Everything Life

2011-10-22T16:44:00.000+05:00

I wish that I could just stop worrying for once. I wish that I could just relax and not care about anything. But I’ve been thinking that maybe that’s just the way I am and there’s nothing I can do about it. You say that you like my worrying though. You say it’s cute. But I’m kind of sick of it. I want to be one of those characters in all your favorite movies. Interesting and different and doing something and not caring. I want to be someone new I guess.

No, I'm not dead.

2011-07-10T07:11:00.000+05:00

It has been a week of change. Trials and triumphs. But altogether overwhelming and I’m dizzy from the ride.
I’m not entirely sure that I’m ready for the magnitude of things to come.
Never one to welcome change, I now waver between dismay and delight.
I don’t want to be all grown up and make choices. I don't want to let go of my quirks. I don't want to be vanilla.
I want to be a hippy and live by the sea. I want to be a mountain hermit and not talk to people. I want to travel like a gypsy. I want to work in a bookshop. I want to curl up and do nothing.

I don’t want to decide.

Don’t date a girl who reads.

2011-03-11T17:35:00.002+05:00

“A girl who reads lays claim to a vocabulary that distinguishes between the specious and soulless rhetoric of someone who cannot love her, and the inarticulate desperation of someone who loves her too much… because a girl who reads understands syntax. literature has taught her that moments of tenderness come in sporadic but knowable intervals.

A girl who reads knows that life is not planar; she knows, and rightly demands, that the ebb comes along with the flow of disappointment. a girl who has read up on her syntax senses the irregular pauses–the hesitation of breath–endemic to a lie. a girl who reads perceives the difference between a parenthetical moment of anger and the entrenched habits of someone whose bitter cynicism will run on, run on well past any point of reason, or purpose, run on far after she has packed a suitcase and said a reluctant goodbye and she has decided that i am an ellipsis and not a period and run on and run on. syntax that knows the rhythm and cadence of a life well lived.

date a girl who doesn’t read because the girl who reads knows the importance of plot. she can trace out the demarcations of a prologue and the sharp ridges of a climax. she feels them in her skin. the girl who reads will be patient with an intermission and expedite a denouement. but of all things, the girl who reads knows most the ineluctable significance of an end. she is comfortable with them. she has bid farewell to a thousand heroes with only a twinge of sadness.

Don’t date a girl who reads because girls who read are the storytellers. you with the joyce, you with the nabokov, you with the woolf. you there in the library, on the platform of the metro, you in the corner of the café, you in the window of your room. you, who make my life so god damned difficult. the girl who reads has spun out the account of her life and it is bursting with meaning. she insists that her narratives are rich, her supporting cast colorful, and her typeface bold. you, the girl who reads, make me want to be everything that i am not. but i am weak and i will fail you, because you have dreamed, properly, of someone who is better than i am. you will not accept the life that i told of at the beginning of this piece. you will accept nothing less than passion, and perfection, and a life worthy of being storied.“

— charles warnke, don’t date a girl who reads, 2011

P.S. Copied it off Bayl-a-Wajah

True

2011-02-16T04:58:00.002+05:00

If I make a false promise
and fail to keep it
does that make me
true to my word?

I have discovered the reason..

2011-01-23T23:28:00.000+05:00

..why falling asleep on amma on the couch is

a) so easy and b) always a so much better kind of sleep.

One thing is that the positioning is perfect. Just exactly right: my head, my leg, my arm fit seamlessly into her side. I think it's instinctive; I know how to attach myself against her without having to squirm or push or scoddle around. Click. Sit, snuggle, fit. Even my glasses don't poke her, 'tis so whipsy-smooth. The second thing is her breathing. In, out, in, out- it's a rhythmic, soothing metronome, something to latch a subconscious self on. Like waves on a beach, a dull roar you can send your breath back and forth upon. And then there're the obvious things: the way she smells, how she is just squishy enough, the sound her laugh makes inside her skin, how she doesn't ask a plethora of annoying questions when i don't feel like talking, how she lets me poke her and bite her and squeeze her arms hard enough for to prove to myself she is real and not leaving and also to sort of leave my print on her. MINE. Love is not a gentle little lullaby, love is a bite that leaves a purple tooth-mark and a slight ringingsinging somewhere behind your ribs. It's a good feeling to know I have someone I can impose myself upon forever- one person who will always be home for me, who will remember, who will let me bite and pull ugly faces and burrow into her, one person who will never tell me that she's too busy, that she doesn't have time, that she's in a hurry, that she isn't interested or doesn't care. I am always special, always loved, always safe. Amma is the one place where i can truly belong.

Dear, drama queen.

2011-01-20T21:19:00.000+05:00

I don't hate you. I just want to slice your head open, very delicately. Mop away the blood with a perfumed tissue, pretty pink in color. I want to inspect your brain with a blade, stolen from a pencil sharpener. I want to dissect each grey curve, and see where you hid your brain cells. They must lie in a dusty recess of your skull, untouched, unused.

Oh drama queen, grow up before I sharpen my knives.

That miserable…

2011-01-18T23:08:00.002+05:00

I was just reading through my posts and realized that to an absolute stranger who base their opinion of me solely on my blog, I would come across as one heck of a depressed soul. I’m not really that depressed. No really, I’m not. I just find anger, sadness and other negative emotions to be my best inspirations to write. But considering this is what will be left of me once I die, I think it’s time to make a conscious effort to write more cheerful posts. So I pledge to do just that, or to try to anyway.

Dreams vs. Life

2010-12-28T06:43:00.003+05:00

Today I watched Revolutionary Road.

”If being crazy means living life as if it matters, then I don’t care if we are completely insane”says Kate Winslet

But how does one go about living life like it “matters”? Do you run away to Paris like the Wheelers planned to? Quit your job and dabble in arts? Devote your materialistic life to charity?

I won’t lie. There has been many a day and even phases where I have felt like April Wheeler. Times I have felt stifled by my own life. The failures and even the successes. The choices I have made and their consequences.

It’s easier to be forgiving of the past. If I am unhappy with the way things are, it’s a result of choices I made in the past. Bad choices maybe, but what I believed were best at that time. I am sure I weighed my options to the best of my knowledge. But I was younger then and aren’t we all allowed some foolishness?

The present is trickier. It makes me feel like a split personality. One part of me is lulled in to smugness by a comfortable existence. The other is discontented, restless and constantly questioning the aforementioned existence. Sometimes it’s terrifying, this battle of “Is” against “What if?”

Around a year ago, I sat right here on my couch talking to a friend all night long. Our conversation was surprisingly soul-searching for two people who had just met. That night she quoted Zach Braff from The Last Kiss, saying “I’ve been thinking about my life lately. It’s all feels pretty planned out. There are no more surprises” She added that her life was all good. But she knew exactly how her life was going to be and there was nothing left to look forward to anymore. Of all the things we talked about that night, this is what I remember best. Maybe because I was starting to feel the same way myself.

