Archive for January, 2008
Sunday – 17 Muharram 1429 – 07 Magha 1929 – 27 January 2008
Needless to say, I am suffering from a writers block. I dont know what to write, when to write it and how to write it. Needless to say, difficult.
One good thing has happened, my activity level at work has gone up 267.8734528%. My work has just become a lot more active and hectic. I miss lunch every other day and notice this at about five. At the same time, my work hours have increased by an hour or so daily to about a nine to nine. Good. And, I have ended up realizing that this is the pace of work that makes me feel alive and vibrant. I feel like one of the more dangerous workaholics. Because if I dont get this much work, I feel like life is a slow waste. If there are any shrinks reading this, please name this Jalal syndrome. Dont mean to sound unbelivably self centred, but, I think I am the only one with this thing.
Another good thing that has happened recently is that my engagement is finally over. And I dont have to marry her. It is very very good because neither one of us would have been happy with the other. She was a good person, but life with her is inconcievable. Good that that is over. And now for the fear that if she actually reads this blog. She is going to kick my ass.
Another good thing that has happened recently is that I have started to loose weight. Not because of exercise, not because of diet control, and not because of any major illness that would make me irritable and ill behaved even more than I actually am. It is because of a more controlled life. I have changed my eating habits. I eat more eggs and meat now. All protein, good to taste, good for the fatty collections of my posterior. I run up and down the stairs at work like a schoolboy skipping after an overdose of candy. And of course, since I am happy at work, I get to keep more active. And of course, one of my friends say that it is the increased sexual stimulation of my life, but I think he is just a stupid bitch.
Another thing that is going on is that I have finally decided to behave like a normal human being and apply for a University outside Pakistan or find a good Scholarship outside Pakistan for my Masters. Good Plan. Need to study for the TOEFL, GRE and then the GMAT.
Damn it! And I thought I had writers block.
Oh, and yes, can someone find me a good job in one of the following cities,
New York, London, Paris, and Istanbul.
Wednesday – 06 Muharram 1429 – 27 Pausa 1929 – 16 January 2008
So, life takes another turn. I start making friends, flit about, and I mean, flit about, the office. My colleagues are very happy at my conversion, my subordinates tell me they can feel me alive again, and my boss thinks that finally I have hit the right path. And of course, life with friends is going very well. Family is fat and overfed as usual. What more can people want? Rather, what more should people want. Of course that is a subjective thing, but for once I will cram my opinion down other people’s throats. Adore the idea of totalitarianism as long as it is not directed against me.
So this post is going to be about sexy office senior genius guy. I mean, he is sexy. He has a sexy voice. And of course he can solve the crossword puzzle while walking besides a crossword. Basically. I think I love him. Not really. Just enough to want unprofessional liaisons. Oh God. I am turning into a slut again.
So the whole healthy routine is back again. Eggs and Cereal for breakfast. Brown bread sandwitches and diet coke for lunch. Selected foods for dinner. Washed down with pints of sugarless tea. I dont take suger in my tea, which would explain the wonder. And, to top all of this off, I am not losing weight. None whatsoever. Does this mean that I should be very very afraid?
Sunday – 03 Muharram 1429 – 24 Pausa 1929 – 13 January 2008
1 – Goddamnit, do I have to carry around a pair of metal studden leather tongs to spank your asses purple when you go ahead and read things that are only meant for monthly catharsis? If no, then don’t read it, or, don’t reply. If yes, call me.
2 – Was quite unable to access internet at home since I have finally negotiated a portion in the house with a lot of privacy and was without internet till now.
3 – Need to get laid.
Monday – 27 Zilhaj 1428 – 18 Pausa 1929 – 07 January 2008
WARNING : DEPRESSIVE CRAP COMING UP! DO NOT READ! ONLY MEANT FOR PERSONAL CATHARSIS!
Interesting topic. It means, both a summation of what is going on, and the end. And this is the conclusion. I am a square peg and there is a round hole that is family and society. There is no possible way for me to mix the two. I thought that marrying a Lesbian and having an open marriage would be a good idea, but then my father, despite the opposition of everyone else, about ten people, forced me to agree to the fact that the married couple will have to live in a room in the middle of the house. So, fuck open marriage, I am enslaved. And I hate it. So basically there are two options to life, a – me, b – family and society.
Life, by their choice is not acceptable to me any more, and life, by my choice is not acceptable to them anymore. We are at an impasse. And the only thing that seems expendable, so completely useless and expendable is life.
I hate this.
