Kokaine Katha

Once There Was A Blog I Called Mine ...

2007-07-13T23:13:00.000-04:00

... and now its just a collection of writings that I indulged once upon time. Its like walking into an attic and discovering a cobweb covered box with old diaries in it. I had never been the kind whod write notes in a dairy or maintain a journal (how gay is that for men hehehehe) but still the blog allowed me to share my opinion with some lost soul on the web who would find their way to my blog through some coincidence or the other.
According to the activity tracked most people have visited this blog using the keyword 'kokaine'. It turns out that in some language the drug is spelled with a K and not with a C whod have thunk that eh. But while I sit here tonight in a darkened apartment (for effect not because of power failure) listening to Nusrat Fateh Ali, drinking a concoction with ingredients from the Appleton Estate and waiting for the fish bake, it only made sense to log onto the blog world yet again and dispose of the verbal diarrhea had been accumulating in my mind.
I think this blog needs a change of some kind. Some thing more inspiring and motivating, something that reflects change. Much like the several changes that have happened over last little while. I am not sure what the change should be, but a change is needed. In the words of Cheryl Crow, A Change Would Do You Good.
In the mean time I will keep on updating this blog with weekly blogwords, my opinions on anything from the lal masjid fiasco to girl who killed her parents in western canada and the family weddings that I recently attended. Actually I am dying to talk about the family wedding I recently attended but the fish is done and the drink needs to be topped. Till next time.

Cheers

In The Name of All Thats New In My Life

2007-04-17T21:25:00.000-04:00

Theres something very comforting about lying down in bed, while listening to some classic rock, and blogging. To some others out there like me it may be an ideal retreat from a dreary exhausting day, make that a week, no make that a month. I have been MIA from the blogsphere for the last little while. Not that it made a huge difference, no lives were lost, no hearts were broken, no dreams were shattered and rest assured several animals of various variety continued galvanting around in their pastures.
My life, on the other hand has, unbeknowest to myself, suddenly evolved. A handful of 'new' happened and its only now that I have started to recoup from being hit by the unforeseen, the unexpected and the unanticipated. My new job started litreally with a bang. My first day at it being far from ideal but thankfully things got back on track soon afterward. In hindsight, Id rather start with a bump than face it in the middle of the way.
When I blogged last I was living in Toronto. Yes, surprise, surprise, I have moved. With the good comes the compromise and in this case, the new job pulled me out of the big city. Well not all that much out since I am still a 20 minute drive from it, but none the less, I was forced to move to the king of Canadians suburbs, the place that is the epitome of all thats unholy about suburban lifestyle, Mississauga. The upside to the move is a very nice, cosy and comfy condo, stuck away in a corner of this land of strip malls and cookie cutter houses. Among all the bells and whistles that these complexes have my favorite one is the availability of an indoor swimming pool. At the same time, my little enclave comes not only with a beautiful view but also a working fireplace. And I am just waiting for next winters to throw a log in and bask in the warmth of natural wood fire.
So that was the unanticipated, I found the place and moved all within a span of fifteen odd days. Saturday was the start of the move, with all the fragile, handle with care stuff being moved and sunday saw me behind the wheel of a U Haul, hauling my furniture and other little belongings to the new pad. Unpacking has been brutal, boring and down right tiresome. The night before, Ryan and I paid parting tributes to some local establishments, like the duke of westminster, the duke of devon, jack astors and the wheat sheaf. And so began my journey as the urban suburban.
The unforeseen has been the demands of the job itself. No body said it would be easy, but its challenging in a very positive way. See I am a consultant who farms business for one of the largest IT companies in the world. I keep throwing out ideas to a set of clients about what they need to do to improve their business. My sector of focus is a tricky one so to keep up with the Jones' of the industry I have to stay on top my job and on my feet. Its fun, its rewarding but also extremly time consuming with the ability to suck the juice out of my brain and the energy out of my body and we are talking about a pretty big body here. But whats fun about a job thats not challenging!
And so we come to the unexpected,what might that be you ask? Well Ill leave that story for a more opportune moment, maybe it will keep your anticipation up and occasionaly drag you back here. Also, its a story in development and there is nothing worse than serving a half boiled egg is there. So the lid remains in tact on this pot boiler till the day its contents are simmering and ready to be served.
In the meantime, I will try and keep tossing in occasional nuggets of kokaine wisdom to keep you thrilled.

till next time

cheerios folks.

Beginings

2007-03-13T13:29:00.000-04:00

They say you can tell the age of tree by the rings that circle the circumference of its trunk. For people wrinkles do a similar job, but, as we are well aware, they only lead to estimate the physical age which may not say much about a person. Experience on the other hand, adds that poise to the personality, that receding hair line and prominent forehead to the physical being, that gleam in the eye and the tenacity in voice which is often characteristic of a mature adult being.
It does have an other side to it as well. The side where, again based primarily on experience, us allegedly mature adults surround our self in a comfort zone. We define our being with numerous objects and attributes and tend to surround our self with all things "us". We thus enter a state of constancy where life moves like a car ride on a highway through the prairie flat lands. "What’s up" is answered with "same old", the zing and the flash that had been a part of us, slowly start to disappear. We start spending more time at Wal Marts and Ikeas and less time at places closer to the soul with people closest to the heart and eventually, as Tyler Durden said, the things we own start owning us.
Then, while still in this comfort zone and tackling the routine path of life, we come across a person, a question, an event, that challenges our notions. The challenges seem oddly familiar, its happened before. Its like being hit in the face with a blow of wind that carries a new fragrance and one cant help but trace the path of the wind with their eyes closed and the nose leading all other senses. And this is how it all begins, the step that we had been waiting for, the one instance that pulls us out of our comfort zone and shakes things around.
Life suddenly gets more colour, the prairie highway suddenly turns into a curvy road snaking a path through a city market full of character. We get a new meaning, a new look and a new zest for life. We look at the monotony that had engulfed our being, the commodities that defined us and all we see are blue pills that kept us suspended in our comfort zone. And that person, question, event that met us a little while ago is the red pill of liberation that gradually brings the zing back to our life. We start feeling snap coming back, words that were previously lost somewhere in your head start rolling of your tongue, ideas that awaited action now take a course. Youth in its mature experienced and adulterated (for the lack of a better term) form re-emerges.
And when I find silver in my hair and rimmed spectacles holding on to my ears, I hope to tell several stories where a person, question, event changed the course of my life into something more glorious than it could have been. That, as I will tell anyone who listens, that person, question, event is how it all began.

The Big Wait

2007-03-06T11:37:00.000-05:00

Life, as someone wise may have already said it, is the greatest waiting game of all. Its a sequence of large waiting rooms connected by corridors of events. We step into these corridors and they end up in another waiting room. Our stay here is dictated primarily by things beyond our control. We wait for moments that justify our transition to the next corridor and the hall at the end of it. We seek out the right flag, the right light, the right cry, the right whistle, the right trigger to cause the action and so begins another transition from one point to the next.
I had been waiting for such a signal as well and I got the green light on Friday. A major career related move took place. Celebrations happened, congratulations were extended to yours truly, revelrous evenings and hillarious incidents ensued and then it was back into a new waiting room. Now, as I sit here in transition yet again I look out for signals. I pace the town looking for a new apartment like an anxious father paces outside the labour room in a hospital. I know its very unfair to compare a child with a new home but the idea is eventual feeling, the adrenalin rush that occurs at the end of the big wait. Its that moment when we are running through the corridor full of excitement, seeing that light at the end of it. Everyone around is equally ecstatic, life acquires fever pitch and suddenly you push through a door and land up in another waiting room. Your entourage falls silent, your adrenalin disapears and you look at all those eyes in the waiting room that are staring back at you for disturbing their peace and quite. Before you know it, you find yourself in a private corner keeping as quite as the others waiting for your turn to scamper through that fun filled corridor again and whenever a high strung group rushes through the door you join in, in staring at them.
Its this rush through the corridors of life that we, well some of us, live for. We will go through the pangs of boredom and monotony just for that one quick rush from one big white colorless waiting room to the other. I guess thats why someone coined the phrase, well worth the wait.

2007-02-28T16:51:00.001-05:00

why cant there be some healthy snack in the vending machine for 50 cents! :@

Dear Scarlett

2007-02-22T10:29:00.000-05:00

I came across this new item on Dawn a little while ago

Scarlett Johansson visits poor in India NEW DELHI, Feb 22 (AFP) Hollywood actress Scarlett Johansson is in India visiting projects to help the country's poor, the international aid agency Oxfam said Thursday. The actress arrived in the country Monday and met children in slums and schools in New Delhi, an Oxfam spokeswoman said.

Suddenly parts of Junoon's song Pehli Lagaan (from Talash) started playing in my head:

Mein yahan tum wahan
Buss yaadein reh gai
Keh Saka Jo na Mein
Woh Batain reh gai
Jagnay Kay Liey
Buss Raatein Reh Gai
Rastay Hai Waheen
Dooriyan Bur Gai
Chairti hain mujhay
Meri Tunhaiyaan

HAHAHAHA - I need to get a life.

A Daring Wanderer

2007-02-21T21:25:00.000-05:00

I was barely a teenager when I was introduced to the Spartans and the Greeks and how they fought the world. It was then that I learned the phrase "O Tolmon Nika", which translated to english means Who Dares Wins. It became a bit of a catch phrase for me that I freely dropped at every opportunity I got in my early teenage days.
While growing up in Bahadurabad and playing cricket matches at the Cocun Ground whenever we'd run into a tough spot Id my tell my team "remember boys, O Tolmon Nika." I remember Farrukh, my teams front line bowler, asking me what it meant and I saw his eyes gleam with hope when I told him the meaning. Hence, O Tolmon Nika, sort of became our teams unofficial tag line.
The best thing about that age is the lack of inhibition in friendships. We never cared that Iftikhar, our teams wicket keeper and opening batsmen was an Afghan refugee whose family lived and worked at the neighbours house. To us Ifti was akin to Shahid Afridi, yet a bit more reliable. Anyone who has played Cocun knows that its not the easiest of parks to hit a ball out of. Yet Ifti would go up to bat with his red and blue woven afghani cap on his head, the shalwar raised up and tucked in at the waist and would slam ball after ball after ball out of Cocun. I never expected him to remember the phrase or the meaning of O Tolmon Nika. But one day after a critical match in the mohalla league I joked with Ifti about his sparkling innings that would put Aamir Sohail to shame (Sohail was my favuorite Pakistani opener) and Ifti turned around to me and said "O Tolmon Nikkay". I laughed real hard and I said "Ifti its Nika not Nikkay. Nikkay means young one in Punjabi" and he said "I am Younger than you so nikkay for me" and we went laughing and cracking jokes all the way home.
Roughly a year after that my family moved to another neighbourhood and its been about fifteen years since I met Ifti. A few years back I ran into the folks whose house his family used to live in. I inquired if they knew what Ifti was up to. They told me he had done his BComm (Bachelors of Commerce) in Karachi and the they had heard that he had recently gotten a clerical job at some factory.
I was very pleased to hear that, Iftis family was not very well to do. That added to the fact that they were in a country that wasnt their homeland would have certainly made it more difficult. A number of refugees from Afghanistan had chosen to join the labour force at an early age and skipped schooling altogether. But it seemed Ifti had fought the odds. When I saw todays blog word, I somehow got reminded of Ifti. He dared to make a life from him and I hope he did well. I wonder if he still remembers the team, our matches at Cocun or O Tolmon Nika.

Killing Time

2007-02-19T17:03:00.000-05:00

Awful awful monday. For some reason, couldnt sleep too well and the got hit with a bad case of monday blues. In such an environment procrastination fosters and while going through Waking Life I came across across a little online app that lets you create your own South Park characters. What more could I have asked for.

So heres what I came up with.

This is what Id look like if I were in a south park episode. Notice the eye brows and till last friday my hair were pretty much the same.

This, as I elaborated to Hira, was what I felt like after a night sleeplessness.

This one was made with Zain in mind. Zain is a co-worker who is obssesed with Batman, to the level he attributes his short sightedness to his bat like qualities, as in blind like a bat (Yes, I work with loosers, but blame HR for it.).

I passed some of this work over to Adnan who insisted that I make a South Park character based on him. What came out was my best South Park character to date, introducing Addy in South Park (it looks a lot like Adnan in real life)

After many trashed attempts, I decided to make a dying crusader flying through sky. Hence, the picture below

After running out of other ideas, I wondered what a young slash (of the GnR fame) would look like if he were blonde and on south park.

I dont know why I put the soccer ball in there, but I did and could'nt get rid of it. So I decided to leave it there. So all these creations, a little bit of work and finally this post has brought the day to an end. I hope you enjoyed the fruits of my procrastination.

Till the next case of it.

Cheers

2007-02-18T22:55:00.000-05:00

Kuch chayay, kia chayay, pata nahi
kuch kum hai, kia kum hai, pata nahi
Eik khaleej si jaisay dil mein ubhar ai hai
koi ghum hai, kia ghum hai, pata nahi.

Cant Get Enough

2007-02-16T13:31:00.000-05:00

Well it's late, and I want love
Love that's gonna break me in two
Don't hang me up in your doorway
Don't hang me up like you do

--Cant Get Enough of Your Love, Bad Compnay

A Wandering "Story"

2007-02-15T23:42:00.000-05:00

Another excerpt from my own collection for you to enjoy.

Shireen: So, what’s your story?
Hasan: Do I need one?
Shireen: No body needs a story, they are a part of at least one.
Hasan: Really, how many stories are you a part of?
Shireen: That’s up to your imagination, how many stories do you want me to be a part of?
Hasan: Did you just come on to me!
Shireen: So you imagine things as well.
Hasan: Come on, you just hit on me.
Shireen: Goodness Mr, Akbar, dignified women like myself don’t act in such a manner. I was merely proving my point
Hasan: That being?
Shireen: That every person is a part of a story, the only limit to their roles is the imagination of those who conceive the plot.
Hasan: And you assume that I have a conceived a plot in my head that involves you?
Shireen: Certainly, I know I have one that involves you.
Hasan: Is that so, pray do tell.
Shireen: Its still in the making. This is the first time we have met each other, the story starts today, the first words are being written as we speak. It will be a while before even the first chapter is ready.
Hasan: and I am assuming I play myself in the story
Shireen: Well yourself, at this point, is a stranger who decided strike up a conversation with the first woman you found approachable at this party and now you are wondering if that was such a good idea
Hasan: You sure are something
Shireen: Thanks for the euphemism Mr, Akbar. I always wanted to be “something”.
Hasan: Are you always like this, you know, edgy
Shireen: No, certain people bring it out in me. I am generally considered great company
Hasan: Not in my story
Shireen: and that brings around full circle
Hasan: It does.
Shireen: So lets start again, What is your story?

Stewie Griffin's Sexy Party: Hill'f'ing'arious

2007-01-07T14:14:00.000-05:00

I saw this on Omar's Blog and had to put it here. Man this kid rocks.

Family Guy - Stewie's Sexy Party - video powered by Metacafe

Click here for the lyrics

Thank You TBS

2007-01-07T01:04:00.000-05:00

WOW! What a treat. TBS decided to gain some point with Tarintino fans by putting up Kill Bill one and two back to back tonight. Whoever is calling the shots at that network did made a wonderful decision with this one.
I had almost forgotten how wonderful the movie was. I had only gotten around to watching the first volume of this part flick in theatre and had never quite gotten around to watching the second. If I were dying tonite, and I had the option to choose the method I would pick the five point palm exploding heart technique delivered by Uma Thurman.The only thing missing tonight was a huge theatre screen and a THX surround sound system. Other than that, I was glued to the tube like a three year old watching Barney sing "I love you, you love me we are a happy family".
So those of you who are in North America and havent seen the movie or wish it see it back to back, tune into TBS tomorrow at around 8 (thats what I think confirm the time to be on the safe side) for those of you who cant tune into TBS, find the next opportunity you can to rent the two movies and watch them back to back. Its honestly quite an experience. Heres a trailer to further accelerate the hype.

Kill Bill Vol.1 - video powered by Metacafe

TARANTINO ROCKS!

This Weeks BlogThought: It Takes Time

2007-01-06T02:52:00.000-05:00

I had written this a few months back as a part of my multi-titled, never ending, ever chaging book. Its had many story lines and several major alterations, but I have promised myself to be more diligent about it this year. With that in mind, I am sharing an excerpt from a portion of the story that I feel reflects this weeks blog thought. Its unedited and in my opinion quite raw, but exciting none the less, or so I think. Your comments, including ones like "dont quit your day job", are always welcome.

“This is it” he said looking at Khaled, “Wish me luck my friend I am going in for the kill.” Khaled smiled coyly and responded “it’s a bad omen to mention killing before initiating matters of love.” Nadir laughed and high-fived Khaled as he stepped out of his car, took a deep breath and headed towards the building entrance. He thought of something and turned around. “Here are the keys” he told Khaled as he flung his keychain towards him “keep the car running, we may have to rush for it.” This time he didn’t wait for Kahled’s response and turned back towards Marjan’s building.
The thought of revealing his emotions to Marjan had put a spring in his feet. He scampered towards the elevators and kept fidgeting with his Zippo while waiting for the elevator to come. The lines were spinning through his head. “Have you ever known someone who sweeps you of your feet, no not feet, have you ever known some who makes life feel complete. Yes, that’s it, a complete life that’s what you mean to me Marjan, you and I forever.” While he was still pondering over those thoughts the elevator door opened and Nadir jumped in.
“Take me to cloud number 9” he said pushing the button as though commanding the elevator to take him to Marjan’s floor. Like a performer preparing his ground breaking performance, Nadir kept his appearance in check in the mirror and rehearsed the lines. He had it all planned, Rafiq, the one man driver/cook/go-for-man at the Kahlili residence, would open the door . He would help himself in cracking a few jokes with Rafiq and walk into the drawing room. Rafiq would inform Mehreen of his arrival. He would ask Mehreen to get all the CDs he had loaned her so that he could pack them. Marjan would obviously come to meet him and while Mehreen was away he would spill the beans to Marjan.
He was still working over the finer details of the plan when the elevator came to a halt at the 9th floor. Nadir stepped out of the elevator; butterflies were doing rounds in his stomach like race cars in the Indy 500. He reached for the door bell and then paused. “What if Mehreen is offended” he thought to himself “what if Mehreen gives me a piece of her mind?” “But its Marjan, Nadir”, came his own response, “Its Marjan and its just not the same without Marjan.”
He raised his finger again to ring the bell when another thought struck him “What if her Dads home. He works from home some times, what if he is there today?” the daring side of him responded again “come on Nadir, you are just looking for excuses. It’s your last week in Karachi. You have to tell Marjan how you feel, it would be sinful not to.” And with that he rang the bell. A short little buzz once, followed by a longer one that was accompanied with a rap of knuckles on the doors.
The door opened and Nadir’s plans went back into the vacuum that they had spawned from. “Marjan” Nadir said with a true expression of surprise in his voice. “Hi Nadir, come on in” said Marjan as she led him into the apartment. “Close the door behind you, Rafiq has taken Mehreen to the studio, chai chalay gi na?”
“Yeah sure” Nadir responded half heartedly, thinking about how his algorithm of expressing profound affection was now facing an unforeseen event. “Maybe its better this way” he thought and went in the direction of the kitchen where Marjan had gone to make him a cup of tea.
He stood still at the kitchen entrance, struck by the beauty that was personified in Marjan. Rays from the afternoon sun diffracted through the kitchen window and fell straight over Marjan marking a sunlit silhouette. In that moment, he couldn’t really put a finger on any one thing that had attracted him to her. Maybe it was her deep black eyes in which the best of swimmers could drown. It could have been her long black hair that in all their variations over time had spun a web on his heart. It may have been her elegance and her mannerisms, how she put the tiny little clips in her hair to keep them from falling over her ears or how she balanced those square frames on her cute little nose.
While Nadir stood awestruck, Marjan put the kettle on the stove and turned around to see Nadir almost gaping her. She smiled and Nadir found his answer. He smiled back. “You seemed dazed” Marjan said as she walked up to him “have you been smoking up”. They both laughed “I am naturally high Marjan.” Nadir responded. In his mind, he was calculating his moves and trying to grasp the best moment to initiate his emotional spiel. But Marjan beat his thoughts “You know what, baba is working from home today, you should meet him. He wanted to meet you before you left.”
“Goddam Murphy’s law” muttered Nadir. Marjan gave him a puzzled look and he brushed it away with “That would be awesome.”
“Great, you go meet him in the study, Ill get tea for the both of you.”
Half an hour later Nadir came out of Marjan’s building bearing a bored and weary look. Khaled had reclined the car seat and was lying with his eyes shut and listening to R.E.M singing loosing my religion. “Give me the keys, lets go.” Nadir said as he sat back into the driving seat. “What happened, what did she say, what took you so long?” Khaled asked as he pointed to the keys in the ignition switch.
“Matters of the heart” responded Nadir “take their own time Khaled.”
“You didn’t tell her did you” asked Kahled rhetorically. He knew his friend too well
“No, but I think the seeds been planted”
“How is that?”
“I spent the last half hour talking to her dad and now I am certain that he thinks highly of me” said Nadir as he started the car.
Khaled nodded his head in disapproval. “You are hopeless Nadir” he said “I sent a friend in their and got a mali on the way out.”
They both laughed as Nadir took to the road, hoping to conjure up another plan of expressing his relentless love for Marjan before he left Karachi.

