The Free Spirit

Alive, if not kicking!

2011-02-27T05:43:00.000-08:00

Finally the need to write is beginning to stir up again. It has been awfully long time since I felt the compulsion to sign into this blog and type something up. Here and there I began a few posts, but they remain incomplete, waiting to meet a conclusion of sorts, but nothing has happened so far.
Perhaps it was writer's block or the fact that I am one of the most mentally restive people I know, (so much so that I have self-diagnosed myself with Adult ADD) or maybe my mental processor had so much information to assimilate that instead it decided to just go into hibernation. It’s not like I didn’t have blog-worthy stuff happen to me or come into my observation, just none of it made me want to sign into the blog and type about it.

Anyway I am here and a few things happened since I last made the rounds of the web –sphere. Made a Trip to Washington DC and a second trip to one of my favorite cities in America - Miami (since that’s the closest place to Karachi), worked at least a 100 12+hours days at DIRECTV (which is where I am consulting at the moment), aggregated yet another year of life to my age, watched M tie the knot, missed yet another wedding, saw couple of dear friends take a step towards parenthood, oh and the big one was getting past the ALIEN status and becoming a Permanent resident of these United States. There is a whole lot to talk about and discuss, but it is really late in the night or I should say really early in the morning and I am literally falling asleep as I type. The only reason I am forcing myself to finish this particular post is so that I won’t have yet another sad looking incomplete post sitting in my account, waiting to reach a climax.

So I am off now but hopefully I will be a little more consistent and would be able to breathe some life into this nearly dead blog. I need to come up with some better ideas.

Reality of my tele world

2010-10-30T01:02:00.000-07:00

Never ever ever ever watching project runway again. I barely watch any of the reality shows let alone comment on them but this season it was horrribbbbleee. The worst kind of designer won...boringgg. Since the show moved to lifetime it has become one big melodrama of sorts like a lifetime movie and the tears never ever stopped flowing this season. These designers made me look like a Dallas cowboy cheerleader during a perpetual football game. I had no real favorites and the one person who showed any kind of promise was not picked the winner. I was getting bored by this crap show and now tonight made it easier for me to ween away from my 6 year long addiction. Heidi has become a total bitch, Michael Kors' already questionable design taste that was swirling in the toilet bowl actually got completely flushed down and Nina Garcia is suddenly on the look out for a designer that would design for older women and voted off a designer since his clothes were too focused on the younger women?? Hellooo Nina that's what Chicos is for. They voted for the collection that was made completely out of a potty-colored printed material.
OK you might be thinking what happened to her? She used to be smart and so sophisticated (ahem ahem), and not in a million years would I have guessed her to be into any kind of reality TV then how come she is getting so worked up over a *choke*... Design competition show?
Well the truth may come as a shock to you but I am not as sophisticated as I may appear...I know I know it is hard to believe, but its the truth. I like so many regular folks in this world watch........reality TV!!! There, now you know .
Before you start judging me and packing up your bags to move to greener blogs, its not as bad as you think. I am not hooked on to some regional version of Real Housewives or to watching the desperate girls/boys move into a house in hopes of getting it on with Bret Michaels/Tilla Tequila or Bachelor/Bachelorette, and I definitely do not open the Tele to get a glimpse of 'The Situation', but I do need a regular dose of the dancing stars, designing wannabes, shrinking fatties and skanky top model hopefuls. Although, I will be lying if I didn't admit to sitting through a few episodes of the Kardashians, Celebrity Rehab (No, I am not talking about Rodeo Drive) and Kate Gosselin's litter box. And who doesnt like Ty Pennington givin a lil somthin somethin to the really worthy and 'moving that bus'. Not to mention the TLC withdrawal I am dealing with...no 'What not to wear' in 6 months!!! Other than that, I also look down at the regular onslaught of real drama shoved in the faces of all TV watchers.
Now I know most readers of mine are too Urbane (Yes, you can read pretentious if you want) to know most of these shows but if you did you would know that these shows are mostly about personal growth and improvement and they give us hope and inspiration. OK I am making shit up now but they are not that bad and some of them are actually quite touching..ummm actually only Ty's show is a bit touching rest is all effing melodrama.
Anyway the point is that with demise of cable in my life - I refuse to pay for TV anymore...even though I now work for one of the service provider - I no longer have most of these shows in my life. And even though I can still watch ANTM over the net, I gave up on it a while back once Tyra discovered she can actually be a complete Narcissistic, self adulatory bitch and it became toooo much watching her in those God awful outfits 'smizing' at everyone...ughhhh. And now that Project Runway has also disgusted me in this manner today, I am left with only one source to fulfill all my reality entertainment needs...and that too has seemingly been taken over by Sarah Palin's plasticy teenage daughter whose Frankenstein like dancing is a total atrocity, yet the tea party crazies keep voting for her....just like they vote for her Moronic Momma. I tell you if she continues to stay on DWTS I will have no choice but to abandon this realm of entertainment altogether. *shudders at the thought*.
So and readers now that you know my deep dark secrets and my problem with entertainment abuse, I hope you will overlook this one tiny bump in my near perfect existence of sophistication. Readers? Readers?? Where did they go? Hmmmmmm!! I guess I never really had any and thats why I can vent here in the irst place. Oh well!!
Adieu Project Runway, may you rest in peace. For me Mondo is the real winner. And somebody pleaseeeeeeeee remove Bristol the Pistol from in front of the camera...I am done with her and if God forbid her mom ever becomes the president...I am moving to Rwanda.
Enough for now!

I do or i don'ts?

2010-10-14T16:08:00.000-07:00

When do you know a relationship is over? When do you know that you have given it your all and staying any longer would just damage you and your partner as a person and now it’s time to just move on? How do you know when to give up?

I was brought up in a culture where people married for life and under no circumstances a thought of moving on ever occurred to either partner, even if they knew it was pointless and even if they had evidently given up. They stayed together, no matter what. They had families to think about and children and society. Besides in a world defined by self-sacrifice, who ever thought about his or her own self? That was simply unacceptable; in fact it was downright selfish. And even if someone realized the adverseness and futility of their situation, they would not dare walk out for fear of becoming a social outcast and be doomed to a life of loneliness, rejection and virtual isolation. People judged and were judged for the very intimate and personal actions and decisions they made. I have seen and known hordes of people, aunts, uncles, cousins and friends, who have nothing in common with their spouses and are not even friends let alone lovers but are sentenced to a life of unwanted, undesired companionship.

On the contrary I now live in a world where people marry for love and love alone. Of course there are few who marry for money but I shall exclude them from this discussion since that can be deemed to be more of a business transaction and not necessarily a marriage. So people here in the west marry for love and love alone, not for society or parents or any of the other reasons, or at least that’s what they claim. Regardless of the reasons behind the union, the option of breaking up is always open. It is acceptable, even normal since 40 – 50% of the unions end in spouses parting their ways; they are not under scrutiny for their actions as much as their eastern counterparts. So in the absence of this societal pressure, it is much easier to be honest and objective about the future of a relationship. There is no do or die involved nothing to keep the couple intact after the departure of love, passion and intimacy. Life is too short right? So why waste it to salvage a deadbeat or even only a trying situation and instead just move on.

To me these are the two extremes and like any other situation between two extremes lays the middle path, which perhaps is probably the most logical and feasible. Are we too quick to judge and give up on something or are we really just trying to drag a dead horse across the finish line? How do we decide which is which and how do we decide it’s time to give up or its time to dig in your heels and fight for the remnants of the original beautiful and promising companionship?
To me the answer lies in finding out, what do I want from myself at this stage in my life? What are my priorities? How is life different from when we had started this journey? How has she/he changed? How have I? Do we still match up or can work to match up? Do we want the same things? How much have we damaged each other? Can we get past the hurt? Are we still a team? Are we even friends? And then asking some of the more obvious questions like can I actually stand this person without him/her creeping me out or without me feeling the need to correct this person or change him/her or can I actually ignore the obvious flaws and can look past them to see what I saw Day 1 or Day 15? What not to see is does this person still electrifies my world, gives me butterflies in the tummy or send tingles down my spine as to me those will always go away. It doesn’t matter if you are married or not, you have kids or not, been with each other 5 months or 5 years, it is never too late to start all over again; if it really does suck, you can actually open the door and walk out. But let’s be honest, if you are really looking for a long-term relationship all these questions will eventually become relevant, almost always and almost always you will have similar issues and problems, so giving up in haste, will that actually make your life better or will it mean that you will go through life wondering and regretting and repeatedly loosing what can be a lifelong companionship? Ask these questions, seek the answers, the solutions, be honest, estimate the damage, expect less, and accept more. And if after all this analysis it still sucks and you just don’t want to deal with this anymore, then you know, it’s time to declare bankruptcy and moving on to the supposedly greener pastures.

Serenity NOW

2010-10-06T17:25:00.000-07:00

I suck at life when I am the perfectionist, control freak with high OCD tendencies and sky high gargantuan expectations. I obsess incessantly, I judge and stress and make a mess of things that are actually going well in my life. On the other hand when I am my sane self, truly taking things as they are and only focusing on what I can change, then the positive waves I radiate create a serene milieu for me to grow in and get blessed with all that is good, in the right amount and at the right time.
This reminds me of the famous Serenity Prayer that probably should become the mantra of my life, the positive affirmation that I should recite to myself in the bathroom mirror every morning as I shine my pearly white.
God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.
Living one day at a time;
Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;
Taking, as He did, this sinful world
as it is,
not as I would have it;
Trusting that He will make all things right
if I surrender to His Will;
That I may be reasonably happy in this life and supremely happy with Him
Forever in the next.
Amen.

Love thy Neighbor....but wat about the roommates :)

2010-08-19T13:34:00.000-07:00

This month marks the 6th year anniversary of my move to these United States of America and what incredible 6 years they have been, marked with the many highs and lows, happy occasions and sad ones, the many friends I have made, the many places I have visited and lived in and the many many roommates I have shared those places with. Roommates? You know, now that I look back I realise that during my time here I have really had a lot of roommates, a lot of interesting roommates with a wide array of personalities and quirks. Even though I got along with most of them, some of them made more of a mark than others. Some I have kept in touch with, some became dear friends, while some just disappeared into the abyss of life where most people we encounter in this world disappear into.

So maybe a good way to mark this anniversary would be to go through the list of people I have shared portions of these 6 years with, while sharing a home. Hmmm so lets see...

The ideal Roommate: After living with my sister for three months, I moved in with SB. SB became the yardstick for roommates against which all future roommates are measured. She was extremely clean, polite and very caring. She was also very disciplined and cultured and followed a such a strict routine that it sometimes proved quite...well, annoying. She also lighted incense for Sri Ganesh each morning, which filled the room with smoke, which in turn ensured that I wake up each morning coughing. I cant complain too much about it though since that always made me get up for work on time. SB and I shared a lot and became a family...she is still a dear friend :)
The sad SIKH girl: N came in my life through SB when we decided we needed a third roommate. The girl was infuriating to say the least. I mean don't get me wrong, she was a good roommate and all but the girl whined ALL THE TIME...she was eternally homesick and cried for her mummy...literally. I mean dude seriously...just go home. Then when she wasn't crying, she was whining about how hard she was working and how her grades were not good enough. She had made me her personal councillor like so many after her. She eventually moved out without giving us notice because our apt was 4 blocks from the campus (I cant walk this much..she said). I think we scared her off. She eventually got married to the guy she insisted was her friend even though she cooled off his hot food in the freezer LOL!
The long haired Slob: When I say Long Haired I mean really really long. Even today thinking about L gives me nausea. The stint was brief and it was enough. I had been nominated by SB to tell her to move out. I was saved the confrontation when Broadcom offered her an internship and she moved out. Pheww.. Ewww
The great 'M': M came in my life and nothing remained the same after that. Not me, not my life, not SB. I agreed to be her roommate over the phone, she just had so much energy LOL. She of course has now become one of my best friends but man living with her was hard. Don't get me wrong, she was a whole lot of fun, but there were definite 'trying times'. The person is a ball of energy when she comes out of the bed, me? not so much. There was some serious singing, jumping, dancing, bhajan listening and paratha making going on every morning and all I wanted to do was come out of my room and shoot her. Talk about HYPER...lol. But we learnt to co-exist (she cooked and I cleaned) and in the process we became will & grace of the straight female world.
A & RA: These two girls shared the room with M one after the other. A came first and then RA. RA was cool A wasn't, RA was never home, A was. RA was spiritual, A was religious. RA loved Guruji, A thought he should convert before she replied to his Salaam, M liked RA, M didn't like A, A made M homeless when her boyfriend visited, RA, didn't. They are both married now and far away from our lives.
The guju from lala land: B came in our lives because the president of the Indian Student Org thought our flat was an ashram, which can be used to provide temporary accommodation to newly arrived Indian students. She was a character like no other, which is why she remains so fresh in our memories after all these years. Talk about CLUELESS lol
The lil One: RR was a roommate, coworker, friend, little sister, confidant, bad driver all rolled into one. She was a fellow contractor and we shared an apartment in the warm confines of Simi Valley. We drove to work together, we ate together, we laughed together and drove up and down I5 to see our BFs together. She is now one of my dearest friends. The funnest roommate ever. Still miss her!!
The Aussie: The roommate who offered me chips while I was fasting, repeatedly :) We worked together and lived together and RR and I spent most of my time trying to make her laugh just to hear her say "you both are crazy". She is one of the nicest people I know...great one. Of course her boyfriend provided us with ample drama, with 2:00 am phone calls to me, and a random storming of our house when the Aussie went MIA. But they both stood by me through my calf muscle rupture and car accident.
The Indian Hosepipe i mean housewife: How can I forget the woman with the shrillest voice ever ( I kid you not), the sub-zero common sense and childlike mannerisms and behavior. Oh how I hated being her roommate and tolerated her because of her awfully decent husband. They moved in with RR and me after Aussie lost the project. They were the four most infuriating yet entertaining months of our lives. She kept the windows shut, she turned the heater up, she cooked with the most horrid spices all day long...in LA...so when we came home it was like entering an oven, a tandoori oven. At night it was like sleeping in a sauna. Ughhh....horrible horrible horrible...she wins the award for the worst roommate ever. Sorry, but she does lil one, dont roll your eyes.
The Christian: IN Seattle, after a brief stint of living by myself for 6 months, I moved in with SN. She has been mentioned in an old post . It was more or less an amiable break. Now we communicate with an occasional 'merry Christmas' text.
The Girl who never was: MS was a sweetheart, one of the nicest and prettiest girls I have met. She also proved to be one of the best roommates I have had, mainly because she was never home. And the few nights she was we got along famously. If I had stayed in Seattle, I would have continued to live with her :)
Pooja: Until now I have skipped the many many people i have shared the company accommodations with, between projects, but I have to mention Pooja...cause if I don't she would never let me hear the end of it. I had a fun bench time with her, hanging out at Starbucks, watching friends, cribbing and bitching about anyone and everyone. And since she fed me, she officially enters the greatest roommates ever hall of fame, behind SB, M and lil one. She is one person who can bitch as much if not more than me lol. I have been working on her to move in with me but she hates the LA commute...but I will keep trying.
Mary: Cut to San Diego. Living with Mary was like living in the 80s. Her house, her clothes, her furniture, everything screamed 80s. It only lasted a month due to the spider infestation.
The couple I broke up: OK I didn't break them up literally, but my presence usually expedites such processes. If you don't believe me then ask 80% of the people mentioned above. J is good looking, athletic and loves to surf, he is a chilled out Californian dude. T is a smart woman, too smart for her own good, perpetually in a cynical and bitter state of mind. They were together for 2 years but they wanted different things. One night T talks to me about life, relationships and kids. The next night she storms out of the house never to come back, saying if he loves me he will have kids with me. Aaaaa...no!! So then I am stuck living with a dude, which by the way was great. He was a sweetheart but it got too expensive and I had to move out.
The Gay Couple: So during my brief stint in San Diego I move thrice and end up in a cute house with a lesbian/bi couple, their daughter, their Portuguese water dog and a girl J. It was definitely the most crowded place I had lived in but it was also the best. They cooked for me, every day. We watched movies, chatted and laughed all night long. They were so warm and hospitable, too bad didn't last long. But good things rarely do.
The Pitt Bull lady: And finally, my current roommate. The lady with as many problems as Pakistan. I kid you not and as much as my heart goes out to her, I can not live in a unclean, cluttered house. The place sticks. I moved in I was desperate and the place is 5 mins from work, but I cant do this. The spiders, the mosquitoes, the Pitt bull, the plumbing problems. I want out.

So there you go, my many many roommates, the list would be longer and more boring had I mentioned each and every one of them so I skipped. But looking back I realise, it has not been that bad. My nomadic life has allowed me to meet and befriend some great people and generally I cant complain. But it is not over yet so I cannot really pass a final judgement. We do not want to jinx it now do we...

Another Home...another potential move

2010-08-19T13:08:00.000-07:00

So, currently I am in an odd living situation. I mean I like the place but then I don't really like the place. Its cheap and its convenient (a 5 mins commute in Los Angeles, literally...what more can one ask for), fairly centrally located, almost next door to the LAX and we all know that a Southwest 737 is my second home, but its messy, really messy and it stinks (It literally stinks), and it has spiders who make me all itchy, and my face was eaten by some crazy ass American mosquitoes last night who apparently don't know that u don't bite a human face...I look like a person with chicken pox), AND it comes with the Pitt bull. The house is old from the fifties and so of course it has plumbing issues. Things are falling apart in there, including...my roommate.
I know I know anyone reading this would ask then why the hell are you still living there, and it is a fair question, but finding housing in LA, not as easy as you would think. Unless off course you are willing to spend half your income. And btw craigslist, please do something about the shitload of scams on your site, I am SICK of it. Oh well, back to the apartment hunting..this was supposed to be temporary anyway....Sighhh
I just realised I sigh an awful lot on this blog...I even have post with a sigh in a title

I Fast for spritual Reasons

2010-08-14T01:48:00.000-07:00

So the blessed month of Ramadan is here, the month when it is said that Allah opens the gates of heaven and showers his many blessings on the believers who show their gratitude and love for their maker by sacrificing their comfort and the luxury of food and drink and exercising self restraint and discipline of the higher kind. It is a very different kind of experience, quite a spiritual one actually, because the actual self sacrifice itself is not really a physical or psychological deliberation as one might think but rather an act that is driven from within the soul. It does not take some super human power, where you are constantly fighting hunger pangs or trying to distract yourself to keep from thinking about food. It is actually pretty effortless.

