28^th March, 2012

Grade Six, White-Islamiat assessment, fourth checkpoint-, B*****h**** School system

(Splash bench on the Sixes floor)

After the exam when I took, or more precisely, snatched Javeria’s paper she started crying. All the girls gathered around her, giving me snappy looks. What else was I supposed to do? All I had been hearing was rules-this and rules-that for a month. Taking her paper with everybody else at the fixed time was apparently the proper way of following the rules. I left the class after patting her on the cheek and wheedling her that she’d already filled two sheets while others hadn’t even used-up half of their first.

Right outside the classroom, I ran into my sister and told her the situation. “Oh you shouldn’t have taken her paper. Just give it back and let her complete it.”

“What about the other students I took it from. They’ll want it back too.”

“Javeria’s an intelligent girl. Give it back to her only. Call her out of the class or something to complete her paper,” was my sister’s smart advice.

I was supposed to snatch exam-sheets from everybody else when time was up because they were below average students, while an exception was to be made for the already above average students. In what world does that sound sane? What contorted form of class system is being injected into these children? They’re hardly twelve years of age and they know when to use their tears, with whom to tell a lie and when to shut-the-teacher-up by misbehaving. They are so shockingly conscious of their superiorities and inferiorities and also know how to deploy them in front of a person who’s there to teach them. I remember what a loser I was as compared to them in my sixth grade. Time is bound to change but sadly enough for the coming time we are preparing a generation with the lowest morals and humanity possible. It’s been a month in this school and how these children are being reared up and what capabilities I have seen in them are shocking. There are about 27 students in each section and there are 9 sections in total. What will happen when these roaches crawl out of their nest and spread in the world? I don’t know if I want to survive till their maturity. As I would say to K, “K mai mar jana chahti hoon!!”

The nymphs scare me.

Nayee tahzeeb k ganday anday

Tuesday, 28^th March, 2012

Grade Six Red, B*****h**** School System, Walton Campus

Miss you’re from which college.

Me: GC University

Oh really? Wow. When I grow up I want to go there for my F.Sc. you know

Me: Oh please. People like you don’t go to Government College baita.

[Since the start of the class, they had been accusing me of using the “F word” and had not listened to a word of magnetic field I tried to teach them. A substitute teacher is not worthy of respect after all.]

Ha ha miss. My nana’s a brigadier. I’ll bribe my way in. What do you think?

Me: Dream on kiddo. Bribery doesn’t work at Government College.

Soch hai miss aap ki. This is Pakistan; everything works here. I know.

Me: Okie-dokie. Good for you.

If I were allowed to talk in Urdu, I would have said:

Patli pithi walay ullu k pathay, lanat hai tumharay baap per, tumhari maa per, tumharay nana per aur tumharay school per, aur Allah himat de humain is qaum ki anay waali nasal ko bardassht kernay ki!!

Enter- Choti...

Spreading the Louve.

Bhonki

Come on baby, photograph me!!

Sorry. I find it bo-o-ring.

[Whatever?]

Yawn human. Yawn.

Palak Pakora

Cuddly Curdle

Want to join the Snuggle Club?

From left to right: Ludan Miaan [formerly known as Akram bhola], Bhonki, Choti

Mojee in Green

Mojee was rejected in Red, in Green and will be rejected in yellow too. He has fat cheeks, frizzy hair and red eyes. He can't let go of Red.

Moojee in Red

Moojee is a little disgusting-looking according to the world's definition of 'disgusting.' He'll find his eyes soon, if God wills.

When it was torn, it was in tatters

Open the door and let me in.

It's cold out here,

The air is thin.

My clothes are in tatters.

My scarf is torn.

I've been in there before,

But now I'm not so sure.

Deep inside my little heart aches

Counts every moment,

Every step you take.

I hear your warm voice from hear.

See your angel face with me

Is the sky inside still the same?

Because outside,

The sky changed with every step I took;

My blood is cold,

My hands are cut.

To whom you you bid farewell,

Was a girl so pure.

The one that's within me;

Has been in the street,

Has played the game.

You loved her then.

Do you love me now?

Open the door and let me in.

[I don't expect them to though.]

Nos vamos sin equipaje by frozeninstants

Photo-deprivation

Clown by herzfield

In these darkened streets I linger,

My cloak is tattered and torn.

My existence is turning to smoke.

And look!

How these stones stare at me.

Judge me.

Wait for me to turn to ash.

__________

The first crack is there;

Now I see them move.

Slowly, Cunningly.

__________

One eyes on his face, whirls in its socket.

Some chips of stone fall down;

his mouth has an ominous curve.

A smile perhaps.

Fingers twitch, and he comes alive.

Sensing the warmth of my body.

Thick blood drools from his hungry lips.

Teeth barred.

He snarls, he pounces.

__________

My soul was inhaled.

My body was devoured.

A mirthless stone is left of it.

__________

They are still moving and will never stop.

