Archive for family

Mille

Day 10,384 – Friday – 30 Phalgun 1930 – 22 Rabi ul Awwal 1430 – 21 March 2009

Ok. Ok. Ok.

So, this is the 1,000 th post. I wanted it to be special. Then I got extremely bogged down in work. I realize I am becoming boring now. With age and all. And then I didnt get time to write something nice. Lots of things happened. I wanted to write more. But didnt get even the lesser amount of time. It got bad. Things piled on. Time got shorter. I didnt get time to write. The responsibility got huge. And I couldnt do it. It got more difficult with each passing day.

A very vicious cycle indeed.

So here I break it.

Depression is over. For about three months. Thank God.

Work is amazing and extremely demanding of time and life.

Friends are going insane one after the other.

I am becoming boring and irritable.

Things are great.

I went to a Jyotishi and a Tarot Card reader. They both told me it is a very bad time for me. Should get better soon.

Otherwise things are ok with life.

Havent even had time to date anyone or indulge in internet excapades. That busy. Trust me!

So, here goes, my 1,000th post. So hastily ill written it is not even funny.

Ugh. This is disgusting.

Pressure

Day 10,214 – Monday – 10 Bhadra 1930 – 29 Shaban 1429 – 01 September 2008

Well, its not like I like to whine. Or that SS (ADs wife SSs ex boss) calls me whiny. Or NW my colleague calls me whiny. Or that NA and AH call me whiny. I dont like to whine. I may whine, but then there are always reasons. And, please dear God, I whine a lot less than the rest of my friends whine. You should hear some of them whine. Basically, shut the fuck up, I dont care what you think I am not whiny.

I shall present an example to prove to the rest of you that I am not whiny and when you do think that I am whining you are wrong and you dont know the full story. And I am right.

I had to go pick up my sister from a wedding in the middle of the night. I go there an lo and behold she and my cousin (over from the US) are not picking up their cell phones. Why the fuck does one buy a cell phone? So that when your brother calls you at 0030 hours you can pick it up and tell him that you will be out of the place and seated comfortably between his clutter in his car within the next 23 seconds. It obviously did not happen. And ten missed calls later I just went into the wedding hall. I was told that since everyone is dancing and enjoying that I should wait for them.

I did. For an hour.

I realize that with my consistent development on the ladder of age my general level of hatred towards merry making, happiness, smiling people, dancing and other activities that humans like to entertain themselves has been increasing. Hence, my utter, undiluted and complete hatred of the mehndi.

My sister (and my cousin) think that I am a prudish idiot who has no idea how to enjoy life any more and needs to learn to enjoy whatever life has to offer; a strangers mehndi and wild dancing by a group of people I dont know and can easily hate from quite a distance included.

I think ill just take over her part of what my parents leave us and tell her to go enjoy dancing at her friends mehndies. I guess I am a bit too irritable for someone who seem to have been flitting around the office like a drunk hyena giggling at the top his lungs all day long.

Chaos

Day 10,212 – Saturday – 08 Bhadra 1930 – 26 Shaban 1429 – 30 August 2008

Yes, chaos. That is exactly what I experienced last night when I went out for food with my family. Coming from a middle class background and having lived on a civil servant’s salary we have all learnt to live sparingly. Food was something one ate at home. Except on very few occasions when one ate at a restaurant, with fresh napkins, and the forceful yet unrelenting resort to etiquette. I always used to think of restaurants as what heaven would be like. I have learnt that I was obviously wrong. Very wrong. Anyone who has been to Bar b que tonite will agree that if Heaven is anything similar to it then God is obviously having fun at our expense. I only hope that he is not. As usual, I have started to ramble, I shall return to the topic.

Due to these particular circumstances my family has no idea of how to behave in a restaurant. For starters there is not idea of how to give an order to the waiter. What you do is that once the waiter has arrived then anyone on the table who has not decided yet will ask the waiter to return in “five minutes”. If you are at any kind of a reasonable restaurant the waiter will come after five minutes; otherwise after much gesturing, shouting, poking, eye rolling and making obscene gestures you would be able to avail the services of a not-so-high-tip-getting-waiter. Once the waiter is at the table someone, anyone, anywhere, on the table will start to give his / her order. You will tell the waiter about your order for soup, main course, dessert and drinks along with any particulars for each item of food. Then you will become quiet. The ordering will go either clockwise or anticlockwise depending on who on the right or left of the first order starts to speak first, or louder. At the end of the order the person paying for the food, or the general leader of the group based on social situation or group structure will order appetizers. And that is it. Then the waiter will go.