Don't get me wrong, it definitely has its own share of challenges. After all you are without food or drink of any kind for the better part of the day, but after a week of adjustment, you get back into the rhythm of fasting. You no longer feel light-headed, you can keep talking past the late afternoon prayers (Asar), you no longer have the urge to go to sleep at the drop of the hat, you no longer miss your after lunch cup of coffee and most of all you start feeling completely in control of your body and mind.
So being here in the US, Ramadan and fasting while fun at times, pose some different kind of challenges, In Pakistan, Ramadan comes with its own wonderful Ramadan school and office timings, in the US, no such luck. You still work the long hours and still have to give your 100% because nobody gets what you feel and nobody really cares since they think you are crazy for doing what you are doing. Also, people around you eat all the time (very loudly as well but i think that bothers me anyway fasting or no fasting :)), invite you to office parties and lunches, offer you food and then do a thesis on what is Ramadan and how one can survive without food (hey Buddha and Gandhi did it without break and they lived long full lives). This second challenge is less of a bother to me. Another challenge which is probably more of a personal nature is that as the day progresses and my level of energy goes down, my capacity to speak English in a fluent manner also shrinks, so much so that by 6 o' clock all I can really do is nod or shake my head and catch myself saying Urdu words like 'nahi', 'laikin', 'aur' LOL. And of course the worst part of Ramadan in US, no one to wake me up and feed me before dawn and no one to share the food with at sun down. No one who really gets the importance of all this, unless I am at my sister's and then I am not so homesick anymore.
But it can be fun too. I like explaining the Muslim way of fasting to people and watching the general majority getting all freaked out and looking at me like i am nuts, just because I just told them no food, water or anything from dawn to dusk. How can not eating or drinking some 12 - 15 hours can be that astounding for people? I don't get that? Maybe because I have done this from the age of 8 and so I know what to expect, or I don't know what. They don't get Ramadan and I don't get their reaction.
So what is the big deal about Ramadan and fasting anyway? Well think of it like our diwaali or Christmas season. It is about the spirit of giving and sharing and having long family dinners and get-together. It is also about acknowledging the many blessings we already have in our lives and sharing some of that with the less fortunate people around us. It also rejuvenates the faith of the people, rebuilding them spiritually and making the connection between God and human that much more stronger.
And now it is also about the many memories of the Ramadan and Eid past, when we were all younger and at home, enjoying the season with our family and friends. How I long for my Grandmother's parathas at sehari and for my mom's fruit chaat and pakoras at iftaar and for all the eidee that we collected from our elders on Eid day and spent it all on kulfi and candy, and the shopping on Chand Raat, the night before Eid for bangles and Henna. It all seems so long ago yet still so fresh in my mind. Sighhh!!
But then I may not have people to share it with but in a way it has now become more about the spiritual experience than anything else. In this crazy world where day by day things seem to take control of themselves and I end up feeling so helpless and as I give away tiny pieces of myself for one reason or the other to work, to this new society, to the people around me willingly or unwillingly, I hold on to a very important part of me that perhaps contributes to the essence of who I am and I take some of the control back, if only for a month but its effect stays with me for the rest of the year.
Ramadan Kareem everyone!!

A New Chapter

2010-08-06T11:55:00.000-07:00

I have a problem, a huge one at that. I can only write when I am sad, depressed or bored, in other words when I am at work. So although this blog is not dead, the general lack of activity in the recent months might give that impression, which is owed to my generally volatile work situation. I seriously have missed blogging, coming up with some tongue in the cheek funny and smart post (like this blog is full of them heheh), always looking for something blog-worthy, thinking about issues and finding out how you truly feel about them, the flowing of the creative juices, which makes you feel that your dream of becoming a writer might actually come true one day. Sighhh!! I just might have to hold down a job for a significant period of time just so I can breathe in some new life into this blog, which is now almost near its extinction.
So what have I been up to and what changes have transpired in my life? Well on the surface not a whole lot has changed but then some. After a not so pleasant San Diegan expedition I made the seven hour trip back North, my virtual walk of shame :). Even though it sucked, deep down I was so relieved to be out of that shithole. But as I drove I was feeling the usual anxiety that I feel when I am headed to serve the unemployment sentence of indefinite time on bench and I geared up to bear my certain dive into depression. But upon my arrival in the Bay Area, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that I had overnight turned into my old 20 something carefree self again and have acquired the same old devil may care, I-might-die-tomorrow-so-let’s- party-today attitude. And I had the best time ever. Now I didn’t exactly go bar hopping every night or starred in the Girls gone wild video and such, but I did enjoy my time off, waking up late with my three cute boyfriends around me, hanging out with my favorite girls, working out, watching movies, going through the 6 seasons of ‘How I met your mother’ and just good old chilling. With the stress free environment that I created for myself (by not stressing outJ) things worked out better than ever and I got back on project in the good old City of Angels in a matter of a month. That in my wonderful world of contracting is a perfect strike. No amount of crying, whining and stressing had accomplished this in my last three visits to the dreaded bench. Took me forever and made me unbearable for the people around me (or should I say person…you know who you are: P).
So as I drove back down south on the droning I-5, I pondered over what had transpired within the sub-conscious realms of my brain that had resulted in this revived optimistic outlook on life. And the answer is…I am not sure. It may have been just that I had reached the lowest point I can allow my spirits to reach or perhaps I was acting against my nature these past 3 and a half years and my mind just had had about enough. Or maybe I had finally figured out that the negativity that I create around myself only attracts negative energy. Or possibly I decided to finally just let it go and recognize this whole process for what it really is…a means to earn a living, and not allow it to define every other aspect of my life; like all other phases of life this too shall cease to exist.
We all have our fears, the more we fight them, the bigger they get and the more we obsess over them the larger a part of reality they become. We can never be in total control and charge of our lives, but we can control our minds, in fact that is the only thing we can ever fully conquer. Happiness, contentment and peace all come from within and can be attained if we can take control of our minds. Only then we can rationalize our ever looming demons and fears, let go of our past negatives and fill ourselves with the positivity that will built the faith that the forces of nature, the universe or God whichever we believe in will take care of our tomorrows and that will allow us to fully appreciate and live out our todays. It’s a theory, but it’s a one that can truly change our lives. I have already started the implementation :)

If I can just sigh

2010-05-04T10:12:00.000-07:00

So the haul at San Diego was expected to be long but it has been abruptly cut short thanks to the company's ridiculously crazy structure and expectations and my sudden absence of comprehension of anything and everything related to this company and lack of motivation to even try beyond a point. All five months I have felt I have been running against a wall, trying to move it and get to the other side while the people who are supposed to help me just sit, watch and judge, not telling me anything - conceited bastards. After working 60 hours every week for three weeks they come up with things like the document does not have enough details and when I ask what more would you like to see, they say things like go in the system learn and figure out and by the time I do so my manager tells me I am taking a long time. And maybe I did, I don't know. I just feel low, I feel I failed and I don't like it. I have mentioned I hate not getting things and they are not giving me the chance. Sighhh!! Oh and the funny part is the feedback never came directly, it always came from my manager. And then I call and setup meetings and they just don't show up, no phone call, no email nothing. I am just speechless. The QA lead on my project had said long before I started experiencing all this that the technical managers are very stingy with information and act extremely self- entitled and so new people have a horrific time working with them so good luck. Now I know what he meant. I have never felt this lost at my work place, never, not even when I was teaching Shakespeare to my seventh graders or I was using a fax machine for the first time or when I was a cashier at burger king throughout my first Ramadan in the US. Sighhh My manager said I am a great person and no doubt a great analyst but somehow my skill set and the way the company works just don't match, and she wished she could keep me, and that its mostly them and not me. Oh my God, that's like my first break up all over again. Its not you, its me shit. Right!!! I just realised this is the first time I am leaving a project midway or rather being asked to leave midway...I hate it hate it hate it hate ittttt. UGHHHHHH
I am a contractor/temp/consultant/contingent labor so it is expected that I will not be staying at a company forever and sooner or later the project ends and so does my time at the company, but I will never get used to hearing "I have some not so good news, we will not be renewing your contract." I didn't like it when it happened after 6 months, didn't like it when it happened after 15 months and sure as hell didn't like it this time. Pooja thinks they do like me which is why they gave me a month's notice so I can look for a new project, otherwise contractors get just a day's notice. Been there!!
So in a month's time I will be off to another adventure...wherever life takes me next, I will be ready, reluctant but ready....as always.
Time for another SIGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
Oh for the ever panicking readers of my blog (as if I have tons LOL), the ones who have no idea what I do for a living, I still have a job, just no project and eventually no income till I find another project, so worry not :)

Hotel California

2010-04-28T10:31:00.000-07:00

The place is devoid of a lot of things but beauty is not one of them. The people may not be as pure as one desires them to be but the clear blue skies and the almost lyrical expansive layers of the majestic ocean more than make up for it.

You can sit at the highest point of the Torrey Pines and observe the setting sun sink deeper and deeper into the colossal depths of the ocean like a giant ball of fire, creating hues of amethyst and amber all across the overshadowing sky, casting the last of its golden-red rays across the swelling water that extinguishes the sun's burning existence, bringing the day to an end. As you sit and witness this extraordinary sight, you feel spiritually alleviated, a force bigger than everything else taking root in the very core of your being and all else in comparison just melting away, all the worries, the problems, the real-world induced pain and heartache seemingly eased. Pre-existing faith anew, you close your eyes and breath in the essence of this natural delight and you experience a change in you as if you suddenly control your life, your fate. Holding on to that feeling, that sense of pure and absolutely alive existence you are more rested, more yourself than you are in your entire day living your life, being with people, doing your work.
This to me is the spirit of this place I now call home.

La Jolla at Sunset - without touchups :)

Random...very random

2010-04-26T11:36:00.000-07:00

I have a problem...

with people who like to sit at the light even when it has turned green. I mean Helloo??? Move your stupid ASS!!!
with people who think its okay to bring bag full of food to a movie theatre and then chomp loudly throughout the movie...in my ear.
with people who eat loudly, period. You guys are adults, haven't you figured it out yet...CLOSE your mouth when you eat...humans not dogs remember??
with people at abc only airing a new episode of greys anatomy once a month.
with people who take an enormous amount of time at the checkout counters
with sales clerks at the checkout counter who think it appropriate to have loooooong conversations with EVERY SINGLE customer...are you kidding me?
with people at customer service who cannot speak English and who cannot understand you or make you understand anything...Note to walmart: time to upgrade your workforce phuaaaaleeese No Habla espaniol or Mandarin or Vietnamese for that matter.
with people who fwd chain emails..you know the ones with some religious, medical or moral connotation and that prophesize the doom of your existence and good fortune in the instance that you do not fwd the email to 5/6/7/8/6 or 20 of your friends. Right!!! So who died and made you the moral/religious/social police of the worldwide web?
with the people at my work:(
with the people who are making the Old Navy ads these days...have you seen the nonsensical crap these people are churning out? Enough with the retardedness (not really a word) already.
with the people who send 'exciting business opportunity' emails or text messages or voicemails, after you were stupid enough to be nice and friendly towards them deeming them as innocent fellow Desis. What a quick star way to loose friends and alienate people.
with men in general and a few in particular.
with desi people who refuse to grow up with time and still rigidly hold on to the ideas, theories and stereotypes that they were brought up with. In case you haven't figured out yet, you can be very annoying. These stereotypes apply to but are not limited to Women, money, life, parents, career, racial groups, ethnic groups, religion, politics, ideologies.
with American teenage girls. Build yourself some self-respect, stop dressing so old and selling yourself so cheaply to guys and enough with the crazy hormone induced, mating call like screaming.
with having to move every 3-6 months due to one reason or the other
with my inability to cook for myself every day, i am so not cut out to be typical desi housewife...thank God my first love didn't work out *shudder*
What??? number 17 already....hmmmm. I was just getting started :(
with my having so many problems, as K says it Issues In my Tissues

Sighhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

And so I grow some more

2010-04-21T09:37:00.000-07:00

I like to be in control, I like to feel that I have a full understanding and grasp of things at all times. And I want to know where I am and where will I go from here. That is my comfort zone, the known, the regular, the straight forward. When things start to appear overwhelming, larger than life, or beyond the realm of my understanding and control, I start to freak out and take a complete reverse on whatever progress I have made and become mentally paralyzed. I can actually feel a mental block appear out of nowhere and wedge itself between me and whatever it is that I am supposed to achieve or understand. These mental blocks, these sketchy areas become my fears, my nemesis. This happened in 11th grade advanced mathematics and calculus class, it happened when I hit a plateau while trying to loose weight, it is happening at work right now (sigh), and it happened when I went through my very first break-up. I feel disappointed by all the things I did half-way and left them because they became overwhelming and made me loose interest. I am disappointed that I had to be nudged, pushed and wrestled into facing or perhaps overcoming my fears, making me think that I am perhaps not strong enough to do it on my own.

My earliest mental block came at the age of 6 or 7, I am not sure. My father took me to the swimming pool with my siblings and started to teach me how to swim. He wanted me to lay down on his hands and put my head back in the water and let go. I don't remember it but I am sure I must have thought, are you bloody kidding me? What I do remember is completely freaking out, screaming, kicking and yelling and of course my personal best, crying. Everyone at the pool stopped what they were doing to become the audience of my very own Greek Tragedy. I don't remember what Papa was saying, but I am sure he tried to calm me down, but I kept kicking him, until he finally threw me out of the water and asked me to go sit in the kiddie shallow pool. I remember feeling relieved, humiliated but relieved. I wanted to learn, I really loved the water but it was too much to ask, letting go, loosing control, entering the unknown. SO I was relieved to be in my shallow kiddie pool with the 4 year olds. I gave up, I had control but I was sad. Since then other people tried to teach me how to swim, people who knew I wanted to, people whom I told how much I love it, but they all failed. And after a near drowning, my fears were confirmed, this thing is not for me, I am not strong enough and tried to make peace with it.

Over the years my control issues have worsened and it has became harder to get over the mental blocks that I set for myself. I hate the fear of unknown but I have no idea how to let go and just relax and enjoy the moment. I hate not understanding and not knowing stuff, even though I keep telling myself, no one human being is good at everything or knows everything. It is impossible. But of course the world of fears has no room for logic and reality.

But a few weeks ago, some thing happened, not in my life but in the life of someone close to me and I suddenly realised how exhausting this thing has become, this need to be in control, to be aware of everything, yet constantly live in fears and what a huge contrast this obsession is within itself. We all have contrasts in our personalities, some conflict in who we are consciously as opposed to sub-consciously. But it is too much baggage wouldn't you say? Would it be easier and freeing, without it?

So, what did I do? Well, I finally let go of the ledge, and I embraced the unknown. I learned how to swim. In just two days I overcame an almost three decades old fear and by doing so I overcame the biggest of all my mental blocks, the hardest and the most long lasting one. And the feeling compares to no other. I overcame a fear not because anyone forced me to, or nudged me into or because I had no other choice. I did it all on my own, because I wanted to not because I had to. I freed myself of something that had been a larger than life obstacle and which had cemented in my mind that I am not strong enough. This may not be the first time I have overcome something, but this definitely took the most courage and effort and that makes it that much more special.

And yes, it makes it easy and yes it has freed me of unneeded negativity in my life. That's what our fears are aren't they? unneeded, unwanted negativity. If I have no faith in me, in the path I have chosen I will forever be afraid of the unknown. But if I have trust in my own self, in who I am then no matter how low I have gone, or how hard the things are, I will overcome anything. My breakthrough moment came when my instructor asked me to float and pushed me underwater to the floor of the pool, I remained calm, patient and relaxed and sure enough my body slowly moved up and reached the surface.

Lessons learned:

Live in the moment
Let go
Free yourself of fears
Have faith in what you know, feel and believe
Be strong, calm and patient and you will always reach the surface, no matter how low you are

I am in the big people pool and I am floating and I am no longer sad :)

PING!!!

2010-04-20T16:36:00.001-07:00

I chat with M
M is busy
I decide to bug M
I type 'do you love me?' and hit send.
I realise M has not received the message.
The message is sent to some guy
A guy I haven't talked to in 3 years.
Not talked to him since graduation.
we went to school together.
I froze and seemingly he froze.
I type OMG
He types ROFL
I type wrong window
He types ROFL
I stop typing
He types in that case I do
I recover and type hehehe
He types still LOL
Then we catch up.
Typical desi catching up, you single yes, me too, yayy, parents giving a hard time, i like freedom, peer pressure, friends changing diapers (their kids hopefully) left right center, feeling anxious, feeling left out, still stuck working in IT, me too, yaar, yeah too bad.
I lecture him about how marriage will be the end of his life, his freedom and he should only marry a girl out of choice and that he shouldn't have a hard time finding one since random girls are asking him if he loved them.
He laughs some more and asks me how did I get my parents to let up the marriage pressure off off me.
I impart wisdom" lots of patience and hard work and some turning 34 which makes me a dinosaur in the desi marriage market, and convincing them that as good human beings they cannot knowingly make life hell for a nice, good looking, educated Pakistani guy from a good family by marrying him off to me :)"
He stops typing.
I type ROFL
I sign off

Getting Over.....where????

2010-04-12T13:34:00.000-07:00

Life is all about getting over things. Get over adversity, get over sickness, get over challenges and obstacle to reach a certain goal, get over depression, sad times, heartaches, get over financial hardships, get over being mistreated, get over disappointments and of course related to all this get over people.
You meet so many people during the course of your life that it is actually impossible to keep connected with all of them. It is also quite impossible that you would want all of them to be a part of your life, since you may not like most of them or most of them may not like you. Regardless, people come and people go without you having the need to actually get over them.
But then there are those people who enter your world to touch it in the most special way, they impact you, your life, the way you see the world, in the most significant manner. It is special, the time you spend together, even if at the time it may seem quite ordinary, but it just might be influencing who you will become for the rest of your life. They are parents, siblings, friends, relatives, teachers, lovers, or sometimes they are all of them. You share a bond with these people, a special connection that can get you through hard times, times of self-doubt and struggle, times of loneliness and frustration, times of disillusionment and disappointment. They make you want to believe and live and love, they make you feel that you can do anything in the world as long as they are there standing by your side, rooting you on. They love you for who you are, and accept you as you are. You trust them, you rely on them, you grow in their company, no matter what your age, you are happy when they are with you, no matter how hard the times. They become your guardian angels.
But then there are those, who do nothing for you, yet they hold this same degree of importance in your life. They are just bright and happy people who may not even be aware of how much they mean to you, but you cherish them, because you love who they are.
And then there are those few whose lives we have touched, we have given them knowingly or unknowingly and have never felt its impact deep enough or long enough to realise that we have become something special to them. You may or may not realise your importance in their lives but you will always find them, in your corner, quietly admiring you and making you feel special.
No matter how these people come to matter in your life, whether through mutual admiration or via one-sided, loosing them is the hardest thing of all to recover from. It doesn't mater how you loose them, what is worth noting is that when they leave, you feel a part of you has left with them and no matter how many people you may have in your life and how much love you receive, you never feel whole again. A part of you is lost forever. You are not the same again.
People die, they move on, you move on, everyone has their reasons, who cares. The bottom line is, you have lost the connection, that support, the understanding, the love, the friendship, the comfort, its gone.
You loose money, you work two jobs get it back. You loose a house, heck it was never really yours. You have obstacle and hardships, time heals all, it changes, you get on with your life. But what if you loose a parent? a loving sibling? a wonderful friend? a passionate lover? What if they abandon you? What if they change? What if they betray you, hurt you so badly that you may not be able to trust again? What then?
I have always had these questions, and even though I have lost a few loved ones along the way, I still cant seem to find the answers. I used to think perhaps time is a great healer and eventually you get over everything, but now I am not so sure.
Of course, we move on, we laugh again and meet new people and get successful and we may even forget remembering these lost few, but do we really get over them? Maybe the pain disappears, but do the scars ever go away? We live our lives weighed down by the baggage of these losses, their shadows casting soft darkness over our behaviors, our habits, the way we deal with other people, the decisions we make, the manner in which we form new relationships. Our expectations are forever adjusted and we are forever fearful, of repeating a mistake, of loosing another friend, of bearing pain again, of feeling alone again, of falling down and never being able to walk again. Yes, we live in shadows. Some people may be ghastly aware of this, while some block it all out to live their lives in a peaceful delusional state, but we all have our shadows.
All this pondering makes me believe that perhaps we are not supposed to get over these people. These people hold the most significant of our memories, the most profound of our influences, the most remarkable of our experiences and the most wonderful of our associations. When they left they also taught us the harsh realities of this life, the bitter and ugly truths, which helps us become stronger and somehow wiser (of course this is not true in a lot of cases) and grown-up. Maybe cynical and bitter as well, but that is a choice.
Regardless of whether we like it or not, they remain a part of our lives one way or the other and forever influence the deepest working of our sub-conscious minds, while posing great challenges to the loved ones still dealing or putting up with us.
I guess we are better to have loved and lost then never to have loved at all.

