Archive for angst

سوال

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۔

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Reverberations

Tuesday – 21 Zilhaj 1428 – 12 Pausa 1929 – 01 January 2008

The period of depression that started here is still in full swing. Too many questions have been playing in my mind.

Do I lead the life of my own choice and in doing so break away from my family? I believe if I choose my own life my family will eventually break away from me. And I can not loose my family.

Do I lead the life chosen by my family and in doing so spend a life incomplete? Over the past couple of years I have tried this and have realized that I can not keep myself happy if I do not get to live a life of my own desires and choosing.

There is no answer. And I continue to repeat the same thing over and over again. Like the overly cliched broken record. The past couple of months of my blogging about the same thing. Two options, and I can not decide which one. Each leading to pain and suffering. How futile everything is.

I have noticed that recently, over the past couple of months I have stopped making contact with other people. I dont like to go out with friends, or family. I like to keep alone. Life is becoming so miserably painful.

Please, for the love all that is good and beautiful, never force people to lead the lives that you want them to lead because it seems that they have accepted that but they are being eaten alive from inside.

I have stopped talking to friends about this because they feel sorry about it and I dont want them to feel bad or worry about things. I dont like sadness, I want them to be happy. I have stopped talking about this to people who I think are my friends because baring my soul to people who really dont care about what I am going through is pathetic. I can not talk to anyone in my family because they think that my wanting a life at odds with how people live here is extremely selfish and hurtful to them, I do not want to be dubbed any of those things. I have no one to talk to. I think I will eventually need to go to a shrink, if only so I can just go there and cry my heart out with someone who will pay attention but not get hurt.

I hate this. Life has become an increasingly painful experience. What I might love to call a تلخ جام in Urdu. A goblet of unbearably bitter wine. One must drink it, but it is unpleasant to the core.

And in the middle of this, I just want to go away, far far away. Just take my car and go to some far away land where I can live my life again. Alas, if only. And leading the life I am. I know I will be sad each and every moment of existence. And I will sad in retrospect at what I have been living. I hate this. Absolutely hate this.

موت جب زندگی سے بہتر تھی

ہم نے وہ وقت بھی گزارا ہے

And I just hate talking to my family about any of my problems now. I hate it. They always say the same thing. That I am being selfish and that I am being self centered and that they love me and want the best for me and I should do what they want. But I am not selfish and I dont hate them, I just want to be happy.

The ineffectual pursuit of my happiness. What a farce that is life.

Insanity

Sunday – 07 Ziqaad 1428 – 27 Kartika 1929 – 18 November 2007 

All the trials and errors have been completed. And I stand ever so more on the brink of insanity. The extreme level of tension in my mind between the choice of two equally painful paths into my future. Fear of hurting anyone I love. Fear of hurting anyone else. A desire to lead a life of my own choosing. Extreme anger and disgust at not having led a life of my choosing. Feeling stupid at having told me father about being gay. Feeling stupid at having told my mother about being gay. My whole world has been crashing down on me for the past two months. And all I did was to avoid it. As I avoided it with over work for the past four years.

I have started getting up early, getting ready for work in ten minutes, getting to work at eight thirty in the morning and involving myself upto my head with work. So much so that I can not at times even shake hands with people. Not giving myself even two minutes to think about how fucked up my life is. And then coming back home at about twelve, from work. No time to think about anything in my life. For each and every one of the past four weekends I have for all practical purposes hovered on the brink of oblivion. I have actually realized that I may have ventured too far away from sanity on some occasions. As I probably am now. There is only one thing that provides support right now. Typing typing typing typing and typing.

I have been thinking about this so much. And everything I think and I know, I loose. It is like smashing against a cliff. I talked to my sisters and my parents. They still dont understand. My mother still thinks that she is doing a good thing for me. They think that I need to be brought to the true path.

This is not the fucking middle ages. I can not fucking cheat on my wife. All gay men used to get married only because it was socially acceptable for people to sleep around. And they did do that. Now you cant. I can not. Fuck. Fuck. I think my family still has a notion that I need to be brought to the true path. My mother, poor woman with the idiot son who actually did something so stupid to tell her that he is gay, actually started this prayer and then she sprinkles my pillow with water to drive away demons or whatever it is. That is how we handle problems in my family. The previous time I was going through a bad phase, at about the time I started writing this blog, they said that someone has done magic on me and that is why I am being like that. No. Wrong answer. Try to solve the problem medically. Similarly this time. Water sprinkling. What a proper way to solve problems.

I think ill go to sleep. There is no amount of ranting that can satisfy even one iota of my being right now.

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!

