that I am alone in this) that takes divine pleasure
on taking that which is eating us from the inside and turning it into
something that resembles beautiful.

Write, friends.... Write.

the futility of understanding

only when east became west
did he realize that the world was round
upon realizing, he jumped for the sky
and soared into the ground

There is the tiniest bit of bitterness in every sweet smile, and the tiniest bit of sweetness in every bitter one. There is always the smallest ying within the yan and vise versa.

We always need a little pain to put all that is good into perspective, don't we? A lot of pain will always make the smallest bit of true happiness go a longer way.

Who says that pain is bad? Sometimes you should just bask in it.Don't like it- but accept it.

A sword may be grateful to the fires of the forge, but it doesn't have to love them.

You drew near and smiled
and You know not
the dreams I then saw
And now, within my heart
I'm not asleep,
nor am I awake
What do I do, then?
thenSomething happens within.













translation of the song: 'kyuch kuch hota hai'. :D

Emotional masochism

you know those sexually frustrated annoying guys? The ones that girls ignore or give the finger to in college? The ones incessantly sending them the notorious 'fraanship' texts? The ones that get perpetually blocked on MSN? The ones that all guys ridicule?

I am no better than any of them.

Avoid me. I suck.

To Reconsider...

Men often fool themselves into delusions of grandeur. I am yet another
example of such men.

Always, have I been enclosed by parameters that I have been unwilling
to break. And now that the time to act is gone, I look back and regret
all the possibilities of what could have been- what I could have done.

Had my life been worthy of being recorded in any type of history, it
would be recanted as a tale of wasted potential, of a wretch so
consumed by himself, that he consumed himself. A fire that burned all
the oil and yet gave off no light.

And now that I see this, I ask myself; how was it that I allowed
myself to dream of you? To hope of you? Was the paltry fact that I
believe I could see through all your emotional armor to the beautiful
human inside enough if a reason? I guess not.

I have continually proven to be too weak to break free of these
barriers that life has thrust upon me. Yes, I wish with all my heart
that I could wear the shackles of your love like a king would wear a
crown. But then where would I put the chains that I was born wearing?
They seem not to leave room for anything else.

I'll not ask you now. I've known the answer from the start anyway. I
am enamoured, yes. But what I desire seeks to evade me like wisps of
smoke escaping from between my fingers. Like that memory that lies an
agonizing hairsbreadth from your conciousness. In that situation,
whether the distance is of millimeters or miles, it doesn't matter.

I'm sorry. For myself most of all.

canker sore

There is nothing quite like having something to wake up to in the morning. Be it someone, an event, a project, or just a lazy day. There simply is no escaping that strange sense of giddy peace that surrounds you, the sweet discontent, the trembling with anticipation.

Everyone should have something to wake up to.

What's your 'something'?