All my Friends are Superheroes.

I have just heard (not read it) about the book by Andrew Kaufman about a normal person in a world full of superheroes.

In the book all the characters have some super power which they never used and didn't know that they posses any super power.

On one level....I think...“All My Friends Are Superheroes” is a charming love story. Where a person who does not posses any special ability surrounded by superheroes who love him and care about him.

But on the other hand it’s really funny where a world full of people with dubious super powers rather than saving the world with evil-doers....these plain clothed superheroes often have regular jobs and can find no real use for their special abilities.

And when they visited by a normal person who not only acknowledge their super powers but also describe them how they can use it to protect and to serve their country and got them thinking.

And thus this got me thinking too...hmm....

And I thought...I am that normal person who does not posses any special power or have no special ability...hmm...yet I am surrounded with friends...all of them containing some special power in them...

And if I am to acknowledge what would be the superpower of my friends?

Just suppose for a while that all of you…my friends…comrades…have some special abilities which you have not yet discovered and if I ask you to simply stop for a while and think about yourself…

I leave this to you of course although I am tempted to suggest your super power myself…but this is not how the story goes…so you have to find it out yourself…hmmm…

Also…do let me know what you find out by commenting me or emailing me...whatever is convenient..hmm....

But there is a rule too…once you find out your super ability you have to use it frequently and freely for the betterment of world and survival of humanity.

Thanks for reading.

Perhaps…this will be my last blog posting this year...so...have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

hmm....

Home made Spells

hmm....greetings from…hmmm…me !

Thought I'll share with you guys this little 'spell' that a friend taught me !

He had a friend who had been single for quite some time and 'at that old age???…wow'... anyways…back to the topic.

So…he advised him to throw an orange into a river on the last day of the year 2010.

hmm....yes...he did!

He then met that girl and one year to the date that he threw the orange…he married…hmm….

hmmm... how romantic....

So…I reckon this might just work (no..no…not for me…but for my single friends) !

All of these little spells originated from somewhere - once upon a time anyway.

Therefore…find a river….throw in your orange... - and you might just find yourself a mate in a year's time :)

Oh by the way my friend advised that if you're a girl....throw an apple!

Also…don't be greedy - hmm....one fruit per person please!

We can then develop a whole new tourist attraction setting up little shops selling oranges and apples by River Sindh being the nearest one to Karachi.

For those of you with no access to rivers…I will ask my software geek type of a friend to develop a software where we could do this online – so…...hmm...will let you know once we have set up a virtual ritual instead….

Well good luck friends!

I think it's worth a try…

For those of you who are intending to try…do let me know if it works :-)…..

Because this SPELL just came out from my very mouth today…hmmm…for desperate someone and find it the best way to get rid of him.

ahhh….me and my HOME MADE SPELLS….hmmm....

Surrender

" There are no walls around me...hmmm"

I wrote it in my diary first day after my marriage.

It took me only few days to realize that now there are other kind of walls...mainly invisible walls.

Only I need to learn about their presence....respect their sovereignty...abide by their rules...

I could not neglect them....trespass them...I could not disregard them.

This meant not only learning their(my In-Laws) life style but also mastering the verbal and non-verbal codes of interaction....the styles of communication.

Many times unaware of these walls I asked the 'wrong' question....

volunteered an unappropriated answer...

looked too closely when I suppose not to 'see'...

listened too intently when I was assumed not to 'hear'...hmmm....

Heaven knows how often I talked when I should have kept silent and how frequently I should have talked but remained mute ...producing nothing but silence...long... embarrassing silence.

And thus I stumble over these walls....so many times...and my stumbling always open my eyes....and it hurts.

For so many times I felt outside the circle...out of place...dislocated...dislodged.

I felt suspended....between my past and my present...hmm..

Different cultural experiences...values...dreams...nightmares...has caused a disturbing disruption in my identity....

I lived surrounded by a past that was breaking up around me with violent rapidity.

I looked every way around me for a sense of familiarity...of belonging and reunion...

I want something solid to hold on to...and thus I stopped running in two directions at once...

I tried to learn the new ways...get myself familiarized with preset...

In these years...I have finally master how to negotiate the unfamiliar...new...invisible walls...

In short...I again...hmm...have surrendered my Freedom.

Why should I stop, why?

The birds have gone off to find water ways

the horizon is vertical and moving is rocketing.

Shining planets spin

at the edge of sight.

Why should I stop, why?

Just Chill

My elder sister visited my mother few days back….and told me at the end of the trip that I am officially 'old with a lot of pent up frustrations! '...Why?

hmm...she officially declared that I am not able to chill anymore.

Ok...ok...ok..I confess…I can't chill when I stuck on the road in our small office van due to traffic jam everyday for about 4 hours.

I have to mentally prepare for not being able to stretch - I have to mentally prepare for who will be sitting beside me - I have to be 'territorial' about space. I am no longer 25 years old and the bone is just slightly creaky...and I can’t talk non-stop everyday for these 4 hours straight and as well can’t listen to people all over me (it seems though they all keep their distance) for these 4 hours everyday.

I can't chill when on a bus (public transport) no one checks in their luggages and chickens..ducks...ham get lugged onboard alongside super size trunks...and cartons of bricks!

And want me to give them space to sit besides me with all their stuff.

I can't chill when rikhshaw drivers challenge me about where I am going and tell me I should have crossed the road to pick a rikhshaw because of the direction I am going

- NO - I want you to do a U Turn - just drive!!

I can't chill when in a non-smoking restaurant….customers are allowed to smoke because the waiter/waitresses are too scared and not properly trained to manage the situation instead they give me lesson about how to use their crockery.

I can't quite chill when I am not sure where I am going whenever I am driving my mother as she always have a definite plan before leaving home and once we get ourselves inside the car she always seems to forget that PLAN…and poor me forcefully being asked to ‘Don’t ask…too many question….JUST DRIVE’…on a daily basis.

It's not me... ahh…believe me - I am sure it's not me..

hmm- check me…in these conditions…early morning…when people are still in their bed…give me a chair to be seated…a cup of coffee put me in front of sea...

...hmm....and I can show you CHILLLLL...

The Exceptional

I am not here to sell Waheed Murad..hmm....

So I will not talk about his rise and fall during his acting and production career though this rise and fall is common in Performing Art Industry.

What I am to talk about here is that he was exceptional in every way…besides his best acting, he was accomplished producer, a good friend and a good human being.

What made him exceptional is his far sightedness on topics he chooses for the movies under his production.

Which was of course not been noticed by the audiences but since he touched the common man with the topics which united them before as well and in result the beloved Pakistan emerged....he readily captured the audience.

Intentionally or unintentionally he choose the subjects related to the history or present state of Pakistan or its people and this made his movies being readily accepted by every class.

Have you ever listen to any of his movie song as National songs or song which relate to the present state of Pakistan or may be related to the history of Pakistan?

Have you notice the point at which you feel yourself united with your brethren while listening to any of the songs from Waheed Murad movie and have you ever get a chance to listen to the song while imagining the Pakistan’s present state?