Awesome TVC

2007-01-03T10:45:00.000-05:00

Voodoo - video powered by Metacafe

This Weeks Blog Word: Most

2006-12-27T18:11:00.000-05:00

Considering we are heading into the new year, I thought it be a good idea to go over some events of this past year:

Most Awesome Feeling of the Year: The trip back to Pakistan in July/August
Most Shocking Moment of Realization: Seeing an old buddy in the role of a Groom
Most Amazing Experience: Being stuck in Karachi after for an extra week after the monsoon
Most Amazing Hosts of the Year: Kiran, Kabeer, His parents and his 1 year old son Basim
Most Amazing Conversation: Naj and I, at her house, a few hours before my flight back to Canada

Most Amazing Party of the Year: St. Patricks day at the Steam Whistle Brewery
Most Awesome Movie I Watched in the Theatre: Babel
Most Thought Provoking Read of the Year: Charlie Wilson's War
Most Awesome Series of the Year: Heroes on NBC
Most Awesome DVD I Bought This Year: Lord of War
Most Awesome Family Vacation: Montreal on the Memorial Day weekend.
Most Shocking Incident: The random brawl outside the downtown Paramount.

Most Thought Provoking Activity: Jammie's Blog Words/Phrases of the week
Most Amazing Meeting: Meeting Umar and Insiya - Umar after ages and Insiya for the first time.
Most Amazing Thanksgiving: The entire gang at Jamie's place in Waterloo

Most Amazing Website About Pakistan: Adil Najam's All Things Pakistani

Most Missed People: The entire Karachi crowd with all its goods and bads
Most Amazing News: The arrival of Rania, Naj's second daughter, yesterday.

I think I might have missed out a few things, I might make updates to this list.
None the less, its been quite a year, aint it.

Last Weeks Blog Word: Past

2006-12-27T17:36:00.000-05:00

Here is a song that got me interested in global politics, pop culture and history in general. A song from my past about a good number of influential events and icons that shaped the present of my generation and those before it as well. Check out the lyrics below.

Harry Truman, Doris Day, Red China, Johnny Ray
South Pacific, Walter Winchell, Joe DiMaggio
Joe McCarthy, Richard Nixon, Studebaker, Television
North Korea, South Korea, Marilyn Monroe

Rosenbergs, H Bomb, Sugar Ray, Panmunjom
Brando, The King And I, and The Catcher In The Rye
Eisenhower, Vaccine, England's got a new queen
Marciano, Liberace, Santayana goodbye

We didn't start the fire
It was always burning
Since the world's been turning
We didn't start the fire
Well, we didn't light it
But we tried to fight it

Joseph Stalin, Malenkov, Nasser and Prokofiev
Rockefeller, Campanella, Communist Bloc
Roy Cohn, Juan Peron, Toscanini, Dancron
Dien Bien Phu Falls, Rock Around the Clock

Einstein, James Dean, Brooklyn's got a winning team
Davy Crockett, Peter Pan, Elvis Presley, Disneyland
Bob Dole, Budapest, Alabama, Khrushchev
Princess Grace, Peyton Place, Trouble in the Suez

We didn't start the fire
It was always burning
Since the world's been turning
We didn't start the fire
Well, we didn't light it
But we tried to fight it

Little Rock, Pasternak, Mickey Mantle, Kerouac
Sputnik, Chou En-Lai, Bridge On The River Kwai
Lebanon, Charles de Gaulle, California baseball
Starkwether, Homicide, Children of Thalidomide

Buddy Holly, Ben Hur, Space Monkey, Mafia
Hula Hoops, Castro, Edsel is a no-go
U2, Syngman Rhee, payola and Kennedy
Chubby Checker, Psycho, Belgians in the Congo

We didn't start the fire
It was always burning
Since the world's been turning
We didn't start the fire
Well, we didn't light it
But we tried to fight it

Hemingway, Eichman, Stranger in a Strange Land
Dylan, Berlin, Bay of Pigs invasion
Lawrence of Arabia, British Beatle mania
Ole Miss, John Glenn, Liston beats Patterson

Pope Paul, Malcolm X, British Politician sex
J.F.K. blown away, what else do I have to say

We didn't start the fire
It was always burning
Since the world's been turning
We didn't start the fire
Well, we didn't light it
But we tried to fight it

Birth control, Ho Chi Minh, Richard Nixon back again
Moonshot, Woodstock, Watergate, punk rock
Bejing, Reagan, Palestine, Terror on the airline

Ayatollah's in Iran, Russians in Afghanistan
Wheel of Fortune, Sally Ride, heavy metal, suicide
Foreign debts, homeless Vets,
AIDS, Crack, Bernie Goetz

Hypodermics on the shores,
China's under martial law
Rock and Roller cola wars,
I can't take it anymore

We didn't start the fire
It was always burning
since the world's been turning.

We didn't start the fire
But when we are gone
It will still burn on, and on, and on, and on...

-- Billy Joel

Happy Festivus Everybody!

2006-12-22T11:45:00.000-05:00

A tradition that started in the 60s. A celebration for the common man, jolted back to life by Costanza and Kramer, its time once again to celebrate Festivus.
Bitch, whine, complain and let them know what its all about. Let the energy out, pin them to ground, shed the marterialism and gather around that shiny pole.

Festivus, for the rest of us.

Its Been A While, A Lot Has Changed

2006-12-20T17:04:00.000-05:00

Its been a while since I posted anything significant here. I made up for it with someone catchy little video clips from You Tube and Metacafe. For those who haven’t used MetaCafé, I find it better than you tube since there is less junk on it. That also means that their library is much smaller. Anyhew, I decided that I would use the opportunity of the dull pre-christmas work environment and my boss’s vacation, to slack off and bring this blog back to life. I can see my fans in the deep south high fiving and throwing around Yeah C’Mons, well lads time for some How You Doings.
So a lot has been happening lately, in my life and in the world that surrounds it. On a personal level, I am working on several new career opportunities and balancing the search with my current occupation, which requires intense client facing, has been an arduous task. In the midst of it I also realized there are certain things that we maybe good at and that’s what we want to do in life, but it may not be necessary to make a job or a career out of it. So I have been further contemplating about having a work-work balance i.e. having a job that I am good at and then a little something on the side that I enjoy. So that’s what the life of I has been over the past month or so, lots of work and lots of thinking, planning and executing the crucial little steps that will eventually lead to my global dominance *insert evil laugh here*. Ever since I saw Pinky and The Brain I have fancied saying the line “Tonight, Pinky, we take over the world”.
Speaking of the world, there is so much happening out there that I had wanted to comment on, from the repeal of the Shoaib/Asif doping verdict to the more recent pardoning of Tara Conner (Miss USA) by Donald Trump (co-owner of the Miss USA foundation). However, my biggest complain this month has to be the death or shall I say the murder of Old Man Winter. Yes people of the world, Old Man Winter has died and we are responsible for killing him. It was a slow death; he is now only present in spirit. The pollution, the depleting ozone layer, our love for plastics, SUVs, CFC and aerosol cans have finally led to the demise of Mother Nature’s old friend, Mr. Winter.
Having lived most of my life in a city with pretty much two seasons, I wasn’t much in sync with the concept of global warming. After having experienced all the four seasons in Canada over year last three years, I am disappointed to see a winter that’s not quite winter like. For those people who think Canada is all Igloos, imagine them melting. The temperature drops occasionally but the absence of the beautiful white snow that adds a jolt of life to the grey of winter is just unreal. Its unlike of Toronto to not have had a single snowfall into the mid of December and rest assured, this is not going to be a white Christmas.
Speaking of Christmas, we need to learn the underlying science of making Christmas Carols. They frigging get in your head and refuse to leave. You hear them and once and all of a sudden you will find yourself walking down the road, unconsciously humming Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer or Jingle Bells. I don’t know if it’s the music, the lyrics, the mention of Santa, but whatever it is, we need to learn it and maybe use it to pass on our own subliminal messages.
In other interesting happenings, Iran recently held a conference to discuss the veracity of the Jewish Holocaust in WW2. I think Ahmedinejad is really going over the top to draw the ideological borders in a world that already has significant ideological differences. I do agree with the fact that people should have the right to express their opinions and beliefs but giving it government patronage is almost like waving a red flag in front of a bull (the bulls being the west). There are other methods of handling political differences and I guess Ahmedinijad should consider them.
On the flip side, there was interesting view presented by an American attending that conference. David Duke was of the opinion that there should be more freedom of expression and the “Zionist controlled media” is depriving people of knowing the truth. Of special interest was an encounter David had with Wolf Blitzer on CNN where they went all out for each others neck. Even if David Duke had an agenda, Blitzer’s behavior belied his reputation as a leading anchor and he appeared to visibly perturbed by the encounter.
There were a few key takeaways from Duke’s appearance at the confrence. First and foremost has to be Dukes own background, with reference to the Klan( the Ku Klux one). Although he claims he does not have any further affiliations with the white supremacist members of the Klan, yet his involvement with the Klan in the past must influence any analysis of his comments. He also spoke how it was a bigger crime to be critical of the holocaust than saying some crap about Jesus, which I believe is a valid complain. All in all, he was very critical of the Jewish control over the US media and the countrys foreign policy. Supporters of the Iran should however be careful in considering it as a show of support to Iran. Their interest and those of Duke collude as long as they have a common enemy.
And finally we come to Miss USA, Tara Conner. Ah, Tara Conner, she thought she was Canadian, why else would a poor Kentucky soul like her indulge in the sauce otherwise. There was a good reason why the Canadians set their drinking age at 19, it was to avoid situations like these. I do pity the girl especially considering the fact that she has spent her entire life in a fake world where women are rewarded for their looks more than their intelligence. In such situations it’s natural for a beauty pageant competitor to forget how to use a brain. It’s also natural for them to find other girls, like the Miss Teen USA, attractive and eventually embrace them with a kiss after an evening of frolicking. She was right when she said everyone has demons, but so was Jon Stewart when he said that “My demons pay to watch your demons”. Ah, classic Stewart.
To further add fuel to fire, she went on to call Donald Trump a person with a heart of gold (Neil Young, anyone?). Yes Tara, he also lives in a house that has a gold ceiling, various accessories in his car are also made of gold. He is a tacky and tasteless person in general who wants to go one up. A brother can get a grill of gold, heck Donald will get a frigging heart of gold. Beat that my ebony friends.
And so it continues, our world and our lives. If an outbreak of a third world war doesn’t kill us, the slowly changing weather surely will. And when you look at this way, you couldn’t care less about a blonde beauty pageant winner from small town Kentucky who consumes anything that gets her high and screws anything that walks on two feet.

Really Funny

2006-12-04T13:44:00.000-05:00

I couldnt think of something coherent for the blog word really. However, there is something that I really find funny and thats family guy. So heres a really funny clip from family guy with my two favorite characters from the show, Stewie and Brian.

Enjoy

Family Guy - Brain Beatdown - video powered by Metacafe

A Wanderers Secret

2006-11-24T19:14:00.000-05:00

My biggest secret is falling in love with a unicorn and if you have ever read through this blog you would have seen several Unicorn references. On the occasion of this weeks blog word, allow me to elaborate on why Unicorn came to be called Unicorn. If you are thinking you'd find out who the Unicorn is then be ready to be dissapointed.

Unicorn is someone so vividly there yet so out of reach that she seems to be afantasy. She is pure, she is natural, shes honest. Like children get attracted to the grace of a unicorn, people fell weak in their knees when she smiles. One cant help but fall in love with my Unicorn and to her credit, shes the only person who leaves me searching for words. When I see her, or get a message from her on MSN or on Orkut I am left dumbfounded and that for me is a first. And that is probably also the primary reason (there are several secondary ones) why I have never been able to tell her how I feel.
And as it happens, the good birds fly away. I guess my Unicorn galloped or at least trotted to her soul mate, either way she is now betrothed. All I could say about it was dam. But so be it, it will be a first for me to be friends with someone I truly, madly, deeply loved.

We had the funniest conversation when I met her in Karachi this past summer and she asked me if there was someone new in my life. I said no, there is this old girl I cant get over. She suggested that I speak to her, I told her she is spoken for, she said if I loved her enough I will get her. I laughed. Cruel cruel fate.

So thats why I decided to call her my Unicorn and this happens to be my big secret, a woman I cant name, a feeling I cant express and happiness that I wont ever experience.

Blog Thought For The Wanderers: They Say It Isnt Possible

2006-11-21T19:32:00.000-05:00

Hasan and I were seated across from each other at the Gelato Affair on that warm June Karachi night in the year 2000. He was worried like had never seen him before.

Hasan: "Do you think we can do it?"
I: "Do you have any doubts?"
Hasan: "Its big man and august is barely two months away."
I: "But you know that this is the best time to do it. We can focus all our energies before classes start."
Hasan: "I spoke to BS today, he wasnt sure if it can be done, he was quite skeptical about the whole idea."
I: "BS is a techie professor, if he could do it he wouldnt be where he is."
Hasan: "I spoke with the IBA guys too, they said it was a long shot."
I: "Dude, you know them, they werent supportive of the festival either. We have a good base to build of from."
I took another sip out of my chocolate shake while Hasan toyed with a spoon in front of him.
I: "Whats Ali saying?"
Hasan: "He is in it if we are."
I: "We can rope in Sunny too."
Hasan: "yes"
I: "I am in it to win it man"
Hasan looked straight into his cup of coffee and possibly thought about all the thing in his own Hasan way. He looked back up, with his trade mark grin
Hasan: "Lets do it then"

On August 29, Hasan, Ali, Sunny & I stood at the Karachi Marriott as the organizers of the National IT Expo 2000, the biggest and most diverse IT exhibition to be held thus far (Dawn and Jang hadnt jumped into the picture and the Expo center was barely complete). We had our share of nay sayers and detractors. We were hearing "it isnt possible" from all quarters. It took us a little over two months, unmatched motivation, a few strokes of luck and support from a handful of friends to use Rs.10,000 and hold an event with a budget of around Rs. 700,000.

In the words of Adidas, Impossible is nothing!

Last Weeks Blog Word - Sorry

2006-11-14T14:59:00.000-05:00

its not easy to say or write about being or feeling sorry.

"You Wanna Get High?" - A Tribute To Towlie

2006-11-08T00:23:00.000-05:00

Although I am not a big fan of South Park, I like it in small doses, but Towlie is probably my favorite character in the show.
Heres a tribute to Towlie I found on You Tube.
Cheers to college days!!
Enjoy

A Complete Wanderer

2006-11-05T15:05:00.000-05:00

I am not certain what I can say about this weeks blog word, complete. I am the last person to know what the word complete means. Sometimes I wonder if completion is ever an objectve. Are we meant to be complete? Are our lives, our work, our days or our nights meant to be complete? Would completion not be complacency, which in my view, is death.
I guess completion is probably the motivation to forge ahead in life. We finish short term goals to be complete in the long run. Whats funny is that the if and when we reach that point of total completion, it will be over. That kind of makes more sense when you think of life as a test, all tests are over when they are complete.
Thus I too like many of us run, walk, pace and run again towards finding that ultimate completion. Till I dont, Ill just keep walking and talking and writing such oh so confusing and wasteful posts. The only thing I know about complete, is that I am far away from it, lost and wandering hence, a complete wanderer.