Her mist surrounds them,

They breathe in it.

Protected by her silence.

Out in the light, their stony exterior falls apart.

And they judge her limp torso.

I see their fleshy eyes.

__________

I see their dead eyes.

__________

What Have you Engraved on my Palm

I can see myself crawling;

With broken bones,

My mouth is drooling.

I am the one in the corner.

Filth covers my hands.

Mucus, my eyes.

Never will it wear off.

I knew this would come,

with the stagnant pond

In which I was born

The chains of spirituality [and status quo]

Were clung deep in my heart.

My belly needs food,

My feet need shoes.

[I know you aren't wearing no shoes either but it is your own choice]

My hands need something lush to hold,

So let me break away;

From the ties of helplessness,

From this web of fate:

That you have engraved on my palm.

I hate to be what I am.

I don't want to be you either.

I want to be what I can be;

What I was meant to be.

Let go of my hands,

Let me be free.

Metamorphosis of the elf

Close these eyes,

Shatter these dreams,

Scratch this skin,

Hide this smile,

Hurt these senses;

Until her shadow cries.

_______________

I may be a wicked elf,

But I have my dreams.

Kill me.

Don't wring my heart.

Crush my body to its smallest piece.

Don't let my passions die.

Let me hold these colors once;

Let me see the sky.

Let me love my dreams for a moment;

Before you take my hands away.

_______________

My fingers may be stubby,

My feet may be small.

I stand upright,

I do not crawl.

_______________

My eyes refuse to accept passive tears by Agnes-Cecile

Land-of-the-unnatural

I have a cat named Choti that was adopted by my family about a year ago. She never gave birth to her own kittens, in fact, as far as I remember she was never even pregnant. Recently, we got two kittens, Bhonki and Tillo [now known as Akram paindoo] from Jhang through a friend of my mother. Choti has been annoyingly feeding the kittens since they got here. Even at the moment Choti is feeding the two idiots with the loudest sounds possible from the land-of-the-unnatural, right in front of me and on my rizayee!! grrr. :[ I wish Choti had her own kids so she would punch these two leeches in their tiny squishy faces.

Hmph.

Choti- My baby girl. <3

Bangladeshi Foooodd

I was going through some of my old photo albums and I came across these from my visit to Bangladesh in June-July, 2011. Hopefully, there's going to be travelogue on the visit Insha'Allah.

We had this fish for Lunch at BPATC, Dhaka. It was weird to see the fish staring at us while we ate but it tasted good, no doubt. The fish was mashed and mixed with daal I guess.

Departmental snacks for visitors.

Coconut and cucumber. Didn't really make sense.

This is the national fruit of Bangladesh: Jackfruit. It was something in between a mango and a watermelon. Didn't like it all.

During the fourteen days in Bangladesh I never ate this dish. Sorry! I come from Lahore and I'm not ashamed to admit that I'm a predator, in fact a kuker-ator.

At the terrace of the Vice Chancellor's residence at Jahangirnagar University, Dhaka. Laal Mirchii.

Soup.

Messiah paradox

Before tonight, the only doctors and medicine students I knew were my Phopos, Phopas and cousins and of course my dentist...[love her!!]. There is a huge number of the messiah brotherhood in my taber i.e., le famille, but I had NEVER in my life seen ass-moron-ish MBBS students as I did today on blogger. :D Funny people. I wish I could post their blog addresses here but that would be rude. There have been riots, processions, unattended patients and insensitivity to be seen on the part of doctors in Punjab. Very recently, in Punjab Institute of Cardiology, where irrespective of the people dying of cardiac diseases, the doctors couldn't hold their smelly farts and had to blow them out on the lives of people by not showing up on duties. Many similar events were seen a few days/months ago. How on Earth are these people analysed to be capable of helping the society. It's fun to see them coolly indifferent to their surroundings, not giving a 'fuck': as is mostly quoted to social conventions, being the paparazzi type and hippies during their student life, but I seriously wonder once they graduate, would they be as insensitive as they appear to be through their writings or is it just a way of venting out their academic tension.

I do pray it's the latter situation.

One of them definitely gave me a point to think and if I had not already graduated, Z and I would have spent hours dissecting her minds inside out. "Losing virginity without physical contact so you'll have only your heart to give to the loved one." Point taken as a good one but i'm still working on the technicalities of it. :P This was the only thing, which although being lewd, sounded 'sensible' among all the non-sense I read on the blogs of medicine students tonight.

Cockroach petals

Because I am so not used to tareef i.e., appreciation, I don't miss opportunities to show off. Even if it's so not pretty or worth it!

weeeee.. :D

Really nice poetry I came across on blogger.

http://21stcenturyverse.blogspot.com/2012/02/make-do-or-mend-by-fel-lennie.html

Posted by Maureen in twenty first century verse.

Mayfair

The butterfly may not be so sure,

She's nascent, blue and shyly pure,

I hang on her limp wings;

She carries me away.