If you have not…than let me give your imagination powers one more world to ponder in and where your conscience will love to wander…

Listen to the song I am giving a link below:



And consider the wordings:

Ek naye moor pay lay aye hain halaat mujhay
Dil nay jo mangi wohi mill gayee soghat mujhay

Door rah ker bhi khayaloon mein mere pass ho tum
Kitnay pyaray hain yeah jazbaat yeah lamhaat mujhay

Dil mein ek ajnabi ehsaas key khushboo jagi
Ajj lagty hay her ek baat nayee baat mujhay

Tum kabhi khud ko meri ankhon say chup ker daikho
Kia kahoon tum mein nazr atty hay kia baat mujhay

Now close your eyes and consider the feelings of sub-continent’s Muslim who are dreaming about their new state where they will have the freedom of their choice…where they can pursue their dreams their own way…where they will have the freedom of performing best in their religion…where they can earn the production and where they can get the share in Government.

The wording of the above song exactly match the feelings of the Sub-Continent Muslim who are at the verge of making decision to migrate to their new born state.

Its Waheed Murad’s Death Anniversary on Wednesday, 23 November …

I want to dedicate this song to him and want to salute the artist for bringing the Pakistani Cinema the lustre and shine it lacked before him joining the party.

May Allah rest his soul in peace. Ameen.

Note: Please visit these blogs to read how other tributes Waheed Murad:

Current Affairs with Tariq Mian Sahib

Khurram's Desk

IQBAL-ISM

Impressions and Perceptions

Caravan of Light

Unity in Universe

Rumi, Iqbal and Me

Selfless Devotion

The Discovery

The Republic of Rumi

hmm....

Chatting

I confess that I am not at all like my mother and elder sisters. They all are very sensitive…good cook…perfect house keeper…understanding neighbour…all the time accommodative women…more like mentor to younger people.

I literally get embarrassed on my ~easy going way~ to entertain guests…where they always have to take prior appointment to visit my house…hmm....considered as ‘not very friendly’ in neighbourhood and always blurted out bluntly something to younger people to shoo them away…

How I missed those “the good old days” as my mother always start the story with same exclamation…one of the things I love best about hearing tales of “the good old days” is the camaraderie between neighbours and the kinship that linked generations.

Little girls learned how to be women simply by being with the women in their lives.

Cooking…keeping house…taking care of babies — all the ins and outs of womanhood were learned as a matter of course…simply by one generation absorbing these things from previous ones.

This old-fashioned...front-porch style of passing on values and skills seems lost on me.

May be because I am simply too busy to be involved in other’s lives and because I am a very scattered person...hmmm....

I live hours — or even days — away from my mother and my beloved husband family.

I have more technology at my fingertips than previous ones ever dreamt possible; email...instant messaging...texting and cell phones all enable me to keep in touch with loved ones...literally at the touch of a button.

Yet I am more emotionally distant and withdrawn from those around me than generations past.

How many times I try to find out more about my next-door neighbours than their first names?

How many times have I invited friends from office into my home?

And then I think about it…why?

Since we have lost the ‘connectedness’ of our grandmothers and great-grandmothers….somehow the PERFECT WOMAN picture has been suddenly change to the one projected by Hollywood…Bollywood and not the least Lollywood…

You know what I’m talking about..hmm...

The illusion that real womanhood revolves around keeping up on the latest fashions...perfect figure..filling your home with designer furniture...driving expensive vehicles...having picture-perfect kids and a successful....mannequin-handsome husband.

If anyone finds their visitor/relative/colleague or friend to-be lives falling short of this picture-perfect scenario they discard further meetings.

And that is what making me distant from people around me…I don’t have PERFECT LIVING and PERFECT HOUSE or PREFECT WAYS to invite people…I don’t have perfect ways to become a friend… makes me shy away from people.

It’s too “risky” to ask people over for dinner. They might criticize my imperfections and it’s easier just to keep everyone a safe distance away.

The thought that perhaps some of the younger girls in my circle of friendship might like to spend some time in MY company probably doesn’t even enter my mind.

I mean…teenagers don’t like the types of things I like — they probably think I’m an old…worn-out fogey…(which I highly doubt)anyway.

I am a self-contained….self-absorbed woman and like a plant with shallow roots…I will withers on the vine.

Anyways…I love one definition of a mentor: “Someone farther down the path then you...who is going where you want to go....and who is willing to give you some light to help you get there”.

Accordingly…we can all be a mentor to someone.

So who can I invite for a little front porch chat this week?

hmm...anyone interested?

Show some respect !

I and beloved husband were waiting for a lift whilst waiting….a couple joined me...hmm...

A very young….quite attractive woman and a middle aged man.

She was holding on to his little finger -- quite affectionately.

She couldn't stop talking - in quite a fast mode and very high pitch (rather annoying)....he was all quiet....looking very stern and expressionless-

hmm...and then....the lift door open and he very abruptly and loudly said "KEEP QUIET" ....

At that moment…we (me and my beloved husband looked at each other) must have exhibit some kind of expression which I think annoyed the girl…..but my actual response was to kick the man - for being rude to his " wife" ... not sure what my beloved husband had in mind…

hmmm...I admit….she was noisy and I would have liked for her to stop talking but….that I thought was absolutely disrespectful.

She shut up immediately and still held on to his little finger. His face was still expressionless - slightly charcoal black....she seemed oblivious to it all....

I guess some people can't put up with lots and maybe he's in a bad mood and maybe... she's just really noise and needs to be told off!

I remember once I was in a shop and at the payment bar…the husband when he didn’t find his credit card in his wallet started shouting at his wife for not checking before leaving home.

There are so many times when I have to hold my breath…anger...hmmm and tongue to my husband just because we are surrounded with strangers and I am sure my beloved husband done same with me…I think more than I for him…

I vote for respect to your partner - whatever the situation.

If you choose them....you gotta live with it!

Bumped

So after Eid-ul-Adha…the time is for lots of marriages and Bar BQ parties. And I never turn down any BBQ party…hmmm….aahh…me and my eating habits…sigh…

And I recently bumped into my ex..hmm..

Someone I thought I quite 'love' - a long time ago or may be even now.

Actually….it's not really 'bumped' - it was kind of 'planned.'

Was at a BBQ organized by a cousin and I knew he would be invited.

At first I thought I should not go…anyway…I was there…of course I made lots of efforts to look 'good but casual' -

It's only a BBQ but…hmm….boy…..did I go through my entire wardrobe trying to find something that would look like I have absolutely not made any efforts!

hmm…saw him and slightly shy at first ( that's me - not sure about him) but….as we got chatting - or actually….it's more like as we all got talked at….it all came back! -

hmm….the reasons why we broke up...and how he told me that every thing I do…every action of mine…is just so irritatingly 'wrong' .

Of course….at the back of my mind - it's this constant nagging and 'question mark' about how and why and where I made the mistake which pissed him off…!

A far as I remembered...myself...holding on to his every words…thinking that he was really cool and friendly….lots of ideas and opinions - nothing he did was wrong. Seeing him would just made me smile.

I don't know how and when (in his eyes) my position shifted from sweetheart to reviler during the time we were together.

It was almost an overnight thing but it was like the sky suddenly opened up…something heavy dropped on his head…he lost his memory…and changed completely…

I once read somewhere that it's because we forgot to put "postage" on the eyes and therefore…got ourselves misposted to the wrong men/women.

It's funny though how we often think we've met the right person….wanted to give them the moon….the stars…the love…the heart…and everything until the day we split up - and realised how unlucky we were to be with 'him/her.'

The lesson there is never say never and never ever say 'forever'...hmmm....