The dreamer in me has never got confused between dreams and reality. I always lived up to the practicalities. But in doing so, I’m afraid that I may have compromised on all those dreams I grew up with.

Dreams nurtured by the books I read and time on my hands. Strangely enough they were never about achievement. But about places I wanted to see, people I wanted to meet and things I wanted to experience. I dreamt of being footloose. I wanted to be in places where history was made. Meet interesting people, make random acquaintances and find someone to dream with me. I wanted to do something worthwhile and make a difference in someone’s life. I wanted to experience uncertainty, revel in the unknown.

That was my idea of living life as if it “mattered”. Of feeling life. I even had a plan until everyday life somehow got in the way.

But my life still is and always will be in my own hands. So maybe it’s not too late. Maybe now it’s time for my dreams to reckon with real life.

This Made Me Laugh. A Lot.

2010-12-26T21:12:00.000+05:00

A 4-year-old boy examined his testicles while taking a bath.

‘Mum’, he asked, ‘Are these my brains?’
‘ Not yet,’ she replied.

Heh.

2010-12-26T20:34:00.000+05:00

I will always flunk people 101 no matter how long I take the course it seems

2010-12-17T16:01:00.000+05:00

Paper Boats

2010-11-29T18:47:00.000+05:00

Remember when,

You made

Paper boats

And named them

After me?

Black & white

Like the world

We knew.

Until,

The newspaper print

It stained

Our fingers grey.

Yours from folding

And mine

From holding yours.

2010-11-22T19:45:00.003+05:00

When I was a child I believed in prayers, believed without doubts. I believed that if I prayed hard enough I could lose weight before the next sunrise, top a subject I hated, have rainbows and sunshine if I prayed hard enough and more. I believed till I was 18 and then skepticism and cynicism reared rebelliously , or maybe it was reality intruding. Whatever the case now I raise my hands in prayer intermittently but I lack the total conviction I had or I convince myself halfway that I don't really need whatever I asked for. Self defense some would say, whatever the rationalization, I want the belief back... and I want it answered....

Or you want it any other way?

2010-11-18T03:06:00.000+05:00

Majal hai keh when a five year old is singing, dancing, running, jumping, swooping in for sudden, gentle kisses, alphabet spelling your incorrectly spelled mithun poster ("m....a.....t....h...a...n"), pretending your calculator is a phone ("HELLOOOOOOO!! AWAAAAZ AARAHHII HAAAAAII?"), crayoning drawings for you, randomly breaking into pushto (their neighbours are pathan), wanting to watch the same 'pink panter' DVD for the zillionth time, putting the three stuffed animals in your room to bed ("babies sojaooo"), giggling, snuggling into your side when you're asleep, being enchanted when you tent a sheet over his head, vrooming a toy truck around your feet hawking imaginary food, doing the twist with you to the pink panther theme song and asking 'kyooooooon' about everysinglething in the world from highlighters to how many is 172..

Majal hai keh the world should revolve around anything else, or you want it any other way?

2010-11-03T15:06:00.002+05:00

on my way to office today i saw a young man in his car, poking and punching the air above the steering wheel, shaking his head peacock-pigeon style to the music while waiting for the traffic lights to change. i remembered an older post where i could only see sad, lost faces all around and i was thinking, what has happened to my city? i've been smiling a lot these days but looking at him really made me grin. and i was thinking, again, has something happened to my city? or is it just that we see happiness when we have it inside us?

It's a simplest thing, always so hard to see.

2010-10-19T14:34:00.005+05:00

At times we become friends with the most unlikely people in the most unpredictable manner. Too many times friendships break for the most unfathomable reasons. I don’t understand how people can break off relationships which took ages to form in the blink of an eye. It takes a lot of personal investment to form a relationship of any sort. You invest time, attention and most importantly a lot of your own self in the process. One would suppose that if for nothing else then personal benefit people would try to sustain it and yet they don’t.

While I can talk to people as long as I desire, as much as I wish there are very few where I become emotionally involved. However when this does happen then I embark on this journey of exploration of ‘us’ with permanence in mind. Naive, maybe, idiotic definitely! I never for a moment imagine that I would lose touch with you or that you wouldn’t be a very important part of my life for as long as I breathe. It took me this perverted place to realize that is not so. This realization was like measles, the earlier you have it, the better it is for the sufferer and yet I still don’t comprehend.

I am not your friend because I hope to gain some material advantage from you or because I cant find a more profitable way to while away the hours. I am your friend because I care and that is something which you don’t have the brains to figure out… yet or so I hope.

After a fight if I care enough to call and continue as if nothing happened it doesn’t mean I don’t have an ego, neither does it imply that you won some battle of wits for there are none involved. Unfortunately logic never had much to do with how I feel about you.

Despite all this I have reached the end of my tether. I have tried my best to make you understand, maybe I haven’t been able to get my point across, maybe you don’t want to see the point. Whatever the reason, even for you there is a limit to what I can put up with without becoming bitter and I have reached that limit. So much as it pains me, much as I don’t want to, I need to.. let go. I need to stop but I will wait for you to come to your senses, if you ever do.

Hurry up though for I don’t know how long I will be here.

Now listening: Joshua Radin - You Got What I Need

2010-10-12T13:26:00.000+05:00

Sometimes you just have to let things be.

No Big Deal

2010-10-07T22:38:00.001+05:00

I could have been dead by now.

I had apparently missed the blast just by few minutes.

But, no big deal.

Right?

What a sick world.

Crabapple..

2010-10-05T23:45:00.002+05:00

Friend: How are you so happy all the time?
Me: Because when I'm sad, I just STOP being sad.
Friend: You need help.

But w/e all I need is a jhappi as of now.

Plus, I need to change my blogs layout.

Help, Plis?

I remember a part of my dream from last night. Walking up long winding stairs to the top of a pristine white temple of some sort and watching the sunset and thinking this is where I want to be. It was so vivid and real. Unfortunately I woke up to find myself on the couch and all the happiness went right back to crabbiness. I haven’t been able to concentrate on anything properly. I’m this close to cutting all contact from the outside world and going into my shell for a couple of days(months?). Every free moment is spent worrying or whining or cribbing or wishing. I want positivity. I want direction. I want an escape. I want sunshine.

Very disappointed.

2010-10-02T15:34:00.002+05:00

Just when I started trusting you with the whole of me..

Why did you have to lie?

Matlab,

hudh he hogae,

jee.

I tou just never saw it coming.
Humph.

...

2010-09-26T16:56:00.004+05:00

She was babbling. Talking too fast, words rushing out on top on one another to fill the silence between them, rushing from one end of the room to the other, trying to keep busy… Except when she turned around, he was right there, too close, and all too real raising a finger to place against her lips…

“Ssshhhhhh love.”