And, after I say all this, shift blame and say things. It is all my fault. I never could stand up for myself and say that I want what I want and I will not take no for an answer. I was afraid of the incessant crying. Mom I want to get an apartment. Crying, bawling, I hate women and I hate all the fucking ways in which they subliminally emotionally blackmail us.
I hate this.
This may be my last post, and this may not, I just hate the concept of living any more, it seems such a fucking drag. I dont want to live any more in a forced life, it is better to die free than live enslaved. I do not want this any more. I am deleting all of my online profiles and stuff. Deleting myself, my gay ids and my str8 ids. All of them. Maybe people will forget.
Over the past four years since college ended and I had to move in with my family, I have been continuously talking to my family to let me have an apartment, and they never agree. And when I try to insist, they cry. I hate it. And now, I feel so seriously drained and empty. It is not nearly at all fucking acceptable any more.
Thursday – 23 Zilhaj 1428 – 14 Pausa 1929 – 03 January 2008
I have no fucking idea why, but for some reason this post on my weblog will have to be read in a proper British accent, since that is how I have been reading and writing it.
Last night, I was restless, I wanted to be exposed to new ideas and experiences. Either due to, or, in spite of my weight and physical odiousness I ended up being exposed to new ideas. I ended up watching two movies last night. I liked both of them.
First I saw Ratatouille and fell in love with Anton Ego. In love. And by love, here, I mean, butterflies, spring, meadows, gargoyles and the Seine. The whole package, love and psychosis.
After that I saw The Squid and the Whale and I found it absolutely amazing. Amazing. So, whosoever reads this, is directed, to first designate me as the image of masculine beauty and perfection in the deepest core of their existence, and then, to definitely do go and watch this movie. Preferably followed by a quick and beautiful snog.
As if this was not enough, I picked up a book of short stories and read an absolutely amazing piece of distilled beauty. Aldous Huxley. The Gioconda Smile. This time around, you are ordered to stop reading this moronic rambling of a twenty-some-thing psychotic homosexual idiot from Karachi and get the book. Buy it. Download it. Borrow it. Or steal it. But; get it now. Shoo.
Or, you can find it here.
Wednesday – 22 Zilhaj 1428 – 13 Pausa 1929 – 02 January 2008
I do not refer to my unbelievably fickle nature with depression and sadness. Over the past couple of months I have been fighting very hard against my moods of depression. I would like to say that at any given time I am either a man of happiness and sunshine or of sadness and lamentation. And in that period of time I see only that particular taste of time till the end of time. Fickle I would agree. But, it adds tastes to life not expected by so many. And of course of the recently polled 149 friends, family, colleagues and acquantances 134 declared me absolutely insane and unpredictable, 10 said I wanted to seem different and hence overacted, and of course 5 wanted to go to the bathroom and said “To hell with your questions overly fat and irritating bitch, where the hell is the can???”. I rest my case.
The madness I refer to is what I see around me. My country, my society, my people, my land. I met with a very dear friend from Hyderabad. Yes, yes, I know, only people above fifty are allowed to use the word dear friend, but, fuck off, grow up, go kick yourselves in the nuts, I will do what I want to do. He was telling me about the absolutely insane violence that took place in his city. So did it happen in Karachi.
My cousins, who were in from the US forced me to take them out on the New Years Eve. I didnt want to go. I did. I saw everything. What had become of my city. The closed shops. The dark streets. The empty roads. I cried. I cried in the car. They asked me what it was. I stopped crying. They can not share in my pain. I needed someone who loved those streets as much as I did to be able to understand.