The shinning star on my Dark night sky

2010-03-29T14:21:00.000-07:00

I often mention Guruji on my blog but have never ventured into talking too much about him. For someone who has really influenced me in so many aspects of my life, I have never dared write a post about him. Why? Well because Guruji doesn't like to be talked about. He is very private and likes to keep his life, his work and anything to do with him, under the wraps. He has so much to offer other than just the minute details of his life, that he manages to keep your focus away from him. He is smart, perceptive, funny, caring and just so easy to be with. He has single-handedly made my life (and even M's) so much simpler (if we have a problem, we just go to him and he has a ready-made solution :)). He is like no one I have met or know. he is simply amazing and somewhat annoying at times, with his almost perfect approach to anything and everything.

Today I decided to write about him because I wanted to do something or say something without being in his way. I know when he feels better he will read this and so I want him to know how proud I am of him, for everything he does, for all that he has done, for being who he is. I have seen him always be there for people he loves, he cares about, with a helping hand, a shoulder to cry on, his calm sage advice and his perceptive outlook on life. I have also seen him be honest and open about his opinions and his beliefs and I have also seen him put them into practice and stand by them, which to me is truly inspirational. I know we have had our differences - I have been unreasonable and trying and he has been harsh and annoying, and I know I don't agree with anything he says from the get go - I am defensive and he in my opinion can be opinionated :), but I have always considered myself extremely lucky to have him on my side, because there is no one else I would rather have, since he not only helps me in trying situations but also keep me in the light of reality at all times (I so hate that Guruji, but I need it).
I know he hurts today, more than he has ever hurt before, and it is really hard for me to be so far away and just watch helplessly as he goes through this pain, all closed up, never reaching out, because that's how he likes to deal with things.
Guruji, I have no idea what you actually feel, but I have some inkling because this after all is the manifestation of my own worst nightmare, something the inevitability of which haunts me all the time. Also, knowing you, knowing your hopes and desires, I know how harsh this must be for you. I know we all at some point or the other go through this pain and perhaps there is no avoiding it and so I am sorry, for you pain and for your loss. I pray that God gives you the courage to walk past this with as much dignity and strength as you can. I have seen you overcome all other adversities that you face in your life, but I am pretty sure that this is the mightiest of them all, so please know that you are not alone in this. All the people that have become a part of your life, those who love you and those who you have always stood by are there with you, with there support and prayers, least of all me :).
I know Guruji that his was a simple, sweet and gentle soul and I pray that it always rests in peace. Take care

Free Spirit stands for other Other Free Spirits

2010-02-25T11:27:00.000-08:00

Tillikum the 22 feet/12,000 lb killer whale killed his trainer at a Sea World show in Orlando. It was the breaking news all day yesterday. People expressed shock and surprise, sadness and anger with as much drama as any average American produces when placed in front of a camera. (Yaaa and we are the emotional ones). News reporters uncovered the "checkered" past of the male Orca which has sired 17 calves over his long career with the Sea world, while the camera showed the clips of the 'beast' in an isolated tank as if he is some criminal awaiting his sentencing.

Now of course it is sad that the trainer lost her life and it is awful that so many people actually witnessed the horrible incident, but I don't understand why the poor Whale is being labeled as some crazy, murderous monster. And I also don't understand the shock that something like this has happened. He is a FISH and that too a Killer whale, a magnificent mammal who has lived most of his life in captivity. He was born in the wild and I bet it is quite an adjustment from swimming in the Icelandic Atlantic Coast to being held in a tank which is probably the size of a bath tub for him. These animals are smart and wonderful creatures and don't get me wrong when I saw them at Sea World it was so amazing but, why are they paying such a high price to provide entertainment for us crazy, self indulgent human beings? And then when they lash out or react, we are shocked and surprised? Perhaps Tilli was just playing and didn't realise how fragile humans are since none of the trainers ever got in the tank with him. Apparently his violent history has caused the authorities to put a special set of procedures for his training. He is not used in waterworks and trainers believe he doesnt know his own strength I'm pretty sure he was not hungry, since the tiny woman was nothing but a lamb chop for Tilli.

I was reading about the incident and read the statement of the Seaworld spokesperson and according to him Tilli was having a great time and he is a great animal and that even though they are not sure how they will proceed with the animal after this incident, they are not going to "put him down". What??? Why would he be put down any way. You drag the poor animal out of the wild, make him do silly tricks every day for the next 20 odd years of his life, keep him in captivity, using him as a mating device (I'm not sure if he disliked that), keeping him isolated from the rest of the whales because of his size and then when he reacts based on whatever natural instinct that he acting on, you put him down? You bet your ass he wont be put down.

According to a marine biologist killer whales in the wild live in family groups, and males stay with their mothers their entire lives. Family members rely on each other for social structure and play, and they cover hundreds of miles of ocean, She also said they do need more space, and situations like that do cause a lot of stress for them, most likely.She said Tillikum had a "flopped fin, something seen in captivity but not much in the wild. How sad is that.

Interestingly, Tillkum is close to one other Whale Taima, who is kind of an outcast herself, having attacked two of her own calves she was put on birth control and separated from other animals except Tillkum. Their child Sumer is the star of the Shamu show in San diego. Wow sounds like a movie, outcast mom and dad and child abused but goes on to become a superstar LOL

Anyway Sea world contends that the animals are useful for research and perhaps for us to get a chance to observe them and what not, but based on what I have read, whales in captivity are not as good of subjects as the ones in the wild. Neither are any of the other animals. But it sure is hell of a way to make billions of dollars.

I think Tillikum should be set free. He is obviously wanting out. God he just reminds me of finding Nemo, only a less PG 13 version of it of course. How awful? He is old enough to retire anyway. They should retire all whales over the age of 15 and release them into the wild just like Keiko - the free willy whale.

I have a free spirit, I love to be outside and have no holds on me. I feel alive. I hate sitting in my office everyday, doing 'work' that does not excite me and frustrates me, but I have to otherwise I will be 'put down'. Given an opportunity I will also grab some of my coworkers from the pony tail and thrash them around a bit. And if it proves fatal, well can you blame me for it :)

FREE TILLIKUM

I believe I can fly

2010-02-17T11:31:00.000-08:00

Lately I have been thinking about this whole ABCD thing. No I have not developed a problem with the English Language alphabets, I am talking about the term ABCD. To those who don't know and who are coincidentally the people living under a rock, ABCD stands for American Born Confused Desis. To those who don't know and who are coincidentally the people living under a rock, people from the Indo-Pak Sub-continent refer to themselves as Desis meaning a person from their country as opposed to a Pardesi which means a foreigner. Now the ABCDs are the second or third or even fourth generation Desis born to American immigrants of Indian or Pakistani descent. The name, undoubtedly given to them by a Non-Resident Desi, is in no way meant to be derogatory term, contrary to what many ABCD may have you believing. They are called that because many believe them to be lost and confused about their true identity, culture and heritage. They are caught in the middle of two contradictory ways of life and sets of morals and values, one being that of their own country, followed by their American friends and the other forced on them by their parents and family, which results in utter confusion, usually further heightened by frequent trips to their ancestral homeland.
In retaliation the ABCDs call us lowly international students and newly migrated members of the American work force as 'FOBs' which of course is not a new term and has always been used to describe the new immigrants as "Fresh off the Boat". Derogatory? Maybe, but that is not the focus of my recent musings.
Is the term ABCD still relevant? Can the naturalized Asian Indian/Indian American/East Indian American citizens still be considered confused? After being a part of this society for almost a century are they still looking for a sense of belonging? Are they still suffering from an identity crisis? Slowly and steadily they have become fully integrated and incorporated into the various sectors of this society. They are the IT gurus, successful CEOs, politicians, presidential advisers, Scientific geniuses and entertainers. And since the stereotype of a Desi has changed from a Motel/gas station/liquor store owner to that of an Engineering/mathematical/software genius, the ethnic group has risen in stature, its culture being hailed and accepted, and it is getting incorporated into the various aspects of the society. With this change, I believe, the ABCDs are becoming less insecure and developing a more confident sense of belonging and an association with this country. So I guess they are not as much of ABCDs as they once used to be.
But whenever I look at people around me, people I know, co-workers, friends, friends of friends, people from my generation and the generation after, I realise that in actuality it is we who are really confused. Who are we? We are the post-Internet globalized 21st century Desis, who are still desi enough to consider arranged marriages, but are Americanized enough to have the sense of space and personal freedom and satisfaction. We have all fallen victims to our parents' guilt trips and harsh parenting skills, which ensured that we remain under-confident, lacking of a strong sense of self-worth and self-esteem and feeling that if we ever think of ourselves we are extremely selfish and there is no one worse than us. We still live under a gigantic cloud of parental, societal, religious and personal expectations, mostly unrealistic. We mostly find ourselves in the fields of engineering, medicine and IT and we also mostly find ourselves hating it and being miserable. What made it worse is that we got exposed to the other side of the world, to the things that could have been and can be, things that should have been and should be. We are not necessarily rebellious, but we are dying with the contradictions swimming around in our heads, contradictions between what we want to do and what we have to and should do, between what we have been told is right and what we KNOW is right. We have come to realise the societal and religious hypocrisies that is a part and parcel of the two Desi societies and we hate that we have to participate in these ideas and worse that we have to make them our own. And no matter how old we get or how self-aware we become , or how independent we may be, we are still rooted in the cultural and moral values and societal and parental expectations, even though we don't believe in many of them.
I (and I know for a fact that I am not alone), found myself to be misfit from the day I was born. I never felt like I belonged, anywhere. I didn't agree with many things around me. I did believe in the values that were given to me, but I didn't understand why people lived their lives in complete contrast to those values. I didn't agree with being like everyone else, behaving like everyone else. I didn't want to study what everyone expected me to study, I didn't agree with how people treated other people. I hated the class difference, the double standards, the way people treated and considered love. I thought I was a freak, a view shared by many, many and I may add another many, people. I tried so hard to fit in, didn't work. I tried so hard not to fit in, well that of course didn't work. Anyway life happened, years passed and I landed in the US of A. I thought I was free. I could finally learn who I was, be who I am and discover what I wanted in life, you know all that Oprahish stuff.
But guess what? When I came here, I brought an excess baggage that I had no idea about but have to pay a very high price for. The Gigantic cloud of expectations, the societal prejudices and the last but not the least guilt! Sounds familiar?
I and other Desis like me are living with this baggage. Day in and day out, we struggle to break free of it and finally be who we want to be and do what we want to do, but the guilt holds us back, we have become our own society, our own parents our own annoying bu'aas and Phoopos with their judgmental and disapproving looks and irritating Haa haeyyys. Contradiction. Our lives turned around, we are still confused and still struggling. And hence the new term ACDs - Americanised confused desis :)
To the people who read this, who I know are just as ACD as I am, and to myself I say...let go. Let go of who you think your parents want you to be, let go of who the society expects you to be with, let go of what you have been told marriage should be like, let go of the societal criteria of success, of a good spouse, a good man, a good woman, a good child and a good life. Let go, be free, live and let live, and be true to who you are. Distinguish between what about our values and culture is good and fair and what is a truck full load of crap. Our culture gives us more good than bad, we just have to dig deeper.

Guess Who? Boo

2010-01-13T12:10:00.000-08:00

One of the girls I shared the corporate housing in the Bay Area with told me how deathly afraid of the dark she is and how it scares her to be alone in the house specially at night and is unable to sleep by herself..I mean by herself in the house..not in the bed...or perhaps...hmmm...I am not sure. Anyway, so she wanted to know if I will be there every night so she can start sleeping in her own bed and not go to her friend's apartment. Instead of answering her query, which I found annoying (what am I your babysitter??), I asked her what exactly was she afraid of since we live in a secure gated complex, and we are poor, and don't exactly have sexy hot looks to entice the minds of serial rapists; although I am not sure what entices the minds of serial rapists, but nonetheless I didn't see anyone getting so desperate and breaking into the apartment and stealing the girl off of her *cough cough* youthful innocence, if you know what I mean. Also, I don't believe there is as yet an East Indian Chapter of the Klu Klux Klan operative in the Bay Area, who raid houses at midnight for some brown assed lynching. Perhaps because some East Indian are of Aryan descent or maybe because they are yet to notice the almost hostile take over of the region by the ethnic group, but that's not the point. I just wanted to know in the absence of these logical reasons for being fearful, why was the gal still so paranoid and paralyzed with fear (yes I exaggerate, but you should know that by now, that's just what I do).

In response to my questions she looked at me as if I was some creature who had just stepped out of a flying saucer and had greeted her with a "Hola Amiga" and then she said that there were other paranormal creatures out there (I distinctly felt a 'like you' in between those lines) who get attracted to empty dark houses, specially the ones inhabited by lonely young girls, whom they then start haunting. I blinked several times to see if there were any signs of her bursting out laughing and saying 'Just Kidding!'. But nope, nothing. Zilch, Nada. Not even half a smile. Ooookaayyy. Now it was my turn to give her one of my oh-you-are-one-of-those looks.

Suddenly I was even more annoyed than before when I had felt I was her babysitter. I am sorry but what a bunch of bull-shit. Listen girlie you are not really a damsel and distress, you are no longer 7 and it definitely is not cute that you still believe in the monsters under your bed. Give me a break. You decided you want to be a grown up and have a career and become a traveling nomadic consultant and then you expect to be with people 24/7. What is wrong with you? Attention whore much, are you huh?

Am I totally over-reacting? Am I being too harsh? Of course I am! All my life I have come across girls afraid of the ghosts and monsters and sleepwalking zombies and what not, but isn't there an age limit to that? Don't you eventually figure out that you can go to the bathroom without your bolder cousin standing guard at the door? Or that your cousin brother is still your brother even with his eyelids rolled inside out? And that if you are afraid of the dark you just keep a night light on? Helloooo? It annoyed me even when I was 7, even though my Nani Ma would tell me all sorts of ghost stories but I never felt haunted. Maybe because I always slept alone or maybe because I am an Army brat, or perhaps I was wise beyond my years. Hehehehe, okay the last one had me cracking, but that's just how it is. I get very very annoyed when a grown woman says oh I am so afraid of ghosts and monsters and chain-saw wielding zombies instead of saying oh I am so afraid of getting robbed and raped in broad daylight.

Yes of course its okay to be scared. When did I say it is not? Be afraid, be very afraid, but be afraid of things tangible and real not something which is an extension of your active imagination and disturbed childhood. Heck I am afraid of loads of things. In fact I am a regular chicken when it comes to things beyond my control like roller coasters and crazy rottweilers or just regular sickness and disability. For all i care, you can scream like a banshee when you see a lizard or a rat because you have to admit they are just gross but not a cockroach, that's where I draw a line, they are really harmless and you can kill one just by stepping on it, so not a roach but a rodent, yes...scream to your heart's content. But don't be all oh I saw the balcony door move by itself. Yes it moved, it is a balcony door and it is very windy. Please, logicalize your fears. And don't even get me started on the horror movies. If they scare you, don't watch them.

Anyway, I told the jumpy girl that I am never home at night since I mostly stay at my sister's, which pretty much guaranteed that I have the entire apartment to myself the rest of my stay. Well most of it anyway but then I had another roomie, who is not really afraid of anything at all.

Just a thought. Based on my track record, now that I have vented and ranted about all this, I am pretty sure Paranormal will suddenly become normal in my life and I will be spotted by some zombie or the other who will mark me as its soul reason of existence or whatever the hell they mark people for. Oh man, I had to open my stupid big mouth.

The Mother of all Comebacks

2010-01-05T11:11:00.000-08:00

And I am Back!!!

So after a sabbatical of over 3 months, I am back at work in Sunny San Diego, CA. Quite a contrast from the gray skies of Seattle. From one end of the western coast to the other. Am I excited? Well, considering how wonderful San Diego is and how much I wanted to stay in California and how little choice I had in the matter, I think its safe to say...Hell Yeah!!!!!

Work is how it usually is during the 1st week, slow and extremely sleep inducing. Lot of administrative mambo jumbo, which I hate. The office lacks a cafeteria, but the private office with a door and four walls more than makes up for it. You read it right a DOOR and WALLS. Not a cubicle, an actual office. Of course when I stretch I can almost touch the walls, but its an office nonetheless. Besides we have to keep in mind that I am a fairly tall person with fairly long arms, so the size of the office becomes completely relative. My manager is a seemingly nice lady with an extremely pronounced valley-girl accent, but I am somewhat wary of her, mostly because I have never actually had a female manager before and from what I have heard and observed, they can be quite the bitches. They way she talks is funny, reminds me of this SNL character that Kristen Wiig plays, Penelope.

Anyway the good thing is I am back at work, which is always hard but welcome after such a long break. Especially a long and stressful break. It's like your brain had been frozen yet somehow became covered with mold while living in a 2000 year old mummy coffin and then suddenly it needs to be used again and it actually requires the force of your entire being to kick-start it without being discovered passed out at your desk by your new Boss and coworkers. What a dilemma, yet somehow I am able to type this with my eyes closed.

Not a lot happened while I was away, other than the coming true of the worst fears and nightmares of most educated, conscientious Pakistanis. Destruction has finally come knocking at our doors, heck what am I saying, its not knocking at our doors, it has actually blasted past the doors and is already playing havoc with the lives and minds of the entire nation right in the middle of our living room. Its mind-numbing what is happening, and that's exactly how I feel...numb. And that's precisely how I need to feel to operate as a normal human being, but it is hard, especially when every day there is some news story about a new devastating incident comes circulating towards me, mainly through my Aapi. I just pray to God that some miracle spares the lives and homes of many many innocent, faithful and harmless people, who don't even know the first thing about terrorism or why it has made itself so comfortable in our home. They are not wayward, the are not Americans, they are not evil non-believers. True they have lived a submissive life, they have been puppets in the hands of a few feudal landlords, corrupt politicians and judiciary, they haven't held themselves accountable morally, legally or socially for a lot of problems that the country faces. True they didn't educate themselves, or instigated a revolution against the few corrupt elites, true they didn't fight hard enough to reform the country's political or social setup. True they got frustrated but never took action against the people actually responsible for their suffering and instead turned to abusing the weakest amongst them. But does this make them bad? Does this make them evil? Is it okay that they suffer for the actions of the so-called kings of this world? Who is doing what and how are they justifying it to their consciences, it is just beyond the mental and moral understanding of this blogger. All I know is that it never is how it appears to be.

This was enough of the real world for me and now I will escape to my American wonderland, that my superficial life has become. Of course, these days even to enter an amusement park you have to pay a very very high and heavy price, so it ain't no picnic on this side of the spectrum either. To dream is not to escape anymore, which I guess is the part and parcel of growing up or should I say growing older. Older and wiser. I read somewhere that as women grow older they feel more and more self-empowered yet at the same time, more and more insecure. How true is that? As we grow older we get a lot of understanding of who we are and what we need and what we can or cannot control in this world. Yet at the same time, since so much importance is put into a woman's looks and age that it makes us feel very very vulnerable and unsafe. It took centuries for us to become this brainwashed into thinking that because we are older we have something to be ashamed of. We are made fun of, skin-care products and plastic surgery is made to be our best buds, while younger women are pit against us as our arch Nemesis. We constantly compete with one another, until we get more wrinkled and stressed out and then our biologies turn against us and we are forever doomed to an existence plagued by incessant mood swings and intermittent states of extreme hot or cold. And men...they just loose their hair and some not even that. Life...so fair and wonderful...NOT.

Hmmm, where was I? Oh yeah San Diego! Its 73 degrees outside...awesome sunshine...perfect perfect day...and it is my lunch hour so what am I doing still typing? I shall go now but I shall write more frequently, now that I am back at work ;) See ya...Oh and a very happy new year to everyone.