"Is it really necessary to say all these words when all you need to do is feel this?"

and a hand lifted her palm to where his heart beat in a reassuring rhythm…

"Do we really need to speak when all that is real can be felt?"

..and gentle fingers caressed her face, brushing down her hair to clasp her waist to draw her closer…

Random thoughts triggered by serial Malaal - Mature Love

2010-09-14T19:24:00.000+05:00

A racing heart is an alarming symptom, along with all those other clichéd expressions like butterflies in the stomach, palpitating palms, knees buckling or turning to jelly, pudding, trifle (or whatever dessert u fancy) and incoherent speech (disjointed sentences, obvious grammatical errors, stammering, stuttering, spitting). If a certain someone has that affect on you, then you are most definitely...not in love..but in trouble. You would very conveniently try to overlook the most glaring of his flaws and magnify even the most nonexistent qualities and even if the object of your affections has not been blessed, then you would make an utmost effort to turn his vices into virtues. This is what obsession/infatuation does to you. You chase an idea, not a person, you are enthralled by the feeling and a not a human being. Sometimes it was simply the magic of that moment which held you spellbound, sometimes someone just catches you when you are your most vulnerable self and sometimes you are just being a plain idiot and willingly take a nosedive into the ditch.

But I don’t want to talk about this...i want to talk about Mature Love...the dull, steady, predictable, stable like the waters of a lake, very unlike the infatuation which is like the gushing river, meandering its way down the valley, moving with great speed and zeal washing away everything that comes in the way. At that time you feel life is your canvas, and the possibilities are endless, you can move the brush in any direction and the painting would turn out pretty. You are spontaneous, impulsive and unstoppable. It is only when you reach a certain age, you realize in your haste, how you have smeared the colors on the sketch and how you have bruised yourself blue by speeding on that gravelly path. Anyways so I am digressing again…Mature love with its still and serene waters. Its boring alright, but I think it is only after some time and a couple of bad decisions later, you begin to realize boring is synonymous to stable, and stability is the only thing that holds you firmly on the ground. We may fall in love with bitches and bad boys, but we need a man/woman with character, principles and a stable head to move forward (especially if we ourselves happen to be psychotic, obsessive, impulsive and bi-polar). We need compatibility and comfort, as opposed to chemistry, which is completely ephemeral and can be blamed on hormones more than anything else. We need someone to think rationally, someone who has an ability to know exactly how to handle a crisis situation, someone who has the patience to listen to your sometimes wild, sometimes interesting, sometimes totally outrageous ideas without judging you but most importantly he should have the strength to stand by you and defend you fiercely if you are wronged, but at the same time having the power to alter you, when you are wrong yourself, without being imposing. I think it is almost impossible to find someone with a wild streak, a stable mind and principled heart. And if you also manage to fall in love with such a man/woman, than it may actually be mature love. You are not judging the strength of your emotion by how many times your heart skips a beat or how often he/she leaves you short of breath. There is something far more significant, poignant and most importantly lasting in that relationship. You share the same fundamentals, ideas and perspective on life, religion, career, family and love. In mature love it’s so much easier to tune yourself to the same frequency, and once you have that, then your idea of romance changes. You know what the person is thinking about even while sitting across the room. The secret smile on his/her face would be interpretable by you alone, even in a roomful of people. Having the power to complete someone’s sentences and enjoying companionship even in silence, without having to fill it constantly with meaningless banter.

However, having said that and painting the most idealistic image of this let me tells you why it’s still so rare, because this requires effort, time and patience. This is not something that you will get on a silver platter, it’s something you will have to find, and it exists in the most unlikely places. Most of us will complain about never coming across a love so profound, and that’s not because something as perfect as that doesnt exist but because we don’t know where to look for it.

At My Funeral…

2010-09-07T16:38:00.000+05:00

Sorry for the morbid post but it would kill me *lol* to not let you all know what I need from you at my funeral I were to die suddenly.

1- Would love to be mummified but that’s probably too much trouble so I’ll stick to the burial. Oo! A burial at sea would be awesome too. On second thought, I can’t swim and I’m not a water person. So yes, normal land burial it is.

2 - If my organs can be donated, please do.

3 - I want my tombstone to be nothing short of fabulous. And no sappy words! I want funny. I know I have plenty of creative friends. One of you will come up with something.

4 - Please do NOT wear black/white/baby pink to my funeral. I’d much rather you wore normal, colorful clothes.

5 - I’ve thought of photos but crying people…or dead people for that matter don’t make for pretty photos.

6 -There has to be a post funeral party. With balloons and flowers around pretty photos of me. And my favorite music playing in the background.In P.S I Love You style, I want each of you to say something nice about me. Photos at the post funeral party are permitted.

7 - The last time I went to a funeral, people formed a line to offer their condolences to the deceased’s family. I think it’s kind of mean to form a queue (What is this? Walmart?) especially to say “I’m sorry” to people who are already devastated. You cannot make it better. So leave my family alone. Unless of course you bump into them in which case you are allowed to say your sorry. Although, unless you are the reason I died, I don’t see why you should be sorry. Maybe you can stick to “She was wonderful” instead.

8 - Change my Facebook status to “Palwasha N. Minhas is dead”. And delete all of my pictures. One of you will be lucky enough to have my password. If I die suddenly without having given anyone the password, figure it out. My sister should be able to help with this.

9 - As for my possessions, my leftover money will go to my sisters. As will my laptop/laptops. My camera will go to Ali to add to his collection. My books will go to Sana, as she loves them as much as I do. She will also get my stationery. As for my clothes, shoes, other secret items you may or may not find in my closet , take whatever you want and give the rest to charity. My diaries…Ideally, I would like them to be passed on from generation to generation. If I do not have children at the time of my death, they will go to my sister who can then pass it on. Imagine as future generations marvel at my chronicles and use my words of wisdom *ahem* to live their lives … As for hidden documents on my laptop, I’d like them to go unread as they were deep rooted secrets and thoughts and are not meant to be shared.

10 - Don’t forget to save a hair and a nail for DNA purposes so that in case technology ever advances enough to re-create dead humans, you will have the pleasure of my company once again! Woot!

That’s as much as I can remember right now. If I do think of something else, I’ll add it in. If you can think of something else that I might need to add, let me know. Btw, this is not intended to be dark humor (Okay maybe a little). But this is seriously what I want for my funeral and this is what is to be considered as my will incase I die an untimely death and do not have an actual will.

:,)

2010-09-03T06:06:00.001+05:00

Dreams are always crushing when they don't come true.

But it's the simple dreams that are often the most painful

because they seem so personal, so reasonable, so attainable. You're always close enough to touch, but never quite close enough to hold and it's enough to break your heart.

— Nicholas Sparks

I be you.