Well I am quite glad that we are no longer together but despite him being my ex - making the effort…to look 'good' was definitely the right thing to do….I guess…hmm….

Too short !

I am not conservative…hmm….or may be I am…. - well....I don't think I am.

But….there are certain things which I am just not able to get over.

And its about women apparel in the office building…

Sleeve less shirts….I mean very deep sleeve less shirts….or very short skirts or hot pants during office hours - matched with stiletto heels!

I can't tell anymore if it's a very wide belt or just an extremely sleeveless shirt!

This morning…(hmm….I envy all those who were enjoying their time at home while me lonely person was working alone….not exactly alone…I had three other young colleagues…in between I consider Brian D’ Souza as my PET)…. and as I walked into the office building….my eyes were exposed to high amounts of 'flesh' and it just didn't feel quite right.

If it had been my own colleague I would have given her my white dupatta to cover her up…since we were having strong Air Conditioning in the office….but she turned to the other building which means she is working in some other nearby office…but she left we wondering…

I think we have moved quite far from matching power suits to 'casual but professional' in the last few years but….the current 'office fashion' around town certainly takes it all to a new height.

Well….maybe I am conservative after all. But I don't think mixing weekend and beach wear with work fashion is 'appropriate'...

Since….my mother used to say….hmm….'some things are best left covered – otherwise….our men will have nothing left to the imagination' …..

By the way did I mention that there is a big…fat…and quite ugly lizard in our Office kitchen?

And I am the poor one who can’t live without tea….hmmm…..

Marriage Bed

I don't know if it's just me…hmmmmm…if it runs in the family or if it's just something that happens when one hits a certain age.

When I was young-er...hmmm....I used to think that it's really quite 'romantic' to share a bed with someone we love.

But now….I am very particular about my bed….which side of the bed I hop in and which side I hop out…where the alarm clock sits….where pillows will lay and how they are set up.

And...sharing my bed - hmmm….I kind a don't like that at all. I can't really get a good sleep sharing bed with anyone...hmm....

I am conscious of every movement…the slight snoring….the breathing and the 'limited space' for any stretching.

When I was really young….we used to visit our ancestral home where my great grandpa and my 2 great grandmas lived with a 'million' other relatives.

We used to have to go from greatgrandpa's room to greatgrandma No1 and then greatgrandma No2 during summer holidays…then it was our duty to visit all three in the morning to pay respect.

All three of them had big beds in reasonable-sized bedrooms. All three sleeping separately. I remembered asking mom why they all had individual rooms…and mom's reply was - That's what old people do.

My grandpa and grandma were the same - they both slept separately. At that time….the young naive romantic me thought to myself that I would never ever sleep in separate rooms/bed with my husband - NEVER!

hmmmmm... I am not so sure now. I think a good night sleep is important. Having someone fidgeting left….right and centre beside me ruin it.

I am begining to believe that mom is probably right. – OLD people need to sleep in separate beds/rooms - so that they can have proper rest!

A friend of mine told me that he sleeps much better and straight through the night when he is on business trips in a hotel compared to when he is at home as he is a light sleeper and every little move that his wife made will 'disturb' him. He really quite enjoys sleeping in hotel beds - the Westin 'heavenly' beds are apparently the best!

I think…a good night's sleep is the most important thing ever. Maybe it's not just 'old' people.

Maybe young people never quite realised that actually....it's all just social conventions and norms that can be broken - who says marriage couple must share a bed?

Sleeping in separate rooms/beds does not prevent us from leading 'normal' marriage life.

In fact..hmm...it might do wonder for 'the happiness' barometer. A good night sleep means we are energetic...we are clear headed...we are happy ;;; :)...

Must try the Westin 'heavenly' bed sometime soon...hmmm….

I am Malika Bahar !

Now how a woman would feel when wherever she goes she takes spring with her...fill the air with scent?

How lovely it is to have such charm and personality that spring is a constant attribute everyone relates to you?

How fascinating it is just to think of getting at once the whole attention of your surrounding by just arriving between them….?

So I am Malika Bahar !

1: I can ask for long vacations from my manager…capture by my charm…he without any hesitation sign my vacation request….to him…a smile…hmm....would be life time provision.

2: If I stand at the bus stop every big...air conditioned car stops by me and wait on me to get my attention..hmmm…to them…a ride…would be life time provision.

3: In family gatherings…when I about to take entry the whole hall suddenly broke into shouts of my praise…Spring is here…Spring has come… hhmm....as they see the flowers starts blooming and there is a breeze of fresh scented air everywhere…to them...my presence…would be life time provision.

4: When I finally reach in the hall they…leave their seat to see my resplendent face and world-adorning beauty(except my mother as I know she would not sustain anything for me whatever I become) everyone bow down and fight to reach for my hand….to them…a touch…would be life time provision.

5: When I visit my In-Laws….hmmm....they all cry out loudly…and say…”we are your admirers and followers....we are ready to sacrifice ourselves like moths on the burning taper of your resplendent aspect. Show us favour in our miserable condition. Admit us into your servitude, O Dear one! Augment our honor by allowing us to wait upon you.”…to them…YES....would be life time provision.

6: When I come back home…beautiful moonlike girl workers spread an ermine carpet on the floor…they welcome me and request to take my place on jewel-encrusted bed with lamps and bouquets placed before me. They help me dress a luxurious night gown covered with jewels and held a hot chocolate cup besides my bed whole night waited on me if I needed anything else…to them…my sleep…..would be life time provision.

hmm....do I have to tell you...that...I am (alas) not or can’t be (which I doubt) Malika Bahar at all....?

But just think....what if I am Malika Bahar....what would you as a Malika Bahar reader be doing right now?...hmm....?

Inspired by character Malika Bahara taken from Tilism-e-Hoshruba is an epic narrative of the adventures of the legendary Persian hero Emir Hamza—the protagonist of Hamza Nama—his sons and grandsons. The epic opens with the commander-in-chief of the Islamic army, Hamza, pursuing Laqa, who makes false claims to divinity.

Aided by powerful allies and beset at every step by magical snares, dangerous enchantments and seductive sorceresses, the Islamic army finally conquers Hoshruba.

Malika Bahar was at first enemy but when she see the truth and spirit of Muslims...she on the promise to herself that after the war between evil and truth she will renounced her magic...joined the Muslim army and fought with them.

She has the spell of BAHAR (spring)...she takes spring with her...she throws the bouquets in the air to spell the magic on the enemy...she never needs army since everyone get spell bound to her only on her arrival in between them. She was smart and intelligent and knows how to play her cards.

I don't want to work !

My mom always reminded all 3 of us (daughters) to "study hard...be independent....never rely on a man to take care of you - even if you married a super rich man....you must work and you must be independent -men are NOT reliable and the minute you stretch your hand out for money...you'll lost their respect!"....

hmmm…rather harsh but....that's how most girls my generation were brought up - I think.

I was watching a programme on TV the other day and realised that those who fought hard for women's right to work would be rather appalled when they realised that actually there are many many many women who view it their rights NOT TO WORK!

…including me….

Increasingly, there are many young women who deem it their absolutely right to stay at home - and that it is the men who have to go out and support the women.

…including me….

Some women felt that if they are married to someone....then everything the guys own then belong to them and that the men would have to pay everything because by nature of being women....they will 'lose out‘ after marriage.

So….the poor guy would need to continue to demonstrate love and care and 'compensate' the woman for agreeing to marry him.