Here is to a new chapter of my life...to La Jolla...cheers

Still Alive..

2009-11-02T02:40:00.000-08:00

I could not make myself write...anything :(

I wanted to

I really did....

so much to say

so many thoughts to decode

so much to vent out about

so many things to bitch about

But.........

I could not even form a proper sentence

even what i am writing now is being typed with a lot of effort and with ample usage of the back space key.

Yes i hated being unemployed

Yes I was preoccupied

Yes I was a bit down in the dumps.

And yes, even though it was great to be in the Bay Area, but it does take a toll on me.

But now its finally over. And I will hopefully get back in my routine. Three long months and now I am once again with a Project. My brain will finally start functioning at its original pace. My blog will see new posts. My bank will see some incoming activity. And I will return to the gym. Fingers crossed

And the best thing...I stay in Cali. Yayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!!!!

Talk to you soon my non-existent readers with a more detailed post (I am not sure if the previous 2 are still around)

Farwell Seattle...Hello Chapter New

2009-10-10T02:05:00.000-07:00

So its been busy..of course it has been busy...moving out of my place, ending my project, short trip to Boston, last couple of days in the sweet city of Seattle, one long drive down the pacific coast to come back t0 my beloved Bay area, spending time (read shopping with) my parents who fly back tomorrow and of course the renewed job hunt...yes it has been crazy busy.

So do I miss Seattle? Of course I do miss it. I still can’t believe I left it all behind, the home, the friends, the work, the lakes, and the trainer. The little constant that I had found in my ever volatile life! When I finally started to feel at home, I had to pack up my bags and leave. But that’s life. At least that’s my life. One long never-ending adventure! Not so bad. I am ready for the new phase of it. So, thank you Seattle, for the rainy days and the sunny afternoons, the lull in my storm, the friends, the beautiful landscapes, the nice hikes, the renewed peace of my heart and my mind. I will never forget the kindness that you showed me, for which you will always hold a special place in my heart. I will of course be back to contest my sole speeding ticket. Until then, adieu!!

So now I wait, for the next piece of happening that will reach my part of the world, wherever that may be. I have started the search and so far things look...i don’t know..not hopeless at least...let’s see. I insist on staying in my California, which unfortunately is experiencing the worst economic crisis since its existence as a part of these united states, or so it appears. But I cross my fingers and keep hooked to my laptop screen, my ear attached to the cell phone, listening to the voice of any and every recruiter promising me a piece of the west coast action. Let this be my time dear God, to be part of the San Franciscan Work force. I have waited patiently for 3 years, separated from friends and family, almost living aboard a Southwest 737, making the corporation of Public Storage very very rich, can I now have my chance to stay?? Dramatic...yes!! Neurotic...borderline!! Desperate...you got it!!

But one way or the other...I won’t complain, as long as I get employed sooooooooooon and as long as I stay couple of hours long flight away from here. Unemployment does not bode well with me. I get bored, broke, shopaholic (an after-effect of the former), lazy, cranky, moody, grouchy, and extremely hard to deal with, even for me. So, bottom line is...get employed. Cali will always be here for me. No matter how far away I move, I will always come back to my home away from home.

So my readers, if there are any at all, pray for my rapid restoration to employment. And also, pray that the distance between the nearest mall and me remains as lengthy as possible, and that I remain sane, happy, healthy and less volatile...just for the sake of the sanity of people around me...if there are any left. Good night, good luck and good bye.

My cat that liked potato chips

2009-09-16T11:56:00.000-07:00

The five years before my migration to the land of opportunity were spent in the company of (among other creatures), a rambunctious feline of the Siamese descent, with a lot of personality, attitude and character. Her name - Simbo. Now Simbo was no ordinary cat, and I know most pet owners just like parents believe their cat, dog, hamster or for that matter iguana is like no other, but trust me when I say this, Simbo was not your everyday domesticated pet. She could beat up three cats at the same time, usually male cats twice her size and refused to mate with any cat of high pedigree. She hated to see me cry and kept hitting me with her paw until I stopped, She felt no shame in begging for food, even on a full stomach, and she never ever pooped in a dirty litter box and would never go if anyone was watching her. She showed happiness, anger, remorse in equal amounts. She would fight our German shepherd with so much zest for no apparent reason, perhaps to prove who is the boss, and poor Axle being the sweet dog and an eternal puppy always thought she was playing with him. She gave birth to one weird looking kitten every year that usually never survived past a few weeks, it was heart breaking to watch Simbo look for the ugly kitten afterwards, at all hours for the next few days, not eating or drinking, and last but not the least, she loved to eat potato chips. When I say love, I mean LOVE to the point of insanity. You so much as open a bag and she would jump out of nowhere to beg for her share. If she was lost Id go around crinkling an empty packet of Super Crisps, and sure enough she ran right up to me. One time my cousin, being the cheapskate that he is, was eating chips, showing them to her and putting them in his mouth. Suddenly, Simbo jumped on the arm of of the sofa he was sitting in totally freaking him out, much to my amusement of course, and started meowing sweetly. My cousin then told me that Simbo was an embodiment of how I would be if I had been a cat myself. I laughed out thinking that he is probably right.

Of course she did a lot of the things that other cats do, sit in fresh laundry, go crazy after fish and chicken, play with chords, thread and wool, get running attacks in the middle of the night, think the freshly ironed clothes are layed out just for her, follow the sunlight and sleep in it 60% of the day, hate getting her nails clipped or taking baths, get freaked out by hair dryers and vacuums, and don't even get me started on the days on heat.

The highlight of her career as a domesticated feline came when a mouse got into our house and was being hunted high and low by the many, many people who lived in our house (separate post on how my mom turned our home into a foster home of sorts). the mouse was in one particular room that had glass sliding doors. Five people in the room were searching for the wretched rat and my cat was just lounging around in one corner. Everyone was laughing at how disinterested she looked and that she is too old to know what is going on. After half an hour of unsuccessful hunt, everyone came out for a break and closed the door, with only the rat and a sleepy cat inside. As we were conferring about what should be done, suddenly we saw Simbo leap into the air to do a double somersault and land in the other corner. When she turned around, the mouse was in her mouth. Eat your heart out Jerry. Everyone cheered and eventually separated the dead mouse from her mouth. It was gruesome, yet I was so proud of my lazy old kitty.

One time she was lost for a week and I cried my eyeballs out, posting lost signs all over the apartment complex. One day a kid from the neighborhood informed us that he had seen my cat in another kid's house. He had kidnapped (or catnapped perhaps) her and was going to sell her off. I was enraged and walked over to the kid's apartment and rang the bell. The kid came out, I asked him about my cat and he lied that he knew nothing about her. From inside the house I could hear a cat meow, repeatedly. I pushed the punk aside and went in to find my Simbo in the kitchen, sitting next to an empty bowl, asking for food I believe (contrary to what I had perceived to be a cry for help). She recognized me and started circling around my legs. I glared at the kid and picked up my Simbo and walked out of the house.

The reason for this post (boring for the non-catlovers) is that I believe this to be Simbo's fifth death anniversary. Before coming to the US, I had given her to another family after my father refused to take care of her. I felt horrible walking away from her, but I knew it had to be done. Turns out a month later, she died for unknown reasons. I have no idea if she got sick or got run over by a car or perhaps she missed me so much that she stopped eating and just died of heartbreak. Yeah, I know that last option is a bit too dramatic to involve a cat, but they don't call me the drama queen for nothing.

RIP Simbo, I will always miss you. Thank you for the years of companionship. You lived life on your terms and did it with so much attitude that makes me believe....you were no ordinary cat. Enjoy the heavenly potato chips.

Drama in Real Life

2009-09-08T11:49:00.000-07:00

So on the long weekend I went white water rafting, much to the horror and surprise of my family. No, they are not over protective or paranoid. They just know me really well and knowing me they know how deathly afraid I am, of thrill rides, water and drowning, and since WWR involves all three, I might as well have been suicidal. My father thought I'd chicken out at the last minute, my sister was sure I'd have a heart attack, my brother in law just said "cool", and M...well M is the one who got me in trouble. Since she claims to be afraid of roller coasters as well, and since she has been WWR twice before, I thought how bad can it really be? And it really was not that bad. In fact it was a lot of fun. At first I was a bit freaked out since I don't know how to swim and I knew if i fell in,everyone will witness such drama and chaos, inspite of the life jacket that I adorned, that they will actually find the rapids boring. But once in the raft, I was a lot more confident and really glad that I came. The first rapid of course, had me with my heart in my throat, especially when I felt the raft was getting swallowed by a giant black hole, but it was just so much fun to come out of it that I relaxed and just enjoyed the rest of the ride. We had some funny incidents with the people that went with us. One guy 'N' tried to save a guy 'S' who wasn't really drowning since he just had his raft voluntarily flipped over. As S floated downstream towards us, N got totally panicked and started tugging at S's life jacket frantically without much success. He kept trying to pull S up while standing in the raft until S actually started trying to break free from him. It was hilarious. The struggle went on for a minute or so and cost S his sunglasses and cap, and when eventually I pulled S in (using the technique the guide had taught us), he was just so happy that I saved him from N. Then this other lady insisted on counting each of her paddle stroke, and when M asked why was she counting and whether she intended to add all the counts up at the end of the ride, the lady just said the counting kept her sane. I immediately went to the far side of the raft and quickly went in the other raft as soon as the raft flipping craziness ended. And why do people have their rafts flipped on purpose?? Whats up with that anyway?
SO the whole WWR experience was great and I might go again but I will stick to level 3 until I learn how to swim (odds of this happening is 1 to 10, since several people have tried and quit trying to teach me how to swim...mummmyyy get me out of here..noooo..noooo...ya allahhhhh).
So the weekend was fun, spend time with family, celebrated my darling nephew's 5th birthday, watched my baby nephew walk, had some masala dosa and chaat yumm, all in all a great weekend.
Cut to this morning. I get to the airport and find my flight is 30 mins late, oh well. Tried to listen to the music, the ipod battery runs out, That's alright I guess. I reach Seattle, my friend is 40 mins late in picking me up and I am late from work, Hmmm. I get to my car and start driving to work, but coming downhill i go slightly over the speed limit, and of course a cop is there. He pulls me over and slaps me with my very first moving violation. Noooooooooooooooooooooo. I am dejected I forget I need gas and get on the freeway. I realise I need gas, so I take the nearest exit, and my car simply stops. Dead. Kaput. I burst out laughing deliriously. God finally remembers me. The source of wonderful, healthy, laugh-so-hard-hurt-your-side entertainment. He likes me, he really likes me.
Two things occur to me as I walk to the nearest gas station. Firstly, had this been Pakistan My car would have been pushed by at least four strong men, more than happy to assist a damsel in distress, to the nearest gas station. Secondly, I should be grateful that God did not use me for his morning entertainment while I was enjoying white water rafting :-)
I intend to go home soon, climb under the blanket and stay there for the rest of the day.

Suspicious

2009-09-01T15:52:00.000-07:00

Sometimes when everything around you has started to unravel and you find your situation slowly inching southwards, somehow you manage to keep up the buoyancy of your mood. Such a situation can take you by surprise, perhaps because, based on experience you were expecting yourself to become frazzled at the first sign of trouble or at least have a few sleepless nights. But Nada. Is this denial or delusion or is it just that reality is having a hard time hitting you in the face, because you have created so many layers of distractions, duties and tasks to help you dodge this ultimate assault? Should this time be considered a blessing and should be used to enjoy the freedom of the stress-free zone or should this be considered the quiet before the storm and must be used to safeguard oneself against the storm or better yet prevent the storm?

Staying true to my element as a mental retard, I have started analysing my apparent nonchalance towards the impending unemployment. No stress about the move, no tension due to the lack of interview calls, no breakdowns about the unstable and inconstant nature of my life. Hmmm, somethings not right. This is me we are talking about. The die-hard, uncompromising drama queen.I know, I know, I should be glad that nothing is getting to me, but you see that's just what is wrong with my brain. It is so used to being worried that now it is worrying about my lack of worrying. Am I finally loosing it? Don't answer that one.

Anyway, having packed and moved to a friend's home for the remaining sentence of my Seattle exile, I am just about ready for my next big adventure. I have no idea what it is, where it is or when is it, but I do know that it needs to be in a non-snowy part of the country. It also cant be in the part of the country which is too far away from California neither can it be in a state that is predominantly a desert and has harsh, hell-like summers. Also, I am done with the rainy Northwest region. So lets see here, no snow, no desert, no rain, not too far away from my people, hmmm. I guess that just leaves me California itself. Huh, who would have thought ;).

Yes yes I know beggars cant be choosers, so I will go where the bread is to be gotten. Nonetheless, I hope the dream of working and living in my beloved city of San Francisco would finally come true. We will see.

In the menatime I am trying not panic about my lack of panic. Perhaps I have become used to the craziness of life or I have just matured into a more level-headed, sensible person, who understands that life has its share of flights and crashes. Okay the cynic in me just fell off his chair in a fit of uncontrollable laughter. Hey come'on it can happen. Sighhhhh

Vent today...gone tomorrow

2009-08-19T15:39:00.000-07:00

I hate know it alls. I absolutely can't stand people who seem to think they have a total and complete grasp of what life is all about, and how its various challenges and issues should be dealt with. They may have their own short-comings and weaknesses that people around them deal with, but when it is their turn to bear with others' downtimes, they get into this overtly sage-like mode, where they look at you or listen to you with an air of "oh you stupid, poor, dumb miserable child, feeling all these non-existent feelings, and going through these make-believe issues", and somehow every time they talk it seems like they are talking at you. Communication is a two-way street, helloooo!!

People like this have an answer for every question (even for those which have not been asked) and solution to every problem (even ones that don't even exist), and then they will state the obvious, because at some level they believe the world is full of dumb people, who remain oblivious to the obvious even when it hits them smack in the face. Add to this their belief that others' best is never good enough and perhaps others are only faced with a problem because they have done nothing to eradicate it. Yes, because we are that dumb.

Oh and people like this also think actions are always the best thing and words almost always are crap, because life is always that simple, right? And you always know what steps to take and what actions to undertake, always. Bull!!!

Of course 90% of the know it alls are men and if only I could box my out of every conversation with every logical and practical man in this world, I would probably be crowned the heavy weight champion of the world within the next 24 hours. Mohammad Ali has got nothing on me. Why oh why are men the most infuriating creatures in the world? Why do they have to think every observation made on the current state of a depressing and trying situation is a whine? Why do they assume that just because we are trying to talk about the difficulty of the present circumstances, we are doing nothing, NOTHING to make it all better?

I am a woman, a strong, independent woman who has always made her way out of her various troubles, by hook or by crook, every single time, without the aide of the whole world. I have taken whatever steps are needed to make a miserable condition better and it may not have been swift, but it has always been long-lasting and I am eternally grateful to my God for that. But through it all, there is one and only one thing that I have desired from the people around me and that is to listen to my crap, promise me their undying support and pretend to be empathetic, always EMPATHETIC! Not judgmental, not patronizing, not critical, not impatient, just empathetic. And you know why I can demand this HERCULEAN effort from my near and dear ones, because I am sure as hell there for them when they need me, in whatever capacity they require me, I am there. Always, period! Oh dear God *gasp* yes i expect!!!

To hell with productivity!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Love Thy Neighbor

2009-08-14T13:17:00.000-07:00

So the last post made me think about the things that Indians and Pakistanis do or don’t have in common amongst themselves. Since the 1 billion people living in India are so diverse, thinking that the neighboring 17 million don’t bring variety (read drama) of their own, would be a grave act of misguidance.
Having lived in the US for a certain period of time, I have had a fair amount of exposure to the Indian population. In fact, almost all my dear friends in the US, including sweet M, come from the other side of the border. And of course the fact that I have spent majority of my time in the US in either the Silicon Valley or Microsoft land, gives me enough research material to work with.

As far as the other side of the spectrum is concerned, being an Army brat gives me more than enough authority on Pakistanis from every corner of the country. I also have 33 years of personal experience of being a Pakistani.

Now that I have established myself as some sort of an expert on the subject, I will commence the analysis of similar and dissimilar tendencies of our two South Asian friends. For this post I shall talk about the commonalities, since there seems to be so many ;-)

1. Marriage/Wedding: Yes, we both love our weddings and we both are obsessed with marriages. When I say obsessed, I mean live for it, dream about it; think about it morning noon and night. Our mothers start worrying about our marriages as soon as we turn 18, (or so it seems). Every decision of our life is deliberated on, in relation with its impact on our ability to capture the right spouse. What career we choose, what friends we make, how we behave in public, what clothes we wear, and what food we eat etc. etc. God forbid if a girl stays single past the age of 26 (30 in the guy’s case). Nothing worse than being a parent of a single person. Of course, when such an obsession is satisfied, it necessarily calls for a huge celebration. And so begins a month-long festivity, involving all kinds of rituals and Broadway scale singing and dancing. No matter which part of Indian Sub-continent you come from, you have to be married before 30, or you are basically doomed. And you have to have a wedding out of a Bollywood saga (Remember hum aap kay hain kaun), or…well, or you are basically doomed.

2. Jalebi: May it be a Pakistani or an Indian, from any part of the two countries, the sight of Jalebi will make his heart pound fast, fill his mouth with water, and make his brain spin inside the skull with ecstasy. The gold/orange delicacy is at the core of every South-Asian and just the sight of it can make many a heart tumble with joy.

3. Crying Babies: Wherever you go, a mall, a movie theatre, a restaurant, a street corner, if you hear a shrieking, whiney, uncontrollably hysterical child, you can basically guess, without even turning around to confirm, that the source of this entire racket is a Desi child. 95% of the time, you will be right. I don’t know if it is genetic, or bad parenting or just the fact that the kid knows he is born in a household where his entire life will be spent trying to live up to ridiculously high, unreasonable expectations, that he starts the mourning process so early, but Desi kids love to cry, a lot. I am in no way inferring that non-desi kids don’t cry, no way whatsoever. The 5% margin of error has been spared for the kids of African, African-American or Hispanic origins.

4. Emotional Blackmail: Whether it’s the parents making their single son/daughter agree to get married, or relatives trying to get you to throw the party you never intended to throw, or unwanted people trying to stay friends with you, we as two nations, excel at emotional blackmail. We also know how to do it subtly, unconsciously and extremely randomly. After all we are also passive aggressive by nature. You see we have been taught from an early age to be nice, never say no or whatever is on your mind, never listen to your heart and always follow the norms of the society (we are never told these things, we just learn them). So years of self-sacrifice, self-denial and non-verbal desperation turns us into kings/queens of passive aggression and emotional blackmail.

5. Corrupt Police: Yes police of both the countries is unconscionably corrupt, and collectively abhorred and dreaded by all. We also are the most law-abiding citizens in this country – of course, not taking into consideration the things we do to stay in this country. I guess that’s another thing in common.

6. Internet etiquettes (or lack thereof): If you are one of those people who sometimes scroll down on a YouTube video to read the comments, you will realize how stupid both set of people can be when it comes to expressing their patriotism and nationalism. A video as random as that of a Pakistani kid singing a nursery rhyme can ignite such vile, abusive (read utterly ridiculous) repartee, which would make a drug dealer from Crompton hide his face with shame.

7. Behavior when encountered with another Desi: Here in the US, when we encounter another Desi, we a) tend to pretend that we can see through them (b) might be checking them out from top to bottom, but on eye contact, pretend we didn’t even see them (c) on eye-contact, continue to stare without smiling or any other change in expression (d) when encountered with a friendly and smiling Desi, never ever smile back and just stare blankly or just get confused and nervous.

8. Accords/Camrys/Odyssey: The biggest commonality between the South Asian immigrants in America is their love of an Accord or a Camry. The third car, is the must have minivan for all NRI and NRP moms, which Honda is considering to rename O’Desi.

