The Cold again!

It's that dratted cold again! ... this must be a record for me. Six times this year. There was one in January and now at the end in December. What a start and an end to your year. All I am doing is coughing and wheezing and sneezing. And with the kind of laziness I possess, I don't even take my antibiotics properly ... taking the dose a day and skipping it the other day.I don't know, I just don't remember sometimes.So those bacteria or viruses or whatever inside me might have become super-super-resistant by now. Anyways, I think I should go now. My head is aching terribly. Besides, I don't think anyone reading would be interested in my grumbling.

Dreams ...

Steam is rising in soothing spirals from the mug of tea my hand holds. The room is dark, except for my dear old lamp illumining the page I am writing on (yes, I wrote this on a page earlier ‘coz the internet wasn’t available … besides I like this way better ... there is nothing like a pen in your hand and a blank page in front to fill). And I am thinking about ... uhm ... dreams. Dreams … such a wonderful word … say it aloud to yourself … what a savoury delight it gives you. Your mind stirs up heavenly, glorious visions … you want to be lost in this pool, in this pensieve, of your dreams, no matter the time. Let it toll its knell. Let it tick. The surface ripples. More images rise up. Some of them you remember no longer … a mist fogs their view. Others you see through a broken, tainted glass. Some just newly woven, ready to be more dreamt about, more fantasized about, and to be embellished a bit more; a little something here, a little something there. A few of these dreams (or for some many), you know are never going to tread the bridge that leads the unreal to real. But you dream on. What makes you? How can you indulge yourself in this world of chimera? Escaping? Patting yourself to sleep while harsh, painful realities around you rage on. I know I’ll never understand. Perhaps it’s just a survival mechanism … protection from the innumerable harmful elements that surround. Or maybe it’s the act of complicating-what-is-simple that I am doing. Why not just stop questioning the why of it and just exult in the process. Of Dreaming. Maybe the urge has always been there … implanted in your brain, ever since you were born. Wait …

There is a wind coming my way. I can smell its characteristic unearthly fragrance … can feel it carrying me away. Let me then, just close my eyes and be whisked away to my Neverland. I can tell you, it is beautiful.


Written an hour later: If you cannot make sense of the above sentences, no need to worry. Sometimes, while trying to grasp the meaning behind things I confuse, mix up and render everything more unintelligible than before.I am not a philosopher or anyone else of that sort. It’s just that sometimes my thought patterns thread through hitherto undiscovered regions and I have to come back, on my own, by way of strange zigzagging pathways. Not that it isn’t exciting (okay, its all Rupert Birkin’s fault, in the book ‘Women in Love’ … he is fascinating … incomprehensible sometimes, yes, but still fascinating … not that I can match his incomprehensibility, ever. I am not even close).

Wait … sometimes my mind goes completely round the twist. I think I should just leave, before this gradually-going-haywire mind of mine sputters nothing else but nonsensical gibberish.

Any Hope for Pakistan?

This constant feeling of doom pervades through my being each day … coming nearer and nearer. Doom for Pakistan. Each day I watch the hapless state of its people on TV & each day I read about the petty squabbles of its power-loving politicians who meanwhile spend colossal amounts of money on their bullet proof BMW’s and special aircrafts. I have been watching and reading for months now, even years. Each time I look helplessly on, like someone enduring the sight of his mother undergoing the most brutal torture ever, his mother being maimed and mutilated. He writhes in agony, struggles to break free from the invisible ropes that bind him. Struggles with all his might. But no, the ropes are like steel. Break them he can’t. He can hear her cries. Feel the pain. He is condemned to suffer every second. Till he goes senseless. Or his mother remains no more. Okay, I think perhaps I am losing myself in the example. This however, is what I feel. What all of Pakistanis feel I am sure, or at least all those Pakistanis who classify themselves as thinking and feeling beings (though we do seem to be having a dearth of them too right now). Pakistan today or the one that has been in existence ever since its independence is not a dream that Jinnah dreamt of. It’s not the dream for which thousands of Muslims were willing to lose everything they had. It’s not my dream. The soil those people kissed, as they put their first steps on it, is corrupted now. I do realize that I am being a bit too sentimental at the moment, but days and days of watching the same people with their insatiable appetites, plundering and besmirching the dignity and pride of your country, sometimes leaves you with no hope at all and in that complete state of powerlessness I am writing this. Not to say of course that there is no hope. There is always hope (as Aragorn says in LOTR movie), definitely. If we don’t see the stars on an overcast sky, doesn’t mean they are not there. We have to wait for the clouds to disappear or in this case, go and disperse them ourselves. So, at least I am ending this on a note of hope. You have to hope. There is no other alternative. But it's easy to say that. Where exactly will that hope come from? From the educated people, in the comfort of their drawing-rooms, who do nothing except launch into their long diatribes against the government? No, only from the people who deeply and zealously care for their country. And I am not saying that we don't have people of that sort. But its such a long long road ahead and countless stumpholes (I am afraid I can't find this word in a dictionary but I do kinda like it). We have to be ready for a long labourious journey. And every tiny step does count. I can only wish for that unity Pakistan's people achieved when the Kashmir calamity struck. Meanwhile, each one of us who realizes the enormous depth of the chasm Pakistan is in, should do his/her bit. So ends this long speech of mine. But its not just a speech. Its something coming out of the extreme frustration I've had. The Kalabagh Dam bickerings raging on these days have a part to play too. I hope there isn't going to be another Bangladesh.