Admittedly….it's always nice to have a super rich man (or a super rich dad!) because I can then choose to do whatever I want at whatever salary and not worry about my credit card bills or mortgage or my next holiday etc.

But...that would be 'lucky'(hmmm...which I highly doubt I am) -- and I would still wanna work -

My money is still my money - his money...hhmmm....would be nice to have a bit of that too!! :)

And...no....I am not materialistic and I am definitely not a feminist -

Just realistic! ;)

Disposition

Waheed and I have been almost inseparable for about a year now.

More precisely....since August 15th...hmmm....

The same day that Zaiba moved out of my life.

To be honest.... I dumped Zaiba without warning and took up with Waheed.

Relationship with Zaiba had been difficult from the start.

Zaiba was demanding...hmmm....always craving my attention. And I can never get her to do what I want her to.

Waheed on the other hand...is solid...easy to read....dependable.

I really feel comfortable with Waheed....probably because I felt in control of the relationship.

Zaiba...hmmm....on the other hand....made me examine my own weaknesses....mental and physical.

Yes...I admit....the problem was with me....not with Zaiba.

The fact is that I adore Waheed. And Zaiba?

Well...let’s just say that I needed her.

And through this blog I’d like to find out how other people have coped with the stress of this sort of relationship..hmmm.....Is it just me?

But let me first introduce you all with Waheed and Zaiba…

Zaiba….was my LG KS360 mobile phone.

Waheed is a sturdy Nokia N82 with line like buttons and a simple keyboard.

Zaiba had a QWERTY keyboard that means tiny buttons and small characters.

I disliked Zaiba from the start....mostly because of my own physical failings.

The keys are far too small. Or my fingers are too big....(which I highly doubt)...hmm....

Then....the letters on the keys are too small to read.

It used to take me so long to send a text. Apart from the finger size and vision issues....I’m so used to the old phone keyboards where you type the ‘ghi’ button 3 times to get the letter ‘i’, that I used to write stuff like ‘III tthhiiinnkk ssssooo’....instead of ‘I think so’.

So....yes....the problem is my brain as well as my body.

I’m conditioned....and too old to do much about it.

So I use to sent really short texts....which confuses friends and family who are used to chatty messages.

The longest text I sent from Zaiba says simply....hmm.....‘Thanks’. (Well, ‘Thakns’, actually.)

Yes...Zaiba....changed my life.

I think I have made it clear that all my problems with Zaiba are my fault.

At least they were....until August 10th....when she suddenly told me that I would....from that moment on....need a password to access her multiple functions.

Because of my pathetic fingers and even more pathetic eyes....I never manage to get the password right first time....sometimes it takes me three or four goes.

So where did I stand with Zaiba?

I must admit....the email function itself is brilliant. The password bit isn’t.

The application possibilities and media sync are great. The keyboard isn’t.

But aren’t all relationships like that? A bit of give....a bit of take…hmm...but when Zaiba refused to give me any attention....I had to give her away.

Well....It’s been fun to blog....to get things off my chest.

I hope Zaiba will forgive me dumping her for Waheed.

It will become me !

My dear father often speaks of the first time he saw her….when she was coming down the stairs in the black satin saree...hmmm.....

Though they were cousins but that was may the first time he noticed her.

I also have little memory of seeing her in the same attire in the family gatherings in my childhood…and whenever I saw her in the black satin saree I remembered what my father revealed to me…

Today I was under her roof….seeing her is in my routine now...

I was waiting for her in the living room....looking up….I saw a portrait on the wall…of a beautiful girl…in a curious….old-time costume.

The soft dark eyes and regal turn of the head told me that it was my hostess in her youth….and even as I looked….and wonder on her sparking beauty…

I heard the rustle of the cloths….and smelt the faint odor of sandalwood….and she came softly in..hmmm…..bearing a parcel.

“I think you might like to have it…I don’t expect you to wear it…but I think if you ever try it out…it will become you….” She handed me the parcel with faint smile.

I saw her hands trembling due to the weakness and illness she is going through nowadays…

I took the parcel…put it on my laps…lifted fold on fold of tissue paper…hmmm…..I looked….expecting fairy thing of lace and muslin….I saw - - the black satin saree.

“I think the saree will become you; it has been considered handsome.” She glanced fondly at the shining fabric.

hmm....I sighed….and said.

“Definitely I will try it out mother….and I am sure it will become me!”

I am aging !

"A man who lived by digging graves survived

To ripe old age. A neighbor said: "You've thrived

For year, digging away in one routine-

Tell us the strangest thing you have ever seen."

He said: "All things considered, what's most strange

Is that for seventy years without a change

That dog, my Self, has seen me digging graves,

Yet neither dies, nor alters, nor behaves !"

Every day ends now on disappointment...hmmm....without understanding the cause of my disappointment I sleep so that I can start another day.

Looking at gray sky now contract my heart…hmm….I suffered every time I heard the singing of the birds and suffered more by changing of season.

Is it may be I am aging...most people remember age with pleasure and regrets its passing but I always see my age as bars and shackles of a jail…

I am provided with a tongue and tears…even when I will old like a hag…then why I worrying….?

What I want?

I want may be the wisdom….freedom….to open my hearts door and lighted its corners.

I am aging without gaining freedom….without any wisdom….

As a falcon I am suffering in my cage when ever I see a flock of birds flying freely in the spacious sky.

It is ok for those who born dead and who exist like a frozen corpses but the person who feels much and know little is the most unfortunate creature under the sun.

I don’t want to be a gravedigger who digs grave for others but could never change himself.

My Failure !

When I was a little girl I was determined to make my name prominent in this world…hmmm...

I strongly detest to even thinking of just filling up the space of this world and not doing anything extra ordinary..hmm....

I loved so many and make so many beloved…but unfortunately couldn’t become a beloved myself to anyone…

I totally failed in love…hmm...

I wanted to be FREE….I wanted to be free of the way people think about me….I wanted to be free of what everyone expects from me…I wanted to become a spirit…ghost…who don’t need barriers….

But my freedom turns out to be my failure as an accomplished person….

My failure as a daughter restricts me to become a mother…I am afraid of having children…

My failure as a good human restricts me to meet people and makes me hide myself in internet…where people know me the way I tell them…

I hide myself because I don’t want to accept the fact that I have failed in this life…

My failure as a morally strong person hurts me and restricts me to accept my defeat...

So now…I am leaving my hiding place...I will confront the truth...I will accept my defeat.

Blogoversary

My blog has finally completed its third year…hmmm….

Because I was not in a habit of sharing my thoughts to people face to face…hmm…I started this blog. I am not shy but something always stops me whenever I say anything that whether my opponent has any interest…who knows…s/he doesn’t.

When I first started blogging…I worried about not being able to sustain it because I might run out of ideas to write about.

Although I’m quite opinionated…I often do not go about publishing all my thoughts online…ahh…I can’t be that vernacular online…you know…I’d rather much keep them to myself or write them in my notebook. In writing you have to be very careful since you can’t always express clearly what you want to say.

I thought lack of content to write about will someday be the reason that I will just leave this blog lying around the cyber world….abandoned.

Although I have only few close people around me such as:

1: Beloved Husband

2: My ailing Mother

3: ME

4: My limited dear Friends

I always find something amusing to share with you people everyday while only few get the privilege to finally come up as a blog post.