Readings That Leave You Shaken

2006-11-05T04:42:00.001-05:00

I have spent the last week reading two very interesting books. One I paced through, the other I picked up and couldnt let go of till I had finished it. It was the second one that left me shaken, that made me question quite a few things that I would elaborate in the course of this post.
Monday started with me reading through Musharaffs biography on the way to and while come backing from work. It is best to describe "In the line of fire" as a birds eye view of what Musharaff has been able to accomplish since October '99. I do commend him for agreeing to some of his short comings, for instance the referendum. He also openly identifies his role in the way he is shaping the modern Pakistani politics and he is justified with it reasons that at least I am willing to consider, but then again I am known to be a Musharaffist as one friend recently put it. At the same time he paints very broad stroke of some aspects that i wanted more detail on, things like the proceedings of the Agra Summit, the political situation of Karachi etc.
The book serves as a wonderful resume for President Musharaff to justify his continued role in his position, something that I am not opposed to yet something I am slightly wary of. Since with prolonged power comes the opportunities for those powers to be abused. That, as I see it, may lead to his downfall. I am also certain that a number of reflections that he has made about several situations are his own opinions and not necessarily the hard fact. At the same time, some events have been watered down probably in the interest of avoiding a further negative image of Pakistan or for not eluding too much information about an ongoing judicial process. In either case, the book serves two primary purposes and serves these purposes rather well on a macro level. The first one is to paint a more positive picture and a softer image of Pakistan. The second is to create a commendable well balanced resume for Musharaff.
The next book, that I started reading earlier today found a great segway from one chapter of Musharaf's book about war on terrorism. The book is called A Mighty Heart and is an account of the events surrounding the kidnapping and eventual murder of Daniel Pearl (A journalist from The Wall Street Journal) in 2002 in Karachi. Written by his journalist wife Marianne Pearl, the book is now also being converted into a film starring Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt. There arent too many books that I have found captivating enough to read through till I am done with it. Furthermore there hasn’t been any that make me get out of my reading chair, at 4:30AM, pour my self a stiff one and light up a cigar. A Mighty Heart, did all that and more.
I must tell you that I ordered the book with the thought that it would be an account of a victimized westerner who is going on an anti-Pakistan and anti-Karachi rant. Going through the first few chapters I was still skeptical about the whole premise that Marriane seemed to be developing. However, by the time I had finished reading it I could not help but feel miserable about all that Daniel, Marianne, their family and friends had to go through. Added to this was the thought that all this happened in my hometown.
The book is by no means a westerners rant, all those thinking that way can be rest assured that it is not meant to stir up anti-Pakistani emotions. Its the story of a loving journalist couple who end up in Karachi in search of a news item. Its the story of their Indo-American Muslim friend who is trying to be a party of the cities social fabric but is being rejected. Its also the story of a few very dedicated law enforcement officers who despite all odds are giving it their best to recover a foreign guest who is missing in their country. It talks about people the whole of Pakistan and the whole of Karachi is familiar with. It brings out a certain level of truth about Karachi about Pakistan and the complex bureaucracy and corruption that exists here. At the same time, the most heartening aspect of it all is that Marianne Pearls continues to describe Pakistan as a battle ground of the war on terrorism where the soldiers who fight against the menace are less equipped against a much powerful and nimble group of terrorists.
All along the book, ever since Marianne described her husband as missing, I could not help but in my heart tell her that I am sorry it happened in Karachi. The funny part is that I was still there in Karachi when this incident occurred in 2002. I would cross the house where the Pearls were residing, almost on a daily basis, yet never did I know or even care as to what was going down there. It made me question how our nature has developed in the city. I remember everyone reading the Daniel Pearl was missing, but no one I knew give it a second thought that he is a foreigner missing in our own home. Our culture pays significant tribute and respects to guests. The Pearls were guests in Karachi and yet Marianne and her unborn child left Karachi with the worst taste in their mouth. It made me wonder when this would all come to a halt, for how long must we continue to suffer at the hands of terrorists who don a "religious" veil as an excuse to carry out some of the most heinous of crimes the world has seen. I also realized how dead we Karachites have become as a people. Human casualty has become a number to us, the botheration to care about anyone in trouble is followed by the thought of avoiding a messy situation. There arent too many people who are still willing to get their hands dirty for helping some one come out of a messy situation. As inflation, poverty, illiteracy grows, there would be more extremists who would unfortunately follow the path that has been blazed by negative elements like those implicated and absconding in the Pearl Case.
Daniel Pearl wasnt the last fallen foreigner in Karachi, there were quite a bunch before him and a good number after him as well. With this trend common there is no wonder that people from all over the world think twice about vacationing/investing in Pakistan. We have to make this better, the city and the country. However the most disappointing aspect in my opinion, was the fact that government knew about murder at least a week before the arrest of the key witness and yet decided to hold onto that information. Although Marianne never said this, yet it’s quite simple to draw this conclusion from what had been happening.
What I think I should have done a long time ago was to have extended my condolences to the Pearl family and friends. Your husband/brother/son/father has not died in vain, if anything, he has opened the eyes to severe incompetence in the systems. He deserves all the respect and gratitude for all those he helped. Even in his physical absence he is spreading the light of his messages and I hope that region could enlighten from it soon. Lastly, I do offer my deepest and most sincere respect to all those who stood with you in the tragic time. The aspect that leaves me even more remorseful is that you had to experience this all in Karachi and I truly most sincerely, as a Karachite, apologize for that.
Heres to hoping that the film does justice to the book, that no more Daniel Pearls happen any where in the world, that Danny's spirirt rest in peace and Karachi continues to progress and becomes a safe haven for all tourists from all the world.

The Vindictive Nature of PCB

2006-11-03T17:23:00.000-05:00

Yes this post is about the much publicized, much talked about ban on Shoaib Akhtar and Mohammed Asif. From the title of the post, some of you must be amusing that I belong to the camp thats crying foul. Let me clarify that by saying, Yes, I am crying foul but not about the punishment but the nature of the punishment, the inequality in justice and the complete lack of objectivity from the tribunal that passed the judgement.
My friends know me as a big fan of Shoaib Akhtar, and like any fan I am deeply dissapointed by the fact that I wont be seeing much of him, if any at all in the future. His life as a professional cricketer has probaly ended with an exclamation mark. One has to see red flags that these decision were being taken by a supposedly dynamic PCB thats out to change the shape of cricket in Pakistan. We have all seen such tall claims in the past, like those of Tauqir Zia, without much coming out of them.
In the 27 years that I have breathed cricket, there have been two rock stars, Imran Khan and Shoaib Akhtar. The first one bowed out of the game rather gracefully with a world cup under his belt - lets say like a Jimmy Page or more like a Paul McCartney. Shoaib however proved to be a Kurt Cobain, his demise somewhat sucidal and blamed much on drugs and much like Kurt, Shoaib's absence will be felt by all lovers of the game.
Now let me come to my grudges. I am just an inch away from out rightly suggesting that the cricket board goes forth and multiply or something to that order. How ridiculous is this new management. Not only do I find Nasim Ashraf to be extremly pretentious but I also doubt his capability to effectively manage the board. His elevation to the position in the board is probably one of the few areas where Musharaff and I dont see eye to eye (not that he would seek my consent but still).
The board has not taken effective measures to create awareness about the drug use. These are Pakistani cricket players we arent talking about. They arent choosen for their comprehenshon ability. You have to drill these into them, make them understand. Passing out a code book and that too in English (not a commonly spoken language in the team) and then conducting a workshop to all those present is not enough and all this happened during the time of Sheryar Khan, the former head of PCB. You have to indoctrinate these fellows about the damages, both to their abilities and careers, that result from the use of drugs.
Then there is this debate about Nandrolone itself. Reputed athelets from a broad spectrum of sports had tested positive, were suspeneded and later proved their innocence. It is said that currently the IOC is debating wether the level that it has set for Nandrolone are too strict. In cases were athletes were able to clear their name, there was a thorough investigation, research was done and a case was made by experienced professional in their respective areas.
But lets get back to PCB, who decide to pick a half witted former player and coach (Intikhab Alam), a retired Judge and former governor Shahid Hamid and a Dr. Waqar Ahmad for the tribunal. As is the rule in proceedings across the world, the defendants are asked to use a lawyer and if they are unable to do so, the authorities provide them with one (Miranada Rights anyone - all those cop and robber movies that we have seen). The players were however represented by a medical doctor in case of shoaib and a by himself in case of asif.
The verdict was that asif gets a year long ban, because hes is not that literate to understand the complexities of doping law and yet the same board found it adequate for this less than literate player to represent himself. Shoaib got a two year ban. According to Intikhab, he was to be made an exmaple of, why you wonder, not because he took drug supplements alone, but also because he used to drink alcohol and had an active sex life. I knew some of these guy were and no self esteem, but Intikhab Alam has now gone low enough to crawl from under a snake . Nobody informed Shoaib that he was being judged not only on the charges of consumption of controlled substances but also on allegations of breaching the hudood ordinance.
I thought cricket was a game of gentlemen not priests, what the gentlemen does in the confines of his own space is not a concern of anyone else expect those within that space. Either Intikhab is jealous or mis-informed that Nandrolone can be created in a body through comsumption of Alcohol or having an active sex life. In either case, its non of his god dam business to talk about it with the press. For shame Intikhab Alam, for shame!!
And while all this happens we hear a whimper of news come by and probably go un-noticed from PCB about player contracts being revised. Hmmm, who was the player who had the biggest issue with the revision of contract. None other than our Shoaib, who was reported over and over agian for not having agreed to the contract and was probably among last few people to signed on his prior to the teams departure for the champions trophy and surprise surprise, he barely there for a week when shit hits the fan.
All this has convinced me, maybe wrongly maybe rightly, that although the players are at a bit of fault the punishments handed out to them have showed a highly vindictive side of the PCB. My suggestions to both Asif and Shoaib is to challenge the PCBs decision, also Shoaib should take Intikhab Alam to court for publicly talking about his private life without his content in matter that did not pertain to it at all. I hope that my favorite rocker in the Pakistani team would soon be back rocking stadias all over the world, alas I may be extremly wrong.

A Wanderers Miracle

2006-10-25T23:17:00.000-04:00

To find love
in your silence, in the quite noise
that kept reaching my heart
was nothing short of a miracle

looking at you
thinking, hoping, dreaming
was as useless as
waiting for a miracle

wasted were the moments
that I could have used
to say that my love
truly, you are a miracle

but now that you are gone
i think living a life
that i cant share with you
thats the real miracle

DAM YOU MAPLE LEAFS

2006-10-13T09:40:00.000-04:00

Only the Toronto Maple Leafs could come back 1 nothing down, to go up 6-3 and still loose a game in a shoot out!
I think I should stick to cricket.

Somethings That Just Dont Get Out Of Your Head

2006-10-12T23:34:00.000-04:00

I read this poem by Pablo Neruda a short while a ago and its just stuck in my head. I hope he doesnt mind putting it here:

I do not love you... by Pablo Neruda

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how,
or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

that this: where I does not exist, nor you
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

GO IGNATIEFF

2006-10-12T00:35:00.000-04:00

I usually dont comment about Canadian politics. There isnt much happening in the boring world of it. The devilish blue eyed conserative prime minister from Alberta is running the show these days and he basically came to power because the Liberal power, more popular in the East, did not have a solid leader to garner the votes.
Having said that, the Liberal party is involved a leadership race right now with the finale a month away in Montreal. The current leader of this race is Michael Ignatieff, a Toronto native and former alum of the U of Toronto, Oxford and a PhD from Harvard.
Now considering that I only heard of this chap when he won seat to the federal legislature in last elections, I am not completely aware of what his forte is. He did compete in a tough constituency so thats one accomplishment. But what won me over today was his criticism of Israel's bombing of Lebanon. This in result saw his campaign organizer part ways with him. This comes as no surprise. Susan Kadis, another MP from Thornhill, did not agree with Ignatieffs comment that bombing of the Lebanese village of Qana was a war crime. Being a resident of the Thornhill area I realize why a majority of residents would be critical of Ignatieff's remarks and why Susan Kadis, to support her constituency, can not continue to support this man who has been critical of Israel's policy towards its latest adventures in Lebanon.
Thankfully, the pro-Israeli lobby is not as strong in Canada as it is in the US. That is not to say that the can wield influence, but at the same time, there are other lobbies that could to a certain extent pacify pro-Israeli lobby. Whats sad is that I havent heard of another MP coming out against the current PMs support of Israel because his constituency is composed of Muslim or Lebanese folks. Maybe someday, that will happen too. For now, lets take it once step at a time and hope that Ignatieff wins the leadership race next month.

India's Hitler Connection: Subash Chander Bose

2006-10-11T23:04:00.000-04:00

Some had posted this very interesting BBC article on their blog. I forget who it and apologies for not giving that individual the due credit here. It points to a very fascinating aspect, that at least I had never thought of till now. The article talks about the famous political leader of united India, Subhash Chander Bose and his collaboration with Hitler for the purpose of seeking independence from the British Raj.
As the article points out, Hitlers purpose for supporting Bose were at a tangent from Bose's aspirations. It may have been possible that Hitler undermined Bose's capability to influence and instigate a revolution of the magnitude that would shake the foundations of British rule in India. At the same time, I am left wondering that had Bose carried out his plans what would have been the shape of the sub-continent right now.
Would there have been the possibility of government with fascist influences? If so, would the muslims of India have faced the same fate as the Jews of Europre? In case of a South Asian holocaust would the hypothetically subjugated muslims be meted out the same treatment by the west as did the Jews? Unfortunately I feel that the answer to most of these questions would have been negative. Muslims never had the popular backing of the west, if there isnt much response to Muslim genocide in African countries in the world of today, then back in 40s and 50s it may not even have been an issue.
However, the point we must consider is the political inclinations of Netaji a common moniker for Bose in his home state of Orissa and the surrounding areas of Bengal. Us Pakistanis, who have never studied the Indian side of the history may recollect Bose as the man behind the famous line "Give me blood and I will give you freedom". His Indian National Army (INA) is supposedly still active in parts of India. His political approach was exact opposite to Ghandis vision of a non-violent revolution. At the same time, in my brief research over the internet in the past two days did not reveal any aspect of his personality that could be considered fascist. In fact he was more left-winged and anti-imperialist than fascist.
The biggest mystery surrounding Bose was his death. It was said that he died in a plane crash in August 1945 over Taiwan. The account is seriously disputed. One theory that has received some credibility is that Jawahal Lal Nehru along with the British had him exiled at an undisclosed location and eventually executed. This would makes a certain bit of sense as a political gambit that Nehru may have used. He did manage to succeed to power through being a Gandhi supporter as opposed to Bose who was opposed to the Gandhi approach. It is said that in eastern and southern India, Bose commanded immense popularity, and was an evident threat to Nehrus post-partition succession. At the same time the British feared that he would create unrest through violent means which would engage their thinning resources (the after effects of WW2) into an unwanted uprising. Hence it may have made complete sense to rid of Bose.
The truth, if we ever find it out, would take quite a while. In either case, it seems that with demise of Bose, South Asia lost a great political campaigner. He may have been the Che Guevera of India, but now unfortunately makes the list of great mind lost to global politics.

Back To Blog Words: Red

2006-10-11T22:47:00.000-04:00

My Favorite Red

Out of time

2006-10-09T16:12:00.000-04:00

the worst thing is to have a long weekend and some how sqaunder the time away in doing something that somehow took up all the time.
Theres so much I have to say, so much to share and not enough time in the world. I think I will act like the proverbial geek and take my lappie with me while commuting to make up for the last time.

Till Then
Cheerios!

Weekly Blog Thought: Because I Didnt...

2006-10-09T14:01:00.000-04:00

A lot has been said about the anniversary of last years earthquake. I look back on all that I did, all that was done by others and all that could have been done. I read about the contionous plight of the surivors and wonder what else can we do appease their pain. I look at the green wrist band I have been wearing since last year, the one that says "Rebuild Life", and I wonder if that was enough, if more could have been done then, if more can be done now. I wish I could somehow go up to my suffering paisan and tell them they havent been forgotten. I now fear running into a victim of this quake a few year down road and feeling shameful when he looks at me, the look that says that I am a lesser person than he is, because I didnt do all that I could when I should have. I pray I can do more now, before its too late, I pray we all could!

The Cross Hair

2006-10-02T23:54:00.000-04:00

Sometimes its just difficult to reach a conclusion to an argument. Especially amongst friends. I have been involved in one such debate with my friends for over a year now. We decided that the best to resolve the issue was to conduct a world wide survey to reach the answer. Hence, I came up with the cross hair. A blog to help conclude all debates that require feedback from a mass global audience like yourself.

Here is what I would like you to do. Visit The Cross Hair (Users in Pakistan click here) and take the quick survey. The survey is avaibale under the "The Answer" heading. We really appreciate your help in this.

Oh yeah, do spread the word.

Cheers

A Wandering Thought: If I Could I Would ....

2006-10-02T16:12:00.000-04:00

... Spend all my winters in Karachi, all my summers in Toronto, all of autumn in new york, all of spring in europe, be there for all my friends and family all around the world, write and retire at 45 with enough cash to indulge in all the crazy stuff that I couldnt afford to do now!

Pervez Musharaf Meets Jon Stewart

2006-09-26T23:28:00.000-04:00

The Daily Show with Jon Stewart is probably one of the most widely watched political critque show in North America. Jon is a keen observer of US politics, critical of the currentl US policies in Iraq and the middle east and doesnt waste any opportunity to find gaps in what the US government says and does. His astute sense of humor and ability to put his guests on spot made his meeting with Musharaf an interesting encounter.

In a typical Jon Stewart way, he had a surprise that no one was expecting, a pot of jasmine tea - that he got from some Pakistani store - along side a plate of twinkies. He poured a cup for the prez and for himself, and started his discussion with a toast to Musharafs health. Barely had they taken a sip that he came with his controversial question, where is Osama bin Laden.

When I saw Musharaf on Sunday in 60 minutes, I was dissapointed. He appeared to be mellowed down, a man defeated in his endeavours. The soldier in him appeared to be lost in battle or missing in action. But that wasnt the case tonight. He was sharp and on his feet. He had a response to Jon's curve balls. He responded to Jon's Osama question by saying "I dont know, but if you know where he his, lead us to him." The discussion primarily revolved his memoires In The Line of Fire (I am getting it next week hopefully) but the entire references were around Pakistan, the culture, the people, the frontier provinces as well as the treaty with the tribes in Waziristan. Jon couldnt hold his punches back on George W and asked Musharaf if he seems "attentive" in conversation and if he is open to suggestions about Iraq.

Musharaf handed himself very well. He was articulate in his responses and I wouldnt be surprised if he won a few hearts with the show today. The final question that Jon asked, as a part of his seat of heat segment, was that if Osama and George W ran for some governement office in Karachi, who would win. In his true style, Musharaf remarked, they would both loose misreably. The response elicted lauhgs among the audience and the host alike.

From the view of an absolute Pakistani, and some people consider me a pro-establishment right winger, I would not have any else but Musharaf represent us on such a forum. I looked into the list of all the past leaders since General Zia and I couldnt picture anyone creating a decent respectable and moderate image for Pakistan as does Musharaf. I have seen leaders like BB, Nawaz Sharif (goodness imagine that dumbass on any talk show) and others constantly pushing their political objectives. Musharaf recognized the need and the nature of the show, and played along. Yet another reason why, despite some of his shortcomings, I continue to support President Musharaf in quest to improve the global image and domestic situation and economical situation of Pakistan

So Wrong Yet So Right

2006-09-26T16:54:00.000-04:00

I hit my 3 PM brick wall today at well a little after 3 PM. With whole ramzan and roza thing - it was just way to tough to focus on doing work, which I didnt do much of after the said time. However I had to keep my self busy.
Its at times like these when somethings that are so wrong seem so right. Out of the blue I found this game on the internet, and its kept me busy everysince. Enjoy it, rock on and pass it forward.

Impending Ramzan and Other Occasions To Ramble On

2006-09-23T22:19:00.000-04:00

Leaves are falling all around, It's time I was on my way.

Thanks to you, I'm much obliged for such a pleasant stay.

But now it's time for me to go.

The autumn moon lights my way.

For now I smell the rain, and with it pain, and it's headed my way.

Sometimes I grow so tired, but I know I've got one thing I got to do...

Ramble On, And now's the time, the time is now, to sing my song.

I'm goin' 'round the world, I got to find my girl, on my way.

I've been this way ten years to the day, Ramble On

Gotta find the queen of all my dreams.

So ramzan is here. I refuse to call it "ramadan" like so many people do. I dont know why, maybe its an Arabic translation of the word or whatever, but it just doesnt sound right. Like calling wuzu, wudu. Whats with this, irrespective of what others may like calling it, I will stick to my basics, wuzu will be wuzu and so will ramzan.

In respect for the holy month thats upon us, I decided to tone down my weekend activities a notch. For the next month there wont be friday night outings to the madison or saturday night flings at Club 279. No more controlled substances or substances that can result in lack of control. Its probably going to be in-house movie nights or board games at the most, which honestly is quite a bit of fun if you have the right people to enjoy it with. However, tonight, its myself and some classic rock on the sound system. I am listening to, surprise surprise, Led Zepplin and a little while ago they started of with Ramble On. Which is exactly what I decided to do. Just talk, ramble on and update my blog which hasnt really been updated lately besides the weekly blog word.