9. Cricket: Of course! How can I forget? Don’t need to say more on the subject.

10. Cultural and societal hypocrisies (“what?? We are not hypocrites, how dare you?”), aggression while drunk (“for those Pakistanis who do drink. What? There are Pakistanis who drink??”), extreme possessiveness of their women (applies to men only, “What? There are no homosexuals in India/Pakistan! How dare you?”), love of meat (“Haey Raam! There are Hindus who eat non-veg”??), male-dominance (“of course not, we are all equal opportunity employers and we don’t think women are dumb, of course not, you dumbass”), sexual frustration/suppression/confusion (“She said sex!! What shameless girl”), eve-teasing (this includes pinching, touching, kissy noises, bollywood song-singing etc. (“How is that wrong????”).

Dedicated to the people from both side of the border, Happy Independence Day!!

I can be ignorant...but I am very nice

2009-08-12T11:46:00.000-07:00

Majority of the Americans especially the politically correct, socially conscientious Caucasian ones, apologize a lot. They also thank a lot. When I mean a lot, i mean A LOT. American people love to be liked. They like to think of themselves as good people and they want others to acknowledge that as well. They are also death-afraid of litigation and so they try real hard to be at their best behavior around people of color and also to make all possible efforts to ensure they don't come across as racist, prejudiced, ignorant, rude and most of all intrusive. One thing American people really respect is the right to ones privacy, freedom and space. Now I am not saying that people just do this to avoid possible lawsuits. Not at all. In fact, I happen to think that Americans are probably, by far, one of the nicest people in the world. I have seen people from other parts of the world here and I can safely say, give me an American manager over a Desi one, any day.

Anyway, the point is that being a Single-Pakistani-Muslim woman, I get apologized to pretty frequently...well, for being single and Pakistani and Muslim and a woman. My life is the very paradigm of suppression, deprivation, suffering and struggle. How I must have fought to break free from the restrictions and constraints of a pre-historic times, barbaric society that does not allow women to show off their bodies...heaven forbid!! Did I have to sneak around to get educated? Did my parents try to marry me off to a sheikh at the age of 14? Did I wear a burqa all my life? Did my family disown me for being single and migrating to the US and living alone? How liberating it must be for me to wear Capri pants? The answers to all these questions lead to a lot of apologies and a lot of "Oh really!! I had no idea." and "that's amazing, your father sounds like a very modern man." Are you patronizing me??? More apologies.

One thing I get apologized, at least once a day, for is being mistaken for an Indian. Of course not a Native-Indian, but a Pakistani's arch-rival, blood enemy East-Indian ("How Dare YOU???"). They get so embarrassed and are so emphatic in their I am sorries, that I almost (ALMOST) wish that I was an Indian just so I could spare them this pain and humiliation. I mean people relax!! This is probably the most honest mistake anyone can ever make. And what do you think I will do anyway? Grab your throat and bang your head against the wall while screaming, "Take it back, you ignorant moron, take it back...apologizeeeeeeeee!!" Seriously!! Of course this is not limited to the American people and applies to every living human being from any part of the world, who knows anything about the now pre-historic Indo-Pak conflict.

What is most annoying is when an Indian him/herself mistakes me for an Indian (nothing wrong with that) and once my true identity is disclosed, the conversation almost always follows into an awkward pause, which is almost always broken by the Indian person saying, "Oh thats OK, its the same thing. There isn't any difference right? After all we were one country once."

OK, just wait right there. I have so many Indian friends that I cant even remember when was the last time I met a Pakistani person, let alone befriended one. And since I happen to truly like and genuinely respect my fellow South Asians, I will impart this very very useful piece of information to you. First of all, when someone tells you where he/she is from, he/she is not apologizing to you for being from that part of the world, and is not asking for you to be "OK" with their places of origin. Secondly, if you are truly a non-political, I-only-care about-the-person-and-not-the-politics kind of person, try not to make any reference to the checkered history of our two countries. No matter how bad the condition of our country may be, we are still associated with 'our country' and we really don't want to be reminded that 'our country' was in fact part of 'your country' some 60 odd years ago. To us "its not the same thing" and "there is a difference" and if we are nodding our heads, we are just trying to be non-confrontational and nice. You are just putting us on the defensive. Most likely if somebody told you they were from Uganda, you would probably say, "Oh wow, that sounds interesting, tell me more about the place." Well, try this on the next person who tells you he/she is from Pakistan. Trust me, its so much better and most probably the Pakistani person would say, "Oh, you know its very much like India, culturally." After all, its time we learn a few things from our politically correct, socially conscientious Caucasian friends :-).

Oh on a side note, we don't think it will be better if the two countries got back together. Trust me, that is a recipe for disaster. When a couple gets divorced citing irreconcilable differences, they almost never get back together to have a second go at it, at least not successfully. They have been known to however, after seeking a certain level of maturity of course, learn to co-exist as friends who have gone through and shared a whole history together.

Coming back to our ever apologizing, ever thanking, forever believing what-the-media-tells-them hosts, its admirable that you guys are the way you are. There is a certain class about people who can show regret and gratitude when required. But let me clarify a few things that you may have picked from watching CNN or even worse the dreaded FOX News. People around the world are not all as intolerant, narrow-minded and America hating as the media has you believing. No matter where the American people will go, especially the former British colonies, I can guarantee that most people will treat you with a lot of love and respect. People may not like the American policies or the arrogance that some of the former governments have behaved with, but they don't hate the American culture or people. Secondly, not all Muslim countries are mullah-loving, Osama-loving, shiaite/america hating, wahabi-fundamentalists. There are regular sufi-loving, tomb-visiting, qawali-singing nations, there are skirt wearing, wine drinking, belly dancing states, and there are a combination of all three, confused, distressed by the fundamentalist, exhausted by fighting other people's wars and politically and economically unstable countries, needless to say like Pakistan.

At the end of the day, knowledge is key, otherwise we are all victims of ignorance. But in the absence of sense, I guess I am OK with the apologies. After all, we have to start somewhere.

My mind thinks better when asleep

2009-08-04T17:36:00.000-07:00

I am drained. After a full week of dealing with and listening to marital dramas and traumas, I am just about ready to become a nun. Seriously! I am so glad about being single. So glad. If anyone so much as mention marriage to me I will have to use my newly toned muscles.

Seriously, I have so much to do before the end of this month. Update my resume, look for job opportunities, pack and sort my stuff, reach out to contacts for job opportunities and most of all move out by the end of August. I have M and my parents and potentially Aapi and her family coming for a visit this month. That just leaves me two weeks to get most of my chores done. So, the potential domestic dismemberment of near and dear ones is just making the stress levels worse.

To top it all, my brain faced with a bit uncertain and potentially stressful times is as always going in its sleep mode. When I say sleep mode I mean I can literally go to sleep at the drop of the hat. It has always been the case and is one of the things I blame Ami for. The moment life gets stressful, my system becomes overly sleep and hunger efficient. I am so sleepy and tired all the time. And when I manage to be awake I am super ravenous. I remember when my father had that horrible by-pass surgery and throughhout the episode where the doctors who botched up his graft had no way of knowing which way he will swing, my mom and I used to be peacefully asleep on the two couches outside the Intensive Care Unit. We would get up, eat and go back to sleep. Talk about escaping. It was so embarrassing and I am sure that our friends, family and hospital staff thought we just didn't care. Well maybe we are just such spiritual souls who knew it will all be alright. Rite!!!

It is just something we cannot help. Papa always says when people are stressed out they loose their sleep and appetite, but in my and Ami's case it just gets bigger and better. He thinks we are lucky but, I beg to differ. My last stressful time gave me something I am still trying to get rid of...the extra 200,000 pounds (yes, yes, i exaggerate ;-)). So no I am not happy that I don't loose my sleep or appetite at the first sign of trouble.

And not to complain but whats up with having to continue working at a company that you know doesn't really want you there anymore. It is just such a downer. I guess the best thing about being an employee as opposed to a contractor is that, when employees are told bah-bye, they can take their severance package and be on their way out. A contractor on the other hand has to slog along until the expiration of the SOW so that he can get whatever extra pay. Like I said, it is not complaint; it is just a motivational problem. I still have to work, but my heart is not in it. But what to do. Being the professional I am (ahem, ahem) I am doing the best I can with as much enthusiasm as I can muster.

Coming back to the original rant about marital delights, I am so over this idea of something is better than nothing in the context of marriage. You have got to be kidding me. Just because you cannot face the dark, ugly and scary side (life as a single/divorced woman...heaven forbid lol), you are willing to put up with crap that belongs in the 18th century. I know the unknown is overwhelmingly freaky, but trust me living your life with dignity and self-respect makes up for everything else. A person who makes you feel like a nobody, does not care for you. Marriage, friendship, business partnership or professional relationships, whatever might be the reason for two individuals to come together, it should be to bring value to one another and help each other grow and eventually progress together. The manipulation, the games, the power plays, the abuse, the cheating, the torture, the running down of one another. Haven't we had enough? Are we not tired already? It breaks my heart to see good people suffer for being good, for being weak and innocent, for having a heart and for loving. Sad !!

My idealistic, but heartfelt prayer and message is that whoever we are with, a friend, a parent, a lover, a spouse, a co-worker, even a servant, may we treat them with the love and respect they deserve. May we appreciate all that they bring to us and all that they do for us. May we accept them for who they are and care for what they need. May we rule their hearts and minds with love, care and understanding. May we never utter the words that hurt them and never act the deeds that shatter their selves. May Allah broaden our hearts and minds. Amen!!!

The fried egg syndrome

2009-07-29T12:34:00.000-07:00

Seattle is experiencing the hottest and more importantly the driest summer of the century. Of course the century is just in its 10th year and with the way the climate is changing most likely the records set this year will be easily broken in the years to come. Nevertheless, it is frigging hellish HOT out there and I'm suffering from the Fried Egg Syndrome. But perhaps it isn't the dry heat that is at the root of this syndrome. Perhaps it is due to my impending unemployment and homelessness or the fact that the roommate wont agree to my parents staying at my place during their visit, despite the fact that she is never at home (I last saw her in April) or the fact that I cant find a place to keep my dearest family who plan to visit me in August, or my little cousin getting harassed by her jackass husband, or my seemingly useless workouts (the weight loss is progressing at snails pace...and no I am not digesting crap). Or maybe it is the heat after all. My place has no air-conditioning and the temperature keeps in the late 80s up until midnight. My room faces east and the freeway, absorbing the heat from the entire day and not allowing me to keep my window open through the night Last night I plugged in cotton balls in my ears to silence the freeway noise just so I can keep the window open.

Whatever maybe the reason, my brain seems ready to melt out of my ears. This reminds me of my visits to Multan at various occasions. Multan is a city in Pakistani Punjab, situated near the Cholistan Desert. It is a wonderful place of cultural, historic and spiritual importance, but none of this greatness can minimize the fact that the place is HELL April through October. It is soooo hot, averaging anywhere between 50 - 55 Celsius (Seattleites that's between 120 - 130 Fahrenheit). You cant eat, you cant breath. It is like being in a damn sauna. I remember it so clearly. I also remember every time I went there I prayed more regularly and tried to be a good Muslim, since it was so much like burning in hell for eternity. Tauba Tauba.

By now I have no idea where this post is going. What was I trying to say....see what I mean about the the syndrome. Oh whatever, its not like i have a gaggle of loyal readers following this blog.

The point maybe is that I wish I was in a tropical place, where temperatures remained moderate (anywhere between 70 - 80 F/20 - 28 C) throughout the year, I had a place of my own where people could visit and stay with me freely, my cousin could go back being single and come to the US to study, I had a dream job in a heavily unionized company to give me eternal job security and job satisfaction and I was eternally in the best shape of my life, without having to work at it like a dog. Sighhh if only we could have our tiny little dreams and wishes come true ;-).

There is no place like home...now wait a minute..

2009-07-27T11:16:00.000-07:00

I don't know how and I don't know when, but I have just suddenly realised. Seattle has made its way into my heart and has officially become my home. It has given me the right energy to be happy and content, to learn to take care of myself, to make new friends, to bring Nick (my wonderful trainer) in my life and to hike half way up the Glorious Mt. Rainier. From the moment I landed here, I have loved its snow capped mountains, its beautiful lakes, its wonderfully green landscapes and its perfect Summer days. I have enjoyed the snow, I have enjoyed my Sunday strolls in the Pike Place Market, I have even enjoyed the rain and most of all I have enjoyed making new friends. Here, I have restarted playing tennis and met my one true love, my dear car, which proudly displays a Washington license plate. And lately when I fly back from my weekend trips to Cali, I am not sad anymore. I guess I know that I am coming home.

Well...I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN BETTER!!. When in the past 33 years of my life I have ever found a place that would become my HOME? How could I, an Army brat by birth and an expatriate and an IT consultant by choice, yet again make the mistake of thinking some place is my home? Silly, Silly, Free Spirited DJS.

Friday, as I was about to walk out of work, my manager called me for an impromptu meeting. Anyone who has ever worked as a contractor would know that that is never a good thing. Uh-oh!! My manager, very likable person gave a speech about how amazing its been to work with me and what a great job i have done in the past year and a half, and how they regret having to let me go. He wished there was some way he could keep me at the company, but since they have an employee available to take over my tasks, they are forced to throw me out in perhaps the worst job market since the late President Roosevelt was in the oval office. Gee Thanks!!

So what if this was not a total surprise given that my own project had already come to a successful end and so what if my manager felt horrible and told me I still had 2 months at my current position and so what if I was originally hired for just 12 weeks. The bottom line remains the same. In two months I have to leave my home, again!! Sighhhhhhhhhhhh.

Since I am still here two more months, this will not be my Bon Voyage or Adieu Seattle post. However, this post will be used to vent and to reiterate what I wrote in a previous post and to remind myself why I have given me the name of the free spirit and why I have made my home in a 5x10 Public Storage unit.

The funny thing is that the announcement of my impending unemployment and removal from Seattle was met with my people finalizing plans to visit the emerald city in the month of August. The very same people I have been asking to come for a visit my entire 14 months stay. Talk about a reality check. Nonetheless, I am happy that the visits will make my time remaining in Seattle a fun-filled and eventful one. I intend to make full use of being employed, being with friends and family, training with Nick Jr. and using the good energy Seattle has given me to find work in my beloved California. I guess this is how it feels to be told you have only 2 months to live ;-) Ahhh not exactly, but it does make my evil side happy to know that I will be enjoying the remaining sunshiny days of Summer here, before leaving the poor Seattlites to fend against another loooong, snow-filled, gloomy winter. Huhuhuhahahhaa!!

I guess Life has brought no real surprises here and has acted just as I have always seen it act. So I will try to get ready to leave my new home and face another adventure in another part of the world. In the meantime I will enjoy being with my people while willing the job-market to pick up....

Hope You find Peace

2009-07-08T14:12:00.000-07:00

On a whole other note, I was quite saddened by the tragic death of Michael Jackson. Of course the US media has started its usual crazy non-stop Story Coverage Extravaganza. Every channel is scrutinizing every aspect of MJ's life, death, music and controversies.
I never paid too much attention to what happened in his personal life, since what’s that got to do with his talent and amazing vocal and dance abilities. Also, since I didn’t live in the US until 5 years ago. But, I do know that we cannot expect a man who has never lived a regular life or learned what society considers as normal, to behave normally. His imbalance or eccentric tendencies are not unusual, given that he has always been famous, always been a star and always been treated as a money making machine. In fact, given all this, it surprises me that he was so aware of the dark and real side of the world. And given the greed, pressure and ugliness that surrounded him, he continued to be so passionate about his work.
Only God knows what the truth and reality of his life and death is, but what we all know is that he was one of the most talented entertainers of his time and a part of him will live forever through his music. R.I.P Michael.

I am with Family

2009-07-08T12:20:00.000-07:00

After a wonderful 4th of July weekend with my family, it was so hard to get back to my life in Seattle. I realised once again how hard it is to be away from the people I love. Being away from the people in Pakistan is hard enough, now I have to be away from the people in Cali? Especially now that two of my people from Pakistan are in Cali. And even though I have become a space whore (the typical syndrome of living the American way of life) and can generally be highly irritable to any questions or criticism about the way I do things and lead my life and of course loved ones tend to do both (question and criticise), I'd still prefer if they lived in the same town as me. Families are like that I guess. Cant live with them or without them.
Last week I had a mother of all migraines. It was awful and I spent hours trying interhcangebaly to hold down my water and food, to fall asleep and not to cry and yell "make it stop" at the top of my voice. Stop it didn't but I did eventually fall asleep. Usually when this devil takes over your body you do need to go through a full-blown exorcism of sorts to recover from it. For one whole day, I stayed away from sound, light, sun, computer, work, gym, food and most importantly all kinds of smells. I finally recovered long enough to fly to Cali fro the long weekend and enjoy my Friday with M. But lo and behold. Come Saturday morning the devil returns. Of course it didn't help that my three nephews squeal so much. I mean I never realised what a bunch of squealers they are. With each subsequent squeal my brain did a somersault in my skull. Finally my mother came in and offered to give me a head massage. Just like the old times when during my childhood migrainal episodes, Ami used to rub my head and completely exorcised the Devil. I wondered if it will still work. Sure enough, a head rub by Ami and couple of hours long nap, and I woke up headache less ready to enjoy the fireworks. Only mothers can do this :-)
I love 4th of July mainly because its usually the warmest of all the holidays in America and also because I love fireworks. Absolutely, completely and totally loveeeeeeeeeeee fireworks. No surprise that during the display I squealed just as loudly as my little nephews. Before the display they played all the old MJ songs. I danced on Billy Jean with Nephew number 2 on my shoulders. What fun. My oldest Nephew who obviously doesn't take after me on the dancing skills, kept bumping and running into people (mostly me) on purpose. Apparently, that is his dance move. Sighhhh!!!
Sunday was just as fun with a picnic at the beach followed by a Dosa with Papa and M. Yummm.
The highlight of the whole weekend, which made coming back here the hardest was my little angel telling me "Don't go!! This is your home! This is your new home!! Stay here!! This is your Family!!" Being that he isn't the most talkative of kids, this was so amazing and touching. Also amazing is the fact that I didn't start crying and cancel my flight :)

The rare Happy occasion calls for a rare cricket post

2009-06-24T12:42:00.000-07:00

I am so out of the loop of every kind, that it was only when Pakistan won the cricket world cup that I found out that the world cup had been in progress. But then I was just confused. World Cup? We won the world cup? Not the world cup? So after a trip to cricinfo.com I found out it was actually the 20/20 world cup. Twenty Twenty? Seriously? What happened to the 50/50 world cup? And when did 20/20 get promoted to international status? Wasn't 20/20 the format we used while playing cricket on the streets? I say we because I was once a star pinch-hitter. Of course I was eventually banned from participation by the neighborhood kids. I repeatedly refused to retrieve the ball that I hit into neighboring houses, while also refusing to Field or bowl. The kids were fed up and formed a committee to ban me from the local cricket scene. Of course I was crushed but since I was 22 at the time and they were mere middle schoolers, I bullied them into lifting the ban. Eventually they disappeared into a neighboring cricket scene and I turned my nervous energies to tennis. But I digress.
I was annoyed by the 20/20 cricket scene right from the beginning. I am one of those crazy people who still love the 5-day test matches. To me it is the true test of a team's caliber. Hence the name TEST. One day cricket is still enjoyable, but what is with the new human obsession of abbreviating everything. I guess people are running out of time and patience. Players like other professionals want to earn as much money as they can, in the shortest time possible. People are evolving and so is everything associated with them. The way they live, see, feel, think, co-habituate, work, eat, function, their tools, their lifestyles, their priorities, everything is on the change. Then why shouldn't the way they entertain themselves undergo some modifications as well? Of course which cricket enthusiast from my part of the world has ever considered the game as a form of entertainment? I was just as cricket crazy as my next compatriot for the longest time possible. In fact, it was the fact that I was so crazy that made me quit following the game so closely. The ups and downs that plague our team were enough to give me a stroke and so I just gave up.
Anyway, the point of this little rant is that good news in our country is so rare and happy occasions are so few and so far apart, especially of late that whether the latest evolution of my beloved game gets my approval or not, I am happy that my people got a reason to rejoice and our terrorist plagued cricket scene got a much needed break.
Of course the way we kicked Sri Lanka's butt is only icing on the cake. Because even though Sri Lanka and Pakistan are not great rivals, it gave me a reason to stick my tongue out at Guruji and go "looser, looser" lol.
Congratulations Pakistan, may you have more reasons to celebrate :-)

