Cocktails and Dreams: 06/01/2005

Thursday, June 30, 2005

Thought of The Day

Man should take pride in his achievements. But he must stay within the limits. Limits, which are unfortunately governed by his own surroundings and environment. I took pride in my achievements. And I have crossed the limit, though maybe even by a minute amount. But I guess there's nothing left for me to do other than prepare myself for the nightmarish consequences about to unfold in four weeks time.

Tuesday, June 28, 2005

Im free from my exams..but i guess i wont be freed of the continuous torment that plagues my mind regarding my result. my friends say it isnt the end of the world...hmm...but i ask myself : isnt it?

Sunday, June 26, 2005

Sunday Bloody Sunday

The title of U2's song pretty much summarizes what I think about sundays.

Saturday, June 25, 2005

The Last Six Months (part 1)

As yet another semester draws to an end at PNEC, it leaves behind it a whole array of different memories. Just another year to go (unless we’re stuck in for a 6 month internship at the dockyard, which by the way still isn’t confirmed), and then we’re off to a completely different field of life. But if anyone asked me for a honest opinion, I’d have to say semester 5 was probably the worst six months I've had at PNEC. Lets start from the beginning. It started off like each of the previous three semesters had started for me : 1st position in the class, a hefty sum of money as a prize, and a great feeling of satisfaction. Though I can’t even calculate what percentage of my achievements are due to the prayers of my parents, it still felt great to be at the top of something. For four semester in a row. But little did I know this semester it was going to be much tougher for me than before. Not just academically even. It seemed I had taken a ride heading straight into a brick wall of bad luck. In February, there was the Café Vision shooting. That was certainly something I die to forget about. All the hype, all the preparations. The topic chosen was certainly quite debatable. Debatable about being debatable. Come on man! Hasn’t anyone ever seen the show? It’s a gathering of the cool and the trying –to-be-cool, the smart and the trying –to –be-smart and every other Tom, Dick and Harry that wants be on television and they basically talk about just about everything ….EXCEPT FOR THE ROLE OF EDUCATION!! If Rizwan Jaffer (the host) hadn’t switched on to topics like affairs and relationships and what not, I think the editors wouldn’t have had much of a problem, coz then we’d just have about a 20 min show. Anyways, it went totally hell for me. The great leader of our college, the symbol of our fabulous history of setting priorities, the role model of each and every guy in the university was at hand to supervise the whole event. Yes I’m talking about our Vice Principle. Ahh just bringing up his name (which I wont mention) in front of the PNEC students brought about an assortment of such beautiful praises for the man (which I certainly wont mention), and it continues to do so even though he’s been transferred off the college (Alhamdulillah). The man thought my right sideburn was ¾ of an inch too long and would be noticeable to the television audience (who were of course going to have their eyes glued to side of my head). And we all know the hard truth : if your right sideburn is ¾ of an inch longer than it should be…….then SHAME ON YOUR COLLEGE! So I had the …er..lets say experience …of shaving off my sideburns right there on the set, while everyone waited. That sort of really put me off, and I was unable to concentrate on what to say and when to say it. Though I have a fair bit of experience of public speaking and the like, I did feel really below the mark that day. The show went well for most people, and it just kept getting worse and worse for me. I wont mention anything else now, in the hope that there are people out there who didn’t see it on air, so they’ll never know. Not that I got on the table and did a monkey dance, but lets say a person who wasn’t shown to have said much on a talk show is rather a point of criticism. On the whole, I feel that the recording of the show is just taking up useless space on one of my cassettes, and I’ll probably feel obliged to record an episode of Buffy on it (just to show how desperate I was to erase it! ).

Friday, June 17, 2005

Thought of the Day

The capability of man to dream is limited only by the fact that he cannot dream anything he cannot achieve.

Sunday, June 12, 2005

A Simple Rule for Expo Lovers

Karachi Lifestyles Exhibition + Your family + Middle of June + Saturday Night = bad BAD idea!!

Friday, June 03, 2005

Sabz Sitara

"Hammad beta get ready we have to go see your cousin at the hospital"
"Why mum what happened to her?!”
“She had a baby this morning.”
“AGAIN?!”

