Archive for October, 2007

Melancholia

Tuesday – 17 Shawwal 1428 – 08 Kartika 1929 – 30 October 2007

To start off with, basically, wow. Has been long.

At first I thought that I was having my periods and that had thrown me completely out of my emotional balance. But then I remembered that men dont have periods. They basically don’t have any excuses for suddenly becoming emotionally insane. Except the usual female complaint of being “just pigs”. So I will use that. I am just a pig. And mind you, Pigs can have half hour long orgasms. As it can be seen I use a situation where I find my life completely miserable and a mere shadow of an exitence on the surface of a rather wavy pond and turn it into a source of immense envy in the hearts of others. Yes, half hour long. Not me, Pigs.

So, as some of you might see from my previous emails, I have been extremely depressed because of my state of being gay in Pakistan. No acceptance within my family or society. No chance of leading a gay life. No chance of being happy by not leading a gay life. Do not believe in cheating on my wife or fiance. Do not believe in sleeping with men if my family does not know or approve. More contradictions in one sentence than I am used to hear from some of the more imbecilic of my colleagues when I have to stop them in each sentence and tell them that they are just not making any fucking sense.

So, I have seen the whole of “3rd Rock from the Sun” in the past two weeks.  I just love the show, and by that I mean, I love it to a level considered taboo in most societies. And, I am reading Hardy – A pair of blue eyes. I absolutely adore Hardy. His works capture my life in ways that are haunting and relieving at the same time. After this I will read Tess. I loved Jude and the Mayor of Casterbridge.

And, in the ending I think I would like to say that most probably my depression is coming to an end. Or maybe not. Too early to tell. But I just hope that if my depression does continue I do not want to spend sixteen straight hours in front of the television just to not let my mind wander off to any other ideas.

Oh, and yes, if there are any eligible Lesbian women out there looking for gay guys to marry. Send me a fucking email so we can finalize the deal woman!

Depression

Monday – 09 Shawwal 1428 – 30 Asvina 1929 – 22 October 2007

It seems that my current phase of depression has been going on for quite some time. At least X weeks. The same problem, the same issue. It is driving me insane. I can not leave myself alone for more than five minutes. I have to jump from one mind absorbing activity to another. I can not sit idle without either reading or surfing the net or watching tv or driving. I spend more than five minutes and I am thrown into depression. That was until yesterday. Today, life has taken a more miserable turn. I have started to despise all those things as well. I felt myself enraged by the happiness being experienced by others. I started to write this blog post because I was terrified by my contemplation immediately preceding this post of a bottle of pills that I could gulp down.  I am beginning to scare myself. As I sit here, I am thinking about just standing up, walking out of the front door, and just walking out, and then keep walking until I come to the end of the world.

I can not bear any more the thought that I wasted my whole youth to abstain from sexual relations with other men because I wanted to follow someone else’s ideals and not hurt them. The feeling of a loss of time, of my own youth, I can not describe a loss greater than this that I have felt in my whole life. Noone gives up things for other people. I feel like such an absolute idiot. Since it was Sunday and I was going insane I spent the whole day in front of the television. I felt hatred. Hatred for everyone with either a happy relationship or a happy sexual life.

I dont know what is happening to me, but it sure is not good. I do not want to live a life based on the rules of what is felt right, or wrong by someone else. I want my life, and if I cant get that, I feel no pleasure in a life of slavery.

Trajedy

Friday – 06 Shawwal 1428 – 27 Asvina 1929 – 19 October 2007

Two powerful bomb blasts have hit the procession of Benazir Bhutto. More than 120 have died as I sit here and write this. With trembling hands and wet eyes. Such loss of life, again and again and again. And it gnaws at your very soul and sanity. Like waves weathering away the cliffs. Cliffs of resolve and honour and dignity and humanity. Senseless violence tearing apart the fabric of our very lives. One after another a trickle of news and violence in our great cities. Murder, destruction and mayhem.

خون کے دھبے دھلیں گے کتنی برساتوں کے بعد

Poetry

Sunday – 01 Shawwal 1428 – 22 Asvina 1929 – 14 October 2007

 جوش ملیح آبادی

سنو اے ساکنان بزم ہستی، ندا کیا آ رہی ہے آسماں سے
آزادی کا ہر اک لمحہ ہے بہتر، غلامی کی حیات جاوداں سے

Josh Maleehabadi 

Listen, o denizens of life, to the sound emanating from the heavens,
Every moment of freedom is better than eternal life of slavery

محمد ابراہیم ذوق

زندگی ہے یا کوئی توفان ہے
ہم تو اس جینے کی ہاتھوں مر چلے

Muhammad Ibrahim Zauq 

Is it life? Or is it a tempest?
This life is my undoing

Lego

Sunday – 24 Ramazan 1428 – 15 Asvina 1929 – 07 October 2007

Ok, ok, ok. I know I am 27 and moving swiftly towards oblivion and should start cutting down on starch in my diet. But, I am still a young man, and I have needs.