Ever since I have been in Canada, ramzan is generally accompanied by confusion of when the month actually starts. This year wasnt much of a difference. At my cousins last-day-before-ramzan halwa puri breakfast there was quite a bit of deabte among all those present, none of whom were obviously fasting, about wether today was ramzan or was it tomorrow. There were conflicting reports from all over the place and my mother herself was fasting today. Its a crazy world out there, theres going to be such a conflict on eid as well. I just know it. We cant decide when ramzan is going start how can we expect there to be consensus about other grave issues that the muslim ummah needs to act upon. Lets just face it, unity, consensus and muslims are three words that wont be positively used in a sentence in the foreseeable future. Even in Pakistan, NWFP would occasionaly celebrate the ramzan and hence eid a day earlier then the rest of the country. It became a running joke there, be lets be honest here, if man can devise a way to actually land on the moon, then it should be effortless to spot it and determine the month according to the lunar calendar. But what logic percieves as effortless isnt quite that effortless in reality, or so it seems.

I guess our parents know us the best after all since I got reminders from my mother and all those at the breakfast mentioned being reminded by their respective parents about fasting during ramzan. One of the friend got the funniest text message from his father. Well we found it hillarious maybe because we know the fellow, but at the same time, his father told him ramzan shoro ho gaya hai, kotahi nahi honi chayay. The mere articulation of that message was rib ticklingly hillarious. If he his reading this, then I apologize for using the anecdote but it was funny none the less. You know it mate.

Ramzan always makes me feel nostalgic for Karachi. The ramzan spirit in Karachi was amazing. Things were different. People were different. I was talking to a friend the other day who was talking about all the concerns with traffic congestion and making it from work to home in time etc, but isnt that all a part of what one may refer to as the ramzan spirit. I would remember one of my very religious drivers who would stop in the middle of the road in ramzan to offer his prayers. It still beats me why, why is it admissible to delay prayers by a short while in other months and not in ramzan. But then I myself am toning down my routine for Ramzan so I am no one to point fingers.

The ramzan spirit, as I may have just coined it, allows people to pull of quite a few things that may not be normal otherwise. Excessive speeding around iftar time is one of them. Cursing at the samosa wala to speed it up is another. Carrying dates in the pocket or the cars dash is quite normal for people who are on the move a lot. Also making it to all the ramzan buffet place roughly an hour before iftar is quite normal as well. You can even spot long line ups at places like Village or Lal Qilla or even Pizza Hut. Bar B Q tonight is packed as always and iftar parties become a rage. In true Karachi style, there are quite a few individual who measure their social status by all the iftar parties they are invited to. I am not sure how many of them actually fast, but yet they do make an "appearance" at the iftar parties. Considering that working days and spirits are much shorter than in regular days, ramzan is almost like a mini vacation.

Unfortunately, we in North America dont quite enjoy ramzan to that same level. Fasting is the only difference in our routine and maybe things like praying regularly and reading the Quran also in some cases. The gym usually falls out of the picture but lets be honest, its suicide to go work out after not eating anything during the day. This in some way feels like what Ramzan was intended to be like, not the way it is Pakistan or the middle east.

So aside from Ramzan, I am eagerly anticipating Musharaf's appearance on the Daily Show with Jon Stewart. For all those who arent aware of it, the prez would be making an appearance on the polictical satire, to promote his autobiography, In The Line of Fire. I will definitely be getting a copy of the memoir, but the wit of Jon Stewart and Musharafs candour would be worth watching. The opinion of Pakistan and to some extent prez Musharaf can be gathered from this clip from the show. Furthermore, on his recent trip the prez has come under fire for comments about Richard Armitages' threats to Pakistan post 9/11 as well as Afghan Presidents accusations that Pakistan continues to support the Taliban. That added to the fact, that Musharaf is probably the first person of his position from the islamic world to make an appearance on the show makes for an interesting encounter. The show is schedule to air on Sept 26 11:00 PM EST on the Comedy Channel in Canada. Dont miss it.

So now having just gone on and on nothing of much significance, I will now go and watch something that goes on and on in a much similar manner, Saturday Night Live. Although I must say its a lot more enjoyable than reading a blog. So with best wishes for ramzan party on, as much as one in this month.

Words for the Wanderers Word

2006-09-23T19:47:00.000-04:00

Part 1

So yet another installment of the weekly word. Somehow, it feels like a weekly ritual that if not performed, would cast a dark black cloud on my thoughts, my imaginative capabilities and my expression. Ah but how it could it be so, after all its a mere word and whats a word without an action, a combination of characters that conjures up an image in any ones mind. An image that maybe dark to some bright to others, an image of gore an image of beauty, an image that we wish to create of what we transalte those set of characters to really reflect. But all our translations are based on our experiences, our understanding, our context. The words I say are powerful in my world, the words I say can stir up a storm in my world, the words I say can break barriers that define the limits of my world. And it is the farewell from these barriers that allow you to peek inside what I have refered to as my world. Its the power of these words, the weight of the characters that allows for thoughts to flow and ideas to intermingle. When I read your words I understand your world and make sense of it and if you have decided to read these words so far, you may have gathered an idea of what my world is usually about. If you are thinking "a lot of talk leading to no particular conclusion" then you arent really off base.

Part 2

And there arent too many words out there that pin down the misery of our lives as accurately as these; from one of my all time favorite movies, Fight Club:

... an entire generation pumping gas.

Waiting tables.

Slaves with white collars.

Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes.

Working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need.

We're the middle children of history.

No purpose or place.

We have no Great War. No Great Depression.

Our great war is a spiritual war.

Our great depression is our lives.

We've all been raised on television to believe that one day

we'd be millionaires and movie gods and rock stars.

But we won't.

We're slowly learning that fact.

And we're very, very pissed off.

Another Wandering Word: Truth

2006-09-15T00:40:00.000-04:00

So no one told you life was gonna be this way

Your job's a joke, you're broke, your love life's D.O.A.

It's like you're always stuck in second gear

When it hasn't been your day, your week, your month, or even your year...

The Rembrandts

Some times, the simplest truth about life could be a sitcom theme song away.

Weekly Blog Word: Decisions

2006-09-11T10:55:00.000-04:00

A little over five years ago, some one, some where took a decision to take down WTC.
In the modern history, that is one decision that changed the lives of millions of people across the world.
Lets hope that people making such decisions are killed before they execute their heinous designs.

END! Blog Word of The Day

2006-08-31T22:27:00.000-04:00

2006-08-29T18:19:00.000-04:00

It seems that one of the side effects of fever is the foot in mouth disease. Earlier this morning, after suffering from varying degrees of fever, I decided to visit the doctor. By the grace of God, I dont fall sick too often. So I dont really have a fixed doctor to go to, in fact I havent been to a Doctors in at least two years. So I ended up at the nearest walk-in clininc that I could find.
The lady the reception registered me and I waited. The door to the doctors office opened and I saw the face of an angel.
Yes, Dr.Goldstein was a young beautiful doctor and when she called my name it sounded like heavens summoned me. I was caught up in her looks and her pregnant glow. Yes, she was on the family way as well. But that glow just left me spell bound. Like we used to watch cartoons that would float with the waves to find the food, I floated my way to her office on the seat across from her. And so she asked "How are you doing?" and in my state of spell-bindedness the only response my mind came up with was "I am doing well. How are you?". Dr.Goldstein laughed and asked what I was doing there if I was well. And then it hit me, I stepped out of the trance, albeit quite embarassed and explained what was bothering me. She did a check up and told me all was well. But if you ever read this Dr.Goldstein, it were your wonderful eyes and your face that can put any man in trance, that made all things better for me.

This Whole Thing About The Bugtis of Balochistan

2006-08-27T20:56:00.000-04:00

If you are a Pakistani or an Indian who is exposed to propaganda machine called media or even someone who just takes interest Pakistani or South Asian politics, you would have seen the news that a certain Nawab Akbar Bugti was killed yesterday. The government called him a rebel a title that obviously does not please his supporters like the handful of agitated Balochis who ran amok in Queeta or the Indian media and security agencies who used Bugti time and again for create unrest around the Pakistans most critical energy reserves.
So who was Akbar Bugti and why did his end come in such a horrid fashion. To begin with, I am saddened by the fact a human life was lost in an unpleasing fashion but this however is no reflection of my feelings towards his exit from the political fray of things. As you might notice on his Wiki site, he belonged to a family of the ruling elite of the Indian Sub-continent and later Pakistan. He basically inherited his status of a so called political leader and more or less aptly labled by the government as a rebel leader. His great-grandfather, was an ally of the English prior to the 1947 partition and the whole family came to significant lime light when natural gas resources were discovered in their "tribal area" which pretty much remains under the control of Nawab Bugti and his band of trigger happy men.
His end was a long time coming. In Urdu there is a saying that latoon kay bhoot batoon say nahi mantay, which can be translated to the tune of some people just wont learn without physical punishment. Akbar Bugti, under the guise of a protector of Baloch rights butted his head with several governments before. There were times in the 70s when he was bombed by the air force. Then to control him he was put in power of the province as well. Yet he continued to be a pain in the governments already painful behind. And so it goes that Musharraf drew the line and decided that it was time to get rid of this malignancy developing in a region of increasing importance for Pakistan as well as South and Central Asia.
So what he did do? Well his demand was to seek royalties for the gas being pumped from his fields and going to the entire nation. Which is a fair demand. As long as the moeny earned in return goes to the people who deserve it, those who love on their land and not their sardar. Who is actually the feudals who more or less "owns" the people of his tribe. He is the king and his word is the final word. This in a soverign country is not acceptable. Now you may argue that fedulaism is at the root of the weed thats keeping the country from progressing so why only him. Well the answer is simple, other feudals have managed to work without calling for rebellion for their personal interests. They havent been working at the behest of other nations to challenge the national security situation. And so, they get away with it, hopefully not for long.
So who is the "foreign hand" in this equation. Primarily India, but as one goes on to think may not neccesarily have been the case this time around. There are basically two schools of thought on this situation. One that looks as historical events and recent developments and points at India and the other that points at some vested interests of some Arab states. Lets deal with India first.
I just remain astounded by the fact that a country as progressive as India recognizes the destabilisation of its neighbour as key aspect of the foreign policy that goes around in the secretive strategic circles of that nation. They are enourmouse, much more huge than Pakistan. They are economically a lot more stable. But yet, they continue to counter the Kashmir situation with creating insurgencies within Pakistan. Their first and foremost was the Balochistan province which is known for its mineral reserves. Think of it this way, it comes very close to being the Texas of Pakistan. India starting supporting the insurgencies by covertly funding, Bugtis "Liberation Army". Weapons were purchased people were harrased and killed, key infrastructure were threatened and the situation came to the level that Prime Minister Bhutto (the senior)had to order bombing of Dera Bugti in the 70s. Gen. Zia, succeding Bhutto, tried to calm things down by putting Bugti in official posts. That was when India started funding the "Mohajir" insurgency in Karachi. Eventually, that insurgency was brought under control by similar brutality by the governments, ironically it was the Jr. Bhuttoo who had to face the music this time.
With Bugti out of the present governments favor and Indias continous strategic drive to support insurgencies in Pakistan, the Bugti found a new more resourceful financier in his ill concieved plans. There were some skeptics who suggested that the IPI pipeline project would require that India withdraw its support of the Bugtis so that the region could be stablized for the project to go through. However, we all know the US does not support Iran and the sweetend the Indian energy pie with a significant nuclear energy deal which put IPI on a back burner. Hence the Indians continued their shenanigans in the Balochistan area causing the serverly restrained security resources of the country to be further burdened. That is what some may suggest to be an Indian hand theory.
So what about the Arabs. Why would our muslim "brethren" think of destablising our nation. The answer is economic interests. At this point of time, the Gawadar port project is somewhat behind schedule already. See the great vision for Gawadar was to be the new Dubai, at least logistically speaking. Pakistan is located at a very geographical location in a very interesting shape. We are a passage way. A passage way to China, a passage way to cenrtal Asia. The western chinese border and a good number of central asian states are either land locked or do not have access to a major ocean. At the moment, what ever trade that these regions indulge with the Atlantic side of the western is, happens through Dubai. It has by far the strongest sea faring logistcal set up to support the international demands. Gawadar, had it started operating on time, would have been a direct threat to Arab port. Hence the consipiracy theory that the Bugtis were being financed were Arabs.
In either case the Bugtis were seeking financing from external source which harboured malicious intent for the nation that they were a part of. It is but a simple of principal of gurellia warfare that has been seen in use time and again in some shape or form since the begining of history. If that was the case, then the government had the right to eradicate any threat to internal security and infrastructures of national importance.
As always, there have been protests. There were protests when Castro attempted his first revolution of Cuba and failed. There were protests when Shoko Ashara was arrested for gassing the Tokoyo subway. And so there have been and will be protests in light of this development as will. However, it is high time that the Baloch, the Sindhi, the Punjabi and the Pashtuns all develop a nationalist sentiment and realize they are an amalgamation identities on common grounds of religion. It is religious and thus social harmony that should bind us together in making out nation a strong prosperous nation that it deserves to be. Lets keep our dirty linen within the confines of our border and be cautious of all those international interests that intend to malign are social integrity.
People are using this opportunity to once cry fowl against the Musharaf government. But whatever the case maybe, he did set a strong example for anyone who bore such rebellious intentions. If you have to rebel, rebel against the extremisim, rebel against illitreacy, rebel against all the social ills that are plauging our communal fabric. Dont rebel against the nation, because if push comes to shove, the people who stand gaurd for the nations security, will definitely shove you out of existence.

You Know You Are Not At Home When

2006-08-27T20:36:00.000-04:00

You have to get up and do the laundry and pay a buck-fifty for it as well, all this while running a fever!

Homeland Hangover

2006-08-23T09:07:00.000-04:00

Its a common occurence. An evening of indulgence, mixing of several brews and liquors, followed by a morning of severe head and in some cases body aches as well. A dry throat, limbs that resist motion, eyes that arent party to opening in short a body thats facing retardation. This is a physical hangover. I recently came across an emotional version of the same phenomenon.
It took me three years to become used to Canada and start enjoying life here and it took one 20 day trip to Pakistan undo all that. I miss Karachi aggresively. Its in my thoughts and whatever I do and whatever I see is compared to Karachi. The food and its relative lack of taste, the house and the significantly dirty room mate, the job, the comfort, the feeling of being home, everything.
And this, this whole thing about constantly reminiscing the good times become an impediment it gets in the way of a leading a normal life, it gets in the way of being able to do work, it gets in the way of organizing life and moving on. This is what makes it a hangover. Sadly, asprin and coffee wont take care of this hang over - I got to live it through, drag my feet through it and then possibly one day, I will wake up fresh and ready to take on Toronto once again.

Inspire for the Wanderers

2006-08-23T08:56:00.000-04:00

I have said it before Ill say it again - Karachi is my muse - and every time I step away from Karachi it takes a very long time to find inspiration again.

A life without Karachi is a life without Inspiration!

The Son and his Soil

2006-08-19T01:26:00.000-04:00

I am currently sitting in a place where I am somewhat out of element. The thought that I paid money from my own pocket to be here makes it even more uncomfortable. But the comfy cushy chair that I am sitting on, the manhogany wooden table thats my workstation, the filipino attendant who smiles every time I ask for a drink makes it a little more comfortable. It is Saturday the 19th of August, I was supposed to be in Toronto today however, nature had other plans since it poured in record amounts all over the city of Karachi, paralysing the city and immobilizing any movement along the major traffic arteries. Long story short I missed my flight. But whats that got to do with me being in the place I am ? Well read on my friend, since today I have some more time than usual to write and it seems I have caught your interest as well.

Let me start by describing what had been a bit of rift, a tussle, a fight for rights between a son and his soil. Karachi and I met up after 3 years in end July. It was like a mother meeting an angered son who had returned home after learning some golden lessons in life, probably something on the lines of the "subha ka bhulla" philosophy in Urdu. She, it seemed had been angered a bit as to how the son estranged her but was still rather happy to have him back. She didnt complain and embraced the son whole heartedly, the breeze was just to his liking. The days were mixed with the right amount of sunshine and clouds. She kept bringing people around that the son would have enjoyed meeting, she kept creating opportunities for her sons entertainments and new found indulgences. She was trying very hard it seems to keep him back. But the son had plans of his owns. He was now a bit of adventurer, a bit independent, with a taste of freedom and as much as he loved the soil, he wasnt so far convinced about returning to it for good. And thats when it seems that the soil, the city, the country that I had occasionaly refered to as mother collaborated with another mother, nature, to delay the my departure.