2010-09-02T05:38:00.000+05:00

... I

want to take your breath away like a secret

present unto me alone, be the well of your happinesses

I want to call you when I hurt, look up into your

eyes when I wake, take your tears and turn them into

laughter I want to be

the only one you see when I enter a room

the one you call first with the good news

the keeper of your secrets, the treasurer of

your soul, I want you to be

the light in my eyes, the lilt

in my voice...

..

2010-08-30T03:49:00.000+05:00

The beginnings of a new relationship are so strange, are-they-not? Strange and somewhat tedious. All that senseless dithering, speculating about the hidden meanings behind actions and intentions behind words. It's an appealing miasma, but a miasma it be: this process of discovering, assessing, evaluating another human being. On so many levels the calculations start though completely unbidden. Even the most cynical of us wonder if 'this-one-time' will be an exception, and in that wondering drive ourselves mad. The most unnerving thing, I think, of this (inevitable) process is the tedious wait. The wait till he calls. The wait till he says what you think he should be saying. The wait while you wonder if what you're inferring in is actual fact what he is saying. The wait while you figure out if you're reading the signals right. The wait while you figure out if this is what you want after all...

Baba Dearest..

2010-08-25T03:41:00.005+05:00

sometimes when i am tired and the world is

far away and muted

i wish for things. things like

sheep and a pillow and

blue fish.

small wishes, little wishes

pairs of arms and tired lips still smiling

eyes fluttering, teetering on

a dream

sometimes when

i am tired and

strength is so

far away

i miss you.

Love was only a dream.

2010-08-24T01:38:00.000+05:00

I swim

Towards an unknown shore

Drawn towards…

The deep sea

I may drown

In the abyss of another world

Unknown to me…

I watch the waves beating the rocks

As it throbs…

In my heart.

Why am I climbing

Onto the steep hills

I know…

I am scared of heights

I look down…

From those deadly curves

The more, I feel dizzy

As the cloud kisses its peaks

It stirs an ache

I realize i may fall.

In the magical desert

As I get lost…

I walk without a destination

In its stormy dune

I heard it is this way…

In love

The oasis…

Seem a mirage

I am enchanted

In its fairy tale.

I float as the cloud

Slowly, maybe softly

As I soar in the sky

I sense a new freedom

As a bird, I glide

I imagine…

My wings could reach…

The moons and stars

As they stare and smile

I have touched my soul.

I open my eyes…

I see him walking…

Away, from me

I pray…

The wind carries him

Back, to me

If only, he could love me.

..and I wonder about the wonder

2010-08-13T01:01:00.003+05:00

Babies can hear at twelve weeks. I speak to Much-Awaited-Baby sometimes. I wonder how it feels- not just carry someone in your heart; anyone can do that- but to really carry a person around in your tummy, know that behind your belly button is someone else's (eventual) belly button. And best of all- they're yours. something you can really literally call your own. That human being belongs to me. (nobody is supposed to belong to anyone but when you share half of your genetic self with someone I think you do, whether you like it or not.) 'that one's mine'. There is such wonder in a small person! Such sweetness, such a fragile kind of purity... I can't stop looking at you, at your flower eyes and thoughtful fingers, can't resist lightly tapping your little tiptilted nose ("toot toot!"), smiling back at your six-teeth, crooked grin...you are so complete in your tiny self..your head isn't even as high as the kitchen counter and yet there is some kind of grace, some kind of simple wisdom in the way you go exploring, the way you think crossed eyes are funny, the way you give blades of grass, a brick, a thread on a carpet so much importance...carefully investigating, understanding for yourself and carrying onto the next discovery. It's not just that you're so damn cute in your own pixie way. It's the way the world is still astonishing, still new, still special. How every corner hasn't been turned, every berry hasn't been chewed experimentally, every lawn run around barefoot in, every banister slid down upon, every downpour been danced in. And that's what growing up begins to rob from you, and what I try so hard to retain. Wonder.

Where have you been

2010-08-08T21:41:00.000+05:00

outside, dancing with the fairies

delighting in

my moonshine skin

and starlit eyes,

my hair as dark as shadow.

i was

gathering the mystery of

the night's breath unto

myself, i was

catching the dew in my

eyelashes-

i was singing

songs of silver light

and firefly glimmer i was

magic, for one night.

I Miss You!

2010-08-04T03:44:00.000+05:00

I have finally stepped into academia again. A huge step for months of studying from one set of papers to another. With the relief of having finally made up my mind and made that ever important step of actually building courage into putting myself through the torture.

But among all that.. I miss you!

I miss you who are abroad, and you who are in the country.

I miss you who are just a few minutes away yet I meet on a very rare basis.

I miss you who are a call away but of whom I rarely get to hear the voice.

I miss all the laughter shared and even the stupid fights we may have had, the sarcasm and the humor found and shared with just one glimpse at each others’ eyes.

I miss the mornings where we wake up to the stupidest of calls, the stupidest of jokes, the stupidest of annoying moments or the stupidest of wrestles.

I miss the conversation shared, the songs sung, the secrets still kept within us.

I miss all the wonderful times, the amazing experiences and new adventures and most of all a person who really gets me.

I miss you and every moment treasured.

I miss you and I just can’t wait to see you again. :')

Movimento

2010-07-20T02:49:00.000+05:00

All my life, I waited for you. Now, when I sit in the shade of the peepul and play with the grass, you wander around the front porch searching for me, weeping, begging for one last chance… It is too late now. Once, I waited, hiding, waiting for you to find me, waiting to be swung around in a circle, my arms thrown out into the air, the wind whipping my face. Then, you walked away and left me bewildered, hurting. Now, it is too late.
All my life, I looked around to see if you were there. When I brought home my messy drawing of a brown bear just like Teddy to show you. When I bruised my knees because Nini pushed me down. When mama scolded me for drawing on the walls with crayon. When I was hungry. When I was sad. When I wanted a ‘there, there’ kiss. I looked around to see if you would be watching, waiting, calling to me, gathering me into your arms.

You were never there. Never. Not one day.

All my life, I wanted to play with you. Catch-catch. Hide and seek. Running. Tummy-rub. Tickle, tickle. Water games in the bath like Nini plays. Mud games. Snakes and ladders. I wanted to sit next to you, to snuggle into you and play for hours, to see you smile and muss my hair happily. To learn new games, new things.

But you were never there to play with me. And I played alone, all day long, scratching my name and your name into the sand with a long brown stick and drawing a heart next to it.

All my life, I wanted to ask you questions. How does the sun move from right to left? How come mama’s hair grows all straight and beautiful, but yours curly? How many birthdays more before I become a big baby and not a small one like now? Can I have a puppy dog? What is a smoochie? Will you come to school with me today and hold my hand and buy me orange mints in front of all the other boys and girls?

You were never around to answer any questions. Whenever I came to you, you waved a big hand and said, ‘Later, later’.