My aunt got me a 2,000 piece special Lego set today. I love it. I have named it Ahmed. Though the motor thing has its own name. Saeed. So, at the risk of making this sound perverted, I was playing with Ahmed and Saeed for a period of six hours without a break today.

And, fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck, I swallowed one of the smaller pieces. Why the fuck do they put ages on the boxes when people older than that age can do things like this. I hate lego.

So, when my twelve year old cousin and myself were pulling on the lego box from two different corners he actually did manage to wrestle it from me.

This has got to be a very embarrasing moment for me. I seem to be saying that at an alarmingly faster pace nowadays. I think ill just go and have some more Pulao. It is such a consolation.

Depression

Sunday – 24 Ramazan 1428 – 15 Asvina 1929 – 07 October 2007

Humans are such intersting creatures. So simple at first sight, short-thin-petite-brownhair-beautifuleyes-crazysideburns, tall-fat-fair-jolly-sexychin, muscular-macho-brighteyes-beautifulshoes-interestingfashionsense. But so complicated when you jump into them. Courageous, cautious, self-conscious, complacent, arrogant, confident, depressive. And so and so forth. So many adjectives to define something that is basically not definable, playing with words to conceive an iota of knowledge about something so profound and so complex.

The past two weeks have not been a good time for me. But, it is the company of others that has kept me strong. For whatever reason. There have been so many issues that I have had to deal with lately. My engagement and the prospects of a life not at all my own but dictated by others. Maybe even not dictated, but dictated by my knowledge of the expectations of others. Expectations that I know are held so dear that I would not want to hurt them. But sacrificing my own expectations for others. No idea how that will turn out, there are too many apprehensions.

One of the reasons why I started this weblog was to reach out, a kind of catharsis that I get when I put pen to paper to write what I feel and then to read it and feel better about things. I was a regular blogger during my fourth year of college. But it was scary for the strength of emotions used. So I deleted that. Even after college I have been blogging regularly. Most of my older posts have been unbelievably strong and do scare me. But I have resolved not to delete my past, I can not escape it. And I do not want to forget it any more. I want to know who I was and who I will be.

I have a lot of friends who I can share my life with. In the physical world. And over time I have gained a lot of friends in this world of the internet as well. Very different kind of a relationship, but it does exist.

I have been having a severe feeling of loss over the past couple of days. Of not having done the things in life that I should have. Basically relates to relationships and sexual relationships with men. Something I knew would hurt my family if they find out. So, I have led a life of a reasonable amount of abstinence. But now it is haunting me. I dont want to make the same mistake. Of doing something for someone and feeling sorry about it. So I read my weblog for the past few years. I admit that there is more crap in there than there are stars or grains of sand. Gave me a bit of a consolation that not having the life that I wanted did not necessarily destroy my life back then.

One year of blissful submission to my family and my society is a reasonable period to cover up for the one month a year period of doubt, angst and depression that I have. Or is it? One thing about life is that you can never really answer these things. If only there were answers and if only I could know them. But that is not the case.

The silver lining on a rather large cloud is that depression wearies one off and ends itself as soon as the novelty of the emotion wears off. Hopefully.

Flight

Thursday – 21 Ramazan 1428 – 12 Asvina 1929 – 04 October 2007

I am about to fly away. To a distant land of milk and honey. Where waterfalls cover the rough faces of mountains. Where all is peace and calm and quiet. Paths are chosen on one’s own will. Where finally peace I shall find.

Nasir Kazmi

 منگل – 19 رمضان 1428 – 10 اسوج 1929 – 02 اکتوبر 2007

شاعری کی دنیا میں ناصر کاظمی ایک ایسا نام ہے کہ جس سے شدت احساس منسلک یہں۔  ایک بہت واضع احساس محرومی۔ زندگی کی تلخیوں کا اس طرح ذکر کہ ان سے مانوسی کا شائبہ۔ افسوس، بہت افسوس۔ اور ایک ملال جو کہ ہر طرف چھایا ہوتا ہے۔ جیسے کہ سردی کی صبح اکیلے گزاری جائے اور بالکل سکوت میں دل ڈوب رہا ہو۔

جب ذرا تیز ہوا ہوتی ہے
کیسی سنسان فضا ہوتی ہے
ہم نے دیکھے ہیں وہ سناٹے بھی
جب ہر اک سانس صدا ہوتی ہے
دل کا یہ ہال ہوا تیرے بعد
جیسے ویران سرا ہوتی ہے
رونا آتا ہے ہمیں بھی لیکن
اس میں توہین وفا ہوتی ہے
منہ اندھیرے کبھی اٹھ کر دیکھو
کیا تر و تازہ ہوا ہوتی ہے
اجنبی دھیان کی ہر موج کے ساتھ
کس قدر تیز ہوا ہوتی ہے
غم کی بے نور گزرکاہوں میں
اک کرن ذوق فزا ہوتی ہے
غمگسار سفر راہ وفا
مژہ آبلہ پا ہوتی ہے
گلشن فکر کی منہ بند کلی
شب ماہتاب میں وا ہوتی ہے
جب نکلتی ہے نگار شب گل
منہ پہ شبنم کی روا ہوتی ہے
حادثہ ہے کہ خزاں سے پہلے
بوئے گل گل سے جدا ہوتی ہے
اک نیا دور جنم لیتا ہے
ایک تہزیب فنا ہوتی ہے
جب کوئی غم نہیں ہوتا ناصر
بے کلی دل کے سوا ہوتی ہے