All analogies and freaky writing aside, the rain was the worst thing to have hit Karachi. I have never seen things so bad and watching the city detiriorate and suffer was the worst feeling. That added to the fact that I was wading through atleast a feet of rain water mixed with sewage and other liquids that I really dont want to know about, while looking for a cab to make it to the airport annoyed me to no extent. Emirates said their flights were on time, Geo said that the city was facing the worst traffic jam ever, Radio Cab said they werent in service till next afternoon, Aaj said that people were getting electrocuted, AK said that I cant make it, Sab said that I should relax, Naj said that I should keep trying for alternate flights through the night, Adnan said that he was stuck forever at Schon circle, my mom said that I should call a cousin who has a jeep and while everyone said all this stuff, I kept looking at the clock and kept dropping the F-Bomb with every passing minute. It moved from 6 to 7 to 8 thats when I went looking for a cab or finding a cop whom I could bribe into using his car to drop me- no such luck. 9PM and I am sulking now. I started hating the city I loved, the soil that mothered me to quite an extent. I started hating it like theres no tomorrow. 10PM AK walks in, his clothes covered in water, his car - a survivor of yet another brutal monsoon, his face a smile from ear to ear brimming with stories about the evening. I wasnt thrilled, it was evident, written all over my face. I kept quite for a while and then I snapped.
All the shit that had been accumulating in my head about the city came out, in epic proportions. From blaming its residents for choosing incapable useless mayors to blaming the federal government for putting the countrys biggest city in such a position. And so the day ended. Me annoyed, hungry and pissed at the arm twisting tactics of mother nature. The city logged with water over twenty dead. An emirates airline flight 603 that went to dubai with one less passenger.
I woke up from what some would call sleep and what I would call, a brief passover into another state to recharge the body enough to function the next day. In my view, my eyes were closed, my brain wasnt functioning and my body was unwinding from the physiological stress that it had been through a short while ago. I woke from that state bright and early. I started calling Emirates, I started calling my travel agents. I started getting scarier news with every call. "No Dubai-London flight is available till the end of the month" said the Emirates folks. "Cant do anything for another 2 to 4 days" said the travel agent. "All flights till the end of the month are fully booked" said PIA and Etihad who go straight to Toronto. I suddenly saw my life crumbling down in front of my own eyes. Loosing my job, not being let into canada, not having enough money to pay my dues, become a hobo and finding myself with a bottle of malt liquor lying in a box outside a salvation army office. Life suddenly lost all meaning and pleasure. I called my partner in crime, my disciple of windsor, the robin to this batman, the one and only Adnan Haroon who took it upon himself to make sure that I get a ticket by 1PM.
In the meantime, AK got the ball rolling on his end aswell. He could sense the gravity of the situation and started approaching his contacts in the business of travel. Naj kept calling to find out what the latest was and kept providing much needed moral support. At 1230 PM I got a call from Faizan at the travel agency. He had a proposition, an offer, the kind I couldnt refuse. He said he has a ticket available that left within 24 hours. Emirates. Karachi-Dubai-London-Toronto. He could issue it by 3PM. Is this real I thought to myself and as though he had heard my thoughts, Faizan presented the pincher the in this proposition. I would have to take the Dubai-London route in business class, that would mean upgrading my ticket and paying 25,000 rupees for the upgrade. I had no option and I agreed.
You must be going - WTF Mate - 25K - holy crap - ah well but your misery might be over so its almost worth it. Ah but its me we are talking about, Mr Last Minute Man. If I were Catholic Id be a Murphy, since all that can go wrong does go wrong with me. Like the line of thought that I had assumed a smart reader of this post would come across, I agreed to the 25K deal. I asked AK to take me to main Citibank branch so that I could use my debit card to get the cash out (the canadian cards only work in those machines for some reason). But as luck would have it. The machines were out cloud. Frigging Rain. I went to the consumer banking division hoping they could help, but it was friday, they leave at 12:30. Once again A Haroon came to the resuce with a cheque for 25K that I used to get the ticket at 5PM PST.
There were still talks through out that duration about predicitions of rain. Naj advised that I should go to her place which, relative to where I was living, is a stones throw to the airport. I took her up on that and after an almost teary eyed farewell hug with AK, Robin aka Edward aka Adnan drove me to Naj's residence at almost 11 at night. The rest of the night was spent in a lovely conversation with Naj's hubby Nabeel and Naj herself. At the end of it, I once again realized why I always looked upto her as my bestest bud you rock girl!
So alls hunky dory, things are going well, I think I have started seeing the silverlining on this dark cloud, even though it cost me 25K but still it seemed it was there or so I thought. At the Emirates counter at Jinnah terminal, the gentlemen checking me in told me that I was overweight. No not my own weight, I know I myself am overweight, but he was referring to my luggage. So I had to indulge in a quick commando action to spread the weight between my two suticases and my hand carry. I was eventually still overweight, and ended up paying another 4000 to the emirates folk. Total additional billing is 29,000 for the day. OUCH!
So if you are still guessing where I am. I made it to dubai - no problems at all thank god for that. I looked around the DFS with a maxed out credit card and 29US $ as well as a little over a 100 Pak Rupees. Then I walked around looking for the internet and thats when I saw, the Emirates business class lounge. Got to get a return on those 25K right. So I ended up here. Free food, buffet (it was breakfast when I got here) free internet, amazingly comfortable chair, clean and lovely bathrooms, free news papers from around the world a few good looking and charming ladies to add a bit of spice to the whole thing. The only other time I travelled in Business Class was in Pakistan on Karachi to Lahore, so such Pampering is alien to me and I am going to enjoy every ounce of it till I am here.
So what of the story about the City fighting with her son. Well the son lost it on the city, called it the worst names, suggested that everybody in their right minds should alienate her for such an attitude. All this while the city listened, with a bit of pain I am sure. The son was still mad for a good part of the next day. But as things slowly started to fall in place, he realized how helplessness had cause him to lash out in anger. He went to meet the city, saw a good number of things he loved about her. Saw how robust and rugged she was in the face of all the wrong things and realized, that it is she that he truly loves, it is this soil who's son he can truly claim to be. In the mean time the city also realized the sons need to explore and seek adventure and thus they resolved there differences and parted on a merry note. The son promised to try and return more frequently and the city hoped she could keep progressing and developing to make the son proud wherever he maybe. The lost song the son heard was mujhay yaad aya meray watan tu yaad aya and with much fond memories of bitter sweet moments they bid each other adieu.

Free - Blogword For The Week!

2006-08-16T09:06:00.000-04:00

The first time I felt I was free my mother put a diaper on me. The next time I felt I was free the teacher sent a note to my mom calling me a cheater (god forbid if that should happen). Another time I felt free the girl pushed me back and screamed at me for kissing her. The next time I felt free I got a boss who constantly told me what to do. There was another moment of freedom which ended with her asking what I thought about marriage and where the relationship was heading. And the last time I felt free I was at a friends wedding and I saw him sitting next to his wife smiling a smile that would last as long as the crease on his suit. Thats when I realized, freedom is relative, it changes its shape and form and hence the rules that determine it. So maybe I should look up that girl and see if her current definition of freedom would allow for that kiss to go through without the the kicking and screaming ;)

Last Day in Karachi

2006-08-16T08:28:00.000-04:00

I should have written this post on Sunday but thanks to all thats been happening in London and the travel agents in Karachi whom one cant really trust for a solid advice, I ended up delaying my trip for few days. I leave tomorrow back to Canada for an indefinite period of time, who knows when I come to Karachi next. The classic line came from Jammie who responded to my SMS about the delay in departing with "shes a keeper". Cheers to that and to all the good things the city has kept.
I think its a bit premature for me to be penning or typing my thoguhts down about the trip since I am still enroute to the conclusion of it. I would like to snuggle in my armchair in Toronto and reminesce over the past three weeks before categorically spewing out all that I loved and loathed about the city I call home.
At the same time I would like to thank all those of you who took time out to take me around for shopping lunches, dinners and breakfasts. Most of all the Two Ks, Kabeer and Kiran and their family and their dhaishatgard of a son who kept the dullest moments alive. I hope I can reciprocate the hospitality when you folks visit Toronto.
The saddest part of the trip was the the fact that I lost my camera, ah what Irony. I make it back home after 3 years and loose my camera. Theres no real pictorial proof that I was here. How sad is that.
Anyhew, to all Karachi friends, old and new, single and married, parents and pregnant, its been a pleasure. I will undoubtedly miss the great times that were had over the past few weeks and would look forward to more merry moments in the days to come.

Much Belated Blog Word: Rain

2006-08-06T05:11:00.000-04:00

Almost in time for the next one. Ah well I am on vacation so I assumed I could be a bit tardy.

Rain - it cant be just a shower
Rain - its got to have some power
Rain - dark clouds, cool breeze and the smell of soaked sand
Rain - comes out of nowhere, spontaneous, unplanned

Rain - it brings smiles to many faces
Rain - it brings joy to many places
Rain - Its blamed for choked traffic and absent power
Rain - it treats all the same, Defence, Gulshan or Mereweather tower

Rain - you got to love it, its natures big surprise
Rain - you got to revel it, with samosas,pakoras, all things fried
Rain - for it cant come too late or too soon
Rain - so lets sit back and enjoy the Karachi Monsoon

Soaking In Karachi

2006-08-01T06:20:00.000-04:00

Almost a week into my trip - I lost my camera somehow so sadly no pictures - but there are some random observations. Enjoy!

Its been about absorption ever since I landed in Karachi on the 26th this month. Absorbing the new layout of roads, absorbing the humidity and heat (of which there hasn’t been much so far), absorbing the bacteria in the city air, absorbing the elaborate sequence of dances at weddings, absorbing the fact that friends are now, parents, spouses and fiancés, basically just absorbing what Karachi is all about.

Things have changed, both for the good and the bad. It is difficult for me, at least right now, to give in an overall opinion of where things are heading. There is a slightly positive and hopeful attitude among people but this again is the opinion of the people I have spoken to. It may not necessarily represent the opinion of the masses. None the less there is lots of construction taking place. Roads, bridges, underpasses and that is always a good sign.

The purchasing power for the rupee has gone down significantly. Just last night, I spent 85 rupees to buy a small bottle of water and a big bar of Cadbury’s dairy milk chocolate However the consolation was that it’s a mere buck and a half in dollar terms. This does make me think about the Pakistanis who don’t earn in dollars, could they not occasionally spoil themselves by indulging in a luxury like chocolates.

Shockingly enough, as the prices have risen so has the level of consumerism. The concept of branding is being implemented across the board in all possible interpretations of the idea. Everybody is a marketer here. Engineers, Doctors, dentists, gardeners, cab drivers, they all “know what they are talking about” when they talk consumerism. Sadly, I am may not always be an ally to their opinion. Also embracing growth is the media industry, which has what some called boomed and what I would call bubbled, over the past few years. The number of radio and TV channels has multiplied in a very short span of time and the direct result of this expansion is an industry wide extrapolation of the law of crappy people. If someone is not a marketer there is a good likelihood that they maybe a producer, writer, director, of a segment on the plethora of channels that vie for a share of consumer viewing along with a huge number of international, primarily Indian, TV Channels. The quality of the content in such an environment is not surprisingly poor however, the availability of such channels suggests that aspirants wishing to develop high quality content would have an avenue to do so. If I were an investor Id wait a while before investing in the media here. I foresee that in a year or two, the bubble would burst, the underperforming stations would go under and there would be significant consolidation in the industry, with bigger players buying smaller stations and maybe even boutique channels coming into play. That maybe the time when the focus actually shifts from the channel to the product and in this case content alone.

Among other things that I have had to come to terms with is the fact that my good friends are now parents. Its one thing to hear about the children or see their pictures and a completely different ball game to watch the little critters in action. They are a bundle of joy to say the least. Leading the cast of the brat pack in my circle of friends are Najla’s Affiyah and Kabeer and Kiran’s Basim. They are just a super duper pack of energy, who go around frolicking in their care free lives like there is no tomorrow. What beautiful little things they are.

Aside from meeting a handful of old friends over the past few days, I have also ran into in some new people I had never met before, and would probably not have met had I been living in Karachi. These are the faces of a newer Karachi. People coming from all corners of the city and country and dwelling in the safer, better managed areas in the southern part of the city. They socialize with new people all the time, they drop names like there is no tomorrow, they supposedly rub shoulders with the who is who of city. They recreate and they procreate amongst themselves. They are gay, they are straight, they are sweet on the face and would stab someone in the back. They kiss each other every time they see each other and they talk as though life is an episode out of sex and the city. The level of plasticity in their life is beyond belief. Yet another shade of this ever growing city.

And in the past 2 days I have been experiencing the monsoon. That exclusive rainy season that graces this part of the world at this time of the year. Sheets of rain pouring down with unbelievable strength virtually without a break at all. Aside from the usual corners and ravines that would gather water in this season, the rest of the city or at least the locality that I am living in, has stayed much the same. This is a far cry from the Karachi of the yesteryears where a pour would imply roads clogged with water, immense traffic jams and a huge number of stalled cars. One thing that hasn’t changed about the season is the power outage. When rain comes, the power goes, but the coolness of the weather doesn’t make it unbearable. Update between the time I wrote this and uploaded it there has been additional rain and a good part of the city is water logged. The newly built Clifton underpass is being termed as the biggest swimming pool in the city.

Finally, so far, I haven’t fallen sick in Karachi (touch wood). I am only cautious about drinking water, but other than that I have freely indulged in consuming all the gastronomic delights that I have been offered. Halwa puri, Kebabs, Chicken Makhni, biryani, qorma falooda etc etc etc.

So I am of now, to enjoy the downpour a bit more. All this while Kiran tries to keep her one year old indoor, out of the rain. She seems to have control of the situation. Its unbelievable that a mere few years ago Kiran was one of the girls privy to all our naughty antics and pranks that we played in the college days. Karachi, its people, my friends, have evolved rapidly while I was away and like a sponge in a basin of full water, I am overwhelmed and bloated by the level of change that has come about. I missed some changes, but I am loving being here to see some more things in the process of change. Heres to Karachi, may you always change for the better and become the best.

In Transit

2006-08-01T06:16:00.000-04:00

I wrote the post below while sitting at the Abu Dhabi airport waiting for my flight to Karachi.

I am currently sitting in the waiting lounge between gate 21 and 22 at Nadia International Air Port in Abu Dhabi. The temperature here is 32 degrees and its not like the Toronto 32 where the night cools down or Karachi 32 where the sea breeze would temper down the evenings. As I stepped out of the aircraft at terminal that didn’t have Jetway facilities I was welcomed by the hot desert air. At first I thought it cant be that hot, its probably just the engines, but I realized in a short bit that that was not the case.

If I were to give an award for the cheapest, tacky and ill equipped airport that I have been to, Abu Dhabi would be it. National flag carrier did not have access to jetway facilities, the security staff can barely communicate in any language other than Arabic. I asked one of them a question about the location of the gates and got a “yes, yes” in response. The maintenance staff is primarily south asian, Pakistani, Indian, Bengalis, and all of them are familiar with Urdu/Hindi so that’s a bit of relief.

Another sign that I am currently in Asia was the lack of civic respect that other travelers had towards the folks waiting in the lounge. There were several individuals smoking away under a no-smoking sign. When requested, they said “this the last one.” The attendants weren’t too bothered either, they walked passed these smokers without giving it a second thought. A norm for them I am sure.

The funny thing is that no one seems to paying attention to the PA systems. There are regular announcements about reporting to gates but people only move when an airline representative comes in the waiting area and shouts “anyone traveling to (put destination here)” He shouts a few times, gathers the bunch that he can and like a cowboy managing his herd, leads these passengers to the relevant gate.

At the moment, the terminal is full of Pathans, I have nothing against them except their stare which is rather disconcerting. To add to that, I am wearing shorts, I guess they like to watch bare legs on anything that walks up right. Me, the stewardesses, maybe an ape even if it passes by here. I have walked to gay neighborhoods of Toronto, Montreal and New York but have felt such piercing stares (Ryan, I can feel the pain of your Pizza Panzerotto experience).

And another feature exclusive to our part of the world, the physical expression of male bonding. Men walking around holding hands of other men, others holding each other by their wastes. Throw in a few dykes and fancy floats and we can have a pride parade UAE style.

My flight will start boarding in another 45 minutes. I would then be heading home after 3 years. There are 3 people in my hometown who are aware that I am coming, the rest would be get a surprise, hopefully a pleasant one, when I call on them. The thought of that, the anticipation of the responses and mostly being in Karachi with childhood buddies make all this worth it. And to be honest, its not bad, but rather a very amusing experience. Cant wait to breather the Karachi air, and maybe cough afterwards, but still breathe on.

Blog Word For The Week: Believe

2006-07-27T09:21:00.000-04:00

If you believe in something with passion you get it. Thats what I have heard people say a million time.
I have spent a good part of this year believing that I would make to Karachi for Koko's wedding. And I write this on the day of her Mehndi, sitting in my friends house, enjoying the Karachi breeze.

So I believed I could make it here, and I believed in that idea with unmatched passion. Hence, I am here :D

High on a Feeling

2006-07-24T17:34:00.000-04:00

Havent had this much of an adrenalin rush in a long time! I got butterflies in my stomach and a smile on my face for no apparent reason, it could only mean one thing …[EDIT] it could only mean that I am heading to Karachi !! WOOO HOOO!

Overcast Overbearing

2006-07-22T20:27:00.000-04:00

I had the pleasure of having my mother and grand mother at my place for the month or so. My mother left a few weeks ago due to professional commitments, but it was fabulous to have my grandmother still around. Over this month and especially the time I spent with my grand mom I once again realized the privilege and the blessing of having the elderly in our house.To begin with, great things have happened since she’s been around. When ever I do the slightest thing for her she showers me with duas and it seems God listens to each and everything she prays for her, since a number of things that were stuck in the middle of no where started going my way. It was the first time since I moved in this apartment that someone prayed five times a day and recited the Quran on a regular basis. Things that I sadly don’t indulge in as often as I should. It was her presence, her stories from her youth, or her relationship with my grandfather or some story about someone that left me gaping that made every single minute of her stay thoroughly enjoyable.

Today, as the Toronto sky bears no resemblance to the tones of summer that it had been advertising over the past few weeks, I feel sad to be having the last dinner with my lovely granny for some time come. I call her ami because shes always treated me like her son, rushing me to the hospital when I would hurt myself as a child or picking me up from school when Id call her up saying I dont want to ride the school bus that day. She spoiled me and disciplined me, she let me loose and when needed restrained me. Some of my friends still remember her zipping through the streets of Karachi in her hey days. Now, in her own words, the only thing she can do for us is pray and do I need someone like that or what. I wish I can take more care of her, I wish I can achieve further financial progress to be able to look after her and have her blessings for days come. Rest assured, her absence in my apartment would be felt for days to come. And with the way the sky has been pouring today and the overcast predictions for Tomorrow, the city is not too pleased with her departure either. The skies are my partners in bidding ami adieu with a heavy heart. Boys dont cry but the skies can pour and pour they do with my emotions.

Adding further misery to this overbearing overcast is the fact that I shouldn’t have been in Toronto today. My dear friend Koko gets married next weekend in Karachi. I was all set to leave T Dot on Friday and would probably have been in Karachi by now. However reality is telling us a different story as I sit Toronto writing this post while my friends are certainly reveling in a dholki thrown in Kokos honour. Alas we all handle the cards we are dealt right, and I am handling mine. Cheers to all the mates rocking at the wedding and pre-wedding parties.

So that eventually sums up this weekend, which after moms departure is probably the saddest this summer. What made up for mums departure were the parties that ensued after she left, the Molson Indy, the Italian world cup wins, they worked like an ointment but that might not be the case this time. Ill spend tomorrow missing ami a lot and then hear stories of the ongoing wedding and sulk a bit further. Sad times on this planet I tell you.But heres the thing, I have a feeling that the next time I blog, I will have good stories to tell, stories of joy and happiness of fond memories and good stuff basically no more of these dark melancholy tales from this node in the WWW. So till then, cheerios mates.

PS: amis menu for the parting day meal, Nihari for lunch and Khichri Keema and Shahi Tukray for dinner - all my favorites.

More For The Wanderers

2006-07-19T19:11:00.000-04:00

Its funny how life works out

The more I get of what I wanted

The more I need all that I have left behind

A Sorry State of Affairs

2006-07-18T10:11:00.000-04:00

All thats happening in Lebanon is absolute rubbish. Its like burning down a garden to avenge the prick of a thorn. Even worse is the US response, who do not support an immediate cease fire and according to speculators would not support such a thing for another few weeks. George W Bush, in his most disturbing statement so far about the issue has said that the root casue lies with the existence of Hizbollah. He obviously cant differentiate between symptoms and causes.
Word from CNN is that an Israeli land excursion has begun into the Southern Lebanon. The so called Muslim Ummah has maintained a mum. The atrocities continues. If we take a minute a to think about it. The timing of the Mumbai explosion and the Indian allegation of Pakistans involvement in that incident appears a beautiful gambit to came one of the strongest muslim armies at bay.
I am not suggesting that Pakistan flex it millitary muscle, it would bear devastating outcomes. But that any possibility of a country like Pakistan to vociferously protest against the exploits have been put to rest. Who in their right minds would pull a gun out for a cousin when the trigger happy sherrif is doing the rounds of the block.
What is certain that we have not and will not see the end of this latest example of Israeli bulleying any time this week or maybe even next week. One feels sorry for all the civilians that are loosing their lives in this insanity. I pray to God that their blood does not go to waste.

Wishes: Weekly Blog Word

2006-07-12T16:02:00.000-04:00

So this week its "wish" and I wish that I could think of something wise and wacky to say about the blogword, but the only thing that comes to my mind is one of my favorite jokes. Its not neccesary that you find it amusing, but those know me would definitely say "I can see him laughing at that."