And now, it’s too late. Now, when I’m pale and white and no one can see me. Now, when I call out for you and mummy, but no one can hear me. Now, when I tug at your shirt or mama’s duppata, but no one can feel me. Now, you want to play with me. You cry over my photo. You cry into mama’s arms. I see you sometimes. You fall on your knees and beg God for ‘one more chance with my precious baby’. You scream and rage and weep till tears dry like salt on your cheeks, saying ‘they’ve taken my baby away, my baby, my child, my precious’.
But all those days, when I wanted to walk next to you, with my small hand tucked into your big one, dressed like you, looking like you, walking like you-
when I wanted you to lift me up and cuddle me-
when I wanted you to love me-
Where were you, daddy?

Love Stories

2010-07-13T18:27:00.012+05:00

Fact. Harlequin sells 4 books a second.

That's 240 romance novels, a minute.

Question. Who's buying?

Ladies, please. Don't act all feminist and cringe. The time has come to admit the fact that you've not only read a romance novel, but you also, secretly, love them. And for a variety of reasons. There are a few who loved the romance, few others the passion but most of us just love it for the extreme entertainment value.

Allow me to elucidate.

A typical romance novel is written in a tone which would expect me to empathize with the heroine/protagonist, so that the more I read the book, the more I connect with the character and her trials, and well, feel for her. Incidentally, the typical romance-novel heroine is almost always a 5'9" blonde with never ending legs, big brown eyes, curves to die for and a highly successful career, but oh my god, she has elbows. I have elbows too! Wow, I really feel like I KNOW this woman, almost as if we're in a parallel universe. Freaky.

But there is no Love in her life. No Passion. No Romance. No mad monkey **x, even. And just when you think you can actually empathize with her, a sudden twist of fate makes her meet Mr.Man. The books get particularly hilarious at this point with their descriptions of Mr.Man. Here's an example:

She had not imagined anything like those shoulders, which were about the width of a small bus, or the bulked-up chest straining against the fabric of his tux. Nor the thick dark hair, cut short enough to tempt a woman to do some finger tangling while not drawing one bit of attention away from the slashing brows, the prominent cheekbones, the stubborn chin.

I hadn't imagined anything like that either. But don't fall off your chair just yet. It gets better.

The chest was, as she already knew, huge and strong. The throat tanned,the neck corded with muscle. His strong jaw jutted in classic male determination. His face was freshly shaved, she’d imagined, for tonight’s event, but already displayed a hint of swarthiness that would provide the tiniest frisson of roughness if their cheeks met.

So you really can't blame our heroine for falling for him now, can you? The strong male jaw. The bus sized shoulders. BUS SIZED!

And this is just one example. There are a hundred different variants, all unique descriptions of raw male beauty, including phrases like "His crisp white shirt perfectly accentuated his rippling muscles", "His shorts did less to cover the muscular shafts of his thighs" and "When he ate, food got stuck in his hairy mustache". Ok, maybe not the last one, but you get my drift. Chuck Norrises, all.

Now is the time they think we must empathize most with our heroine. What would you do when you met a Man with a strong male jaw and bus sized shoulders?

Such are the complex choices life throws at you. Le Sigh. And so, then they have heated passionate encounters which are described in great detail. I'd post an example, but please. This is family blog. No joke.

The books are just high entertainment from this point, and so completely crackpot, that they're unputdownable. It makes you accompany the heroine right from her shuddering spasms to the ache in her loins and even the pain in her empty heart which was caused by Mr.Man who wouldn't make her coffee in the morning because his parents died in a car crash or some sloppy excuse like that (the bastard!) and then finally the merriment and utter happiness that she experiences when she gets back with him.

There are no intellectual values to these books, let's be honest here. No moral debates or male-female prejudices. It's trash, and so completely fun, entertaining and ridiculous that we can't help but read more. But most importantly, inside every one of these trashy, harebrained novels there is something that every woman wants - A happy ending.

Now Playing: Norah Jone - Love me Tender

Relationships or Manacles??

2010-07-06T22:33:00.001+05:00

Blogging about something that I wrote quite a while back. Precisely, when I was in 12th standard.

2 June 2008
Today I was having tea with one of my good friends that I have known for more than 6yrs. He was nice enough to help me out with my exam work as I was unfortunately dying being swamped with too much of organic/inorganic chemistry I am incapable of grasping.
In the middle of it, his phone starts ringing and the whole atmosphere changes. I ask him what is wrong and he tells me it’s his girlfriend.
I tell him to answer the phone to which he replies that she doesn’t know that he is with me and that hence he cannot respond!
The petrified look on his face and then the sudden panicked look in his eyes make me wonder what he is doing being in such a relationship. He has been complaining for the last 1.5years that he is not happy and the reaction sort of made me realize to what extent his life is a pretext. What sort of a relationship is it that makes you need to lie or cover up your presence with a friend you have known over the years? Most of all given the fact that he was merely helping another person with something as innocent as studies!!
I felt bad as I was the reason for him to get so panicked.And it also made me wonder what people get into calling it “being in a relationship”!
Is a relationship something that makes us pretend to be something we are not? Is it that which makes us lie and then cut down on being with our friends?? Is it something that ties us down and make us enforce upon ourselves manacles pulling us down and creating tension within us??
In my process of typing this he calls me. I ask him how he is and whether he was okay and tell him that I hope that they didn’t have a fight.
He laughs another pretext he lives with on a daily basis and tells me that they did, but not something regarding me!! (of course he did not tell her that he helped me out!)
I laugh because I have no other reaction for the situations he gets himself into while silently praying that what ever relationship I may be in, that I would find someone who would be nice enough to understand that tea with someone is sharing a friendly moment over tea, and that helping a friend with studies is something nice and would encourage me in such endeavor rather than make me feel horrified enough not to pick the phone when it rings!
But for my misfortune, if I do not find such a man (which I believe would not be the case, nevertheless hypothetically assuming), well I would rather enjoy being me and single than be some person who has no clue what the hell I am doing with my life

Rain God, are you listening?

2010-07-05T12:12:00.001+05:00

It is hot. And it has been so for the past 2 weeks. I’m writing this today because it is getting unbearable by the day and someone has to do something about the heat and the retardedly high levels of humidity. And, since you and I cannot do nothing about it, I dedicate this post to whoever the rain God is! Please piss on us, please do. We would really appreciate lesser temperatures. We promise to not cringe when see potholes get filled with dirty muddy water and when plastic bags combat movement while wading through knee-deep water!

Please make it rain.

And Murphy, wherever you are, please shut up for once. Just this once!

Kthnxbye.

You and I

2010-07-02T05:04:00.000+05:00

You look at me, I look at you

You try and you try ever so hard

You think you know me and you just might

I don’t try. I don’t think

I know you because I feel it.

I feel a sense of myself.

You walk away. I look past you.

You think you’ve won, you actually just might have.

These are answers to questions, you don’t ask.

I have all my answers, what do you have?

This is something else..