You have my number...lol

2009-06-19T09:55:00.000-07:00

Funny thing happened at work, embarrassing but funny. I am working on a project that involves implementation of a 3rd party software and since there are three groups involved, one of my tasks is that of project coordination. I regularly setup conference calls for status meetings. The contract negotiations which lasted 4 months had taken a toll on all parties involved and everyone was on the edge after a previous very very unpleasant almost deal breaker kind of a call. Finally couple of weeks back everything got signed and come Monday morning I send off a conference call invite to everyone so we could determine the next steps.
At meeting time, I dialed in and was waiting for people to join. Five minutes pass and only one person joins. We sit wondering whats going on, when my manager gets on the call and he is laughing his head off. He asks me if I did this on purpose? I am clueless as to what "this" was. While he is still laughing, being the cool guy he is. I start getting emails from the 3rd party consultants that it seems the dial-in number may have an error and if I was sure this is the number I intended them to use. To my embarrassment it turns out the dial-in number I send off was for something called "Exciting Talks". I was mortified, but to cover it up I send out an email saying, just thought we all needed some relaxation and now that we have all had our fun lets get down to business. It did break the ice though.
Curiously enough one of the 3rd party consultants never made it for the conference call. Hmm, perhaps someone got too "excited" to talk ;)

Life goes On

2009-06-13T15:19:00.000-07:00

Turns out the whole situation with my brother was not so bad as it had seemed. At least according to him. But it did make me realise that I should try and have a relationship with my adorable niece and whatever transpired between Brother dear and the rest of the family has nothing to do with me, at least not directly. If he chooses to live his life a certain way and even though I think it is a horrible way, I can do nothing about it and I should just let things be.But what I can do is not completely give up on him and definitely not give up on being an awesome aunt to his daughter. I am a pretty awesome aunt. Ask my three nephews. Of course one of them has not started to talk yet and the middle one probably loves everyone, while the eldest, well he will never answer a controversial question like this. The point is, it just is too much of a baggage to carry, having a member of your family estranged. Having anyone estranged is too much for me. I cant even deal with someone being mad at me for a single night.
But there is nothing more special than family. I went to the airport last Saturday and stood outside the arrival gate with a pounding heart, expecting the worst. My parents came out looking fresh and rested and not much older than last year. I was relieved. Papa was telling me how much fun it was to travel business class. It seemed like they wouldn't have mind one bit if the pilot had taken an extra trip up to New York and back.
But I am glad, so glad that they are here. It feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Whenever they are here it just makes things better. It feels selfish when i am here and they are there alone. But when they are in the US it makes my being here okay. SO practically speaking i want them here for selfish reasons. The fact that they like being here with us and the kids makes it all the more right.Of course then I came back to Seattle and my parents stayed in the bay with Aapi, but it is still better that they are here with us.
Its graduation day at Seattle's UW and I happen to be in the neighborhood. It is such an exciting day in their young adult lives. The sense of accomplishment is so strong that it shines so brightly on the happy faces, both of the students and their families. But these are troubling times and the class of 2009 will have an early reality check as they look for work in this barely existing job market. Welcome to the real world, and that too so soon. Usually it takes a while to realise that the exciting real world that beckoned us while we trudged along in the hallways of our Alma maters, is more like a boot camp obstacle course, a series of myriad challenges. Of course, you don't have to worry about homework deadlines, mid-terms and finals and thesis and projects. But you will also no longer enjoy 4 months of vacation a year. You will have more money but you will also have more taxes, more responsibilities and more challenges. More to do at work, that is if you can find work. OK I will stop bumming out the class of 2009 now . They will deal with life themselves as they continue to discover its real meaning and their place in this universe as an employee, as a spouse as a parents and as a child of very old parents. Good luck to them.
Right now I am off to watch a movie and enjoy my Sunday evening, before another crazy work week begins.
Guruji has struck a friendship with Papa, I am nervous and happy at the same time. As long as Guruji behaves himself things should be okay. hmm Lets see.

I see RED!!!!!!!!!!

2009-06-03T11:20:00.000-07:00

I am so mad. I am so freaking angry that I can bust open someone's head. I am annoyed and really frustrated. But at the core of it all I am sad. No00. I am just sooooo maddddddddddd.
My moronic 37 years old brother is going to have an angiogram. An Angiogram to detect the blockage in his arteries. And the Doctors will then put a stunt in his heart. All this at 37!!!!!! 20 something years of smoking, bad diet and just not working out any more can catch up with you. I have not seen him in 3 yrs and haven't talked to him in 2. I am mad. At him. At myself. At everything.
I had to get up at 6 in the morning this whole week to get to work and work like a dog. I am helping a friend to manage somethings and every time I mess up teeny tiny bit, he just bites my head off. My 4 weeks long weight loss plateau has stretched into three months, even though I am working my butt off to get off of it. My car gets dirty one day after I get a car wash. But these things are just the crumbs. The bloody cake goes to my brother.
How could he do this to himself. How could he not think about his 6 yrs old daughter? He used to be active and was in great shape most of his life. He is in the Army for God sake. And few setbacks in life and he goes A-wall on everyone, on himself, on his health. I am not unreasonable. I know him. I know him better than anyone else does. I understand him. Even though we have been estranged, reasons for which are far too complex and personal to be disclosed on this blog. Oh what the hell my three readers already know the entire soap opera. But that's not the point. If you decide you want to live life on your terms and make your own decisions, then you have a duty, a responsibility to take care of yourself. You don't screw up with people in your family because they have been trying to help you and say I can take care of myself so back off and then go on to screw your own self. Grrrrrr. This makes me so mad. I know exactly how the bull feels in the bull fighting arena. I see red too.
I bet if anyone reads this, they will think i am such a heartless bitch and why cant i be a little more sympathetic. After all he is my only brother. But what can I say, 30 years of standing by someone's side and seeing them mess everything up one after another, and that too when they are smart and brilliant and capable of achieving anything in the world, can set you up with so much anger that no other emotion can force its way into your heart.
He has had some tough breaks as well, no doubt about it. Things that he wanted, things that meant so much to him, always ended up in a shitty mess. And even though Karma is a bitch, not everyone has it come and bite their asses like it has chewed my poor brother's behind. Well he is my true brother in that sense.
My brother of late is not the brother I love and feel sad about or wish all health and happiness and peace of heart and mind for. That brother of mine is smart, funny, intelligent, talented, sensitive and extremely caring. That is the brother I miss and that is the brother that wants me to hunt him down and beat the crap out of, stunt and all.
I will call him tonight. After all we came from the same place and despite the history full of disagreements, we are still family. May Allah bless your troubled soul.

Smooth Sailing

2009-05-30T00:50:00.000-07:00

A long weekend spent with two of my favorite people along the Pacific Coastal Highway and a whirlwind short work week marked by a killer migraine and an annoying anal Systems Analyst later, I hit another weekend running. I am tired and all I plan to do is sleep or enjoy the sunny warm weather that has decided to grace us - the lowly inhabitants of Pacific northwest, with its presence.
The trip down the coast was fun. I absolutely love San Diego. If only I could get a job down there, I would move there in a second. But driving down I realised once again just how crazy LA traffic really is. Of course I still drove fast to my heart's content, which was fun after being stuck under Seattle's 60 mph lame speed limit. And of course Guru ji gave me a lecture on tail gating and asked me ever so often "Whats your rush??". I want to clarify once again dear Guru ji, I do not tail gate and I am an awesome driver. And after patiently witnessing the never ending arguments between Guruji and me for 3 years, M finally lost it and screamed out "Ufffffffffff, Just stop it, you guys have so much stamina for this," Well, Duh!! You didn't figure it out. We love to explain and lecture and argue and then we argue some more. Discussion is the root cause of our flourishing friendship. I mean Guruji and mine, yours and mine not so much ;).
Anyway, on the way back I got a really bad case of motion sickness. The winding route seemed never ending and most of all that had been in my tummy made its way out in whaler cafe's ladies room. Gross, I know. But this in turn caused the killer migraine that has been the bane of my existence since. But that is something I have had to deal with most of my life. And M keeps telling me to push something up my nostril and pass it through the other. Ewwwww sounds painful to me.
So after relaxing this weekend I get all ready to receive my parents who get here on the 6th. I fly down to Cali Thursday just for this. Haven't seen them in about a year. I am excited yet a little apprehensive. Every time I see them after a passage of time, they seem to have grown older and that is both uncomfortable and scary. I guess the toughest part of growing up is to watch your parents become a weaker, slower versions of their former selves. We all want them to be around forever and the prospect of loosing them terrifies us. At least it terrifies me. On top of it I feel all wrong living so far away from them and not utilizing the time I have left with them. I know this sounds extremely morbid, and hopefully they will be around for years to come, healthy and able. It just feels 100 times better when they are visiting us here and enjoying the three babies. I miss them so much. One more week to go.
Oh a trip to the Yellowstone park is on the horizon and since I have wanted to visit the place since I was 10 and read about the park in a national geographic magazine, I am sooo excited :)
Hmm, didn't realise how late it is. Time to hit the sack.
I know I have been changing the look of my blog. Just bored with it. Trying to find the right one. Lets see how long this one lasts.
Soo sleepy. Catch up on some shut eye.

In the Valley of Elah

2009-05-21T13:25:00.000-07:00

Last weekend in Seattle was so perfect. It was just awesome. I also finished my one whole year in Seattle. And even after a whole year I still cant get over how majestic Mt. Rainier is. It is simply amazing. There is a certain spot on I-5 north, you turn a corner on the hilltop and suddenly the breathtaking, grand splendor appears in front of you and you instantly go woww!!!...at least I do. Stunning. So on a sunny day that is one of the biggest perks (for me). You see Mt. Rainier, from everywhere.
The interesting point though of this weekend was a small pro-Palestine display that I chanced upon and that a group of students and teachers from UW had set up in the union square to mark the "Independence Day" of Israel. The display talked about the present day State of Palestine, Gaza and West Bank, the atrocities of war, history of Arab-Israel war and the ultimate hostile takeover of a country and a nation. The Seattle has historically been a liberal city and the Seattlites like to consider themselves very open-minded and tolerant. People read the material, watched the display, asked questions. This is one of those issues so close to my heart that it always brings tears to my eyes. I was tearfully watching and reading and gave one of the teachers an impression that I am perhaps a Palestinian myself. I told him no but I am from a country inching towards a violent future and this is something very close to my heart. One of those overwhelming facts that I can only feel but not necessarily describe. Not having a home, not having the security of a home, not having something that is your own, something that is yours but you cant hold on to, growing up with no hope, no future, no life. Getting so desperate as to resort to killing your own self to prove a point. So much hatred, so much waste, so much bloodshed. For what? Why? When does it end? I am with no one. I am against no one. I don't know what is right. I don't know what is wrong. All I know is that no amount of civilizing, no degree of progress, no level of sophistication can hide the fact that Humans are no better than some feral beasts and will always resort to violence of the worst kind to get what they want. I for one am disgusted.
The lone bearer of the Israeli flag amused me the most as he quietly stood on the corner of Pine and 4th making a point of his own. I wanted to ask him if he is showing solidarity with the Palestinian cause or just reminding us that there is always two sides to a picture.
One word - Genocide. A nation goes through it, survives, gets powerful and makes another nation go through it. That is the history of the world. it has been repeating itself over and over and over again. We are all aggressors. We are all victims. Who do we blame? Who do we feel sorry for?
Perhaps I should have spend my weekend just focused on the Mt. Rainier instead.

My better half

2009-05-13T12:14:00.000-07:00

Did you ever have someone a part of your life whom you loved so much, yet could not stand within a matter of minutes? A person who made your life miserable for many years but one day turned around to become your biggest support, who since then has been there whenever the going gets tough, who has believed in whatever you are doing just because you are doing it, and who in her sweet innocent ways has been so faithful, loyal and loving that you never ever truly felt alone. I have a person like that. A person I have shared everything with, literally. All 33 years of eventful and uneventful life! The clothes, the makeup, the bedroom, the 6 schools, the relatives, the family, the memories, the issues, the stories, the friends, the tears, the laughter, the fights, the power struggle, the long nights, the fears, the triumphs, the 20 houses, just about everything. In other words, she can be me in proxy. The one constant I am so grateful for, the one who I have been so proud of. My dearest sister who has given me years of love, support, tears, bruises, torture, catfights, heartache, friendship, clothes, money, makeup, dating cover ups, laughter, happiness, loyalty, shelter, a wonderful brother and three beautiful boys to love and cherish as my own, precisely in that order.
Seeing my sweet Aapi you can learn what compassion is, what defines strength of character and what is the true meaning of loyalty, unconditional love and support. The one person you will be lucky to have in your corner.
Ours was not always a happy union, far from it. The first 16 or so years of my life, we had a complex relationship. We were sisters so we loved one another, and she sometimes liked to show me off (“Sing a song for my friends”) but I think she found me annoying, and liked to boss me around, and on occasions beat me up. But she was loyal; even then, she was loyal. I was a weird little kid and people liked bullying me and she always defended me. Whatever signifies those years, whether it is our catfights or her undying loyalty and pride in me, they were not the happiest years of my life. My sister was moody and unpredictable and I found it very trying to be around her :). She didn’t share anything with me and I had to sneak around to borrow her clothes and makeup.
But then something happened. My sister turned 19 and became an entirely different person. She was on her way to becoming a doctor, she had a new best friend and she became the coolest older sister. Those were the best days of my life. My sister and I became the best of friends. The subsequent years saw never ending heart to hearts, sneaking out late night to get those KFC zinger burgers, planning the rendezvous with the boyfriend (mine), the study session breaks, the gossip sessions, the picnics, the ice lollies, the long walks, the fights, the making ups, the wedding, the heart ache, the separation, the gifts, the visits, the heart break, the baby, the move, the togetherness, more babies, more tears, more laughter, more life.
She is an amazing woman. She has always stood by what she believes in and has always lived the life with a devil may care attitude. It has always been about her family and now her kids. She is strong willed, determined and focused. She will say what it is and how it is and the world just has to deal with it. She has gone through and is going through some tough times and she may seem less dogged than she used to be (even to herself), but I know that she has the spirit of a fighter and a will of steel and she will bounce back because that’s what she does best. Bounce back!!
Aapi I wish you knew how strong you are and how very proud I am of you. What you have done and what you do every day is no small feat and it makes you extraordinary. You are the same little girl who with her will changed the course of her life and now, as an adult, doing it for the people around you. You have made me want to be a better person and you have helped me be a better person and now you do it for others around you. I have always seen you do more than what is required, as a daughter, as a sister, as a student, as a doctor, as a wife and now as a mother. You are simply awesome, and I take it as an immense blessing to have a sister like you. May God bless you in every possible way.

Conflict

2009-05-12T13:17:00.000-07:00

I have never considered myself a very intelligent person. I don’t understand most things brainy. I could never balance chemical equations, solve trigonometric problems, or understand geometric theorems. I especially find myself at loss when it comes to anything related to simple or compound interest. I remember sitting at the Nissan dealership nodding at the salesperson and guru ji as they told me about my principal and interest payments, hoping I didn't look as lost as I really was. I also can never figure out how much tip to give (10% of 21.90 is???). Aptitude tests became my enemy at an early age (word problems have given me many a sleepless nights). I couldn't care less if train A left station B at 3:00 pm and train B left station A at 4:00 pm and the stations are 20 miles apart, at what time will the trains passed each other. Another thing which freaks me out is anything which has a lot special characters (^&**(^}{}{$#@!{*}) and loops and triggers. Yes I tried so hard to grasp the principles of C++ but God bless my poor brain that never did care about how things work. Human minds? Yes! Machines and software? NO!!
I have no idea if this mental deficiency is caused by a birth defect or by my mother’s stern mathematical tuition or by really bad math and science teachers. I did always love my language and history teachers though. Whatever may be the cause of it; my mathematical and scientific deficiencies have convinced me I am probably not the smartest of people. My two masters’ degrees can not convince me otherwise, even though both had plenty to do with all things mathematical…ugh, there is no way around it, is there?
My Brother in Law (AB) recently asked me how much APR do I pay on my credit card and I became completely paralyzed. The words APR freeze my mind and I can no longer think or comprehend anything. AB went on to explain something about my car payments and stuff like that and all I could say was, “what do you think I should do, I trust you, tell me what to do and I will do it” lol!!
After graduating I ended up in the field of information technology and so began the torture that will last me a lifetime or so it seems. I can last only so long. There is only so much code related jargon that I can take and there are only so many brainy people I can tolerate the company of. Engineers freak me out and developers may altogether be from another planet.
The point is that I have convinced myself that I am not smart Math is my nemesis and the world is all about math. Wherever you go whatever you do, it finds you and then you have to do a little more than just add and subtract. I don’t even know why I get a tax refund. I take the money happily but I am not sure how and why I get it.
People think I am smart and they tell me so too, but I just don’t believe them. I feel like I am an impostor, walking around looking oh so intelligent with my two masters degree smartly tucked away in my impressive portfolio. I can talk the talk but fail miserably at the walk and I know it.
So not knowing things technical, mathematical or financial really make me dumb? Does it actually imply that I have sub par intelligence because I have failed to grasp the concept of percentages?
Who decided what is normal or genius? Who decided what is standard? We are so brainwashed into believing what is acceptable and intelligent or what is normal that we get prejudiced against our very own self. And if we are prejudiced against our own self then how can we expect not to have prejudices against others?
I come from a place where if you are not capable of becoming an engineer or can not become a doctor you are basically not smart enough. My world is about words not numbers. My world is about feelings and not logic. My understanding is of emotions and psychology and not theories. I may not be super book-smart but I do have wisdom of my own.
I realize this yet I am convinced I am not smart. What does this mean? What does this signify? That we are all stuck to judge things by the hypocritical and illogical standards created by humans just like us who neither had the vision nor the understanding of what progress is really about. Progress is about change. It is about the people who bring about these changes. People who defy the very standards of normalcy and reject the norms by which the world expects them to live.
I spend the first 28 years of my life in a state of confusion and the next 3 in a state of embarrassment and being defensive about my knowledge and capabilities. But now I have realized what being your own person is all about. I may not know the principles of applied integration and differentiation but I do understand what the characteristics of Dickensian prose are and how they demonstrate the writer’s profound understanding of human psyche and hypocritical societal tendencies of his time (or any time). And I may not understand how a software works but I do know how the unconscious mind manipulates a person and shapes his or her personality based on certain experiences and stimuli. (making me a more tolerant person;))
I just might be smarter than I thought. Lets see 10% of 21.90 is...

Few of the many incidents...that tell me we need to visit the ENT

2009-04-28T10:19:00.000-07:00

M and Guruji are driving back from the airport. M is telling Guru ji about this couple who are on again off again and who are on again. She tells guruji that they are willing to try it and plan to do it 201%.
Guruji: Huh???
M: What?
Guruji: How can they do that?
M: What do you mean?
Guruji: And how will it help them?
M: Huh?
Guruji: Doing it with 201 persons..how will that help their relationship?