A young couple is enjoying a day out in the golf course and the husband is trying work on his wifes' swing. While practing, the wife miscalculates a swing and lands a big one on the wrong angle. The ball flys into a big glass house adjacent to the golf course shattering a stained glass pane. The couple runs in towards the house to meet the owner and apologize for the mistake. They knock on the door and a man asks them to come in.
They enter the house to see the big stained glass pane with a hole in it, shards of glass lying around it, a broken bottle on one side, the ball next to the bottle and a rather portly man sitting on a couch besides the mess.
Before the couple could apologize the man says "Thank You." he then looks at broken bottle and says "I was trapped in this bottle for the last 20 years. I am a genie you know. I have three wishes to grant, so I will grant each of you one wish and keep one for myself."
The couple cant believe what they have just heard. The husband, not the one to miss an opportunity, wishes to be the richest man in the world. "Done" says the genie "When you go home today, check your bank statement, it will have more numbers in it than you can count."
The wife jumps in and wishes for a house in evey country of the world. "Done!" says the genie " Tomorrow you will recieve the keys to all your houses."
The couple is overjoyed, and the inquisitive wife asks the genie, "so whats your wish?"
"Well" responds the genie while looking at floor "I have been in this bottle for twenty years. I havent had the privlege of female companionship during this time. If your husband doesnt mind I would like to make love to you right now."
The husband is shocked, but the wife drives some sense into his brain. "He has given us houses all over the world and more money than we could ever fathom. Whats an hour for that?"
The husband looks at her and reluctanly nods his head in agreement. The geneie gets up from his seat and the woman escorts him to a room.

After an hour of passionate love making the genie lights a cigarette and asks the woman "so how old is your husband?"
"32" the woman responds
The genie smiles and says "and he still belives in genies?" ... ;)

Explosive Weekend and Explosions in the Week

2006-07-11T22:20:00.000-04:00

Before I go on to register the thrills of the past weekend I have to extend my deepest condolences to the families of the victims of Mumbai Explosions. Terrorism in any way, shape or form, can not be condoned. It is a sad moment for the people of India and it is in this moment of sorrow that we need to keep all our political differences aside and embrace our neighbours in an unequivocal show of support. I pray to God that all injured in this incident return to good health and all those who have lost a loved one find the strentgh and patience to bear the loss. Rest in peace departed souls. For updates and details visit the Mumbai Metroblog

Although this incident has put a sour twist on the proceedings of the week, it certainly was not the way it was summoned. The past weekend saw Toronto indulge in some of biggest fesitivities of the summer. The famous Toronto Street Festivals and the Molson Toronto Grand Prix were further complemented by the elaborate street parties that ensued once Italy won the cup. Yours truly was fortunate enough to partake in all the activities with the regular gang.

The weekend began with preparation to bid adieu to mother on what would eventually prove to be a very busy sunday. To offer a true flavour of the Toronto summer, I took mom to the Corso Italia street festival which offered the choicest of italian foods, wine and desert as well and music and entertainment. There was dancing on the streets as the St Clair Aveneue between Dufferin and Landsdowne played host to a number of budding musicians as well as pros like the Samba Squad. It was evident that mother was thrilled with the proceedings of the evening, something that she mentioned she might not indulge in NY due to security reasons. She spent the saturday catching up with friends and family in town and left sunday morning. Like every other time when mother departs, I felt misreable, my gut wrenched and my heart sank. However its all for the best, we are both evolving in our own worlds which can only come in contact for a brief time period, at least for now.

The grief was short lived as not much later I ended up at the Canadian National Exhibition to witness my first grand prix. My displeasure with my current job is no secret. However its the remuneration and some benefits that keep me going. Benefits like twice a week bagel breakfast and lunches on the house, like the fortnightly Baskin Robins ice crean treat and not to forget having our own race car in the champ car series. I thus got 4 VIP passes to take myself and 3 friends to witness our driver, the 2005 winner of the Toronto GP, Justin Wilson in action.
Its one thing to watch these races on TV but believe me its a whole new feeling to be sitting in those bleachers watching cars at unreal speeds whiz by you 86 times. The sound, the stress and the cheers and chants, the humidity and the heat all add to the flavor of being at the event. That and the lovely ladies that we fondly refer to as racechicks. They all add to the experience. The most astonishing thing and something that took me by complete surprise was the sound of the cars. At ever shift on the course one could hear an explosion and feel a jolt of energy rip through the car as the added gas accelerated it to and even more unbelievable speeds. It was all so unreal. Sadly Justin had some car trouble and couldnt repeat his 2005 performance. Better luck next time buddy.

From CNE we rushed to meet the rest of our crew at the historic Toronto watering hole called the Wheat Sheaf. The bar was so packed for the game that people were sitting on the floor and late comers like us had to watch the whol game standing. The biggest anomally, specifically for Toronto, was that the pub was a stronghold to French fans. Every time Henry kicked the ball, everytime Zidane dribbled it through the opposition, every time a Vieira created a play, the whole pub with its 100 or so strong audience would burst out in OHs AHs and cheers. Although I was indifferent towards either side since my teams were already out of the running, yet France's onfield performance seemed more impressive to me than Italys. And although he got nailed for it, but was that a great head butt from Zidane or what. That too was an explosion of raw energy from Zidane's head to Materazzi's chest. Cheers to Zezu, hes my new hero! May every head get to butt into someone like that. The funny thing is that his head didnt hurt and the only pain evident in his eyes was that of leaving the field before the game was over. Ah well, not all stories have happy endings, and so Italy won.

The good side, or bad side for some depending on where you live, was the throngs of Italians and Italian Soccer fans that descended on Little Italy and Costo Italia.Although I was barely there in the flood of Italian colours yet I could feel that this was one party that was going to go into the wee hours of morning, an hour I may not be able to wee out.

As another weekend approaches so does other plans. Toronto in the summers is the place to be. Till next update.
Adios

Enough - Wanderers Word of the Week

2006-07-06T00:07:00.000-04:00

Every time there is blood split
Every time there’s an explosion
Every time a woman loses her dignity
Every time there is an incident of sectarianism, terrorism or extremism
Every time the power fails for uncertain periods
Every time the city of lights goes dark at an early hour
Every time a person questions the existence of freedom
Every time the politicians make a mockery of civil rights
I wish one person or some people, preferably the entire nation
would stand up and say
"ENOUGH!"

Choices: Belated Blog Word!

2006-07-01T23:34:00.000-04:00

1.Brazil
2.England
3.Argentina

My choices for the World Cup and even though the fell out of the running today, Id love the teams to death.

Its not about choosing the winners in life, but sticking by those whom you truly believe can win.

Two for the Wanderers!

2006-06-21T11:39:00.000-04:00

Jammie has yet another great jammie like idea. A blog on every wednesday about a certain word thats sent to a fast growing group of people refered to as Wednesday Wanderers. I couldnt pass the opportunity to be categorized as wanderer so heres my post for this weeks word - TWO!

When I think of the word two - I cant help thinking about the song two to tango. And I write this, in my head I am humming - two to tango two to move ....but two holds much reverence in the life of this individual who was, ironically enough, spawned on the eve of two 2s of October.

Two is for fulfilment, end of a cycle, reaching the goal, finding a meaning, redemption.
Two signifies harmony and balance as well as dynamism and fluidity in all human endeavours
Two describes the sibling that I never had as well as some partners I have had at various instances in life
Two is the number of countries I have lived in and the number of cultures that have influenced me
Two reminds me of my best friends who arent single or the number of people they are immideatly responsible for.
Two belongs to the year two thousand and the concerts exhibitions and carnivals that four (two+two) people organized through the year.
Two has memories of Terminator 2 and Arnie's Hasta La Vista Baby
Two is the number of goals that Englands been scoring in their world cup matches (except with Paraguay and that was two minus 1)
Two is for two of my favorite women whom ill host for the next week at my place
Two to me is what two is to you - reflexive and transitive - that everything goes away from and comes back to. Two is associative, the well loved number that everyone like to hang out with. Two is powerful especially when you see it for the price of one. Two represents planning especially when it comes to growing a family.

So whats the bottom line you ask. Two is the essence of existence, the duality of nature.the single identity that represents adam and eve, balck and white, good and evil and if humanity could be quantified, ranked or be represneted by a number it would probably be TWO - which happens to be the blog word of the day! (see the coming back to the begining with two part :p )

The Dive

2006-06-13T01:26:00.000-04:00

My guts were churning with anxiety, there was a weird taste in my mouth, a bit of acid a bit of sweet like putting the tounge on a 9 volt alkaline battery. The operator was giving me instructions while hooking up the body brace that was suppose to be the thin line between life and death for me.
Once hooked we will turn you over horizontally and slowly lift you to the top. When all is set we would count down and ask you to pull the rip cord.
I noded my head and asked Dont I get a helmet? The operator responded that my head was completly safe and nothing could happen to it. And with that the cord that was tied to my body brace slowly got tense and lifted me slightly of the ground holding me parallel to it. The hydraulic platform that I had been standing on was slowly lowered away with the operator in it. I suddenly felt tension flowing in the cord as it started to elevate me.
Millimeters became centimeters, that convereted to inches and feet. As I was being elevated I could see the marking on the metal arch besides me. 10 feet, 25 feet, 50 feet. The people become pets and ants with every few feets of elevation. Far away I could see highway 400 with saturday traffic speeding away on it. The 18 wheeler trucks appearing no bigger than a small model. As I saw the 70 feet mark, a certain fear of height took birth in my heart. The Toronto wind with all its chill was as much to blame for the goose bumps as the venture it self. By the 75 feet mark I could not keep my eyes open. While still being elevated further up I recited the Kalma in my heart and recited some duas that my grandmother would recite when id ask her to pray for me.
By now I had come to halt. My eyes were still shut tight, I had reached the 115 feet mark. The speakers on the tower came to life with my operators voice. 5,4,3,2,1 Tower One You Are Ready for Launch. A sense of fear came over me and I thought it was better to be on the ground than 115 feet above it. And with my eyes still closed, I said bismillah and tugged hard on the rip cord.
All I could hear was the voice of Jim Morrison singing this is the end my friend. I rapidly descended towards the ground; I thought life could pretty much be over. However, I didnt want it to be over with my eyes shut. I wanted to see the end head my way. I opened my eyes and realized that I was heading towards the ground at a speed that my body had never experienced before.
I screamed OOOOOOHHHHH FFFFFFAAAAAA ........ and I swooped over the ground like an eagle picking up a pray while still inflight. The scream of fear soon became a scream of pleasure and I was shouting my trademark "woo-hoos" as I swung like a pendulum, suspended to the 115 feet tall metallic truss whose summit I had been at only a few seconds ago.
I continued swinging around for another a few minutes, flapping my arms, singing I am like a bird, claiming I had met god, gleeing with the fact that I was alive and breathing. For a second I thought maybe thats what freedom feels like. I saw the operator again he was holding a rod. Grab the end he yelled. I grabbed it.It was a elastic retardation mechanism that brought me to a stop right over the hydraulic platform.
Another minute passed before the operator unbuckled me and as I walked out of the staging area a few people in the queue inquired how was it? Best thing I have ever done I responded. better than sex quipped another person almost better my friend, almost better I said. And with a huge grin on my face, I walked away from the sight of my first bungee jump.

Country Roads, Take Me Home!

2006-06-07T23:45:00.000-04:00

I fell in love for the first time in class 9. The hazel eyed girl just left me numb. I feared being a fool in front of her and feared expressing my feelings to her since her mother was not only a relative of my mothers friend but also my english teacher. Thus I left her hints, wrote poems for her and read them out aloud in front of the whole class while staring in those deceptively deep hazel eyes. I sent her valentines gift, dedicated her songs at Dee Jays, gave her expensive gifts, the whole shebang but never said anything to her on her face.
One of my friends, who had picked up what was going on, said something in a hopeful dreamy eyed way that only only a 14 year old could say. If you want her bad enough you will get her, she will know and she will call you. I guess I didnt want her that bad since she is now the mother of a child, not mine, and happily married to the childs father as well. The only good thing to come out of that stint was I learnt to rely on hope and push it, since in my want for the said lady I spent tons of cash over a period of two years to no avail. Just hoping that she would "know" and she would "call" me.
Today I learned that a trip that I had been eagerly planning maybe in a bit of jeoprady and almost instantly I was hoping that Karachi could hear my pleas and need for its company and "call" me. A few people very dear to me are getting married in July and Augsut, I had been planning this trip since last December. However I was told by my lawyer today that following the recent arrests in Toronto of suspected terrorists it was being suggested that people with out permanent residence papers not leave Canada till such documentation is made available. I hate lawyers and bearaucrats equally and I guess legalities and beraucratic structures are both coming in the way of a trip I had been yearning for so intensly.
In a typical lawyer like way my lawyer just spun the words, you could get it anytime buddy, tomorrow, next week, next month, its a wait and see situation. Oh how easy for you to say that buddy, you arent thousands of miles away from the city you grew up in where some of your dearest friends are requesting you to join them at the most important event in their life, are you!
Much like the lawyer, a co-worker of mine failed to see why I was annoyed with the development. I have been away from Karachi, the only place Id ever call home, for three years now. Over this span of time I have lost my feel for the city. Someone mentions Bar B Q tonight or Bundo Khan with a sense of pleasure and I cant relate since I dont have a memory of the taste. Some one bitches about the dry fish trawlers polluting the Sunset boulevard and I nod my head in agreement but I cant remember the smell. I have completly forgotten the smoothness of the breeze that flutters through the hair while walking along the beach or the crackling sound of makai as it roasts sand oven.
When I read Dawn, I get startled at the number muggings and robberies. I get shocked at nightlong power failures and stories of traffic jams. I am surprised by stories that are as inherent to Karachi as the revelling youth who throng the beaches on the eve of independence day riding motorcycles without silencers or the makrani donkey cart racing that takes over the streets of clifton on occasional weekends. In short I am slowly becoming what I promised I would never become, a disenfranchised Karachite. A faker who claims to have passion for something that he has trouble relating to.
This trip was supposed to reinvigorate the Karachite in me and if it doesnt happen the Karachite would continue its slow and steady march towards becoming what urdu best describes as a dhoobi ka kutta. So heres my plea, my one true love, my home, my lovely city, call me, bring me home. I have HOPE that I am meant be there. I am prepairing for it like I would under normal circumstances I am taking all the chances, so you take your chance on me as well Karachi, call me!

Sunny Montreal

2006-05-29T19:39:00.000-04:00

So its official, summer has finally arrived in Canada. As luck would have it I was in Montreal to enjoy the first weekend of the sparkling sunshine. My family was in from New York for their memorial day weekend and I along with them and some friends of the family who live in Montreal made the most of the little time we had to revel dans la rue un Montreal. (I have to boast of the little, gramatically incorrect French that I pick up from here an there.)
Although it was my fifth or maybe the sixth trip to Montreal, but I had never been to the city in Summer before. My memories of montreal included snow covered streets, night clubs and indoor pubs, hotel hopping for work or for the academic competitions that my university sent me to or sometime even chilling out with some friends in some place covered. In my head, Montreal may well have been Pluto with some life form on it. I was however presently surprised to land up in a Montreal sans snow. Prior to heading over to my aunty's apartment I decided to stroll through the downtown and ended in a socialist protests against some folks being deported. But in true Montreal style the protest involved huge loud speakers playing euro techno beats like prodigy and chemical brothers, some protest. They should ask the mullahs in Pakistan what protests are all about !
I have always picked a certain vibe from all the major cities I have been to. Capitals have their own capital like laid back bureaucratic feeling. May that be Islamabad, Ottawa or Washington the feeling would be distinctly laid back. Similarly metropolis like New York, Chicago, Toronto and even Karachi have a buzz to them, theres a certain pace at which life is moving and its always a snoozers loosers situation there. However, maybe it was the weather, or the women, or both that made the summery Montreal exude a very sexy vibe. I recall an ad for Amerca Bavaria, a Brazilian Beer, in which the tag lines read something like in Brazil theres more to sweat than heat. The same may very well be true for Montreal.
All in all, I still feel that my earlier analogies of Montreal being to Canada what Lahore is to Pakistan may well be true. With sincerest of respect to my female friends in Karachi, the ladies of Lahore do out shine Karachi girls in the looks department (on an average, not everyone...I Repeat: ON AN AVERAGE :D ). Lahoris like to speak Punjabi more so than Urdu, much like Montrealers who prefer communicating in French. And Finally, every single time I have been to Lahore I have been thrilled to party there, much like in Montreal.
Unfortunately, I forgot to take my camera with me so no pictures in particular at this time. However, I am planning another trip soon with my friends. I am curious to find wether there can be more to sweat than heat in Montreal. :D

The Pleasures of Disconnecting

2006-05-23T23:38:00.000-04:00

One of the best things of living by oneself is the ability to take a step back from the day to day activities at ones own leisure. I took the opportunity of this past victoria day weekend to do just that. My buddy Ryan invited me to his cottage in Calabogie, some five hours northToronto, which may very well be a little quite corner of heaven.

Although it had been quite a while since my last trip to the Northern Areas of Pakistan but the smell of the pine in the air as well the quality of it reminded me of Kakul where I went to spend a few weeks of summer to meet my uncle who was at one point heading the millitary academy there. Living in the city, one does not realize what truly fresh air means. As stepped out of our ride at almost 2 at night I was welcomed by a chilly breeze which carried the aroma of pine woods and burning cedar wood which is commonly used as fire wood in the local homes. unlike city air that you can suck in for a bit before your lungs need to retract, the country just keep going in and the whole system responded as though it had come across a certain elixir like substance. There was a party in my lungs and the Calabogie air was undoubtedly the guest of the evening.

So being in such relaxing environment I realized the beauty of not having to respond to phone or emails or not worrying about the day at work or catching the right bus and other such rudimentary things that we become used to in the city. It was actually like disconnecting from the world which in this day in age is not a privilege but a need for all of us to do from time to time in order for us to maintain our sanity.

Although the weather could have afforded us a bit more of sun and a little less of rain, however we still managed to find ourselves the most peaceful of spots to enjoy an odd beverage or two while hoping to catch a fish or two. Wilderness was at complete harmony, for at some secluded spot the silence was harmonically broken the call of the loon or the noise of a blue heron gentally taking a dive from over our head into the lake looking for some fish. Speaking of Loons, I learnt from a local late one evening that they are one most loyal animal/bird alive. They always travel in pair and if their mate dies, they never find another companion. Thats a lot more than we can say for some people whose former mates are still alive :D

And so I used three days of a week to unwind from all the grime and stress that the city had pouring over in heaps. As we hit the dusty road back to the big city, both Ryan and I wished we could spend another day or so here. But what would be enough? Maybe small doses is the right prescription.

Sad Day

2006-05-18T00:27:00.000-04:00

So how many of you have heard about the Charter of Democracy that was signed by the biggest crooks my generation of Pakistanis has seen a.k.a Nawaz Sharif and Benazir Bhutto. I a sure we all grew up hearing about honesty among thieves, but never had I thought that I would witness this "honesty" being contracted on paper.

My reasons for not believing in democracy for a country like Pakistan at its present status are widely known amongst peers. I dont think that democracy and government can be bed fellows in Pakistan anytime soon, but it would be even worse to see these crooked politicians riding on the claim of "democracy" and winning parlimentary positions. What Musharaf has done over the last seven or so years would all go to waste, it would be undone, there would be new scandals new HONESTY tribunals that would investigate in charges of "corruption" against the outgoing government. There would be a vendetta like situation where tax payers money, whatever little there is, would be used in a gong show of shit flinging over some people who had the nerve to take the responsibility of the country on their shoulders in uncertain times.

I only shudder at the thought of seeing someone as inept as Nawaz Sharif during the whole 9/11 and War on Terror situation or someone like Benazir and her nation pimping husband trying to bring in investment in key areas of the country. What worries me most is the fate of the president Musharaf. We have all had our differences with the guy and as big an advocate I have been of the person, I have been absolutely critical of his handling of womens right especially in situation like those of Mukhtaran Mai or the Dr.Shazia incident that some feel was the final nail in the coffin for Balochis that has resulted in the current state of turmoil in the province. However, he has done so much more for the this country on his own in the last year that he deserves the respect of the entire nation. Unfortunately I have a bad gut feel about his exit from the affairs of our nation, if only politics in Pakistan were less feudal and vengeful then we may have anticipated that mavericks like Musharaf to get the recognition they deserve.