They hang on to me

And pull her down.

Pull me down.

Let he go, they tell me.

Slowly, creepily they reach my knee

Up my shoulders and

And on my cheek.

I let go of her,

She let go of me.

Definition of a Moron

There are idiots like me who nag Allah to give them a job and when finally someone calls them they don't take their call because they are too lazy to get up and pick their phone. The word for such people is 'Morons.'

He scoots on it

Daddy's coolest ever Scooter!!

Waiting

This is what the utter desperation to study in the US, or more precisely at the Department of Biochemistry, University of Iowa, Iowa City, Iowa state, United State of America has done to me! After days of bullying from the examination department of my own university I finally got my transcripts verified and sent to UIowa and submitted my online application on 21st December. From that time onward, my life is a miserable wretch of echoing you'll hear from us soon, we're in the midst of review, soon and very soon. Yesterday I was told by one of the professors that they had already started interviewing the domestic candidates and were still in the midst of choosing the international applicants to be interviewed and I'll hear from them very soon. Are they just being nice and don't want to make me sad? It sounds dumb and funny but I really think they're being nice and keeping the 'fishy something' from me. :S

I want the whole wide world i.e., the new WWW, to pray for me. Not that I don't have faith in my own prayers, but still you never know..he he. Ph.D. and USA are the three lettered acronyms I desperately want..SOOOOON!! MOVE IT UIOWA!!

This is me, Not Satan

I made friends and confided to them. I confided to them about my past, my present, my future, my aims, my desires, my deepest and darkest follies and they interpreted my life and me through it. They consoled me and preached me away from sin. They were concerned and sincere and so they called my insanity, sanity. They smiled in front of me and smirked behind me. They laughed in front of me and yawned behind me. They patted my back when I was on the verge of falling into a pit. They were happy at my success, but at my back they loathed me for what I was and what I did.

I met people who wanted to kill me. I met them and tasted sincerity for the first time because those people; my enemies wanted to kill me in front of me, behind me, at my left and at my right. They hated me whether I was sane or insane. They loathed me whether I was beautiful or ugly. I met and I learned but still I yearned for more. To see more of God’s most perfect piece of art. From inside and outside. Each time I met someone new I made a fresh discovery, a fresh start.

I learned what relationships are. What they mean and what they bring. It is advised to keep friends close but enemies closer. The reasons for the generation of this concept might be different but what my experience has taught me is that knowing your enemies better brings consolation, a consolation that there is someone that accepts you as you are. They don’t expect you to pretend or wear a disguise. In the famous cartoon series Phineas and Ferb, Perry and Dr. Doofenshmirtz, the arch enemies appeared to be the gloomiest when the nemesis Perry, hurt by the swindling of Dr. Evil refuses to be his nemesis anymore leaving Dr. Evil dejected and unhappy with a new rival. The concept of holding your enemies precious appears to be absurd but a comparison of friends and enemy often brings out a thought. The originality in the relationship between us and our enemies is way greater than between friends and us. Probably that is the reason why we often lose track of friends but never let our enemies leave our heart barren.

Sedimentation

When I made this, my brain was fairly empty and my mind was completely absent from this world, both physically and spiritually. Not that my mind has a physical form.

Wedding deprivation

Missing one of your best friend's wedding is something I recently discovered to be an event which could make a dheet i.e., obstinate person like me regret her idiocy; and not for the sake of missing the tasty chicken curry and rice so conventional in Lahori shadis. When F called me a few days prior to her wedding I was fully excited until the faces of my nemesis, who'd be attending the wedding too, came floating by. I did my best to push them away behind my pretty brown lehnga that I was supposed to wear, but the obstinacy!! Not attending F's shadi had been my own decision but at the appointed time while I played Rayman at my home, I imagined her on that stage smiling in a dress whose color was supposed to be surprise. Although, I think she did tell me the color. But I had forgotten it altogether. All I could think of was if she missed me or not. Did she once try to find me in the crowd. Such questions are supposed to be rhetorical but in the desperation of that lonesome time I answered them myself. I was dead sure she was least bothered about anyone at the occasion. While washing the dishes I cursed my nemesis and then my idiocy, and then my obstinacy and again my idiocy. I had been such an idiot.

She's going to get married only once, and I have graciously deprived myself of the prestige of seeing her pictures. May Allah bless F with the happiest life possible [Ameen], but whattay moron i've been.

Lesson learnt: Never miss a friend's wedding, no matter whattttt. It's painful to know everyone's there and enjoying. They're going to talk about it whenever everyone gathers and you will be the idiot who doesn't know anything because they were too dumb-ass when they shouldn't have been so.

In 2012 people will judge you through the number of text messages you send them. Sad but true. Or maybe i'm the only one going through this sad turmoil.
Grimm's fairy tales has been a good companion. Long live QiOO mobile at project gutenberg or whatever it is!