2010-06-28T05:37:00.000+05:00

I like to see my life as this chain of events. Some people like to see life as it is in that moment, disregarding the past or the future. But I can never do that. I see myself as a product of everything that has happened to me in my life. I can even pin-point traits and attach them to certain significant pieces of my past (Yes, I'm thatself-obsessed sometimes).

So recently, one self-indulgent Sunday, I realized I had seen a lot of moments in my life where I thought "This is it. This is what I've been looking for all my life. This is going to fix everything and it's going to be all sunshine and rainbows from know. I can just feelit." Anyone who has been reading this blog for a while would know exactly what I'm talking about. Invariably, such things would blow up in my face and I'd end up feeling like a complete idiot. But I'd still think it the next time.

Then finally I reached this point where I said "Fuck this shit. There's no such things as contentment". I saw it as an illusions we were fed with to keep us going, but in fact, life is just a ladder that we keep climbing thinking the next rung will be the last, only to find a new challenge. And then we die and never really find out what the fuss was all about. Cynicism, as you might call it.

But this last month, a really important person taught me this really important thing. Life is not a ladder. Life is not about growth. It's a journey (excuse the cliche). And it's not really about getting somewhere. Sometimes it's like an obstacle course, sometimes it's like this beautiful oasis and you want to stay there forever. But you have got to move on. And what matters is not that you couldn't stay, but that you were there.

I write such SHIT these days.

2010-06-22T20:07:00.000+05:00

What does it take for people to appreciate life the way it is?
More that that, what will it take for them to stand up and face their problems?
I'm not saying that there aren't people who go through the most harrowing and scarring problem that are almost impossible to live with, I'm talking about us The Youth.
I mean seriously, what do we even know about life to say shit like 'Life sucks' or 'I don't deserve to live'. If life were that simple, that easy that we could figure it out in 20 something years, why would being an adult mean ANYTHING at all?
We all do it but there's a difference between saying it in an exaggerated comical sense and actually believing it. I went through that phase too and got over it only a few months back. Sometimes, when I see other young people who are actually ten trillion times better than me but they still hate themselves. I'm just like 'Why am *I* okay with who I am?'
I squared with the way I was and now there's only moving forward. I don't think I'm awesome or great, I think I'm pretty average and unremarkable but I'm okay with that.

Damn. You guys are like my babies.

Seriously?

2010-06-20T20:23:00.001+05:00

I hate it when guys with the same last name as mine, add me on facebook and go "Hiee r v relatd? Ur really hot lik me ;)"
Seriously? Seriously? Are you seriously that stupid or what? Get a life already !

Also, don't you just love it when you've been fretting about something for days, months or even years, and then one day you wake up and you just don't give a shit.

I know I do.

Shes Still A Little Girl

2010-06-19T18:32:00.000+05:00

She stands alone in the middle of nowhere.

All alone with no one to care.

She does not let anything come near her,

Or let any emotions touch her.

For she had a door,

A door of detestation to shields her.

All she wants is to be a superwoman,

Superwoman with a heart of stone,

Yet unaware of what to do with all those undisclosed desires,

Desires of her knight in the shining armor.

She is the strongest one in front of everyone;

But when alone she cries like a baby for the smallest of thing.

She will pretend to be the wisest & Miss “Know it all”

Though secretly she knows she’s got lots to learn.

She takes care of everyone while she curbs her soul desire of getting pampered,being loved.

She wants to be all grown up and be "the" woman but she still is "a" little girl.

Now Listening to: I had a dream - Priscilla Ahn

The Freaky Uncle !! O.o

2010-06-18T23:45:00.001+05:00

Okay, So I'm walking in the park like I do almost everyday. And this uncle, I'd be better to call him Nana jee (Grandfather) passes me on the walking track and smiles at me. Making me wonder if I know him, is he some random neighbour of mine that I dont remember. Or could be my friends Nana/Uncle/Father. Anyways so on the next round when I pass him again I ignore him. Third time he stops and starts talking to me. here is how the conversation goes :

Freaky Budha (Old guy) : Why you not smile?

Yours truely : Excuse me?

Freaky Budha (Old guy) : why (pause) you (pause) not (pause) smile ?

Yours truely : Umm. 'Cause I don't think I know you.

Freaky Budha (Old guy) : So I have been watching you here from past few months. So u like walking. So why you not jog?

Yours truely : eh....um....(at this point i slowly start backing away)

Freaky Budha (Old guy) : (looks me up and down) You look good. Why walking? and so why you walk alone?

Yours truely : en.... (and I'm walking away...)

Freaky Budha (Old guy) : (calling after me...) You should listen to music while walking. You should also move your arms... it gives you good thrust!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA O.O

No more lolling :(

2010-06-18T01:26:00.001+05:00

Palshu says: yo !
Palshu says: helluuss
The chussarh says: heyys! kaissi hay
Palshu says: set set
The chussarh says: 27th. You and l will unite. Again.
Palshu says: Omigashh !! *dance dance* lol
The chussarh says: ;)
Palshu says: lol
The chussarh says: What were you doing?
Palshu says: kooooch nai. lol

The chussarh is inviting you to start sending webcam. Do you want to Accept (Alt+C) or Decline (Alt+D) the invitation?

You have accepted the invitation to start sending webcam.

Palshu says: :D
The chussarh says: Areey meri bachiiiiii !! You look so tired. Manhoos kajal keyun nahi lagaya hai?
Palshu says: I is too tired to even wash my face. lol
The chussarh says: Itna andheera keyun hai?
Palshu says: No light, yeh Pakistan hai, janiiiii light chale jaeey tou ana bhool jatee hai lol
The chussarh says: :/
Palshu says: :P :D lol
The chussarh says: baqi sab kaisay hain??
Palshu says: Set, dance kar rahay hain. lol
The chussarh says: Oh wow! Konsa song?
Palshu says: Zindage - kites lol
The chussarh says: Ask them to practice some fit dance. We'll dance together ;)
Palshu says: yeah yeah sure. lol
The chussarh says: tu bhee karay gee, last time ki tarha kutapana dikha ker bistar per na mar jana iss time. I'm telling you!!
Palshu says: lol lol lol :P dance with you? okay lol
The chussarh says: LUL
Palshu says: lulzz
The chussarh say: kuti l hate LOL
Palshu says: Saves time ;)
The chussarh says: yaar.. saves time? ACHH.
Palshu says: lol
The chussarh says: YOU HAVE BEEN USING IT IN EVERY SINGLE SENTENCE !! What is wrong with you!!!!
Palshu says: I don't know. :( Aadat hogae hai :/
The chussarh says: bas kar doh adat ki bachi
Palshu says: lol
The chussarh says: :@ ab LOL kia naa phir dekhna :@
Palshu says: lol oh okay

The chussarh is appear offline.