M and I are on the phone trying to figure out where we can go for the long weekend.
Me: Well we can always go to Yosemite for a day.
M: Yes yes (Hyper and willing as ever)
Me: But it might be too crowded.
M: Yeah aur journey bhi buhut hai. (its a a long journey)
Me: Hain?? Garmi? It wont be hot...you are weird at 59F you cry its too cold and at 65F you cry its too hot.
M: Grami nahi journey...
Me: jeremy???
M: aaa??
Me: what is that?
M: journey journey (yelling into the phone)
Me: Oh journeyy!!!!

Me sitting in a meeting. The presenter is giving us a presentation about the new tools and processes that will be utilized for the new project. It is 8:00 am and I am hungry and I can hardly pay any attention. Suddenly I hear the presenter talk about the "tormentor"
Presenter: You will find the "tormentor" on the website and it will tell you what to do.
Me thinking: Tormentor?? What the heck is that? And why would they name it Tormentor.
The presenter continues to talk about the "tormentor for 5 minutes and I keep thinking What the heck is that? Finally someone from the audience says "So when we access the "Tool Mentor" will we be able to see...."
Me: Oh TOOL MENTOR not Tormentor!!!!

Plateau

2009-04-24T11:31:00.000-07:00

I am working hard. I am eating right. I am training every day. I can now run 20 mins instead of the 1 I could barely run 4 months back. I feel better than I have in a long time. And I absolutely adore my trainer, of course ;) I am happy and excited.

I happily eat and train my way into April and run straight into a wall. No matter how hard I try I keep hitting the wall and I get nowhere. Its frustrating and annoying and worst of all demotivating. The only thing that keeps me from giving up is the money that has gone to my "adorable trainer". I talk about it constantly and my trio of sweet well-wishers can only do so much to keep themselves from choking me. Probably the fact that I have 850 miles between them and myself helps tremendously. But can I do? When you work so hard to achieve a goal, every road block seems like a nuisance or at least a universal conspiracy to keep you from gaining your happiness.
Three weeks of the needle pointing the same number on the weight machine pushes me off my rocker and I glare angrily at Nick as he makes me run at 9 mph for a final 1 min sprint. He smiles and I tell him how much I hate him. He takes it. I feel horrible.
I am in tears as Nick tells me that I have hit my first plateau and there is nothing I can do except keep going. I feel nervous and wonder if I will forever stay at this same weight and never ever get back in shape. Nick reads my mind and says no. Aapi tells me don't give up. Guruji is annoyed but patiently tells me its temporary and M just says "hmmmmmmmmm just keep at it bhaeeee".
And then I realise something. Isn't life just like this? You work so hard and do everything right and expect certain things to happen and some of them do happen, but then you hit a plateau. No matter how hard you try, no matter how much you want things to move forward, it all remains just the same. Nothing works and life becomes stagnant. The needle on the "wait machine" pretty much signals at "the rut" and all you can really do is to "keep at it". You just cant give up. You have to keep doing the right things and wait for the time when you are shown a way to climb past the plateau. All you can do is keep yourself motivated, be consistent and hope for the best. If you give up you will never know what was on the other side of the wall and all your life you will keep wondering.
We have all had our shares of plateaus. Some of us might right now be up against a wall. And it may all seem so hopeless and pointless and we may feel we will forever be up against this wall and things will never change. But we all know they do. At least I know they do. And once we are able to climb over the wall, we get things which were beyond our expectations.
So the moral of the story, success doesn't come easy and goals are not easily achieved. And a few those who got things easily are mere flukes or myths. A way for the universe to tease and test the majority of us who have to work our butts off to get anywhere in life. Not giving up and working hard. That's the key.
Soooo what do I do? I apologize to Nick, study my actions closely and honestly to identify the loose bricks and replace them, log my days accurately and stay as far away from the chocolates as I possibly can. Negative energy not allowed :)
This morning I stowed the weight machine in the storage room.

Women

2009-04-01T13:17:00.000-07:00

What I don't like about socializing is the gossip, drama and politics that usually comes with it. That is the prime reason why I almost decided to give up on humanity and become a recluse.
Historically women and I have not gotten along. For a dramatic emotional woman I could never deal with the drama and emotional complexities of other women. Either I gave them too much or too little. Either they made fun of me or became overly attached (or both). Either they were too needy or too manipulative (or both). Either they made me feel inferior or just wanted to prove their superiority. All in all they wanted me to pull my hair out and run for the hills (or the ocean, whichever was closer). Of course I am generalizing because then there were a few of those who were cool (might I add, like me) and I felt so at ease with them that they made the torture of finding them almost worthwhile. But I still am of the opinion that guys make so much better friends than girls (if only the hormones wouldn't come into play!!). Not because they are not humans but because they are emotionally lazy(to manipulate), non-possessive and extremely logical and practical. They basically think and want to prove that they are super cool and that makes them fun to be with.
I recently joined a group of girls to hang out with. And soon after one of the girls (girlA) started bitching about some other girl (girl B, who I have never met), saying that the girl B bitches about her all the time. Hellooo???? You are doing the same thing!!! Another girl (girl C) told me its because of her that the two girls started arguing because girl A wanted to prove to girl B that girl C was her better friend because girl B had a party and invited girl A only if girl C wouldn't come, but girl A said she wouldn't come if girl C wasn't invited which forced girl B to invite girl C but resented her for not not sending her RSVP till the day before the party. Meantime girl B (who I still haven't met) send me msg on facebook about how much she wants to meet me which girl A read and started warning me about what a bitch girl B is while girl C is like I am partial and have told girl A not to fight with girl B over me but then girl C said I don't like girl B only because she bitched about her MIL and called her a bitch. Also girl A started texting me love u miss and you awesome after meeting me twice. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa??????????????????
Also, girl C who likes me as well wants to hang out with me only if I keep it a secret from Girl A and B because they are so jealous and possessive. Furthermore girl D (hehehe) who desperately wants to be part of our group (apparently I'm in a group) and whom I really liked, is snubbed by girls A, B and C because she is not, hear this, "cool enough".
ARE YOU KIDDING ME WITH THIS??????????????????????????????
And the scariest part is that these women are in their 30s, married with kids. Like, seriously??
Although this is a bit annoying, I no longer want to run for the hills or pull my hair and even though this is very high school, I am all grown up and can deal with the whole lot very diplomatically. Besides you cant really put a price on good entertainment and of course I really get along with their husbands :)

Life as it is

2009-03-25T11:42:00.000-07:00

After a long time, or so it seems, life has gotten into some form of a routine. It is not exciting but it is a welcome change. The two years that followed my graduation were so unpredictable and volatile, that they almost cost me the normal functioning of my brain and eyes, and gave me a close resemblance to a WWF wrestler. Fifteen pounds, eleven months at the same job and affording an auto loan later, I find myself eating better, sleeping better and thinking better. I spend my time working, training and sleeping.
Learning to take care of your own self is such a task. I never realised how much easier and rewarding it is to take care of others, at least for me. In comparison, eating my vitamins or sleeping 8 hours every night just does not cut it, at least for me. But I am learning.
I learn that if you stick in a routine long enough you do get rewarded.
I learn that breakfast is the most important meal of the day.
I learn that working out will treat insomnia.
I learn that healthy food does make you feel good about yourself. Much more than chocolates, since it is a long lasting feeling.
I learn that I too can enjoy routines. Papa will be so proud.

But there is one problem. I am worried when my life takes the next volatile turn, my routine will be the first thing that I abandon. No good!!! My new found affection is probably not deep enough or old enough to make it past the test of time. I just don't see myself eating carrots when I am stressed out. Veggies are just not cut out to be comfort food. Oh well!! Cross the bridge when you come to it. For now I will enjoy the stability, the peace and the quiet of my present life. Tomorrow is another day.

On a different note, my parents are planning to visit us in May and I couldn't be happier. I feel so much more peaceful when they are in the US with either me or Aapi. My 3 nephews who are of course the most adorable people in my life, thoroughly entertain Papa, who happens to make one cool grand father. In other words the boys are the bait we use to lure the grand parents across the 7 oceans.
The oldest who just turned 7 is like a information sponge and he can make play dough out of your brain in 30 mins flat with his question answer session. These days the topic of concentration is the Native Americans. The middle one who is the most adorable lil boy in the world and the most engaging, can make any human being smile. Then comes the baby, and what can one say about a eleven months old bundle of joy.
And so my parents are coming and we try not to take it personally that we are not really the people they come to see. We are not as cute and having been with them for more than three decades, our novelty is just worn off. And even though my trainer made me do spider crawls all over the gym yesterday, I just don't think it is a picture that would make my parents go all mush, at least not with warm affection.

And last piece of exciting news is that I am going to the Pakistan Day event here in Seattle. My simple ABCD friend informed me about it and wondered why we are having it now instead of in August. I told her that Pakistan Day is in fact in March and August 14th is the Independence day. She was like ohhhhhhh!!!! So yes I am going and I am excited because, I have not participated in anything patriotic since my graduation. The funny thing is that I have no idea what the event is all about. Element of surprise. I just hope it is not bunch of know it all ex-pat Pakistanis talking about how the problems of the unfortunate country can be solved. Most of them have not lived in or visited the country in ages and somehow feel that they have done their national duty by giving a speech once a year. Sadly, I am becoming one of them. Hopefully not for long.

Tis the Season...to freeze to death

2009-03-10T13:23:00.000-07:00

So its cold yet again. It snowed yet again and yet again I am frozen to the very core of my bones. Before I came to the US I used to love winters but those were the winters of Islamabad. Where covered in a shawl you could sit endlessly under the sun eating oranges and only come inside to cuddle in front of a gas heater along with the rest of the family. It was so cozy and comfy and fun. Romantic even :)
But here, life is all about waiting for the summers. The sun doesn't comes out but twice a month, or so it seems. It rains and rains and then rains some more. And then it snows. I love the snow, it is so pretty, but what comes after snow is unbearable, bone breaking freeze. I hate that feeling. I wonder how people lived under such conditions before electricity and gas were discovered and all they had was wood and fire. No wonder they hardly ever reached the age of 40.
The year I came to the US, Northern California experienced an unusually cold and wet winter. I remember being cold, all the time throughout the first two semesters. I was the idiot sitting inside the class in a thick down jacket, gloves and scarf, still shivering and complaining about how cold it was. Those days, I had to wake up at 6:30 to catch the train to work everyday. It was torture. Most days I cried as I walked the 20 mins walk from the train station to work and 30 mins back, under unceasing rain, with cars splashing rain water on me. I felt like some desolate Dickens Character.
Summer came and I got a job On-Campus and I fell in love with California all over again. Since then my body has acclimatized to the weather here but I really don't like the winters anymore.
And after spending almost an year in Seattle, I really don't enjoy rain anymore either. I, like all my American hosts, love the summers and live for the days when it will be warm and sunny. When people will walk around the streets happy and cheerful. I get it now. We used to think the white people are insane for hating the rain and loving the sun so much specially since their skins wrinkle and burn under it. But I get it now.
Of course, last summer when I was visiting Miami and the place was hit by a tropical storm, I was the only one going crazy, happily jumping up and down under the warm torrential rain along the beach. People were running for cover and all I could think was about how much it reminded me of the monsoon rains of Karachi. People thought I am insane but I didn't care.
So I guess given the right circumstances I will enjoy all things nature :)
Meantime, please God let it be spring in Seattle, this cold is torturous.

What Next??

2009-03-03T13:24:00.000-08:00

So sad and so depressed. My world as I knew it is changing and it is changing for the worse. It is a sad sad day. And I have no words to describe what I feel and what I want to say and what I am thinking. This is how it feels. To fall out of a tall building. To come spiralling down to meet your demise. I am numb as is the rest of the population of Pakistan. I am numb and I turn my head the other way, in shame perhaps.
Srilanka is not a newbie when it comes to acts of terror as it has its own share of traumas to deal with. Srilankans though know the two adversaries of their war. There is no mistaking who is the enemy on either side. The agenda is known. The reasons are known. The war is old, known and accepted. There is no denial.
We as a nation are numb and confused. Who is attacking us? The Indians? Talibans? or the Americans?
We are in Denial. These people who attack us are not Pakistanis! These people have no connection to Pakistan! These are not Muslims! We are not at war! This is only NWFP's problem!
We don't know the agenda behind this craziness. What do they want to from us? Why would they do this? They would never attack the cricketers? If we just look the other way and close our eyes, this will go away.
We are not shocked, we are just numb. Heartless? Perhaps not. We just don't want to be responsible to fix this. We hope someone or something else will come and fix this.
Sri Lanka Cricket team did us a favour by visiting Pakistan. They understood what it feels like to be outcast as a terrorised state. They came and they paid for it. Why are we surprised? Didn't New Zealand's team get attacked a few years back?
Life as we knew it is gone...we are just too damn numb AND PROUD to accept it or maybe we are too selfish to accept it and do something about it. The Pink elephant in the room. As long as you don't see it you don't have to do anything about it.
Wake up Morons. We are a nation under attack, a nation at war. There is a divide in the nation. The fundamentalists Vs the liberals. They are a part of us. They maybe supported by other countries or organizations but they are not non-Pakistanis and they are not non-Muslims. They may have taken their faith too far and we may not agree with their approach towards religion but they justify all their actions in the light of their belief system. That in itself should alarm us enough to scare the living daylights out of us. They are here, in Karachi, in Lahore and in Islamabad. They have attacked any and every city, town, village. They live among us. We don't recognize them because they are part of us. They are here.
Sadly, our Government, our legal and judicial system, our police force, our bureaucracy, our Army and our people are not ready or willing to acknowledge this or deal with it. We are not prepared for the war and not prepared to take the responsibility.
Is this the beginning of the end? The country, the ideology, the people are all under threat of extinction, are we willing to stand by, watch and not do anything? Is there no hope? Are we cursed for this annihilation? I don't have any answers...I used to, but not anymore...

The weekend

2009-03-03T10:04:00.001-08:00

Moved into the new place last weekend. I had help this time so that helped. I didn't pull my back and didn't sit crying on my apartment stairs and no neighbors had to take pity on me and load my heavy suitcases in the truck. I arranged so that I don't have a repeat of such an event.
By the time I moved out S.N. had gotten over the initial disappointment of my moving out of her condo. She was her true sweet Christian self. She even helped me get my stuff together and took the things I had separated for goodwill off my hands and made the trip herself. I was truly touched and felt good that I had moved out on such good terms.
The weekend went well as Guruji was visiting me :) He accompanied me to the gym and met with my trainer (yes yes I am trying to get in shape and eventually train for the marathon :))It was so weird. I had a flashback of all the times when my parents came to meet with my teachers. Of course those meetings never went as smoothly as this one did. Guruji started harassing my poor trainer with workout related inquiries which he politely answered. I am regularly annoyed by Guruji's obsession with his non-existent fat. He looks like a dried-up prune thanks to his daily regimen of 10-miles walk and a hike up mission peak (elevation of 2,517 feet). But he insists that he must reduce the fat..aaa right, the fat in your head :). Here I am trying to get my sorry ass to the gym day after day and trying to count every calorie I consume so I can reduce the serious fat on my body. And here comes the man who can pass for someone half his age harassing MY trainer. Back off mister!!! lol
Hey Guruji You know I love you and I am so proud of you for your military like discipline. I wish I had half your dedication. But for God sake go and have some Chimichangas and a dozen dunkin donuts and have mercy on those legs of yours.
Speaking of my trainer, I have a huge crush on him lol. Hey that helps with the motivation right?? lol. Well do you blame me. This is the man I see most regularly, he is super sweet and sincere and has blonde hairs and blue eyes. Did I mention he is really really sweet? Crush or no crush I am really focused on getting back in my groove and the trainer and my dried up friend both help me stay motivated and I am grateful to have them on my side :)
So I was talking about moving in the new place. As soon as I went home last night, I realised my room is smaller than I thought it was. The new place has no garage or storage. I think I was sleep walking when I picked this place. Nonetheless It is a nice apartment and I managed to fit everything in and make it presentable. I lay down to sleep last night and I realised the freeway is only a few yards away from my window. It sounded like I was sleeping next to the ocean. Oh well...I will get used to it. It is I-90 which is probably the least busy of all Seattle freeways and I don't go to sleep until midnight. So all in all no complaints. My roommate seems like a wonderful chilled out person, who is only home 4 days a week. So now I am at house number 23 :)
I will sign off now have to do some work...oh ya once in a while i work at work ;)

You have got mail...NOT!!

2009-02-23T12:55:00.000-08:00

I am a queen of procrastination. I procrastinate tasks till there is no room for procrastination. And there is nothing I procrastinate more than mailing stuff. I absolutely hate mailing stuff. My level of paranoia doesn't allow me to drop things off in a post box. I need to go to the post office and stand in line and give the letter to the person at the desk. I am not satisfied unless I have had the USPS people stamp the parcel and give me a receipt. To make matters worse, the only time I did drop a letter in the mail box directly, someone stole the enclosed cheque and cashed it leaving me to deal with a fraud claim. Guess what resulted from that...three more letters that I had to mail. It took me three months to get the whole thing settled just because I could not make a trip to the post office. Yes yes I know I am lazy, I am an indolent fool when it comes to mailing things. Every tax season, I finish my returns by early March. Still, every year on April 15th, I find myself running into a post office as they are just about to close the doors, writing the address on the envelopes while standing in line.
Recently I found out that the USPS is holding me in contempt for keeping it so low on my priority list. There is a very very patient man living somewhere in Illinois who is expecting a package from me since early December. Every week we talk and every week he inquires about the package. Every week my answer is the same, I will mail it tomorrow for sure. That tomorrow didn't come until mid February. I was so excited as I walked out of the post office and instantly I informed the man via email about this great accomplishment. A week later I opened my mail box and sitting in there looking somewhat triumphant was the very same package. I screamed at it and asked what it was doing there. Fortunately, the package didn't reply but the note on it said address error. I cursed myself and kicked myself all the way back to my room. Sighhh...there was no error, the address is fine. I checked. It is just USPS getting back at me. First the stolen cheque and now this. I am calling the Washington Post Master General or whatever the heck he is called.
The funny thing is that this disease is quite old and chronic. I remember writing letters to my brother and my best friend Saira and forgetting to mail them. When they came home for a visit I would give them the letters so they knew that I had been thinking about them.
Now I have to mail the package again i.e. if the Illinois gentleman is still interested :). You can expect it sometime this year.
I am telling you with so much to remember, bills to pay, people to call, documents to fax, deadlines to meet who has the time to mail anyone anything. By the way I procrastinate most of the things I just mentioned. I guess I just love the drama of the last minute. The panicking the running around, the tension, the rush. Like I said it is a disease. There is no way out of it :(
I am thinking carrier pigeons...

Warning: I am venting here

2009-02-12T14:25:00.000-08:00

"Some resentment did arise at a perseverance so selfish and ungenerous" - Jane Austen from "Mansfield Park"

I told my roommate about my plans of moving out. We have lived together not more than 3 months and we get along just fine, no arguments or misunderstanding. She is an awesome lady and I love her cat and I am quite comfortable with the living condition. So why am I moving? Well lets just say after several bad experiences in my life I have decided to always listen to my instincts and my instincts tell me to leave.

The reasons are there and they are not all perfect and strong. Firstly, we had a certain agreement at the time I moved in and she turned back on her word and kind of created a bad taste in my mouth. Secondly, my commute has increased to 30 miles a day, a situation not at all agreeable to me. Lastly, I don't want to live in a place where I may feel I need to justify my actions or words to a person not at all rightful of these justifications. She had made it very clear that she is looking out for herself and so I decided to do the same. and told her that I'm moving.