Anyways gotta go now.
Bye.

The two K's: Kashmir and Kalabagh

The cold, brutal winter of Kashmir has arrived and hankering dangerously after its prey. Pneumonia is already gradually increasing among children, with every other person exhibiting cold. Life has moved on for people elsewhere in Pakistan (not for everyone). There are other hot topics to discuss these days, Kalabagh Dam for one. Not that the topic need not to be discussed. An year or so ago, Arundhati Roy(Greater Common Good article in her book Algebra of Infinite Justice)led me to believe or at least led me to think in favour of the belief that big dams aren’t useful at all … just something that the imperialist powers are imposing upon the developing nations … and being a loafer that I am, I didn’t search thoroughly then about the credibility of her belief, though she did present a highly convincing case. Now that Kalabagh Dam is upon us, I am forced to seek out the reality behind this Big Dam Business that India and Pakistan are so fond to engage in. I need a bit of time to do a little googling and reading here and there for a few days or perhaps weeks so I’ll come back later with that. If any one single entity is reading this out there (though I am not really sure infact not sure at all) and knows something about it please let me know. I need to form an opinion about this. Anyways the people of Kashmir are suffering : Quake survivors blankets appeal … they still need blankets and more help… it is incredibly frustrating … I can’t do enough about it except just listen to the news and get more frustrated. My dad was planning to go there with some of his friends and he promised to take me with him but at the moment it seems that the plan isn’t really going to undergo any implementation of some sort. And my mom won’t let me go with him now, if he ever plans to go that is. She’ll go into a lengthy harangue of how day-and-nightly I need to study for my MCAT, if you just even mouth a single sentence related to going somewhere. And to maintain the patient reputation I have, I just sit there and listen and placate and try to divert her attention through anything that will not erupt her into another of those lectures. So at the moment all I can do is pray for them. If anyone is reading and can afford to help please visit Muslim Aid and You Can Help(Islamic Aid)... or there are plenty of others out there too. I have to go now.

Written Later : The main reason behind my abrupt departure was the undesirable arrival of my brother, who had to play Age of Empires or FIFA or any other one of the countless games of his. I had to go. Otherwise, he just does something(like plugging the computer off) that makes me rue my decision, of not letting him play, for the rest of my life. But I do have to go now.Will come back with the next post.

Topicless

Greetings everyone ... (though there'll be nobody reading at the moment except me ... *shrugs*)

Two hours of continuous mind-prodding and no witty/interesting/sensible name comes up. Just not in my fate. So An Unnamed Blog is all I can settle for(It's not that bad, is it?) . Anyways, at least the day has finally come ... when at last I am going to write in my first-ever post in my first-ever blog. I have thought about it for sooo long (okay only about a few months) ... there was this and that and I thought perhaps it will be a massive time-waster( not that I am much bent upon saving my time). But my thoughts have become too much for me ... and I am not even writing in my "paper" diary since these past few months ... there is so much to grapple with in this world. The list is endless ... from your mom to Iraq to why is nature going berserk all of a sudden. And then I thought okay thats it! ... no more thinkin', no more hesitatin', lets just go and sign up and so I have :). Finally.
So this blog is going to be a personal journal ... a storage box to contain countless mind patterns that are almost clogging my brain ... my opinions and my interests ... which means Lord Of The Rings and Harry Potter will come top on the list ... *can already hear my friends' groan*;) ... okay there is going to be other stuff tooo like news, that of the world and my own beloved country ... though I am kinda not litsening to much news these past few weeks ... to escape the constant depression that it puts you in ... but you can't really escape so I am going back to BBC and CNN again and our very own Geo ... one of my dad's favourite channel so have to endure it ... though it is good ... definitely better than PTV( a channel I haven't watched since a few years) ... Oooops ... I am digressing. Okay. Coming back. So thats what it is going to contain. I assure you that these opinions are not going to be the finest you've ever read ( you have to make allowance for my fledgling brain ) and neither are they going to be in the finest of languages ( I am still learning). I am not discouraging prospective readers am I? Anyways my point is, read at your own risk. I will not be responsible for any wasted time that might be incurred. So enough warnings? And yeah I forgot tellin' ... this blog might also contain my own petty yearnings and problems and stuff of that kind. Writing everything out has always been to me,as to many other people, like a brain massager; it puts my brain to ease, and enables the electrical flow within my nervous pathways to travel more smoothly (at least my brother has to be thankful for that :) ) ... doesn't mean I am perfect at what they call the skill of letting words clothe your thoughts but I will try ... as always ... *sigh* ... though it has taken a great deal to write what I can write at the moment, being a non-native speaker of English and all that ... Anyways ... I see I already have displayed my penchant for rambling ... though its no way as near as it used to get in my normal diary (though its not long really ... just appearing so in this bigger font) ... When am I going to learn the meaning of sticking-to-one-point I don't know ... I don't think I am going to write anymore ... got some work to do ... Be Back Later ...