3 years has passed and I can’t count how many post I published…deleted and how many posts I have saved as draft. But whatever I published here I found tremendous comments and attention from wonderful reader/visitors.

My gratitude goes out to the people whom I shared several of my experiences that I’ve documented in this blog and to those who helped I made those experiences come true.

Of course to the readers (so really, are you one of the 115?), my appreciation goes out to you.

I hope I somehow provided a bit of knowledge (which I highly doubt)…suggestions…opinions and humor to your life.

Thanks for checking out my blog once in a while…it means a lot that some people are actually interested in reading about my craziness.

Most of all…thanks to those who were both with me and continuously read this site at the same time. I couldn’t have done this without you.

So…want to send me some love?

Or do you have suggestions as to what you want to read?

Type something in the comment box and hit “submit”. I love reading comments.

Till the 4th year....

I hope...hmmm...!

SELF

The very word..hmm...

SELF…elicit strong emotion...

hmm... excitement... hesitation...

...or may be even confusion.

Where do Self come from?

How do you find it or use it?

And most importantly...do you have one?

The exciting part of discovering your SELF is that you grow into it and with it !

SELF can be what gets you up in the morning...hmm...or makes you feel alive.

It's the once area of life that you feel like you were created for the very purpose of doing.

It's also where you feel the Allah's pleasure or presence the most.

Our Maker gives us SELF as a way to give us part of Himself.

Have you ever stop and asked any of these questions to you:

1: What breaks you heart and baffles your mind?

2: What si the one thing in life you can't stand?
3: Why did you get up this morning?
4: What makes you weep with joy or sorrow?
5: In what area did the Maker give you talents?

Actually finding yourself depends on your passion.

You should first find out what your passion is....you should pray to Allah to reveal to you your passion...or how to know about it if you already have one !

I am passionate about being a writer.

Passion takes you from WHAT to WHY. Writing is my passion but why writing is my passion is the question.

Actually it arises from our heart....try to find WHAT is the WHY of your passion.

The root of our passions came from either joy or pain in our lives.

Writing became my passion because I find solace in it when people didn't want to listen to me I started writing.

Suffering and pain are often the means the Lord uses to make us passionate about changing something and making a difference to the world.

Some of our greatest passions come from our biggest wounds.

Writing gives me joy.

Passion helps you inspire people....you can create and you can make a difference in the world with your passion. And bringing a change in this world is another joy.

Try to find your passion...what gives you joy...what basically you think you should do...and by finding these answers you will find yourself.

Don't get afraid of your passion....because this is the first step to find yourself.

..hmmm...

My Fair Van Wala

For my Van Wala(Driver)…hmm…Driving is like completing a puzzle game.

While running towards the halted cars in front of red signal he always try best to settle his van in between the little gaps other cars left by either mistake or overlooking and when he did it we find our van in between old...new...big and small cars like we have crammed our van...

...and I can see the pride on my Van Wala face that he completed the puzzle...it satisfied him on his right guess that the space will accommodate our van.

Once you enter the long route where you will see and will accompany so many cars for a while like a cheap video game which keep repeating the same vision...and it become very hard to keep your eyes off from the other drivers who get irritated by his uncertain overtaking...needless horns and turning right or left without indicators...most of the time showing or waiving their hand’s middle finger to him.

But nothing can stop him and he keep on fancying the other drivers by driving closer to them or always keep his van ahead of their cars.

But the real adventure starts when we have BUS or a TRUCK as our company...he never miss any chance to run along the BUS with only few inches gap in between, always try his best to use breaks when he is at the front of the bus and always turn left or right when there is inches gap between van’s bumper and bus’s front grill…

All of the girls in the van get irritated by his driving in such dare as he never let any other car (big or small) bully his driving.

He has been ticketed by the Traffic controller constable so many times and his driving license and van’s paper are been confiscated by the controller long time ago…so now if we are stopped by any of the constable and asked to provide the driving license or van’s paper…”its already with you guys” is his answer…I don’t think he ever care to pay the ticket to get his papers back.

There are certain things he never cared about:

1: Signals (either RED or Green…hmm)
2: Stray Animals (like cats, dogs, cows, even camels can’t slow him down)
3: Traffic Constable
4: Road crossing people…poor pessengers dropped by our super active busses in the middle of the road
5: Zebra Line (ahh…what’s that…?)

Since I joined the van I always try to calm him and asked him to slow down...

We never wanted him to speed...and he never took a heed.

But now I am so much in a habit of his driving that I don’t like my beloved husband’s slow driving…ahh…I mean normal driving.

I always used to think that what kind of the driving school he took his driving lessons from...what his driving teachers used to look like…

Until one day I asked him...from where he learned driving.

"I learned it from my brother…he gave me free driving lessons." he said.

"hmm…its very generous of him and what he do?" I smiled.

"He works for EDHI foundation and he is an AMBULANCE driver." He innocently told me.

hmmm…that....explained everything…..

Thus I cried !

Sometimes…heart acts like a child of the starving poor….who cries for food.

Become bitter by hunger…and disregard all the plight of his poor and merciful mother and never consider the poor mother’s defeat…hmmm….

Sometimes….heart congested itself with secrets…hmm….heart knows it is going on wrong way but it keep itself on the same way….

And when heart realizes that what it has done….

The heart ask for one more chance…from Divine…the heart wants the expression for such labyrinth…the heart want to release….because the ribs are about to burst with the growing of heart’s confinement..hmm....and there is no other way except a surge of release.

The heart request for the joy…from Divine….

Sorrowful persons find joy in lamentation….and the lovers encounter comfort and condolence in dreams and the oppressed delight in receiving sympathy….and…hmm….heart…?

Heart finds joy in crying.

And thus I cried!

Noteworthy Letters !

The correspondence started when a girl of only 12 years old found no one around her who can understand her...hmmm...

She not only wanted a good listener but also wanted a good person who can answer her.

She wanted to get inspired, she wanted to question, she wanted to raise concern.

She wanted a FRIEND.And she knows that her questions...her concerns...and her voice is larger than herself.

And thus she started the conversation with the PERSON...larger than her thoughts...and her dream.

It was her sheer good luck that she found a person of accuracy and liberty...love and brotherhood was his motto and Pakistan was in his blood.

Please do visit the blog which contain correspondence deserving a wider audience.

Noteworthy Letters : http://thinking-worthyletters.blogspot.com/.

The Question !

As soon as I asked the QUESTION she starts crying.

She put her head on my shoulder started with sobs which is ok for a bride to be...since it is obvious that she has already started missing her family and friends but soon the sobs became crying.

I get scared though I didn’t at all understand why she is crying like a baby but she continued and there was nothing in my hand to stop her.

I tried to console her…give her assurance that she will be ok…in her family-to-be…but somehow she was so hurt that none of my assuring comments calmed her.

She is my baby cousin…I know her since her childhood…darling of her daddy…since childhood she had a dream to become a Doctor.

She used to tell me that she wants to do something for poor…that some day she will open a hospital for needy who can’t afford medicine and treatment.

She will do it for them free…she was a very brilliant student…I saw her struggling in her medical studies…and when finally she held her degree her father arranged a Groom for her and today we were at her wedding.

Soon her mother came close and told me to join the other for dinner…so I have to leave her alone on the stage where she had to remain for the rest of the evening.