Kia ? :/

Betrayed Trust

2010-06-16T23:17:00.000+05:00

I was horribly shocked when I turned on the news this morning. It was a documentary by BBC. I have tried and summed it up for you.

BBC investigation has found Children have been subjected to rape and prostitution by United Nations peacekeepers in Haiti and Liberia. Again, United Nations "peace keepers". Girls have told of regular encounters with soldiers where sex is demanded in return for food or money. The assistant secretary-general for peacekeeping operations acknowledges that sexual abuse is widespread.

In Haiti, a street girl as young as 11 had reported sexual abuse by peacekeepers outside the gates of the presidential palace in Port-Au-Prince.

A 14-year-old described her abduction and rape inside a UN naval base in the country two years ago. Despite detailed medical and circumstantial evidence, the allegation was dismissed by the UN for lack of evidence - and the alleged attacker returned to his home country. In Liberia, meanwhile, a 15-year-old said she had been attacked by a UN officer on 15 November.

Peace workers, who are sent to places, to help the population and make their lives easier, in turn betray them. The lives of those young children are scarred for ever, just because they trusted a humanitarian worker.

I think it’s absolutely disgusting, pathetic and spiteful to even have such workers working in an organization like the UN.

Who are these people supposed to trust?

Ouh, The Chutney.

2010-06-16T06:45:00.001+05:00

I went for lunch to family friends place yesterday. Lying on the lunch table I saw a bowl of a red chutney. Upon inquiry I found out that I was to be very careful with it, and that it was quite spicy.

The arrogant part of me took up the challenge, as im quite proud of my spice eating abilities. I took a big dollop of it on my plate and dipped my roti (bread) into it generously.

In under a minute, my eyes were watering and my nose had turned red. Alarm bells were ringing in my head, as my brain threatened to stop functioning unless I drank some icey cold water. I took a sip from my glass, enviously glancing at the coke bottle a few feet away from me.

I did finish the chutney eventually. Ah. Twas awesome.

I've lived and I've learned.

2010-06-12T22:33:00.001+05:00

I've learned that having someone tell you he loves you and having someone show you he loves you, are two completely different things.

I've learned that to stay away from a previous argument, you need to stay away from the person you're having the argument with.

I've learned that the only person who can love you unconditionally is your mother.

I've learned that it takes years to build up trust and only seconds to break it.

I've learned that you don't have to change friends if you understand the friends change..

I've learned that sometimes a nap is the best medicine.

I've learned that you shouldn't cry over anything that can't cry back.

I've learned that you don't really know a person till you've made them mad.

I've learned that the older I get, the more I say "I don't know". When I was younger, I thought I knew it all.

I've learned that in relationships, it's better to have an end with misery than misery without an end.

I've learned that the only thing you can be sure of is improving yourself.

I've learned that if you're too embarrassed to tell your best friend about something you've done, then you shouldn't have done it in the first place.

I've learned that a best friend is someone who loves you when you've forgotten to love yourself.

I've learned that its the small things, 'itsy-bitsy-gone-unnoticed' small things that makes one truly happy from within.

I've learned that a smile can solve all the problems. Almost all of them.

Okay, now..

2010-06-09T23:20:00.001+05:00

..this is it ! The next person to ask me when I'm getting married, is gonna get a tight chamat (slap). I swear! Just try it.

Hey you !

2010-06-09T04:48:00.001+05:00

Dear, new follower (~~stalker~~). Yes, you. The one using Rogers Cables. Please leave a comment or two, next time you visit my blog. I wouldn't mind that.

Thank you,
Your favorite,
Palwasha Nawaz Karam Hussain Minhas.

Better still, fuck off !

2010-06-09T01:09:00.000+05:00

I hate this feeling.

All i seem to have a craving for is letting out a LOUD, VOCALCHORDKILLING FUCK YOU(at several things, or maybe not) and there's no way i can do that. no FUCKING way.

The way I see it # 5

2010-06-09T00:13:00.001+05:00

"The Pat-On-The-Back exists because giving yourself a high five is a lot like clapping for someone else. But a pat on your back? That's all for you."

- Palwasha N. Minhas

Something that I can call, My own.

2010-06-08T23:56:00.000+05:00

I want a thing.

And i want it to be MY thing.

I need to own it, nurture it, let it lead me on, make me mad, make me crazy, and i'll HATE it. But yeah, it'll still be MY OWN thing.

And it'll always be there.

I miss you..

2010-06-08T23:46:00.000+05:00

Its raining !!

2010-06-06T15:19:00.000+05:00

Its raining billis(cats) and kutas(dogs) here in karachi. The mausam is so awesome !

BUT I'm scared. o.O

So like after an eternity..

2010-06-05T14:34:00.000+05:00

..last night I had an absolutely AMAZING dream ! I woke up with such an amazing feeling. Haey. Its going to be a good day. I know. I know.

Are you where you were meant to be?

2010-06-05T00:11:00.001+05:00

Am I where I was meant to be? No, let’s rephrase that question: Am I where others thought I would be? How does it matter what others think, but when they tell you that they never thought you would be doing this now and here, you begin to wonder – where did they think I would be?

Last night, over a long conversation with a cousin, it came up, this line about ‘I never thought you would be doing this, living like that.’ And I started thinking of how I’ve actually lived my life in defiance of most expectations of me, unintentionally though. I haven’t lived up to the idea of ‘me’ that various people formed in their heads. How funny, no?

How strange that all of those people have different pictures of me. How did I morph into so many things at the same time and none of them at all?

When I was young, very foolish and very young, I wanted to be nothing but rich. Actually, I always wanted to be well-educated and rich. Polished and rich. Knowledgeable and rich. Smart and rich. And I never then thought I would work to be rich! Somewhere down the line the idea of financial independence took hold in my head and I wanted to do something. I had no idea what I could do to be rich, but I knew that the one thing I could do reasonably well was write. Things fell into place and I started writing. I was still not rich. I gave up writing after some time to be rich. Now I'm neither rich nor a full time writer! Of course, I'm still trying my luck at both! I always wanted to be my own boss and at least, that I am.

How come I ended up doing everything I was not meant to? And yet, it never occurs to me till someone points it out to me...

Of course, we rarely live our lives that way we thought we would as kids. What did you want to be when you were a child? What did others think you would be? Are you there?

For those of you who have been praying,...

2010-06-02T18:24:00.000+05:00

...you can stop now.

My Nanu jani, my beloved grandfather died on 30th May 2010.

The hardest part was to console my mother. I write and talk about everything. Have a chest full of words for almost every occasion. But, I failed. Failed miserably in finding a single word that could made my mother feel better, even for a second.

So I did what I could. Held her and helped her cry.

There is much I will need to write so that I can remember. Because I never want to forget.

Ever.

..

2010-05-29T00:24:00.001+05:00

My Nana (Grandfather) couldn't even recognize me today.. I knew that he wasn't feeling well from last month but didn't know that things were this serious. He wanted to meet all of his children. He called my mom today. He looked so weak. As if he has been starving since months. She just couldn't stop her tears from falling when she saw him.