Edge

Monday – 12 Jamadi us Sani 1424 – 20 Sravana 1925 – 11 August 2003

my life is one big miserable hell. i know i know here he goes again but it is. i hate it. for the past three years i have been severely depressed and severely elated by turns. a friend once told another friend about me that i am mentally unstable. well he was right. i am. right now i am severely depressed. actually suicidally depressed. that is coz i am home. a different concept for most people. not for me. i hate being home.

well i dont know why i am writing this post but i am writing it. i hate this life. if an angel were to come and give me a choice to die i will take it immadiately. but with one condition noone should get hurt. noone else should get hurt because i am a coward. my cowardice should not be their fault. why should someone suffer for someone elses sefish desire to end unbearable pain day in and day out.

another reason why i havent managed to commit suicide yet is because i am an idiot. i care too much about people. i nearly went through with it in college. but when i was about to drink something i realized i had just had a horrible fight with a friend. if i do this he can blame himself. i would destroy his life. which i dont want. i just want mine to end without anyone elses being destroyed. same is the case right now. i am NOT getting along with my mom. she knows it. if i FUCKING kill myself she will think it has something to do with her. GODDMANIT !!! cant i just fucking kill myself without thinking over it a million times.

oh i seem to stopped my fucking suicidal ranting. so i shall continue with it. i cannot drink this fucking bottle of medicine in front of me because i am a fucking human who has relations. and they will get too fucking hurt if i drink it. so the only thing i can do is look at it longingly. make believe i drink it. and die and am released of this pain. but i cant do it. GODDAMNIT !!! i hate this.

i have lost all hope and belief in life. i dont want to life. i dont want to continue this neverending cycle of pain and sorrow for myself. i dont want to live. i would die happily were it not for the lives of people linked with me. why why why. if allah made me like this why couldnt he have made it so i dont have anyone to think about before i drink that bottle.

i am so sorry i am doing this to all of you who have to read this. i am so sorry. but i dont care any more. it is because i care that i am alive and not dead. it is because i care that i didnt drink that bottle and am still fucking here. i am so sorry to put this all on you. i made this blog as an emotional release. but now i have gotten to know some of you so well that i cannot hurt you. but you dont know. thank god. at least i can talk about what i think. at least we dont know each other that well.

DAMNIT … now i will have to make a private blog where i can say all this. and not feel as if it will effect anyone. please please. if you can understand what i wrote. please do not get affected by what i said. just read it and try to learn from but. but dont feel it. i would not want to be someone who causes anyone pain or sorrow. i just want all this to end. with noone feeling any pain or sorrow for me. my family happy.

sometimes i think i will go and have sex with another man and come home drunk and tell my family. then commit suicide. maybe they will think it is for the best. but i cant. because then my family will keep thinking that they had a son why didnt he turn out like any other normal person. i dont want to let them down. but fuck man i have let every one down. i have let everyone down. even myself. damn it. damn it all.

Counting

Thursday – 30 Jamadi ul Awwal 1424 – 09 Sravana 1925 – 31 July 2003 

so here is todays normal post. or abnormal post. or whatever the hell you may want to call it post.

i was standing besides a road and was splashed by a lot of rain water. i was wearing white clothes. i am so proud my myself. i didnt ejaculate horribel expletives at the driver immediately. maybe that is why he felt so very sorry for me and reversed the car and said sorry. i think noone has said sorry in a such a situation is about 5 years in karachi. another thing for me to be proud of.

today i went to downtown for some work. i saw the tallest building in pakistan. it is the mcb plaza. and it is under construction right now. the guy i went with had to go get something. since i was such a mess i had to stay in the car. the car has stopped in front of the city court. it is SUCH a beautiful building. and yes you know what i did. i counted cars on the road. here is the iternary.

1600-1605 – 369 cars

1606-1611 – 29 buses – that comes to about 1 bus every 10.3 second

1612-1617 – 175 motorcycles

1618-1623 – 374 cars

1624-1629 – 58 saloon cars

TRAFFIC JAM LIKE HELL !!! then started counting when traffic started to move

1640-1645 – 481 cars

well then we came home. after getting stuck in the after work rush hour for one hour.

the most interesting thing i saw on that road were camel carts. yes camel carts. a camel pulling a cart behind it. loaded with stuff. it was very interesting. i saw 3 of them. maybe it was the same one. didnt see them that up close.

also today i paid homeage to the tallest building in karachi. the mcb plaza. it is a TALL alright. but it is nto good looknig. i hate the person who decided how to decorate the exterior. he should be made an example of hatred to art lovers all over the world

i will leave now. and let you collect your thoughts. after the battering they have undergone in my post.

Breakdown

Wednesday – 29 Jamadi ul Awwal 1424 – 08 Sravana 1925 – 30 July 2003 

i am scum. i am fucking scum. i am the worst human ever on the face of this fucking planet. i am a curse sent down by allah upon my parents for their past sins. i am a curse sent down by allah upon my sisters for their future sins. i just wish there was some fucking way of dying without pulling my whole family through the trauma. if only there were a way for me to end this miserable existence and noone to get hurt now or ever.