The term ‘population explosion’ sounded cute at first. Now, it’s becoming scary. It’s spreading like an epidemic, that we seem to have no control over. PEOPLE ARE HAVING TOO MANY CHILDREN! Not that I don’t like idea that much. It’s just that I personally believe that we should concentrate on quality rather than quantity. Moaning and whining all the way, I still accompanied my parents to the maternity home, where there seemed to be a festival brewing in the private ward. I made the sacrifice of opening the door myself. Before I could get a good look around, a rubber band came flying out of nowhere and smacked me right on the nose. Come on! WHY THE NOSE?! Ducking to dodge further attacks, I managed to take a look at the assailant. It was my cousins eldest son (aged 7). He seemed to be practicing some new offensive line of attack that he would be exercising over his new baby sister. I had barely recovered from the vile attack upon my nasal organ when his younger brother (aged 4) yelled a foreign scream from the corner of the room and stampeded towards me. His age was such that his head was at a most uncomfortable height for men of around 5 feet 8. Luckily I reacted in time, and jumped over what would have been his rock-solid head ramming into …er..you get the picture. What WAS my cousin and her husband thinking? These kids could overthrow a military government. In a matter of moments, my uncle and aunt came to my rescue, and the two troublesome toddlers were banished from the ward under the supervision of a relative (who would soon be wishing he was in Iraq rather than with the two boys).
It seems strange, but people nowadays have stopped caring for their children the way they used to. I think a couple of children with decent manners and etiquettes are much better than a cricket team of boys and girls who could tear u down in a minute. Population wise, we should be a country of a moderate nature. We shouldn’t be like Germany, where people get paid to have children, nor should we be like China, where people get imprisoned for having too many. But most important of all, we should concentrate on the ones we have and on making them the best of individuals, both in religious and worldly terms.
I finally got the chance to see the new born. But my cousins daughter (aged 2) was clung to her mom, afraid that somehow this new intruder was going to take over her patch of glory and attention. So I decided to pick her up so I could try and make her feel better and at the same time talk to my cousin. After three unsuccessful attempts of lifting out of the bed, I finally managed to pick her up. She had passed not above my waist when she let out a blood curding scream, kicked my chest with all her might and in an astonishing combo of self defense, managed to regurgitate the her breakfast and spread it out on me in an even coating.
I still do love kids. If they're under the walking /talking age, and theres someone to feed them and clean them.

This article was not endorsed by the Ministry of Family Planning, Govt. of Pakistan.

Wednesday, June 01, 2005

The Inspiration for Writing

I haven’t ever considered myself to be very talented when it comes to writing, but one thing which satisfies me is that whenever I write, I take great pleasure in it. It’s something I do only when I’m in the mood. I’ve been inspired and seldom I feel I've been inspiring as well and I believe that the strongest power a person need to be able to write is inspiration. Over the years I've written lots of essays, stories, speeches, poems, etc. But it always has had to come from a thought or idea which has been cultivated from inspiration. I’ll give you an example. I sent the following poem to the poetry.com competition about 4 years back and it made it to the semi finals. It also got published in a book of anthology called ‘Under the Quicksilver Moon’ (which I still haven’t been able to catch hold of)

The Sound Of A Crying Heart

As the hinges creak loudly, and I open the door,
My eyes fall on the place where she sits no more.
Where she would welcome me with warmth that would make a stone melt,
And I would feel joy within me, no matter how tired I had felt.
Even though I try to forget the shadow of her eyes,
Why does she feel closer, each time my heart cries?
Is it maybe because her presence made me forget the pains in me?
And she showed me reasons to live, which before I couldn't see?
Is it maybe because her smiles made me feel she was mine?
And the brightness of her soul would forever on me shine?
Is it maybe because she promised to stay with me forever?
And planned with earnest the things we'd do together?
Now that I'm alone, would she know how I feel?
When she disappeared in a dream that had felt so real.
I only wish I knew how long her life would last,
But the only thing I know have is the memory of her past.
And now attempts of ending my life I try to resist,
It's her soul nesting in mine that inspires me to exist.
Each tear that drops on my cheek; in it sinks my heart,
And the wind whispers in my ear that we'll always be apart.
If you ever meet my love, tell her my wounds are sore,
But I'll always be waiting for her in front of the creaking door.

It’s not the best poems I've written, but certainly up there somewhere. The strange thing is that it took me less than an hour to come up with the idea, the words, the arrangement and the whole structure. I was reading an old magazine where this girl had written a moving poem about something I cant remember, and slowly at first , then steadily the words just kept coming down and I kept noting them down. Writing is what I call a ‘feel’ thing; at least for myself. If I don’t have that ‘feeling’, I can’t write. I've had to bear with the patience of waiting for even weeks to write a declamation speech, only to just rip it up and re write the whole speech in less than two hours, and that too in a much better way and with a better perception. And the incident with the poem above shows that the inspiration needed can come from just about anything at all. It’s sort of like painting, where an artist can be inspired or moved from anything and with a few strokes can conjure up a whole rainbow of different colors that show his perception. Same is the case with writing, though the idea of abstractness is portrayed more properly in poetry rather than in essays or stories.
If we look around us, much of what we have been able to achieve successfully is in essence the result of being inspired from someone or something. And as long as a part of us continues to be encouraged and inspired, the sun will always be shining behind the clouds.

Cocktails and Dreams