There should be no excessive confusion on what to order. Unless there are dietary issues it does not matter if you have Mayo in your sandwich or not. There should be no interruption of other orders, the “Please make my steak medium well done” is not an adorable thing. Rather, when you say it, I want to poke my fork in your nose and see you bleed to death because I am giving my order now, and I will not be forced to live a life of miserable food because you could not make your brain work long or hard enough for it to churn out your choice of food from a menu which actually helped you select what you wanted to eat. That was incredibly vicious and virulent. I guess the old Jalal is coming back.

Thank God.

Actually, saying that this whole restaurant order thing if my family issue would be wrong. It is representative of Pakistanis’ lack of clarity of thought and ability to do simply tasks without adding a lot of confusion and excessive ignorance, interruptions and stupidity to the process. Something that I have grown to love. The social conduct of a Pakistani group is always an amazing experience. Usually from a distance.

So there it was. In other news, my cufflinks broke. They just clean broke off and I had to walk about my office with my sleeves all rolled up. Get so very turned on by guys who have their sleeves rolled up and their tie loosened. So hot!

Irritability

Day 10,110 – Tuesday – 30 Vaisakh 1930 – 14 Jamadi ul Awwal 1429 – 20 May 2008

Dont get me wrong. I love my family. They are everything to me. But, at the same time, they are so seriously irritating.

I dont care what they believe in, or what they think, or how they think life is to be lived, I dont care. What I do care about is to be allowed to live my life how I want to live it. Period. And I dont make the demands on them that regular sons and brothers do, I should be making a lot of noise if the food at home is not well cooked, or if any of sisters has any interaction with any man from outside the family I should make an issue out of that. They all enjoy the freedoms of a society which believes in live and let live but at the same time deny me the same. So confusing.

On top of this, when I asked my mom that I wanted to move out, because they were not ready to accept me and I was not ready to reform myself, and I still wanted to lead a life that could make me happy. Every time she cried. It is not crying. It is blackmail. Her reaction scared me and I didnt talk to anyone else about it, because I cared for her. And when it become unbearable a couple of months ago, I told me father about the same. He told me that since I never talked to him about this, he is not to blame. How can any human being ask for something due to which someone so close to them has been crying about.

I was about to move out a couple of months ago. Then again I see my mother crying. So I decided against it. Yes, I agree, as per what they say, they didnt ask me to stay, but who would, what low life does something when someone else is crying in front of them. Could there have possibly been any other option in this whole world.

My family will never be happy at how I want to live. They do not believe in letting other people live their lives, they believe in their extremist interventionist lifestyle. If I can not be who I am and I am forced to live a lie I will be miserable. If I dont, my family will be miserable, and that would make me miserable.

All of you regulars to my blog have heard this before, but here it comes again.

Back to square one. Basically, no option of being happy in life. Since there is no possible way for me to be happy in this life, because I am never going to be allowed to. I have no idea what to do now.

To people out there reading this, please let people live. Please. Dont make their lives miserable simply because you can. Do not force your ideas on them. Do not consistently tell them what to do, they may not resist you, but they resent it. Do not treat everything they say as disrespect and opposition.

And to all the women out there who have a role in our lives as mothers, sisters, wives and daughters. Dont you dare cry. You have no idea what it does to us. For you it is an evil game through which you get us to do what you want us to do. To us it is painful. You have no idea, because to you it is a tool.

Departure

Day 10,084 – Thursday – 04 Vaisakh 1930 – 17 Rabi us Sani 1429 – 24 April 2008

Life moves on; along all the one million channels known to our conscious being. Work, family, friends, love, home, office, food, music, books, television, movies, society, culture, traditions, religion, activism, freedom, slavery, anger, hatred. All the one million channels through which our existence passes on a daily basis. The threads that define our being human, our being normal, our being what we are as individuals and as members of a larger whole. Enjoying the unpredictable ebb and flow of the tides of our life’s currents we forget life. We walk past new experiences, beautiful feelings and wonderful ideas.