Meeting

Tuesday – 19 Ramazan 1428 – 10 Asvina 1929 – 02 October 2007

There was an awfully long meeting at work today. After spending two hours in the meeting room we decided to have a smoke and meet in the cafe for a bit. Smoking is strictly not allowed in Ramazan so we had to close the cafe and have a smoke. Everyone else having dispersed it was just me and my colleague from another department. And the idiot was wearing such a tight pair of pants. Not that I am complaining. I think he should do that every day. But even then. He was.

Jalal, will you please stop fucking staring at people’s crotches you are talking to specially after you both realize what you are doing.  I mean dude, please, behave yourself. How would you like if you were treated like a hunk of meat meant for lusty pursuits. Actually, that wont be so bad, but work is work, a cup of tea is a cup of tea, and tight pants are tight pants. So, from next time I will look him in the eyes like proper work conversation, so he doesnt tell me “Dude, I know you are gay, but, I am up here”.

So, the meeting was fun in the end. I ended up getting a lot of work done. That guy sortof mended fences with me. I got an additional responsibility to add to my already over worked status. But, otherwise all is good.

And the idiot who broke the signal, nearly bashed into my car, and scared the beejeezahz out of me should burn in hell while dogs feast on his rotting entrails.

And, “I will not call female colleagues fat cows from now on, I will not call female colleagues fat cows from now on, I will not call female colleagues fat cows from now on, I will not call female colleagues fat cows from now on, I will not call female colleagues fat cows from now on.”

Renascence

Monday – 18 Ramazan 1428 – 09 Asvina 1929 – 01 October 2007

Ok, so, I am back. Same fucking stupid old me. Hiding behind a barrage of moronic jokes, embarrasing aphorisms, terse diatribes and subtle satires. And of course add a smidgen of sarcasm, vice, stupidity, psychosis and a whole lotta Jalal and we are back to normal. No more psychological breakdowns over why I am a pansy and why won’t my family accept me as a flower or fruit or whatever it is that you people are calling it nowadays. I will not sulk. I absolutely refuse to sulk and live in a vegetative state gaining weight and feeling sorry for not having ever the liberty to live like I want. I will live life to its fullest. Starting from now. After I watch Transformers that it.

Even though I am engaged and will be getting married in the summers next year and will start to have kids “as soon as naturally possible” and have as many kids as our limbs can hold, I feel a very strong overpowering urge to keep a pet. Something strong and manly yet docile. So it is like da mayn. But, I am it’s lord. Oh dear, I have gone too far havent I. Yes, yes, I know I need to go hunting or have a fist fight on a road or something because my innate latent violence hormones are raging in my blood right now. And, as per past definitions of yours truly I am completely against violence. I think I need to be spanked properly tonight.

Oh, and yes, this is just so seriously not about Transformers. I mean, the stupid high school guy, the brain less army guy and of course Optimus Prime. None of them was cute enough to grab my attention to the screen. Of course the story line of a movie like that can not be better for the brain than lets say eating shredded plastic strips can be for your stomach. And, oh, my, fucking, God, those stupid fucking brain dead imbecile comments like “There is more to them that meets the eye”, “why are you here” and “what do you want” with the fucking camera giving close ups of the actors who are bathed in sunlight as if they have asked something important. You stupid fucks. I used to think about more profound things when I used to contemplate my vomit at age 3. Who the fuck wrote the script for you. Can you please ask him to read my blog: in a rating of proper English, depth of thought, profoundity and ability to communicate properly it ranks 12,883,789,783,838,239,283 amongst all English documents produced to date including scribbles from first graders and sentences spelled out by animals running on snow while pissing. And, it’s writer thinks that your writer sucks like a baby calf about to die of thirst.

The action scenes were very good, but they were too fast. I am sure I would get a better rush if I can see something move rather than see hunks of metal flap about faster than I can move. I mean, have you ever seen women flick their eyes at men. Eyes can move fast! But if I can’t keep up with Optimus Fucking Prime being smashed across my screen, there is something seriously wrong with how the movie is thought out. And for God’s sake can you put in some sort of a hot guy and a hot girl and make them show a little bit of skin so people dont just get up and walk out of your movie. Morons. But, all in all, I think I found the guy’s car robot quite attractive. Does this make me weird?

Wow! I feel so much better now.