I looked at her from the dinner table after I took my plate to the corner and find her better…may be some of her siblings scold her for crying and that she is messing her make-up at this she stopped crying but remain somber.

hmm…what I have done so deplorable that affected her whole mood?

After Dinner…when guests were striving to sit besides the Bride and Groom to get in the movie…I went behind her…behind her sofa where I touched her shoulder from back.

She turned around and smiled.

"hmm....I am sorry…if I hurt you anyways…I didn’t mean it...and you know…. " I started...

"It’s ok…." she interrupted me and turned her back again to me…I stand behind her for a while…waited on her…she smiled to her husband and looked at her palm painted with beautiful design of henna…

For a brief moment there was a break…no one was there on the stage…Groom was standing aloof and Movie maker was arranging the group for the next photo session while she turned around…looked at me and smiled…

"I am so sorry dear…"...I started again.

"I told you its not you…" she again interrupted me.

"hmm....No...I know…there is something wrong…may be I shouldn't asked you anything like that…. " I somehow manage to explain a bit...

She again looked at me….and this time her tearful eyes stopped me….

"Actually it was not you or your question which hurts me…but…what hurts me is that YOU were the only person who asked me this question.

I waited on my husband-to-be to ask me the same question…his family…his friends…my family…my friends….

They do ask me so many questions…

1: What I can cook?
2: Whether I can cook or not?
3: What I like to eat…and so much more…

But no one ever asked me that whether I will start my house-job or not? "

It is true that we have broad our mind a lot….we now don’t mind working women…we never asked any girl why she wants to study after her Intermediate….and we never stare at the girls wearing uniforms going to their colleges in the morning.

But still….when a girl get married…she somehow has to ceased everything she has been doing in her single life.

There are lot of men who take month or more holidays to get marry…but a lot of women leaving their jobs because they are getting marry.

We still have long way to go…hmmm….

Good Bye !

They were the happiest days of my life...hmm....

Though I didn't know it....

Had I known...had I cherished this gift...would everything have turned out differently?

May be....YES.....

If I had recognized this instant of happiness....I would have held it fast and never let it slip away....hmmm.....

It took a few hours...perhaps...for that luminous state to enfold me....

...suffusing me with the deepest peace...

...but it seems to last days....even years.

And I will never find that peace again....hmm...

Goodbye...my dear friend.

Judging a Heart !

As I came back with a glass of water for my mother....

I saw him…what shall I say…COMPLEX man talking calmly to my mother…or may be my mother was talking to him fondly.

I sat by them close to my mother but never looked at him…he was somewhere 40 and quite handsome too.

And then a nurse…the same nurse whom he bullied few moments ago in front of us…came and took him for further tests.

“Why you were talking to this COMPLEX and IRRITATED person…mother?”

As soon as he disappeared I asked my mum…

“Young lady…you are always ready to label people….which is not good….you should have decency to first know people…”

“Well…what else I need to know about him mother…?”

“I overheard him talking with the other patients…with Gruff…Negative…Tough-Guy Attitute….complaining about his job…in an economy where there are those who would love to have a job they hate…just to have a job…he was blurting about his job…”

“Hating every minute waiting here…that’s what he said…what else should I need to know about his attitude maa…?”

“And….yes…he joked to that nurse about how he’d wanted to punch the last nurse that started his tests…”

hmmm...I was mildly annoyed with his dramatic…pessimistic attitude.

And in a brief moment…with rolling eyes…

I judged him.
Such a simple action.
A moment in the mind.

I evaluate and I label and I measure.
By whose standards?

I had him all figured out from a few interactions.

This complex man of God.

Later my mother told me about his stressful life...

And heard my mother talked to me about words like
1:Divorce.
2:Depression.
3:Evaluating for suicide.

My heart plummeted...hmm.....

How could I have been so wrong?

This wounded soul.

My mother said…” These were matters of the heart that a cardiologist couldn’t heal.”

“He is aching for love….wondering for his worth…”

“And you…young lady so quick to judge and slow to learn.

Sorrowed and softened by this new-found knowledge…I waited for him…he did returned and came forward hurriedly to my mother…requested for her blessings and gave me a ….smile…too.

hmm...this time I smiled back…look at his face tenderly…into his eyes.

Yet the lesson remains.

When I’m in a hurry…when I’m frustrated or annoyed…when I’m preoccupied with my own worries or pains…what wounded soul am I overlooking?

When I impulsively judge a person by their looks….their words….their actions…what wounded soul am I passing by?

Dear Allah above….help me to obey your command not to judge….

I would be happier...if only !

hmm….
I often asked this question to me…Am I Happy?

Yes....hmm...I am happy...

I am happy for what Allah has given me…HIS blessings are around me…like my caring and loving mother…my beloved husband…my work…my way of living…my blog…and my online friends…

They all make me happy…all the time…and only today I asked this question to me…

What would make me happier?

I would be happier if only…

I am a bit more petite…slim…not more but only three inches …tall….with fair skin…

If only I become wiser…

My mother becomes healthy…active in our lives as she used to be…

And I would be happier if only…

…the dark yesterdays of segregated schools transforms into bright tomorrows of quality integrated education…

….if men and women....will be judged on the basis of the content of their character....not on the basis of the color of their skin.

…if only every state governor will govern justly...who will love mercy...and who will walk humbly with his God and his people.

…I would be happier if only….

….when nobody will shout..hmm....“White Power!”
And nobody will shout....“Black Power!”

….but everybody will talk about God’s power and human power.

I would be happier if only…America will no longer have a high blood pressure of creeds and an anemia of deeds.

And I would be happier if only people start respecting every others’ feeling and religion.

....hmm...

One Onion

hmmm....

Once upon a time there lived a very nasty, horrible old woman.

When she died, she didn't leave behind her one single good deed.

So the devils got hold of her and tossed her into the flaming lake.

Meantime, her guardian angel stood there, trying hard to think on good deed of hers that he could mention to God in order to save her.

Then he remembered and said to God: "Once," he said, "she pulled up an onion in her garden and gave it to a beggar woman."

So God said to him: "Take that onion, hold it out to her over the lake, let her hold on to it, and try to pull herself out.

If she does, let her enter heaven; if the onion breaks, the old woman will just have to stay where she is."

So the angel hurried to the woman, held out the onion to her, and told her to take hold of it and pull.

Then he himself began pull her out very carefully and she was almost entirely out of the lake when the other sinners saw she was being pulled out and grabbed on to her so that they'd be pulled out of the flames too.

But when she saw them, that wicked, horrible woman started kicking them saying: "I am being pulled out, not you, for it's my onion, not yours!"

As soon as she she said that, the onion snapped and the woman fell back into the flaming lake, where she's still burning to this day.

And her guardian angel wept and walked away.

(Brothers Karamazov).

If you want to know human psychology read Fyodor Dostoevsky (1821-1881)...a Russian novelist, journalist, short-story writer whose psychological penetration into the human soul had a profound influence on the 20th century novel.

Shake well before use

But I didn’t follow the instructions very well…

That’s why when I started painting my kitchen wall the color was cream…
but by the middle of the wall the color became ORANGE and when I finished…the color was somewhat…hmm….RED.

Since I was so absorbed in next plan to take out all the things from my bedroom and paint it myself…I didn’t notice that I have started painting cream and end at red.

Though I asked my beloved husband to buy dark orange color for the kitchen and when I opened the paint box I scolded him for not getting what I asked and he showed me the COLOR mentioned on the box…which was clearly ORANGE (1013) and then we cursed the paint shop salesman for not given us the correct color.