Then, there is the inevitable, the final departure, the ending blow, the advent of the angel of death. That brings all to a stand still and each and every moment is as strong as years. We cherish a commodity that we felt very cheap moments ago. Life.

The presence of death makes life all the more poignant.

My father’s counsin’s husband passed away last night. Great man. Without being involved in my life he made major changes in my life. This makes him my second mentor to leave this world in the past six months. What a loss. My current profession is basically due to him. One day I got a letter to sign. Signing it meant a complete change of profession and work life for the rest of my life. My father called this guy up to ask him for advice. And, he gave one heck of a piece of advise. He was an incredibly successful guy, but more importantly, he was the cause of success of others as well. What else can be asked for?

There were all the usuals. Rushing to the hospital late last night. The Namaz e Janaza when it finally hits you that the loss has taken place. Then the graveyeard. The dust. The graves. The feeling of such peaceful serenity. The final resting place. It is haunting to say the least. More so because one feels a certain bond with the peace and looks forward to the eternal departure. Not proactively, but the setting effects. But the most haunting part is the grave. So true for all of us. It is indeed where we will all go. Such a small place. Forever. Eternity. Cool, moist soil. And at the end of it all, you slide your hands ever so slightly into cool, dry, dusty soil. The fingers grazing the texture of the soil. The soil that you are to become a part of. And then the final throw. A fistful of soil thrown on the grave of a loved one.

The final departure. Such a small act. Such a complete goodbye. Forever.

Life is so precious. Yours, and that of everyone else. Enjoy it, while the tune of life plays. Gather a huge treasure of memories of your loved ones. That is all that will worry you in your final time.

Although I am still sad for his demise. I will not let go of his words. I will live a wonderful life. I will make every bit of my life beautiful, and give everyone else the same advice. Your life is beautiful, make it so.

Afterthoughts

Day 10,045 – Sunday – 26 Phalgun 1929 – 07 Rabi ul Awwal 1429 – 16 March 2008

So, ten days, no blogging. Been depressed for a couple of months now. Never really thought about how I wanted my life, just went about over working myself and running away from the dreaded questions that solitude would lead me to. And then I stopped, somewhere in October or September last year. And have been in a continuous state of depression since.

But, this week, I did something useful. I have been wanting to move out since October 2003. I actually checked my blog to get the date right. And then I told my mom that I have been asking her for this for the past four years and four months. And, then I told her that after not being given what I want for four years I am spent and will not listen to whatever they say. Of course, not having slept or eaten for the past three days gave a certain pallour to my skin and my mother, worried beyond her wits, agreed that I should be allowed to move out if I wanted it that badly.

So easy, but, where the fuck am I going to get back October 2003 to February 2008. However, this teaches me never to fuck with anyone elses life, because life is too precious. And it is murder if you kill someone with a gun or if you kill them with pain, or lack of attention, or lack of freedom, or whatever the way it is. Every human is different. And every human must be given the right to decide how they live. Otherwise, people just start to die inside. Not good. Not good at all.

Khair, all said and done. I am going to start looking for a place now.

But, the fact that if all I had to do was progressively loose weight, sleep and become an absolute zombified anti social creature reserved to my room for days on end and only then my parents would agree to listen to what I have been saying for all this time. I should have been more ruthless with them. I should not have listened to them. I should not have given them the benefit of any doubts. It feels like such a waste.

Khair, the depression is over. But, I feel hollow and incomplete. Something like floating over water. Something like being light and airy and bobbing up and down. I can not feel my feet firmly planted on the ground. I can not understand some things that I could. I am living in a surreal environment. And now that I actually have what I wanted, I dont feel that it is that important any more. What was more important was that I should have gotten in earlier on.

As I sit here writing this. I have no idea what I want next in life. Just this one thing has been so long and so painful, I dont know if I want anything else.

Explanations

Day 10,035 – Thursday – 27 Safar 1429 – 16 Phalgun 1929 – 06 March 2008

I am gay. I have told me father, mother and sisters about it. They find it disgusting, wrong and morally corrupt. They are not ready to accept that I am gay, after some time they have accepted that I have been corrupted by someone, they are not ready to accept it and I can not do anything about it. I am ok with being gay, and I do not put any restrictions on the lives of the rest of my family, live and let live. But the same principle is not applied to me.