And here, I would like to share with you all something that went through my mind during a split second of the drive. I am walking across the India – Pakistan border. When they try to stop me I run across it and declare “I demand political asylum because I am an Agnostic and the country behind me is a Taliban / Warlord hellhole”. The Indians do not say anything. They look at me with understanding eyes and let me walk on. I cross the guards. I look back. I look at the gate on the border with the Crescent and the Star. I know that my country descended into chaos. Another Afghanistan, another Baghdad. I saw it happen. And as I looked back across the border, I felt the pain of loss. Loss of each element of my existence. The sum of my being defined by a symbol that had restricted my world to what I ended up learning to love so strongly. Ghazal singers and Sufi Rock. Dawn newspaper and tv channel. As these images go through my mind I start walking back towards the Pakistani border. Something pulling me back. Towards destruction. Towards oblivion. But, the ability to think and process and decide rationally had left me. There was only one thing. Pleasure and pain, and the knowledge of eternal pleasure in the company of what I know and accept. And as I walk towards the border I am torn into two, one who wants to grasp at the last dying embers of what I love and cherish and hold above everything in the world, and the other who has the knowledge that seeing the destruction of a part of this whole would finish me. Yet again, as in my personal life, I am torn between two paths that both lead to oblivious destruction, I can not choose, and I can not decide, they are both right and they are both wrong. Am I only trying to run away from the questions by forcing so sudden a decision? As I walk towards the border, I fall down. I break down. I start to cry. A sound comes out of my throat like the primeval cry of an animal in pain. I dont know where it is coming from. Maybe it is coming from Pakistan. Maybe. And the images flash at me with increasing intensity. Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan singing Pakistan Pakistan. The Azan of the Muazzin from my old home. I fall to the ground. Old late 80s PTV song / jingle that was played before the Khabarnama. I start to pull my body across the gravel towards the border. Jinnah Mausoleum along the MA Jinnah road covered in a soup of Rickshaw vomit. I know that I am going to die. Sunset from the Clifton beach on a winter afternoon. I know that I must cross the border before the inevitable. The large pothole on the road to my house due to which I had to drive on the wrong lane each and every day. I scrabble like a mad man on the gravel, making a lot of effort but little progress. The Kabab Fry from Burns Road. The Indian guards who had tried to stop me have just now let me be; they understand. Nayyara Noor singing Faiz Ahmed Faiz – خیر ہو تیری لیلائوں کی. I think my hand has hit the border; and now, I can finally die in peace. I turn over, on the border. Saadat Hasan Manto. Pakistan Paindabad. And all is peace forever.
پاکستان پائندہ باد
Tuesday – 21 Zilhaj 1428 – 12 Pausa 1929 – 01 January 2008
اس دنیا کو، میں جو بھی ہوں، جیسا بھی ہوں، مجھے اب یقین ہو گیا ہے کہ، قبول نہیں ہوں۔ میں کہ جو اپنی ہی ایک دنیا میں بسنا چاہتا ہوں۔ میں کہ جو اس دنیا کے چند قوانین قبول تو کر لوں لیکن سب قبول نہیں کر سکتا۔ میں ہر وہ قانون قبول کر سکتا ہوں کہ جس سے انسان اپبی زندگی خوبصورت بنا سکتے ہیں۔ لیکن میں وہ قوانین قبول نہیں کروں گا جو کہ صرف اس لئے رائج ہیں کہ انسانوں نے ابھی تک مختلف چیزوں کو قبول کرنا نہاں سیکھا۔ میں کہ جس کو سب سے زیادہ محبت انسانیت سے ہے اس ہی کے لئے قابل قبول نہیں ہوں۔ تو پھر شاید دنیا کو میں قبول نہیں۔ اور پھر شاید یہ دنیا مجھے قبول نہیں۔
ایک عجیب پریشانی ہے کہ مجھے گھن کی طرح کھائے چلے جا رہی ہے۔ میری جسمانی صحت آہستہ آہستہ اب بہت خراب ہو گئی ہے۔ میری ذہنی صحت آہستہ آسہتہ بہت کمزور ہو گئی ہے۔ میں چڑچڑا ہو گیا ہوں۔ میں صرف تکلیفدہ باتیں کرتا ہوں اور ان ہی سے مجھے سکون ملتا ہے۔ اپبی خواہش کے خلاف اپنے گھر والوں کو خوش رکھنے کے لئے میں نے جو زندگی پچھلے چار سال گزاری وہ اب ضایع کئے گئے وقت کی طرح مجھے دق کر رہی ہے۔
اپبی مرضی کی زندگی گزاریں اور گھر والوں کو اتنا بڑا دکھ دیں کہ وہ میری بے رحم آنکھوں کے سامنے جیتے جی مر جائیں۔ یا اپنے گھرانے کی مرضی کی زندگی گزاریں اور زندگی کا ہر لمحہ قید اور بندش کے عزاب میں بسر کر دیں۔ دو راستے۔ دونوں ایک انتہائی تکلیف اور اذیت سے بھری ہوئی زندگی کے راستے۔ اور صرف دو راستے۔
اردو زبان کا سب سے گہرا اور اذیت ناک لفظ۔ کاش۔ کاش کہ یہ دنیا مجھے قبول کر لیتی اور مجھے بھی زندگی میں خوشی مل جاتی۔
زندگی جا، چھوڑ دے، پیچھا میرا۔