But then the cursing went to the FACTORY owner/worker since it must be their fault not to mention the correct color on the box…yeah…?

So I have the color in mind was CREAM…and dreamed while painting that how would my guests will take my kitchen and my bedroom with same color…hmmm….

It took me three days to explain and to tame my beloved husband that in these days we can’t afford professional painter for re-painting our small kitchen and bedroom…as we only wanted our walls to be re-painted since its EID festival due and everyone likes to see their house glittering clean.

I thought that just re-painting the kitchen and bedroom walls would do the trick…but you never know…what lies in your future?....yeah….

And….we haven’t just stopped there….we had CREAM color for my bedroom….since we have four long walls…I took two boxes of CREAM color…when I started painting my bedroom the color was CREAM of course…and glittering type (when I afterwards took the expert advise the color called….GLOSS ENAMEL…which does not look bad…rather I liked it) but the other CREAM was of DISTEMBER type which is not glossy….hmm….

But I don’t mind that since it has a blessing in it too…because when I sleep and there is dark in my bedroom…I can clearly see my beloved husband in lounge on my bedroom’s shiny wall…hmmm….

Which means…that the other part of the room has no enamel paint…I am sure my beloved husband couldn’t see me watching him.

So…I had another good funny story (since that’s how my Sister-In-Law put it) for my relatives with the EID treats and a house with different color walls....hmmm....

Intellectual

"hmmm...here comes the lad...I was waiting for..."....I said to my mum...

"What took you so long? "

" Do you know I have been waiting since ages for you...?"

I asked the lad a bit rashly....hmmm....and turned to my mum again to make lad's position more uncomfortable and said....

"Whenever I think of going home early...this happens."

Actually...the lad was my brother in law's new...young driver...."working part time"...

....as explained by my brother in law..."he don't need the money he just love my children" ....hmmm...

And today evening because of rain he suppose to pick me up from my mother's house...

My mum....extremely happy to see the young man asked him for a cup of tea...which he accepted heartily....

"hmmm...Mother...why YOU always admire the person..I detest...?"

"Grow up...and make tea for us...."

While making tea I heard the cheerful chatter between my mum and the lad...which boils me with tea...or either milk...

Once I heard that my mum was saying something about today's music and how it gives her headache and him saying something about Atta ullah Khan Essa Khailvee music...may be he loves him....

When I entered the lounge they have started on families....

He had never seen his father....his mother is a senior nurse in a Govt hospital...

He graduated from Govt college...got scholarship....done LLB from UK...now he was going to the LSE to write a doctoral thesis on law and poverty in the third world.

hmmm....

The moral of the event:

It is quite impossible these days to assume anything about people's educational level from the way they talk or dress or from their taste in music.

Safest to treat everyone you meet as a distinguished intellectual....

hmmm.....

Choose Wisely

Have you imagine about your Free Will And your Maker...? hmmm....

Both are like a railway tracks....they run along but always separated....

They are incomplete without each other....I mean one can not be termed as track until it has two parallel ironed lines,,,,

But even though both are separated they take you to the same destiny.

So you can't say that you are not using your free will now....you are happy with God's decision....

Even then you are giving up your self to your MAKER you are still on both the tracks....to reach the destination....even if you are no more choosing or making decision which is also your own choice....thus you are using your free will....

So when I was young I tried so hard to get rid of this country.....

I tried for student visa....I tried for settlement....I tried for(of course not spouse what else left) but for visit visa....and shamefully I got selected....all the time....

But whenever it came to buy a ticket and run away...I always got stuck here for some one or other reason....and....when my Mother finally decided to live here and decided not to leave this country....I used my free will again and follow her.

I used my free will all those years....and I find myself making my own choices and getting them fulfilled....but my destiny was to love and to live in this country....hmmmm.....

So my MAKER played this all....HE let me choose but decided for me....and HE has HIS own ways....He took me where I am but never once give me the impression that it is basically HIM...who is marking my destination...not me....

When I was seeing off my sisters and their children today on the Air Port....

I was thinking that it could be me...and other people would have come to the airport to see me off with tearful(ok ok....with broad smile) eyes....

Instead I am the one who always be here on the Air Port to fetch them or to see them off.

Now I thank God for letting me use my own will and I choose wisely....because case could be like I somehow manage to go abroad but never cope there and had to come back with fame that I am the one who failed abroad so came back to Pakistan...

I am much more happier now since it was my own choice and I strongly believe that I choose wisely....hmmm....

What I have done ?

It is always been with me that whenever I try to be busy with something and want to give my full attention to that only important something....something else very urgent came along...hmm....

I know I know I know...what about MULTITASKING?

Yes...I know about it but doesn't this another something urgent always depress you...like you are not giving your full attention to your “very important thing”.

And this burdens your heart and mind that you are actually not faithfully completing whatever you were suppose to do...hmmm....

And there are days when I don't have a single tiny winy thing to divert my whole energy to...and then usually I have a fly catcher in my hand staring at the computer screen whole day long nothing special to write or to read.

During the Holy month of Ramadan....

I made the following THINGS TO DO List:

1: I will try to revive the long forgotten relationship with my LORD....that this month I will devout myself to religion only...

2: I will try to recite Quran Sharif (Holy Book) at least half hour everyday...

3: I will pray devotedly....

4: I will work honestly in my office....will never take a sick leave if I am not actually sick...

5: Always be nice and humble with my In-Laws and will try to be a good angelic wife to my beloved husband….

But as soon as I close my diary….

1: I got a call from my sisters that they are arriving from blah blah country to have EID with us….and so my mother put me in charge to clean house and get their room ready…

2: My office people put the loads of loads of piled work on me

3: My Google account and blog account got hacked and someone start claiming something like…I don’t have energy enough to talk about it now…

4: My nice…lovely…friend admitted in hospital and I have to look after her three children for whole week…

Every morning I had hectic day with lots of work in office…every afternoon I spent time with either my friend in hospital or in her house with her children…every evening after iftaar (when we break our fasting) I have to run along with my sisters for their shopping…

And when I finally came back home…I usually didn’t have energy to even look at my things to do list and dose off.

Whole month I looked for ways to talk to my MAKER…to actually TURN to HIM...and asked for HIS forgiveness…hmm....instead whole month WORLD kept me busy and looped me in it so intensely that I failed to do anything which I suppose to do in this month.

And now…when we are at the end of Ramadan…when may be today we will FAST for last time….until next year…I am feeling so ashamed of myself….

What my things to do list had….and….What I have done….? hmmm....

If I were a beloved Husband!

“Virtue is always modest, and modesty is itself a virtue. He who is discovered by his real excellence, and not by his egotistical advertisements of his own perfections, is a man worth knowing.”

-C. H. Spurgeon

Though I am not a model wife….hmmm…..I have longed to be a beloved husband just long enough to show other husbands how to act.

For….having viewed beloved husband from a wife’s standpoint…and having a wife’s idea of a model husband….

I think I could make a decided improvement on the conduct of most husbands.

First of all…if I were a husband….I would strive with all my might to be a manly….for if there is anything despicable…it is a man with weak feminine traits who could not utter a word infront of his elder sisters...hmm....

Endowed with a healthy man’s strength….I would use it in defending all creatures weaker than myself specially my wife.