I have said it before and I will say it again, Pakistanis need to wake up and smell he coffee, one by one, town after town, city by city people have to start saying NO to all the nonsense and take things in their own hands to bring about the change that is a must to sustain our encounter with progress that has happened over the last few years.

Lets do it ! ;)

Tunes of the Pak Sarzameen

2006-05-17T23:51:00.000-04:00

When I was little the only time when I got really annoyed at my uncle was when he forgot my favorite mix tape on the dashboard of his car in the blistering Karachi summer. The sun, with its peak at the noon hour, took toll on the TDK-D90 (remember those) that a certain Shankar at Virgin on Tariq Road had put together for yours truly in a matter of hours. I was annoyed, it was the 90s, there was teen spirit on on that tape. What I didnt realize then was that there would be a time when I would be able to store tons of my favorite music on a small portion of a hard disk that maybe prone to electronic and mechanical failure. As much as I moaned the loss of documents and pictures when my Lappie crashed last year, the loss that had the deepest of impact was that of my music archive. Pakistani music and music videos as well some classic english stuff ranging from Floyd and Zepplin to Dylan and BB King all was lost.

I slowly recovered my English classics through some friends and some back up CDs, however most of my Pakistani music was gone for good. And after running into an unusual situation two saturday nights ago that involved arguing with a coffee shop operator over use of the bathroom while a drunk women got beaten up on the roadside, I realized the value of finer and prefered things in life and decided it was bloody well time to get that music together. So since the past two weeks I have slowly been recultivating my Pakistani music archive from various sources over the internet. Everything from Khan Sahab, Iqbal Bano and Nayara Noor to Noori, Aaroh, Overload and Meekal. While doing so, I was once again pleasantly surprised at the depth and the talent that exists in the Pakistani music.

The growth of our music industry bears testament to the fact that no matter how much a certain aspect of life suppressed, it only comes out more polished and flourished when it does come out. You cant keep a good thing for long. On one hand I was entranced by the qawalis and thumris and on the other I couldnt get enough of Nazia and Zhoaib's disco. One end of the play list had Vital Signs experimenting with all the boundaries that the early pop music industry had to face and on the other end Strings spread their wings out in the skys that the Signs had pioneered. May it Alamgir's attempt to adopt Latino style with Albela Rahi or Faakhir's spin on Flamenco, Junoon going Santana with Jazba-e-Junoon or Karvan going Zepplin with Gardish there is possibly no comparison to the level of diversity that exists in Pakistan, also keeping in mind the size of the country as well as the market that these people cater too. I dobt if our supposedly creative and cultured and definitely bigger and more populous neighbour could even stake such a claim.

At the same time, what I find slightly funny is the influence of RnB and Hip Hop on the music scene. DJs and Free-styling rap artists have started making appearances in music videos sometimes even dressed and decored like our 8-mile brothers from the hoods of Detroit or Up Town Niggas from ATL (A Town, Upside Down Yeah C'Mon!). Ebonics would soon be course offered in some Karachi schools that want to earn a few extra bucks. But jokes aside, it honestly is a reflection of a society that is assimilative of its influences. If only all those influences were positive!

Rest assured, I am really looking forward to making that summer trip to Karachi and shaking a leg with friends over Nazia and Zohaib singing Dosti, or some Abrar and Jawad bhangra song.

Back Again

2006-04-26T22:27:00.000-04:00

Its not a good sign when one blog reads Back and Back Again in a space of just a handful of posts, that said, I have a dam good reason to have been negligent towards the content of my online sanctuary of blurbs and babbles. You see Lappy, my dear old laptop since 2003, passed away roughly two months ago. The pain was unbelievable, the poor soul had a serious issue with its display and the cost of repair was just a wee bit shy of a new machine. It took me all this time to pull the plug on lappy and find a suitable replacement for it. After having flirted with the notion of replacing Lappy the Laptop with an oh so pretty iMac, I finally found a worthy succesor to Lappy in another Toshiba notebook. Hence the coronation of Lappy The Second took place my at its throne, my study table, just last weekend. And after going through the initial orientation, I took the time out today to log on to the katha of my life and blab out all that had been in store for the last little while.
So as I listen to a new band from Lahore called Overload, I think of all that I wanted to scream and wail about over the past months. The Karachi bombings, the hoard of friends deciding to tie their knot this summer, my job that gets suckier by the minute or that pretty persian girl at my gym who makes me weak in the knees, all topics that although improtant, have lost their moment of glory. Enough has been said about the bombings, marriage is generally inevitable, my job is a lost cause much like the persian bombshell who would continue to be my inspiration to go to the gym where I would occasionaly run into her by the water fountain or the treadmills just to exchange a brief "Hey, how are you!".
One thing that has got me super pumped though is my soon to happen trip to Karachi. Yeah, C'Mon! As Kay once said and her picto-blog things - Karachi My High, Karachi My Low, To Karachi I Must Go. Everytime I think about that trip I have a smile from ear to ear. Its been three years since I left Karachi, and much like cigarettes, I went cold turkey on the place. Havent been there since 2003 and word has it that city has gone through some major social, cultural and economic changes as well. I heard story about there being Pizza Hut on Zam Zama that has valet parking and a dress code - for crying out loud - what in devils name is happening there. its stuff like this thats got me on the edge to check out my beloved city.
Its going to be funny to be a guest in your own home. Ever since the folks decided to board that flight to NY, I dont really have a house in the only place that I can call home. But its time like these when good old friends give you that "hum hain na yaar" wali line. So I have been cordially invited and agreed to crash with my buddies Kabeer and Kiran. I wish they would have named their son with a K as well, then I would have called them KKK or simply the Klan. However they decided to name their son Basim. With all due respect to all the Basims of the world and the parents of all those Basims, it isnt the coolest name out there. Like a resume with Basim on it would likely be overlooked. It doesnt really scream, you would want to know me but is more like a me too name. I have had this conversation with KK and they werent too thrilled about my observation and blatant expression of displeasure with the said name. Ah well, not my child - so cheerios to Basim, may you not hate your folks for that name. I look forward to frolicking with the little bugger when I am home.
On another note, the time away from Lappy made me realize how much time, the computer and internet suck out of ones life. Its amazing how much time I had to do things like read, write and most of all watch boat loads of movie. I even got lucky when I found a great deal ona DVD box set of all Oliver Stone movies ever made (except Alexander) at HMV. I mean $50 for 14 classics is a serious steal.
I had a blast watching Doors and Wall Street and Platoon and the first Oliver Stone movie I had seen in my O Levels, Natural Born Killers. I recall an incident surrounding that movie that involved shaving my head with a few friends, however thats better left for another post. While on movies, a few wicked foreign movies that deserve a mention are The Battle for Algiers - a 60s BW French film about the fall of Algiers during Operation Champagne, The Leopard - another 60s flick staring Burt Lancaster about the life of an Italian nobleman at the time of revolution, Run Lola Run a twisted german movie about a girl who needs to make a 100K in 1 hour and the spanish movie Sex and Lucia which although a bit graphic, tells a beautiful story of an unusual love triangle. All these are must see movies.
So that is what yours truly was primarily upto all this while ago. It feels good to be muttering into cyberspace once again. I think of it as my shrink that doesnt charge a dime and that thought in itself sets the mind at ease.
So with that peaceful thought and a commitment from myself and Lappy the Second to be more frequent on this channel, I bid you all adieu - live long and prosper in all that you do or want do!

And Then She Left

2006-04-26T22:07:00.000-04:00

I wrote this ages ago and for some reason that I cant think of, I never hit the "publish post" button on this one. Better late than never eh!

A ray light, just shining bright
headed my way, lighting the path
that lead to the smile the lips had forgotten

Her eyes, with their quiet smiles
and her lips that sealed and concealed
the emotions that had been stirring in our heads

Just gave it away, gave it all away
the reason, the sense, the need
for her to be with me, for I to be We

Just when I thought that the light would spread
to the nook and crannies and dark alleys of life
she blinked her eyes and maybe changed her mind

And Then She Left

I still remember those silent moments
where hands clasped hands and we breathed as one
staring deep into each others eyes talking in the language of silence

I recall the times when a chat lasted for hours
and sitting down for a talk meant dedicating a day
when even the snap of fingers had a meaning

and I cant seem to forget those moments
where words fell on deaf ears, when all the voice
and all the noise, made no sense at all

all the blanks, the commas and the exclamations
just took the shape of a period, a full stop in true meaning
then the silence spoke again and this time it wept

And Then She Left

Plight of the Pakhtuns

2006-01-27T09:03:00.000-05:00

After having spent some dough on a home entertainment system the past weekend I started looking for a decent video library around my place, blockbuster just doesnt cut it for me. I eventually came across a gem in ZIP they have fantastic service with the deepest collection and the best part, I dont have to move an inch to look it up its all over the internet. I signed up for their 2 week trial but rest assured, I am checking in long term with these folks. So having come across a collection so deep, I started testing it out with random searches, putting in Keywords like Karachi and Pakistan. It was then that I came across a classic that I had seen as a child but had very little recollection of. It was called Traffik, a british mini-series about the heroine trail between Pakistan, Germany and England.
It was quite a treat watching the old 80s world. Its changed so much in the last twenty years. The funniest thing however was the Hollywood movie "Traffic" with Michael Douglas, Benicio Del Toro and Catherine Zeta Jones, is a complete copy of the original Traffik. Pakistan has been replaced by Mexico and the US has subsituted for Europe. Scene by scene, word by word, the movie is a redo of the mini series. Given that Sorderbergh made some revelant changes with regards to the cultures and geographies of his movie, but it still surprises me that a director of his calibre would copy so blatantly. Its Hollywood, not Bollywood!
The older version got me thinking. Replace heroin with terrorismt, replace the UK with most of the western world and replace Talat Hussain's character with one of the fundamentlist mullahs out there and we get pretty much the situation that prevails in NWFP at present. I dont think we or any one before us, may it be the British or the forces of Alexander, have really understood these people. I think that they have a talent, a talent of being able to utilize the sparse natural resources to make the most of it.
Take opium for example, who would have thought that the beautiful green sticks with a pinkish bud could produce heroine. Even to date, the best drugs or the raw materials for it, come from this part of the world. The Pakthuns basically cultivated the crop and then passed the bud onto people who would process it into heroine. Our governemnts response to situation was burning down the poppy crop and and forcing the farmers to grow seasame seed. Is it just me, or is that a massive economic blunder ?
Here we have one product, opium, thats known to produce the "soothing" effect to the mind. It sells for a lot more as well because it doesnt grow all over the world. So lets take a look at that supply chain and instead of killing the farmer, nab the people who process opium into heroine. If it can create heroine, then I am certain that it can be used in several medicines. Instead of wasting resources on setting fire to the crops, the government should have seriously considered researching other areas in which opium could have been used.

So now lets look back at these poor Pakthuns. They have lost their prize crop. They grow seasme seed which doesnt get them half the price of what they used to get with opium and right next door there is a civil war going on in Afghanistan. Any war needs two things, soldiers and ammo. And hence the cottage industry of arms and ammunition manufacturing gets a major boost. People start learning and making weapons and a new mafia evolves thats dealing in arms export. It doesnt take long for them to find international clients who would be interested in buying cheap good quality weapons on the black market and so it spreads. Now everyone can not make guns can they? So some people took to the maderssahs to get educated and have a safe shelter while they went through their education. Its no surprise that Maulana Sami Ul Haqs biggest Maderassah is not in the big cities of the country like Karachi or Lahore, but in a town near Peshawar. And hence their comes into being a supply chain for the Taliban which has multiple upstream feeds of figthers and arms coming from the same location.

Fast forward to present time, and these are the very institutions that the west has an issue with. The capability of the Pakhtuns to be the best at what they do. So the question that exists now, is should they Maderssahs be destroyed, should the Darra be raided and abolished or should those governing the country look at this region and its people as a competitve advantage that needs to be utilized and harnessed in a manner different than the present?

Back On The Blog

2006-01-22T17:51:00.000-05:00

As I found myself sitting aimlessly in front of the my laptop on a lack lustre sunday evening, I thought it would be a good idea to update the good old blog. I am not sure for what or whom but its become an obligation of sorts to occasionaly spew something into the WWW.
So I put on some Noori, (Peeli Patti is a great album- aint it?) and pulled my thoughts together.

The last month or so has been quite happening. Ever since I sat behind the wheels of the U Haul in Windsor to pretty much last friday, life was taking constant turns at warp speed. Plans werent met, targets were reset and activities were realinged. Christmas saw mom coming into stay with me for three weeks and it was an awesome three weeks. I bonded with her like never before. Plus, it was the first time that she came to 'my house' so things had to be made perfect. Thanks to a couple of friends who helped me tirelessly in even till a few hours before her arrival, that the place looked ship shape and I earned awes for being able to put together a reasonably decent place. The concept of downtown living is still not that cool with my suburban mother. She kept putting ideas into my heads about moving into Mississauga (read Miseryssauga) but to no avail.

I was initially some what tense about her trip since it had been quite a while since she lived with me. But things went seamlessly, I guess both of us have to some extent understood the individual needs we have. I hope she is able to come live with me soon.

As for people living with me, my partner in crime, Adnan left for Pakistan for good. We were supposed to share the dwelling that I currently have to myself, but Adnans sudden decision to pursue a lucrative opportunity in Pakistan left me to be king of the hill. His absence has however created a certain void. Much like the past few years since I have known the bloke, our last few weeks together were all about love, hate, laughs and curses. I was rather sad when he left but I guess thats life, people come, people go, we learn somethings teach somethings and move our own sepearate ways with memories of the time well spent. But that bastard still owes me money, so Adnan, till you dont pay me off, I am not going to friggin glorify our friendship. You Suck!

Along with Adnan, my Montreal buddy Alina, took the jet plane back to Karachi. Our relationship had grown in the most unusual of ways over the past year and to some extent, I found her to be my twin in experiences and aspirations. Yet another good one of to home.

While my desi friends have been moving out of Toronto. My gora friends are heading back. For a bit I had felt that with all the people moving around, my social circle would contract drastically. Yet life has maintained a ying-yan of sorts. As my mother quipped one weekend during her visit when I took leave to go out with my friends, once a socialite always socialite!

So thats pretty much it. The new year has seen a new relational alignment. All I have to do now, is regain my focu on life, that I have felt slipping away lately. Play life, instead of life playing me and all would be back on track.

So till next time.

Rock On!

Windsor Again

2005-12-24T08:46:00.000-05:00

Its 8:45 in the AM and I am in Windsor today. Its funny how the city keeps pulling me back. I came here last night right after work (the boss was gracious enough to let me off an hour before due). The 4 hour train ride proved to be the ideal setting for me to go through the book that I had picked up a few days ago. Its called Samarkand and what a book it is. Its set over a centuries of Islamic history with several parables and parallels to our current day and age. A must read by all.
I am to Windsor amidst melting snow and positive tempratures. Woopie Doo. It seems our dear friends celebrating christmas would not be able to cherish a "white christmas" this year. Thats good news for me. Since I have a huge drive ahead of me today, highway 401 is a bitch to drive on in the snow.
The reason I am in Windsor is that a good friend is moving back to Pakistan and I am (despite my protests) the designated U Haul driver to Toronto. For those of you less familiar with U Haul and who have bothered clicking on the link back there, its kind of a small truck/lift van custom made for moving housings from point to point, or in my case city to city. Rest assured, an adventure beckons.
Windsor hasnt changed much since I was last here, some 2 months back. The thick smoke still hangs over the town. It reminds me of walking into a friends room who used to smoke 24/7. He also had the habit of smoking anything that could be lit cup and gave a buzz. We use to joke that if we leave several open bowls of water in his room, there may condensation and rain. Windsor is pretty much like his room. The Detroit river and Lake Erie are throughs of water that cleanse the air occasionaly with its rain.
So I got thinking today that everyones going back, well all my Pakistani friends. Either I have befriended those Pakistanis who were all set to return or for some other strange reason all the Pakistani friends I made in Windsor are moving back. Its kind of nice, that I would have some buddies from Canada in Karachi and Lahore when I go there but at the same time, its going to be somewhat of a pisser to not have them around in Canada. I guess thats a part of life.
On a lighter its reminds me of line from Samarkand when Princess Shireen says "Who knows, our paths may meet again."
So might as well make the most of what we have now and save the rest till the time when the paths meet, again!

Worst Day @ Work

2005-12-23T15:14:00.000-05:00

If some one was to call me today at work and get my voicemail by some freak of nature (i am just shooting shit today at work) they would hear me say "...as surprising as it may seem, some of us do work a day before the holidays". Yes, the christmas/holiday season is starting from tomorrow and most organizations have the rest of the week off. That means no work till Jan or as we would amuse ourselves as children, no work till next year.
The wosrt part about a job like mine i.e. account management/business development/sales etc is that you are dependent significantly on other people. Your clients determine your routine, they determine when you get to work and when you leave. This point is further pushed by bosses who push the idea that what we earn is what our clients pay us so me must work with them. In terms of Porters 5 forces (yes I am a geek) we have 0 power.
So even if it is one crazy stupid client who has no life and works on the day the rest of the country is out shopping, we have to be at work to care of that SOB. The server he needs to configure cant wait a few weeks, those software licenses arent going to get to him till next year anyway and its time like these when I feel like telling the guy, dude, get a life, go get laid or something. However, the imperialist cycle of self fulfilment that I have stepped into deprives me of indulging in such simple pleasures.
To make things interesting in the absolute DUB style (thats what we call the company are the last alphabet on its initials) there is a competition going on the idea is that if can convince at least three of our clients to buy something worth $5000 we can take the rest of the day of. THis is where I draw the line. I didnt take the ethics course for nothing. Unfortunately, myself and others who find this exercise to be rather tasteless are stuck in the office. The others who pursued and succeded has been leaving as soon as their targets matched.
We have managed to retain our sense of humor though, balls are flying across the cube farm people are taking turns at telling jokes and ur bosses abviously are featured in some.
It times like these that make think where the hell is the world heading, I mean this is not what life is all about is it ?
Sadly some feel that way. Sadly it is all about making a buck or two even at the expense of others. It is a rat race, the cheese has a strong stench and and slowly but gradually we all flot towards with our eyes closed lavitating on the lognitudnal waves of cheese odours.

The silver lining is that I am writing this post from work. I am being paid to diss my job on the internet. Thats way of getting back at the man, 1 blog post at a time!

Happy Festivus

2005-12-22T11:11:00.000-05:00

On This Day A Castanza Declared A Merry Holiday - A Festival, A Celebration! Festivus, for the rest of us.

Happy Festivus Every One :D

Good Times From Seinfeld !

2005-12-18T19:56:00.000-05:00

its weird how life sometime makes no sense - you get along all perfectly well with some one you dont see anything happening with and barely get to see or talk with the person whose hand you want to be holding later down in life.

how does 1 make the right call ?

Getting Over You

2005-12-04T03:09:00.000-05:00

Dear Unicorn,

I love you. I miss you, now and forever!