Am trying not to worry, but it's not easy.

I need all of you to please pray for him.

Missing you something awful today..

2010-05-27T16:00:00.000+05:00

Baba..

It's been five years, BabaDearest, since you've been gone.

Five years and there have been moments, many moments when you gave me signs that you are ok. I have felt your presence in my life in ways that have awed me and comforted my soul.

Five years and you have shown us so clearly, so perfectly that we must carry on and continue; that we must laugh and live.

Five years, my beloved BabaDearest, since you've been gone and it still hurts like hell...sometimes more.

Five years, since the world has changed...forever.

Baba. My favourite 'B' word. I miss you so. We miss you so much. More than you ever thought possible.

Love forever and ever and ever,

Your devoted Betis.

EVERY ONE!

2010-05-27T01:50:00.001+05:00

GO READ HER !
Diva D

She's one of my FAVORITE blogger !!

Just for thee.

2010-05-27T00:43:00.000+05:00

Run your fingers through my soul. For once, just once, feel exactly what I feel, believe what I believe, perceive as I perceive, look, experience, examine, and for once, just once, understand.

The Way I See It # 4

2010-05-26T17:36:00.000+05:00

When someone asks you,

"when is it that you smiled the last time.?"

you should be able to reply,

"just a second ago."

Keep smiling.. Because you are worth it..

Happy Birthday, My Foreigner !

2010-05-26T00:52:00.001+05:00

Okay, I know its not 12 there, as yet. But main kia karun?! Its 12:20 am here in Pakistan already. And I want to be the first one to wish you on your big day as alway!

Happy Birthday to the most AMAZING man I've ever known in my entire life. I love you ! Always and forever, my best friend, my pillar, my utha-oer of nakhras and getter of my jokes, the one who makes everything all right with just a word. The person who's ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS there for me. The person who never complains. The person who knows how to make the best of what life has to offer. I'm SO happy that you are in my life. What would I do without you? I know I'm such an ass and do awful things at times (okay most of the times) but you know I love you right? Anyone who knows you loves you! I can say that without any doubts. C'mon its been more than 6 years.

We'll celebrate our next birthdays together :D Jalde ajaoww na yaawwr :P (yeah right you should be the one saying this) 2011 Come, already !!

Have an amazing amazing day! Couldn't call because I'm out of credits(yes like always). But I know you'll call at 12 your time! Will wish baki then.

HAPPYYYYYYYY BIRTHDAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!

FML Moment.

2010-05-24T23:58:00.000+05:00

Dear God,

WHY?

Girl talk - overheard and said ;)

2010-05-24T18:34:00.000+05:00

....Khair

Anyway......

You know...?

wow!!

i knowwww..!!

UFF...

SO annoying

ooohhh!

ayehaye :P

khair...

chalo..*sigh*

i hate him!!

i HATE HER!!!!

*grrr*

kya museebat/bakwaas hai!

anyways

khudahafiz. *runs away*

Are You Friggin Kidding Me?!?!

2010-05-24T00:42:00.001+05:00

WARNING: The following post is about something I read online today that left me sick and shaking with rage for almost the whole day. It may do the same to you. So why am I writing about it? Because we all have children at home whom we love and would do anything to protect. Because I think that we have a responsibility to each other and we need to let each other know what kind of sick crap there is out there, ready to corrupt innocent minds.

I read with absolute HORROR, in fact 'horror' doesn't even begin to describe what I'm feeling, about this video game created in Japan called RapeLay...a 3D 'rape simulator' video game where one gets to pretend to be a sexual predator and test out his 'raping skills' on a mom and her two teenage daughters!!!!!!

It has been banned in Japan...thankfully! But, unfortunately, found its way into Pakistan and India.

It freaks the shittin' daylights out of me, the world is full of bad people, freaks, paedophiles and wackos who think it's okay to create a video game where you can rape a woman and her daughters repeatedly until you break them to the point where they are willing to become your sex slaves.

Its hard to imagine the level of consciousness such people who design, manufacture and sell such appalling stuff,have.

What a shitty shitty world.

God. I am so scared.

Emph!

2010-05-22T19:11:00.000+05:00

If the world had an ass, I'd be kicking it right now. grrr.

Morning, lol

2010-05-22T05:17:00.000+05:00

Its 5:30 in the morning and I'm still up. I haven’t slept all night for the third time this week, I don’t mind. The only issue I have is being tired on the periphery the next day, and when I don’t speak everyone thinks I’m being moody. Not-speaking is an unusually beautiful thing. You sift the shit from the real stuff, become invisible in a way. Not using your voice makes your eyes bigger to see, your ears wider to listen..

P.S. No, I'm not Dark and Twisty. Emm hm.

Night

2010-05-22T04:44:00.002+05:00

Why is it so quiet? *looks here and there*. Where are the crickets? The shadows? My companions in the dark?

Un-Blindfold Me

2010-05-22T01:16:00.001+05:00

The 'good ones' are all either taken , gay , or assholes. But we still fall for them. The rest are the 'great ones', but we don't know that till its too late.You'd think we'd learn, but nooooooo, not us!
We're busy waiting for the assholes.
lol.

Why O Why?

2010-05-21T21:38:00.003+05:00

I'm sad. I'm very very very sad.Why you ask, just finished watching the two hour season finale of Grey's Anatomy. What a jaw-dropping finale. *sigh* Couldn't she (Shonda) ever do a happy season finale. Why happy things were not happening to happy people in the happy finale. Huh?

Last season Jeorge died, My poor jeorge. He was THE most entertaining and cute guy on the show. I miss him. lol yeah I do. And The Bitch almost killed MY McDreamy!! lol okay I heard you all, OUR mcdreamy, haey! Khair, he's saved, Thank God. But poor Meredith, she lost the baby. But I guess its better, infact WAY better than losing a husband. Easier said than done you say. NO! seriously ! From me its completely okay. In any case I'd always choose my husband over a baby. I know most of you would not agree but c'mon isn't he the man who's the reason you are even having one? Babies are the bonus from God. If you have one you're BLESSED! But if you don't, theres nothing to be sad about. Your lifes already complete with your other half. Waisy bhi, guys are no less than babies. lol What am I talking about :S Back to greys.

Haey!! i love love love Mark ! lol bechara doesn't get Lexie back. But hes hot he'll get someone better. khekhekhe. Cristina and Owen(i HATE this man) got back together, and so does Callie and Arizona.. yay. I love I love. lol. Wait :/ what is this? It isn't a sad ending, yeah its not. Not at all. Just a part of it was sad. But it's a happy ending!! Wah! See, I had to write it to get it all in my head. Hmm. I love how random this post is. I think I should continue being random. Suits me. heh! No? Chalo theek hai.