I don’t think you would ever catch me talking nonsense to the baggers or waiving my hands to them to move away….instead I would politely ask them to move ahead or may be pay them some change because such conduct is a sign of a kind heart.

And a man that will take delight in playing mean….rough jokes on his wife’s girl friends is not the one that will step aside for his wife or give her his seat.

Therefore….I would practice politeness toward my wife’s girlfriends….so that it would come natural for me when my wife is around.

If I were a beloved husband….I would not try to hurry my wife or push her to finish her shopping as soon as possible as I cant stand the crowd….as I have seen men do.

I mean it is not civilized enough for a husband to disturb his wife on such important task.

And you would never find me among the crowd of loafers on the corner standing ready to remark upon or laugh at the passers by and I would never make my wife believe that they are my friends…if my wife thinks that all of my friends looked like loafers…I would readily give away their friendship.

And I would never allow my wife to do any heavy work that belongs to a big stout man like carrying the big shopping bags full of clothes or other stuff…even if they are all belongs to my wife.

I would never throw my wet towel on the floor or enter the house with muddy boots…and thereby save the wife the vexation that such conduct causes.

And I would never enter any house (specially neighbors) without the consent of my wife.

Above all I would keep clean….always wear the finest clothes when come to fetch wife from her office so that my wife need not shirk from allowing me to carry her books or bag.

Now if I were a beloved husband…I would try…after hearing these suggestions…to improve my general behavior.

At any rate…..it would surely make my wife respect me…hmmm.

Who is THINKING ?

I've had a lovely weekend with my mum...hmmm....

She arrived on Friday late afternoon with her usual bag of food after I'd told her not to bring anything....and left the same day with the same bag....only the food now stored in my refrigerator.

I worked so hard on my house to make it presentable to my mum.

The first thing she noticed was my computer and asked me why I have placed computer in my bedroom.

Result...hmmm....!

I mumbled and run away pretending to do something else.

As far as I'm aware....my mum doesn't read this blog. And I know if I tell her she'll never show an interest in my blog.

She doesn't have a computer and isn't interested in the Internet....but sometimes I just wish she'd have a quick look to see what's going on in my life.

My BLOG is my life...hmmm....I write what I experience…I write what I feel….I write what I want…and sometimes I write just to impress.

I often find it a shame if I'm honest because I've been dying to tell her about my blog with so many unusual post I published and all the many supportive friends I have made online...but I know she wouldn't understand.

I wish I could tell someone….about my blog…who would listens to me.

Who could read my words and digests my thoughts; understands my passion for social interaction and appreciates my success as a blogger.

I sometimes feel she's missing out on seeing the other side of my life....the side I enjoy...the blogging, the social networking as a whole.

I idolized my mum so much that I felt I only want to impress her.

I know I don’t have anything else to impress her with….perhaps my regular posts or friend’s comments impress her?

For now....I'll look forward to seeing my mum again....but I doubt I'll ever explain the concept behind Thinking.

The Curb Cruelty !

I was completely appalled at something I saw the other day during a trip to shopping area..hmmm...

As always...the place was heaving with shoppers and tourists and driving along the main street was a real challenge.

People walk out from nowhere....shouting at their kids to get a move on...."expecting" cars to just stop as they jay-walk in the middle of the road.

It's an area with a lot of shops and therefore attracts a lot of people....most of whom arrive by car.

One has to be careful when driving through as the danger of clipping someone as they forget about the ferocity of cars becomes all the more apparent.

I drive my mother’s old car which is not a big and powerful car....and even though I can handle it....it does cause a headache when people just walk in front of it when it's moving.

Just as I approached the pedestrian crossing....the lights turned to red.

I stopped...as you do...hmm...

There must have been around twenty people stood at that crossing...together with another thirty at least standing by the bus stops.

Then I noticed a young woman and what looked like her younger sister pushing a rather large middle-aged man in a wheelchair.

They were seriously struggling to get the chair off the curb and very nearly tipped the man out.

My first reaction was to look at the other people all crossing at the same time as I automatically assumed someone would go to assist.

Not one person bothered to help that woman...not one...hmmm....

Out of the dozens of people who stood within centimeters away from that family struggling to get across the road....not one measly person helped.

There were a lot of men in the vicinity who could easily have pushed that chair to the other side but no....that would have been too much trouble.

When the woman eventually got to the other side the struggle started again and by now the lights had turned back to green.

I looked in my rear view mirror and saw the man behind me shaking his head before he rudely hand signaled to me in an effort to encourage me to go.

The young woman....her sister (as I assumed she was) and the man....whom I assumed was their father....were still in the road....struggling to get the chair up the curb.

I couldn't stand it any longer.

Still no one helped so I opened my door and shouted...."do you need some help?"

The sister turned round and stared at me.

I'm sorry.....but I can't stoop to the level of people who don't even bother to offer....that young girl looked at me as though I was out of order for even asking.

I'd rather be stared at as though I've got two heads than be branded as ignorant.

But it does make you think, doesn't it?

The Writer !

There are steps to become a famous novelist nowadays:

A: You have to write your debut novel on some lost/long forgotten dictator or politician or military activist.

B: Where you don’t only write about his decisions no matter wrong or right about the country but you also portrayed him as the most hideous person in the history and all his decisions were wrong. Although I always believed that the Satan should be the most beautiful person of any story because that is the only reason he can persuade people. Do you get persuaded by a person who is hideous and never have any attitude?

C: You also involved his whole family in it…specially his wife…living or dead…no matter you were preset that time or not… but you are required to mention his wife and the relationship between the two should be hilarious. Either the wife should be stupid or she acted stupidly in gathering and always made the main character’s position miserable.

B: Find an Indian Publisher.

C: Find someone who could promote your novel here which could be the long never forgotten enemy who never loose ways to settle their score with your novel’s main character.

Congratulations….you…a famous novelist.

I read so many books…some gave me real pleasure some were just to finish because once started it always seems to be the responsibility of a good reader to finish the book.

I tried so hard to complete “The Case of Exploding Mangoes” so many times.

May be I am not the political type of person or may be I don’t like the story plot. But one thing is sure that the way writer has displayed the character of our former president aka the DICTATOR (as so many people called him) Zia Ul Haq, it didn’t satisfy my greed.

I know that the novel would have so many true stories and may be the novelist has done so much hard work and have gathered so many evidence…even then…soon he started writing about Zia’s wife it gave me filthy feeling.

I mean he could have his story without involving Zia’s personal life. Why the writer has to ponder into Zia’s bedroom?

I don’t know about politics or its war at all…but even when you are in revenge you need to overlook enemy’s children and women. You can’t be hard on them.

More over he not only portrayed the Zia’s wife simply stupid to be the First Woman of any country he in some scene showed the hilarious relationship between Zia and his wife.

I know…I may be over reacting but when you are writing history novel you should be very carful because these novel could become the real history. Who knows one day people will turn to this novel to find out the history.

The way he dishonor every person related to Zia was not very acceptable and not very accommodated in the personal library of the people like me.

Today when I opened one of the leading Newspapers I saw M Hanif interview and one or two topic about his new book.

And today as on the 14 August when the Newspapers could have a long list of writers who wrote for common masses and the writers…whose patriotic writing have given new passion to the public…they have given space to M Hanif.

Who gained his fame…by dishonoring people (who were not very good with their decisions) and portraying their hilarious images to the common masses.

And that’s the way of life nowadays.