I want to be gay. I want to live a life of my choosing. That is not possible if I live with my parents like all other normal Pakistani guys. Again, I do not put any restrictions on anyone else, but my life is made hell.

I want to live separately. I told my parents about this and I also told them that I am very different from them and the things that I want are very different from everyone else. One must make allowances for people who are different. And I shoul. d be allowed to live separately, that in my eyes was the only way for me to lead a life of my choosing. Family had issues, could not be done.

I am selfish. I was told that I am extremely selfish for wanting to do this even when I know it will hurt my family. I dont want to do it because it will hurt them. I am not going to do it. But, living a life that I dont want to live, I am never going to be happy.

I am obsessed with one thing. Why do you want to give up everyone because of one thing (read, sex with men). The answer is that, I dont want to. Just that you guys will not allow me to. So, I can as a human want two things. But obviously I am not going to get either one of the two.

I hate my family. I am heartless and do not love anyone and that is why I want to live alone. Also, I am selfish and do not care for others and I am not ready to sacrifice for the family as I should. Why doesnt the family just sacrifice two things for me, let me live separately and let me lead a life of my choosing. Where the fuck is that sacrifice?

If I feel that my past three years have been wated because I was not allowed to live alone it doesnt mean that there is anything wrong with anything. Acutally, there is, this means that I have failed as a person. Everyone 3-4 years I will feel sorry for not having done things differently in the past. This one experience proved that this is how I will be. Noone wants to live in a state of consistent defeat, forced conditions and mulling over loss.

I should not have been allowed to live separately because I would have gotten into bad habits and also because I was completely unable to take care of myself. First, not your decision, it was my decision. Second, everyone learns, so would I have. Thank you for wasting my time and my life. I dont hate you. But, for not letting me live, I am sure you hated me.

What the fuck to do with my depression. I dont know. I dont care. I dont give a fuck.

The scariest part is that, after I have been screaming out that I need to be allowed to live my life, and been rejected over and over again, my will to live has died out, and as of this moment, I have no interest in being alive, the only thing keeping me alive is my inability to articulate the above sentence properly enough to explain to myself why me life means something to either me or someone else.

I have realize that if over a period of time, someone is stifled, be they right or wrong, or whatever the fuck, they will slowly die from inside. And I think, that stage has hit me. I have died from inside. Nothing holds meaning for my any more. And I dont care about anything.

Even if you think that someone else is wrong, but if they decide for something in their life, please for God’s sake, for the sake of all that is good in this world, please let them live the way they choose, and please dont kill them. Stopping someone from choosing their life is akin to murder.

Slipping

Day 10,033 – Tuesday – 25 Safar 1429 – 14 Phalgun 1929 – 04 March 2008 

Life sucks. Hate life. Want to move out to my own place. But, I talked to my parents about moving out again. And my mom said that she will not let me live like that since she still thinks I am a baby and can not care for myself. And my father gave me psycho babble about how everyone will say that my mother and sisters have been abandoned to live alone. But he said, that if I still wanted it, I can move out. But then he told me that it will destroy the family and he will have to leave his job.

So basically, they both said no. So, I force myself, discipline myself, organize myself and push myself each living moment to feel life and enjoy life and live life. But, I can not live my fucking life if there are people standing there to ensure that anything that I might want in life is denied to me because according to them it is not the right way for me to live.

Fuck this.

I have never been this depressive in my whole life. I force myself to keep away from the depression. But it just doesnt go away. I dont know whether I would want the rest of my life to end up being depressive half the time and fighting it the other half.

Mortality

Day 10,030 – Saturday – 22 Safar 1429 – 11 Phalgun 1929 – 01 March 2008

So, for the past couple of weeks, I have been having issues grappling with life, death, mortality, my own life, my mortality. The length of my life. How long I got. How long most people get. How incredibly short seventy years is. Youth. How short youth is. Is my youth over? How much longer will it last? What is the essence of life? How do I know it? How do I get it?

Seemingly, each question, less than eight words, but contemplation material for a lifetime.

The canvas of these questions is so broad that they have been thought of and contemplated and deliberated with such intensity and for so much time that I possibly can not do justice to this topic in a post. But, since it occupies my mind nowadays, I think it is pertinent.