Enjoy your life

Love
MKA

Zinda by Strings

2005-11-27T17:02:00.000-05:00

Heard the new song by strings called Zinda - and it had such strong lyrics, I was compelled to put them up her. Get the song, its definitely worth a hear.

YEH HAI MERI KAHANI
KHAMOSH ZINDAGANI
SUNAATAA KEH RAHA HAI
KYON ZULM SEH RAHA HAI

IK DASTAAN PURANI
TANHAI KI ZUBANI
HUR ZUKHM KHIL RAHA HAI
KUCH MUJH SAY KEH RAHA HAI

CHUBTAY KAANTAY YAADON KE
DAAMUN SE CHUNTA HOON
GIRTI DEEWAROON KE AANCHAL MEIN ZINDA HOON

BUS YEH MERI KAHANI
BAY NISHAAN NISHAANI
IK DARD BEH RAHA HAI
KUCH MUJH SAY KEH RAHA HAI

CHUBTAY KAANTAY YAADON KE
DAAMUN SE CHUNTA HOON
GIRTI DEEWAROON KE AANCHAL MEIN ZINDA HOON

BAJAYE PYAR KI SHABNUM MERE GULISTAAN MEIN
BARASTAY REHTAY HAIN HUR SIMT MAUT KAY SAAYE
SIYAHION SE ULAJH PARTI HAIN MERI AAKHAIN
KOI NAHIN KOI BHI NAHIN JO BUTLAAYE
MEIN KITNI DAIR UJALOON KI RAH DEKHOON GA
KOI NAHIN HAI KOI BHI NAHIN
NA PAAS NA DUUR
IK YAAR HAI DIL KI DHARKHAN
APNI CHAAHAT KA JO ELAAN KIYE JAATI HAI
ZINDAGI HAI JO JIYE JATI HAI
KHOON KE GHOONT PIYE JATI HAI
KHWAB KAANTOON SE SIYE JAATI HAI

AB NA KOI PAAS HAI
PHIR BHI EHSAAS HAI
SIYAHION MEIN ULJHI PARI
JEENAY KI IK AAS HAI
YAADON KA JUNGLE YEH DIL
KAANTOON SAY JUL THUL YEH DIL

CHUBTAY KAANTAY YAADON KE
DAAMUN SE CHUNTA HOON
GIRTI DEEWAROON KE AANCHAL MEIN ZINDA HOON

2005-11-13T16:39:00.000-05:00

aaj karachi bara yaad aya!

Murphs in Australia

2005-11-12T12:32:00.000-05:00

my best buddies are touring australia. check out their blog. Its just a wicked journey to be on.

Eid & Other Boring Weekends

2005-11-07T19:34:00.000-05:00

It was an uphill battle. Either I kill the weekend or it would kill me. Alas humanity prevailed, a couple of friends and a great movie called Jarhead saved the day.

2005-10-28T21:02:00.000-04:00

I never thought I was so fragile from the inside, but the earth quake in pakistan shook something deep inside of me. My sudden response has been to do something to help my countrymen. So i jump in whatever direction I can, what ever I think will make a difference. I have been so tied up in this stuff that some of my colleagues at work think I run a small business on the side. I occasionally ask myself why I am doing this? why sell the wrist bands, why work with charities, why talk to the PSAs, why argue with customs, and the only answer i get is I have to. Its like a must, like one of those things that we do out of habit. Like we know that when someone falls down our reflex is reach out and help them back on their feet.

I guess its just my internal insecurity. I think that while I was growing up and living it out in Karachi I had a blind eye towards everything else. I mean having never personally been effected by a natural or other forms of disaster, my mind was closed to the concept. and then all of a sudden seeing these people, hundreds and thousands of them on their own helpless, clueless, shelterless, everything-less just made me realize how wrong and short sighted i was.

ALthough its only been three weeks yet it seems like a life time. If thats how I feel, I cant even imagine how the victims feel. Would they even want to wake up everymorning to the same drudgery do they have the will to survive to move on. Its amazing just to see them stand there and do something, anything, it really is.

I guess we all have a responsibility at this point to support our people in any and every possible way. Its like how the body works, when a part of it is infected, the internal defense mechanism fights the infection till it exits the system. I guess thats what we all need to do as well. Help bring the victims back to their feet, tell them they are not alone, show them support, give the hope and help them dream sweet dreams again.

Help Us Help Our Nation

2005-10-10T23:28:00.000-04:00

Lets Help Out Our Friends In Pakistan In Their Hour Of Need. If You Are A Pakistani Student in North America Contact Your PSA About The Pak Quake Relief Wristbands or Click Here for Details

Phir Kiya Hota ?

2005-10-02T17:04:00.000-04:00

Agar woh hota jo mein chata
tu kiya phir hota, woh jo ho gaya
Tum bhool gaey, mein bhool gaya
Tum rooth gaey, mein kho gaya
Jahan chalta raha, zindagi guzarti rahi
mein chul para aur tum waheen rahi
hum nay shayad khoshish bhi ki
kuch yaad rahi kuch baat hui
pur waqt humara dost na tha
tumhari subha mein mera sooraj na tha
meri ratoon mein tumhari chandni na thi
jo baat wahan mein shayad keh dayta
yahan kehtay kehtay reh gaya
Jin bahoon ko shayad thaam sakta
unko dekhnay say bhi reh gaya
phir yeh suna kay koi aur hai
tumharay khwaboon mein tumhari batoon mein
tumhari muskurahat mein uska naam hai
aur tum mein jaisay uss ki jaan hai
jub yeh suna tu mein huns para
kuch apanay aap pur, kuch waqt pur, aur kuch jazbat pur
aur hunstay hunstay mein nay socha
Kay agar woh hota jo mein chata
tu kiya phir hota, woh jo ho gaya

2005-10-02T16:41:00.000-04:00

Followed the link of Samarkands page to the leadership test and the results, surprisingly, are

What Famous Leader Are You?
personality tests by similarminds.com

I dont think JFK was much of a risk taker, some commentators have usually been critical of his abilities to "pull the trigger". Who knows ? I am not sure if I like been compared to an American President.

I have been wildly busy in the past few weeks, driving all over the place between cities and flying to US and back. As always, I have some interesting thoughts that I would post shortly. For now, I have just moved into my new place in Toronto earlier today and am awfully busy setting it up.

Till next time.

Cheers
MKA

On My Own

2005-09-19T13:11:00.000-04:00

Yesterday, I rented my first apartment. Holy shit I am an old frigging bloke now. Its a funny thought to say "Mera Ghar" and mean it. I have been renting apartments and rooms for the past two years but they were always temporary. I knew that in a semesters time, maybe in 8 months I would be moving out to a new place. But this time its totally different. This place is probably going to be there for a while. Its not going to be a house, but a home. That fact, added to the additional responsibility of maintaining the place like a home, furnishing it to my taste, repainting the pasty walls to a more vibrant colour -basically just giving it "my touch"-make this an adventure with mixed emotions.
So the place itself. Its almost like my dream apartment, except that its not on a 20+ floor nor does it overlook a body of water, but its very roomy with wooden floors and a great neighbourhood. The landlords are a fabulous italian couple with two really cute children. Theres a park right infront of the apartment and the neighbours are very friendly. Its a stones throw from the subway line and around the corner from the highway. Since I would just kill myself if I lived alone, I agreed to inherit the apartment with a room mate. The dude is a really nice Indian kid who is studying to be a film maker.
So on October 1st, I make the big move of going on my own. Earning some, loosing some, saving some and still trying to party like it was 1995 (good old O Level days). Its quite symbolic that all this is happening in October, since thats when I turn 26. So how about three cheers for my big move ;)

Only A Pakistani

2005-09-11T18:27:00.000-04:00

So these days, while waiting for my work permit and all to come through, I am killing time in Windsor by hunting for apartments in TO, looking up cars and insurance rates, and playing cricket. I hadnt played cricket in almost 6 years when two weeks ago I took up a friends offer to join him for some cricket in the quad. Considering that frosh week was about to start, I went to the quad hoping to meet some hot new comers, but ended up getting totally involved in the game that I would play religiously as a child.
That led to me being a part of a team of friends participating in a cricket tournament today. The students association at the unviersity organized the tournament (in a soccer field, but still something is better than nothing) as a part of the Frosh Week. My friends put in a team and I played along. It was'nt much of thriller, since our team was way stronger than the others there, but it was still a good way to kill a lazy sunday afternoon. After the match ended there were five us, all Pakistanis, heading for our car, when we come across a huge tractor tire lying in the middle of our way. It was being used by the soccer team for some training exercise and they had not kept it back. For some reason, we all instinctively thought that we need to move the tire to the corner, so two of us put the tire up and started rolling it towards the corner of the field.
Our soccer field at the University rec center is made in an unusual way. Theres the parking area and then a grassy incline that plateaus into the soccer field itself. While we were rolling the tire to the corner, yours truly opined, wouldnt it be fun for someone to sit in the tire and roll down the incline. Everybody laughed, we made jokes, asked for volunteers and made fun of each other about rolling down in the incline in a bigg ass tractor tire.
Five minutes later, the tire was held upright by two of us, while a third person, Hasan, was taking position in the tire. We had two engineers among us, and they decided the best position for a person to sit and what would be the best position for the tire to begin its descent. Myself and one of the engineers were asked to play the role of a break at the end of the incline. Our job was to stop the tire from rolling into the parking lot. Two people took position at the "launch pad" and one person was all set to roll down the incline in a Good Year tractor tire.
The fun began when the tire started rolling down. We could clearly see Hasan with expressions of panic and curiosity as he held on to the tires inner wall. I was the first break, Salman was my back up. The tire was initially rolling very slowly, but gained momentum as it rolled further down the incline. I was all set to grab a hold of the rolling monstrosity when I realized that it could actually run me over. Behind me, I could hear Salman saying oh, its suddenly gotten a lot faster. I was feets away from the tire, when I decided to jump of to the side. Salman miscalculated the speed and by the time he moved away, the tire crashed into the side of his body bruising his shoulder. It fell off the path, onto the grass, and we could all hear Hasan laughing out loudly inside the tire.
Although the ride did not end as planned, yet it was still a great thrill. Everyone caught on and soon all five us were ready to roll down in the tire. We figured out a better braking mechanism and decided to use cricket bats in tandem, instead of bare hands. For the next 30 minutes, five Pakistani men, in their early and mid twenties were rolling down an inclince in a tractor tire.
What makes this even more funny is that there some caucasian, some indian, some sri lankan and bangladeshi people before us who had walked past the tire, but it took someone from Pakistan the brains to figure out that a tractor tire on an incline makes for a great time. Hence our unainomus conclusion was that no matter how good people from any other country are in any other field, no one can take the cake from Pakistanis when it comes to screwing around. :D

Life Is A Highway ...

2005-09-04T14:21:00.000-04:00

...and I am driving in the express lane right now. The past few weeks have been BRUTAL to say the least. Interviews, shifting, setting up the new place followed by the anticipation of the response from the interviews. Plus the fact that right now I am camped out in a friends living room doesnt make things peachy to begin with.
One thing I have perfected in over the last four months is what I call doing the Superman. Doing the superman is all about changing clothes quickly in a place other than a house. Now dont think that its about stripping down in the middle of the street and then quickly putting on another set of clothes. Heres an exmaple of "doing the Superman". Last week on Monday I had an interview in the outskirts of Toronto at Noon. Living in Windsor, Toronto is a 4 hour ride at least. So I hopped on the 6AM train to TDot (as some people affectionately call toronto) and reached downtown toronto (Union Station) at 10:30. I was wearing a pair of shorts, my favorite led zepplin t-shirt (its my lucky charm) running shoes and cap.
Prior to leaving Windsor I had shaved and I had showered. All I needed to do was my hair, and put on the interview attire. I also enjoy travelling light, so I had carefully folded my trouser, shirt and tie into a small duffle bag and I was carrying the coat on a regular mettalic hanger with the cleaners plastic wrapping still on. As soon as the train came to a halt, I picked up my stuff, jumped of the train, dashed to the mens room and quickly changed into a "pro". The technique is to pack your stuff exactly the way you are going to take it out, shoes and socks, followed by the trouser and the belt followed by the shirt and the tie in the end. Its a quick change, out of one dress into the other. A quick wet comb and a dab of hair gel further complement the look and the cologne adds the finishing touches. From a skid to a debonair in five minutes, thats a good feat eh.
Anyway, thats how lifes been everythings been moving quick. When it came to shifting I had to help my friend move in so that I could move in with him and he has a boat load of stuff. We eventually had to rent a truck and since he doesnt have what they call a "G" (meaning graduated) License in Ontario, I was required to drive the truck. It wasnt one of those small U Hauls that you see here and there it was this bigg ass F-450 which this huge carry on that can pass of as a lift van. So there i was rigging through Windsor at odd hours of the night. towing stuff from one place to another.
To make matters worse, it was the very the night that the remains of Katrina were hitting the Mid West, including Michigan, so it was light showers all night long. Adding fuel to fire was the fact that the condo that we were moving too did not allow shifting stuff after 8 at night. So waited out till past midnite and actually sneaked in our stuff, including matresses and couches, at 3 in morning with a constant drizzle drenching us.
And now that all that is done, its the really bad wait and see period. I have had a few job interviews, a couple have the potential to reach fruition, but the wait to actually hear a yay or a nay is absolutely nerve wrecking. Every time the phone rings between 9 to 5 on a week day my heart skips a beat I say Bismillah before answering the calls only to realize it some person irrelavant to my career prospects. This coming week holds the key, its make or break time. I have raised the ante on two opportunities, what I need now is a straight flush.

Yeh Doo Saal

2005-08-28T23:01:00.000-04:00

August 28, 2003 - I left Karachi. Its been two years. I cant say long or short since its so relative, but they have been eventful to say the least. Landing onto the Pearson airport was like opening up this Pandaroas Box of living on my own. Here I was, a somewhat spoiled brat who had grown up in the "lap of pakistani luxuries" and now all of sudden I was in country where I knew four people out of ten million and was asked to live in a city where I didnt know anyone out the two hundred thousand or so. Limited funds and lack of permanent accomodation were also two of the issues on my mind.
However, as most foreign experiences teach most spoiled brats, I learned the art of surviving as a poor student and its fun. Its been good, great in fact, and now I can also claim to know a lot more about myself, life and the world, than I had intially. Canada, despite its extreme winters and openness towards homosexuality, has come close enough to be called my second home.
I have also learnt more about home #1, Pakistan. It's funny how the the views can change when you look at something from the outside. Maybe change isn't the right word, maybe clarified is. You see things in a new light, on a new level. Its like being told you are fat and then actually seeing your pictures to realize the truth in that statement.
Although there is a lot more that I have to learn and a lot more that I am yet to achieve, I think these two years will go a long way in making everything else possible. I now have a solid foundation and its all set to face any thing that the future holds. So bring it on life, show me what you got.
In words of Robert Plant "Its Only Just Beginning".

Packing Up

2005-08-26T14:42:00.000-04:00

Its last week of august and over the past two years, this time represents a move. Unlike my friends who carry loads of crap with them, I have no issues with packing. It takes me a day and I am done. 4 boxes, 3 suitcases 1 camping bag and a couple of smaller back packs is all I need to squeeze my stuff in.
The fun part of packing is always going through the stuff that has accumulated since I last moved. Receipts of useless purchases, birthday cards, wedding invitations, thank you notes and even To-Dos that are yet to be "done".
Another fun discovery is coming across change - lots and lots of change, nickels dimes quarters all over the place. I have found almost $11 in change in the last four hours that I have been packing.
The toughest part is deciding whats trash and whats not. The assignment that I bombed goes out, the one that I aced stays, notes from finance class goes out, notes from strategy stay. The strategy quiz on the other hand makes the recycle bin and advertising projects make it to the file.
The worst thing to see is bills that still due - I generally close my eyes and toss them in recycle basket but thats not advisable. I also have serious trouble letting go of old magazines, I have a box full of economist and fortune from the last year that I feel might come in handy sooner or later, for what? I have no clue. But I remember most recently using a magazine from last year as reference, I just cant let go of it, I thrive on information.
The worst part is the clean up. Once everything is packed, I have to clean every single nook and cranny of the room. At times like these, I thank God and P&G for having made the Swiffer.
So now, having taken a breather, Ill head back to packing rest of the stuff. I have a feeling that a new adventure is just around the corner, look out for updates. :D

Cheers to all

MKA

Odette Memory # 527

2005-08-18T12:49:00.000-04:00

MBA Games - Jan '05- Quebec City-Returning from the spirit competition Ryan, Dwayne, MKA, Jamie and KS!

As It Ends...

2005-08-17T11:30:00.000-04:00

Its happened. We were all working for it and it did happen in a glamorous, the most fantastic and elaborate way that it could. The Odette MBA Class of 2005 reached its end. We are done. Done with exams, done with assignments, done with hectic schedules and demanding ECAs and irrelevant Co-Op issues. We are done, period!
When we all congregated in B-04 for our orientation session we didnt realize that the 40 of us would end being a unified group unlike our previous batches. When we caught up with our fast track colleagues we didnt realize that we were embracing people who would motivate us to succeed. We all kept going just building on from what we had which eventually turned out to be a solid structure built on solid foundations of trust, friendship, harmony and compassion.
Now all thats left are the last few parties. It was the Murphys last night, the Chevaliers tonight, Benincassa tomorrow, Stasiak on Friday and Carbanairo on Saturday. We would all bid each other adieu, with commitments of being there for times to come, of constant communication, of subscription to mailing lists and additions to MSN however what would never change, is the way we all directly or indirectly influenced each other in achieving our goals.

Pakistan Zindabad

2005-08-13T20:05:00.000-04:00

To over a 160 million people in this world, this flag is a symbol of pride and a celebration of freedom. On August 14th, we celebrate once again, the right to live and breathe freely. What we should also learn and possibly celebrate in the future, is the ability to exercise that right.

Youm-e-Azadi Mubarak!

The Freedom Campaign

2005-08-12T19:01:00.000-04:00

Celebrating The End

2005-08-08T16:47:00.000-04:00

Sometimes an evening starts like this, then you start chilling, maybe open a bottle of shiraz and unwind with your friends. Something like this

there maybe some lime light, some awards, some recognition, some appreciation, like this:

you finally decide to cut it loose, shake leg, have a ball party on - maybe like this

and when you finally call it a night, you can only wish these two years could go on a bit longer.

Cheers to friends, to the days gone by and the days to come!

Life

2005-08-01T17:51:00.000-04:00

While I was developing marketing strategies for Alpaca fibre, a door bell rang in her world. Probably when I was suggesting participation in Expofil, she headed towards the door, slightly curious as to who was on the other side and partially thinking about what she had been doing.
Just when I argued an alliance with retail outlets, she opened the door. And for a split second, our worlds became one, she thought of me, I thought of her thinking of me. She looked at who was out there yet the aftertaste of my thought, made her smile. I smiled too.
She shut the door, she went back to her world and I to mine. I continued talking about partnerships for selling Alpaca fibre and she went back to doing whatever she was doing. But we smiled for the rest of the day, because we realized, that for a brief second, we were both in the same world, together.

In The Waiting

2005-07-28T12:36:00.000-04:00

A lot of people ask when? I say when the opportunity comes for me to sweep someone of their feet. The thrill of pursuit, the adventure of the chase, the twists and turns of sweet talk, the thrill of realizing the one, the fear of loosing the one, the fight for your right and the satisfaction of getting of it all. It sounds rather confucian with its focus on the process and not on the result, but i say when all this comes together, thats when!