Sunday, May 11, 2014

Observation Machine


As a child I used to rolled a lolly pop in my mouth like a sourball until I had its taste and feel.

As a grown up sometimes...when I hear something I fail to grasp at first listening it I usually repeat it to my mind again and again like a little child rolling lolly pop in my mouth until I can feel its taste on my tongue...and that is how I rolled his name around my mind until I became fluent with it...hmm....

Mustansar Hussain Tarar...now ...you too...try it..hmm...

It all started with, ‘Bahao’ his masterpiece...I read it and that led me to roll his name’s sound into my mouth again and again.

hmm...I have given up on Writers...not the famous ones are really good writers and not the good writers are good human beings...it simply means that good creativity does not promise you good character.

But when I met Mustansar Hussain Tarar, his simplicity impressed me.

He said that it is blessing from ALLAH (SWT) to make him such a famous and accomplished writer as he don’t have any other skills to feed him or to have such beautiful family. He also claimed that being a wanderer it must be his luck backing him up on attaining such success as a writer.

I like/admire his wit, its amazing to sit with someone so famous yet feeling comfortable not being once disturbed by the awkward silence you feel when you don’t have words to fill in the spaces between speeches...he never need those little speeches to encourage to speak up.

He always do his homework about where he is going...to whom he will meet...what kind of people would be there to greet him and so soon after you settle yourself opposite him he will start the conversation...and its always the same...

I have met him four to five times now....never seen him disorganized...miscalculated or out of words.

Once he told me that the Writers are so different from people who don’t write or don’t want to write or could not write...the Writers have kind of Observation Machine fitted into their mind...rescuing...noting...documenting every bit of what eyes are seeing...hmm...

....he went on as he remember every details of his father burial and said that at that point ‘..., ‘I asked myself that I should not be making notes isn’t so sad that my father died why not the grief blinded me or make me so dumb to record any of this? ...but I couldn’t help it...I was there and I was noting down every little details.’

I usually don’t like to meet famous people...as I said earlier...if I like a writer I go ahead reading all his work...in case of an actor watch his soaps or every on air dramas...but sometimes I make exceptions....and I am glad that I made that exception for Mustansar Hussain Tarar.

Thursday, May 8, 2014

Reader


I should only make myself ridiculous in my own eyes if I clung to life and hugged it when it has no more to offer. 

Do you know what actually every living being is a reader only.

We are actually reading our story which is not written by us but we are forced to read it aloud so that we can be heard by others...sometimes it does us good since without reading perhaps we would never have seen ourselves clearly just by reading myself aloud I am actually making myself understand me...hmm...

The first line is the last sentence said by Socrates and soon after that he took the poisoned hemlock and ended his life.

His friend Crito was just asking Socrates to take more time...what is the rush for drinking poisonous water...let us celebrate...let us have a feast...perhaps you should ask for little luxury as your last wish...but Socrates sustained his friends request by simply saying that why wait when there is nothing more left....

I think Socrates knew that he have fully read his book and now there are no more stories left to continue the session but ofcourse how would I know...I was not present there...may be Crito told him to hurry up drink the water so that the world soon after his death recognize his real talent and make a statue of him...so that they can burden their coming generations to read and understand Socrates to understand life and they can discover a new branch of Science and call it Philosophy....I understand to make a new branch they needed sacrifices...may be Socrates was just freaking out by his unseen future and was out of his mind....and his disciples make all this up...as I said...I was not there.

But....I have seen my mother in her last stage...few more people...they become calm and kind of relaxed that they have finally come to the end of their book...perhaps by the end of the story the reading aloud fatigued so much the reader that s/he only want this to be end anyway...good way or bad way...just anyway.

Now you know that few books are lengthy and few hardly make any weight...so by just grabbing it you have this automatic feeling about how much this book reading will take your time...and so is we...by just going through different events of life...sensed our time in this world.

I just wonder that whatever my book held....does its starting and ending make any sense to anyone who is listening to me reading it aloud? Because I hardly make any sense to me so far...hmm....

What kind of dumb and boring book my Lord placed me with? ...even my highly appreciated reading skills failed me to make it interesting...if I had a choice to make...I would have picked a book with adventure....drama...suspense and a little bit action in it...hmm....but I think we are not allowed to make choices...whatever...hmm...