How short life is, and how strongly, as of this moment, I feel that all that life is about is the other humans in my life: family and friends. But, do I loose them? I dont believe in an after life. So, with the last breath of anyone I love, or with my last breath, that bond is broken forever, and all that remains is protons and worms and old clothing that smells like the cologne I used to wear. On the one hand, it pains me to think that the bond is broken and the relationship is over. To me the loss of this treasure of mine is more than my life, the loss of my life will be less of a trajedy than the loss of these relationships. On the other hand, I must cherish each and every moment of my life with them. I must, there is never enough time, and I love them so much. Life is to live.

I have found another reason for being, for feeling alive, for life. The will to explore. Knowledge. Poetry. Literature. Art. Music. Science. Humans. Cities. Countries. I want to explore everything. As much of this immense and complex world that we have. If there is Allah, he has planned this world in a way that none of us would be able to see everything in their lifetime, and hence enjoy each and every bit just as much. Planned for perfection. Maybe that is why life is short, intense and meaningful. Travel gives me a high. Reading poetry gives me a high. On most occasions, my work gives me a high. Life is for living. Too beautiful to live.

The most beautiful things in life are free. The ability to enjoy whatever life may offer. Soldiers in fox holes laugh at jokes. The ability to appreciate beauty. I would consider my life lost if I had not known Faiz. The ability to learn and grow into a greater person. These are free, and we should make as much use of them as possible.

I was slightly shaken from this when my uncle passed away last year. I smsd one of my friends about this, and SAR sent me an sms that brings things into so much perspective, that I consider this email one of my most precious possessions, “Once we perish theres no coming back so dance to the tune of life till the music lasts.”

SAR, I love you man. Have a long and beautiful life. All of you. Have a long (measured by depth, not time) and beautiful life, I can never ask more for any of you.

Likeness

Day 10,029 – Friday – 21 Safar 1429 – 10 Phalgul 1929 – 29 February 2008

Now, I know I am a self centered narcissist. I also know that one of my many fantasies is having to spend all my time with 100 perfect humans who keep asking me about myself (read, I am their centre of attention and thoughts) and who keep telling me about just how absolutely perfect and good I am (read, I am the most perfect being on the planet). And then, I actually have the audacity, to tell myself that I am not competitive. Bah, humbug! Oh, and yes, if this was not enough, I have started talking to myself in the car again. And, the person on the passenger seat, now talks in a British accent. I am very very worried about him. And me.

After saying all this, the general level of evilness of my friends becomes apparent after the following things happen to me.

So, like all normal 27 year old human beings, I saw someone in another car who looked at least more than 97% like me. Exactly, so, like all normal people, I sent the following sms to about 17 of my close family and friends “I just saw someone who looks exactly like me “. I expected everyone else to call me up immediately and telling me that they think it is an absolutely amazing occurence and can not go to work for the next one week because they are completely awed by this mundane detail of my life. And I expected at least one of them coming up with the statement that they cannot think anymore because of the profound nature of my revelation and end up spending their life writing two books about me and my ideas.

But, like self centered hags, I get the following replies,

Little Sister – Let me guess mustafa kamal:p? – Note – Too sarcastic.
Middle Sister – Who, when, where ??? Did he see u ??? – Note – Too confused.
Guy who sits two desks from mine – AH – Must have been sacred… So now u know how v feel – Note – You misspelt scared, bitch!
Best guy friend colleague – HS – No way.
Best guy friend colleague – HS – You are unique ma luv – Note – Too dismissive.
Female friend colleague – SR – Oh god! Not possible – Note – Too virulent.
Dad – How much
Dad – Met him? – Note – Too engrossed
Colleague who used to sit behind me – NA – Hehe :-) well now u r not the only one who is lovingly chubby. And U must be feeling very jealous now. – Note  – I am NOT chubby.
Best girl friend colleague – SS – Oh my god is that even possible :-/ – Note – Too hateful.
So, basically, when they do end up giving me a lot of attention, I call them names and dismiss them. And when they dont, I hate them for judgeing.

I so seriously fucking need to; a – get laid; b – get laid again 10 mins after the first time; c – see a shrink; and d – not drive the shrink nutso.