Since that day she has made it her duty to argue against all my reasons for moving out. I tell her each time my mind has not changed and each time she argues against it and tells me to re-think my decision. All her arguments are valid. All her arguments are directed to make me feel guilty enough to change my mind. All her arguments look out for her well-being and not my comfort. She is looking out for herself and making me feel bad for doing the same. She is not doing it consciously perhaps. But it is serving the purpose, I feel guilty as hell!!

And I would have believed that she is forcing me to reconsider by mere kindness of heart or loving feelings that she may have towards me, if she wouldn't keep mentioning that it is such a financial burden and inconvenience to find a replacement and that she might have to rent out her condo and that she will have to move in with her parents. She is picky about who she lets in the house. The conversation is never ending.

Last night she followed me to the bathroom door and had this conversation for the fourth time while I was holding more than just my patience. I equal this to torture.

I admire her perseverance, but her tactics are all so unfair. I feel so responsible for her potential homelessness that I am almost ready to disregard my instincts. But I must not.

Please Miss SN, my dear land lady. Back off!!! You should never have asked me to move in under false pretences. Next time be honest and upfront. And now stop asking me to reconsider and let me move out in peace. Stop giving me guilt trips that would put my mother's innocent attempts at forcing guilt induced matrimony on me, to shame.

Who I am is who I want to be

2009-02-06T16:55:00.000-08:00

When I was a little girl I knew very clearly what I want and what is important. I was a very shy kid. Never saying much and not asking for anything. Ami til this day says that I was the sweetest little kid but I knew what I wanted and my thoughts were pretty clear on that.
For example when I saw an aunty or an uncle with a kid on her or his lap, whether their own or someone else's, I would very confidently go over, push the child aside and put my seat on the very lap. I don't remember doing this but everyone older than me remembers it.
If anyone asked me if I like my mom better or dad (a very common questions among people in my country, I have no idea if they ask the same question anywhere else, but in Pakistan they always do, yes even now!!). Unlike other children I blatantly would answer, "Papa". Yes my mother was amused the first few times, the next 30 yrs not so much :)
Every time anyone asked me what I wanted to be when I grow up, I almost always replied, "Dulhan" - translation=Bride. Yes, I know. My childhood dream is still a dream lol.
As a child, your instincts are sharp enough to make you like or dislike someone. And the only reason I behaved or went to some of the people's houses was because my mom had long ago mastered the "if looks could kill, you wud be dead" look. Otherwise I had already made up my mind about which of my aunts were good and which ones bad. Time showed that my judgement was pretty good. Aapi knows what I am talking about.
Growing up means accepting the grays in life, the unknowns, the what nexts. Our experiences cloud our judgements, realism mars our dreams. We tend to rely more on what we see rather than what our instincts tell us. We are so consumed by being liked and accepted that we forget who we really are. We compromise, we conform, we sacrifice, we break apart and then we are just fixer uppers. To each its own. We loose our faith in some things, while our confidence wavers so many times.
Sometimes I miss being that little girl. So quiet and mysterious yet whenever she opened her mouth, it was with so much faith and confidence.
I lost her along the way, somewhere, a while back. But , I often think about that girl. She makes me trust my instincts again. She makes me believe in my dreams. She makes me believe in my my love and who I love. She makes me believe in goodness and compassion and reminds me what it was like to have faith in all that is good and pure.
Our roots, our true form, our true essence is the person who we were before the world took us over. We have to connect with that person to remind ourselves who we really are and not who we want to be and who we should be. After all we cant truly be happy unless we know our very own self.

Home is where the heart is

2009-01-31T02:23:00.001-08:00

The homesickness and Nostalgia that I have been feeling off late has not lost its original intensity. If anything it has been consistently on rise. Nostalgia is but natural for a person with my level of solitude. Also I have 2 and a half decade worth of memories. I have a memory of an elephant ( I have always resented this analogy). I have had an interesting life and I have had some really sweet people come into my life at various junctures. So all in all Nostalgia is justified.

Now some people may ask what is it that I miss about home, especially under the current circumstances where it may not be the most desirable place for a vast majority of people - Pakistani or otherwise. Also, by the grace of God my parents visit us often enough and my sweet aapi and her adorable 3 kiddies live but a two hour flight away. So Why do I miss home? The traffic is better here, there are no electricity outages, no one comes and feels (or pinches) my gluteus maximusarea (more frankly called - the ass) in a crowded mall, there is definitely much less pollution. No one wonders about my doomed unmarried existence and sighs wistfully. People are more courteous and less ill-tempered, and no one stops me at the traffic light on gunpoint and snatches my cellphone and gold bangles (never happened to me in or out of Karachi).

But there is so much more to my country and to my city than can ever be shown in CNN special report or described in a NY Times article. That never reaches the media does it?

Well that is what I miss about home, what not many people know, hear, see or feel. I am happy to be in the US since I have found a lot of things here that I never had before or I had somehow lost. But home is where the heart is and part of my heart will always be in Pakistan.

This post is not a patriotic attempt to raise the image of a country so plagued with trouble and terror. I am just a homeless soul living in a five-star hotel, trying to remember what gave me immense pleasure in my run down, modest abode, which cant quite compare with the happiness that I feel here. Despite the noise and disorderliness. Whats missing?

The unceasing moist sea breeze. People that share your worries, grief and happiness (whether you want it or not, such is there sincerity). Rickshaws. Eid/Ramadan get-togethers. Family picnics on the beach. Family picnics on Hub farm. Family picnics on Bibi's farm (any farm for that matter). PIDC paan. Chand Raat. Bargaining with Pathans. Beating up Pathans. Getting pinched by Pathans (scratch that one). The prayers and good wishes of elders. Love and attention of people. The sky at night in Karachi. Nani Maa's roof top. Raza and his nonsensical talks. Saira and our rendezvous. Tennis with ex-best friend. Monsoon. Mangoes. Electricity Outages. Secret Phone calls. Kabab Rolls. Bhaiya. Sunday Bazar. Cricket matches at national stadium. Junoon concerts. Driving in Karachi. S phupoo. Ex best friend's mom. Lil one who left me in Cali. Bohri Bazar. Bohri Bazar Chat. Family outings at BBQ Tonight. Five of us together. Traffic sergeants. My little hawker friends who sold flowers on traffic lights. The undying spirit of Karachihites. My Tailor. Zamzama. KU and KU friends. KG Library. Sea view. Breakfast at Boat Basin. Driving on Sharae-faisal 2:00 am in the morning. Gajak. MY sister when she was single. My sister's best friend when she was single. Zainab Market (I know its not the same anymore but what is?) Guavas. Sabri nehari. The ability to go out and eat anything at any hour of the day. Quetta. Bus trip to Quetta. Weddings (yes I miss them. The bride, the food, the reason to deck up and check out good looking guys...they hardly exist in Karachi but that never stopped us). All the family ladies when they were not aunties lol. And, and , and....

The list will go on. Its never ending. I am homesick for the home that is so influenced by my nostalgic tendencies. Some of the things on my list wont be there when I go back home, but they are part of what is missing. I am aware of it.

Things you leave behind, things that are kept away from your reach, things that make up your person, your mind, your past and present. Things that forever remain important no matter how far away they maybe. Things if harmed or damaged, hurt you in ways you never deem possible. Things that will remain your identity. My home, for me, is all such things and more.

Allah tumhari hifaazat karay. May God bless our Home.

Coffee anyone?

2009-01-25T02:55:00.000-08:00

So I finally decided to make Seattle my own. The 3-months stint in the emerald city has turned into a much needed/anticipated longer adventure (thank God for that, given the conditions of the economy) and I am not complaining, despite the unceasing greyness of the city. Sun is like God in Seattle. You have to believe in its existence without ever seeing it. Its this blind faith that gets the Seattlites through the morbidness of fall, winter and spring. But I digress.

Don't get me wrong. Cali will always remain my home away from home but since I do need to feed my baby (the car - need you ask?) and occasionally myself, I am more than happy to stay and provide my services to the Washington branch of corporate America.

So I am staying, hopefully for a while. But to stay here indefinitely, I need to make it my own. And for that I have to find my Seattle people. Not knowing a soul in this city can be a recipe for suicide. Noooo, Seattle does not have the highest rate of suicide in the country (Correct answer: veeegggaaasss). But it does have the highest rate of coffee consumption. Which means, Seattlites socialize to survive.

When in Rome do as the Romas so tonight I went to socialize. It was a good experience, which made me realise, I have finally accepted Seattle as my new home. I also realised that not many people my age are single :) But that just makes me seem cooler for some reason. To the married women that is. Cooler or just more weird. Either way I just feel cool lol.

So the point is I have finally arrived in Seattle. Whether I will find my people or not, it remains to be seen.

To be an extension of you

2009-01-20T17:07:00.000-08:00

I always knew. I was always aware. His ever so vigilant eyes, his expectations, his acute disappointment. I always felt it. I never doubted his love but I wasn't always sure if he likes me. His is the person that has forever been larger than life for me. If I say, I actually worshipped the very ground that he walked on, it would not be an exaggeration. He is the epitome of perfection if ever there was one. His wisdom, his courage, his personality, his discipline, his style, his knowledge, his worldliness. I am not his only admirer. He is liked and revered by many.
But he was my sun, my life revolved around him and till this day I love no one more than I love him.
I have seen him in the true light of reality. I have seen him weak and I have seen him broken. But he always rose above it all. He has always proved that with courage and fortitude a person can restart after every failure and after each fall. I saw him do so time and time again. The perseverance is undeniable and so is his remarkable ability to bounce back. He taught me so much in life and about life. About friendship, about relationships. He gave me wings to fly, he gave me the freedom to fail, make mistakes and grow up.
But it had not always been perfect. Far from it. For the longest of times, I wanted to be seen and heard by him. Not just for what I did not have or I did not do, but for what I did have and I did do. But it seemed he saw no good. It was disappointing and it was evident. His words were the most hurtful and they hurt the most. I felt alone and I stopped caring. Perhaps, it was his way of making me realise what I should be and what I can become and do. But all it did was make the most difficult time of my life even harder and more lonely. So I stopped caring. I turned my back to his every knowing, ever disapproving eyes and became involved in the meaninglessness of my life. But I always knew. We started drifting apart and I thought it was all over. Not my love and admiration for him, but my quest to win over his liking and respect for myself.
He understood my pain and he was empathetic but he recognized by restlessness more than I did and the fighter in him would not believe that I was willing to give up and settle. Perhaps he wanted me to be an extension of him. I know I did. I still do.
When I set out on this new journey, my goals were clear. I wanted to escape the mindlessness of my then current life and his ever disappointed looks. Perhaps not the most idealistic of motivating factors, but I knew I could not stay with him anymore. It broke my heart and I don't think I can ever overcome the pain of leaving him behind. But leave him is what I did. He let me fly away with a heavy heart and tearful eyes. And I saw his love, his hope and his dreams for me in that one moment. I knew I was escaping nothing because I would always know.
And that is what drove me, to work hard, to get beyond just settling for the average. It pushed me to achieve my goals. To show him that I can fly as high as he expected me to.
I saw him several times in the last four and a half years. He always seemed pleased with the way things have turned out and ever so quietly our relationship changed shape again. He became a special friend, a confidant. I was too scared to hope but I actually felt his respect and love.
Few weeks ago, I received an email from him. As I scanned the lines, I had sort of an out of body experience. I re-read it a few times to make sure that the gist of the email truly sinks into my mind. He had opened his heart to me and I saw in those lines what I did seek for most of my life. His love, his respect and his pride in me. He needed no more proof and he is peaceful. And this is the new knowledge that I will hopefully live with for the rest of my life.
Papa, you remember when I was a wee bit of a girl, I would wait for you to come home every afternoon. And the moment you saw me you would lift me up and place me on your shoulders. I would double over with joy and reach up to touch the ceiling. I felt so tall and so strong so much so that if I had wanted I could have touched the sky and picked out all the stars. Do you remember how happy that made me? Well that's how tall and strong and happy that email of yours made me. Just like the girl on your shoulders, I became an extension of you.

The true Dog Lover

2009-01-14T03:01:00.000-08:00

I have been wanting to adopt a dog for as long as I can remember. I love dogs. Everyone who knows me knows that. But most of the people who do know me, know very little about dogs. They assume since I like dogs, I probably like all kinds of dogs. And everywhere we go they show me dogs and expect me to go bonkers over every canine that comes within my peripheral vision. But God didn't create all dogs as equal and neither did he make them to have similar personalities. Like people dogs have different creeds, personalities and temperaments. Meaning I don't like them all. I don't like the stupid, ferocious creatures that thing every human limb is a chew toy. I don't like the mouse-like, wannabe dogs. I don't like the tiny Pomeranians who just bark and bark and then bark some more. I also don't like most female dogs (they are the reason why we use the B word as a curse).

But show me a Labrador or a golden retriever and I just have to go over and pet them. And of course they sense my comfort and warm up just as quickly. Oh well they are the friendliest dogs in the world. But given their size people might get scared. But all they can attack you with is slobber.

Well the real reason why I love dogs is the way they love the human beings. Their undying loyalty, devotion and affection towards our race. It is like they haven't received the memo yet. Humans are not really all that great. They are selfish folks who are capable of unspeakable monstrosity and even though they claim to be civilized, they can be clueless to the notions of coexistence, tolerance and compassion. But do they care? Of course not. All they see in their human is a master who must be loved and obeyed till the very last breath of life. That's whats in their genes and that's what they know. They have an enormous grasp of human feelings and moods. They pick them up accurately and its remarkable.

Humans can learn a lot from their canine friends. Their capacity to love, their ceaseless loyalty, their non-judgemental and forgiving nature, the way they live and love life and enjoy it even when their bodies get taken over by arthritis and they loose the sense of sight, sound and at times smell. Even then they will play with you and they will love you.

The idea of the post was not to write an essay about dogs. It was just to talk about how much I love dogs and how badly I want to have one. Given my nomadic lifestyle and the newest addition to my family (my car), I don't think the timing is right. But I do know that somewhere in this world is pair of beautiful yellow Labradors (male and female) who someday will make a beautiful and special puppy, just for me.I have a name picked out already.

I am a wee bit lost

2009-01-13T14:45:00.000-08:00

So far this new year has been a comedy of error of sorts. I had been meaning to watch Marley and me ever since its release Christmas day. The reviews have been lukewarm but I still wanted to watch it because I loved the book, I love Labradors and I love watching movies. So anyway last week I finally got back to Seattle and went to the theatre where I am a regular. I went to the ticket kiosk and tried to purchase the ticket. For some reason the kiosk refused all my credit cards. I spent 10 mins trying out all my debit and credit cards but to no avail. Since the line at the box office was long, I wanted to buy my ticket at the kiosk. Everyone around me seemed to be doing OK using the machine. I started fearing something was wrong with my accounts, but all of them? I finally gave up, stood in the box office line for another 10 mins and barely made it in time for the previews. No problem using the card there. Hmm strange.

Few days later, I was leaving the parking structure at my gym when the same thing happened. No matter how hard I tried my credit card was not getting processed. Three cars behind me waited somewhat patiently as I tried all my cards. They finally gave up and drove to the other exit. But I was stuck. Suddenly I swiped my card, magnetic strip facing upward. Sure enough the payment got processed and I was free to go. Huh?? I don't remember ever swiping my card with the magnetic strip facing upward.

This weekend I went for another movie (yes I do love watching movies) and the same thing happened at the kiosk. I kept swiping the card and it just didn't work. Then the rain man in me saw light. I swiped the card, magnetic strip facing up. It worked. Again. Is this something new? Who is tricking us? Magnetic strip is always facing downward, isn't it?

Tonight, as I walk into the huge wamu building which houses my gym, I see a couple standing in front of the elevator. The guy looks at me and smiles hopefully.
The guy: Do you know if Daniel's Brother is in this building
Me thinking: Daniel? who the hell is Daniel?
Me talking: I am sorry, but I don't know
The guy: Hmm maybe its the other building
Me talking: Yes, perhaps.
The guy looks at the girl and then back at me
Me: This building is all offices. I don't think anyone lives here.
The guy: huh? No no Daniel's brother is a restaurant.
I try to laugh but they just keep looking at me. Thankfully the elevator door closes shut at that precise moment.

Hello, 2009

2009-01-09T12:13:00.000-08:00

I have discovered that the only place I can get myself to blog is at work. I never meant to take such a long hiatus from my blog, but no matter how hard I tried I could not get myself to cough up a decent post while on vacation. Not even to mark the new year. But this week I am back at work and the first thing I am doing after clearing my desk is write this post. But then it makes sense. It makes me feel like I am getting paid to work as a columnist. That thought in itself is so stimulating for my creative juices to start flowing.

So anyway I am back at work and more importantly in the land of non-stop rain. Its freezing, its raining and its depressing. Makes me want to whine. Too bad I wasn't blogging in sunny California, I would have blogged about nice, bright, sunny stuff, for a change. But here I am writing my first post of the new year and already I am complaining. OK maybe I will rein back and just focus on my vacation and talk about it and the new year.

So, aside from helping my sister move, getting huge doses of love from my darling asadee and spending QT (quality time) wid M, Guru ji and aapi, I did pretty much nothing. There is something about being with your loved ones. It is so warm and comforting and just so...right. You don't really need to do anything and its the most fun you will ever have.
Of course that's not always the case. If you are frustrated and unhappy in your life, you may be annoyed by the presence of the very same people. They start seeming too intrusive or too self-involved and less empathetic than ever or even too sympathetic.

I remember when I was jobless and stranded in Cali, I just had no patience with my people. I just could not get them to speak up or shut up, take notice or stop noticing, be sympathetic or stop smothering. Nothing they did was right and everything they did was annoying. I am not saying I was a total bitch or they were saints, but it was just better to be alone. When I landed in Seattle, I had heaved a sigh of relief to be away from everyone. I knew that feeling wouldn't last and it didn't. I missed them so much that I had flown back the next weekend.
So this vacation I did nothing other than be with my people. It was so relaxing and enjoyable and it was mainly due to the fairly calm state of my mind. I truly had no worries and no commitments and no where that I needed to be.

I also got in touch with some of my old people from another lifetime. That was sort of bittersweet, and brought on a wave of nostalgia and homesickness that has somewhat stayed with me. These days, I find myself looking at old pictures, calling my relatives and watching old Pakistani dramas and shows on you tube. I guess I am low on carbon-monoxide and desperately need a trip to the city of candle lights and mini buses. Two and a half years is a long time.

Coming back to my loved ones. It seems that I am always traveling in the opposite side of things than them. My boom is usually their slum and vice versa. So of course now that I am kind of doing OK, aapi, guru ji and M are not so much. That was a bit annoying to know that we are all not OK at once but Moi, my sweet lil sister from another mother, told me this:

Moi: That is tough, but there should be one sane person in all the madness.
Me: Ya or an insane one in all the normality (remembering the jobless bitch)

That was amusing and comforting. But of course, its now my turn to pay back. I am ready to be the rock in their world or at least the joker. If anything, I can make them smile.

Anyway, the vacation was a nice change of pace and I loved every minute of it, including the baby-sitting that ended in me passed out on a chair baby in arms and toddler on lap lol!! Also the horrible flu that I got from the baby, that still has me sounding like Rani mukerjee with a sore throat (yeah its that bad). Also, the horrible fight that M and I had. Also, painting the bedrooms in aapi's new house (I absolutely loved that). Also the packing and the movie drought. Also, the cooking that I was forced to do for a party (M is not so nice is she).

New Year started with me dancing at a party. That is my very first time. I have never entered a new year dancing lol. The New Year also saw me miss my One-time best friend's wedding :(. It also saw me fight with aapi, M and Guru all in one night lol. It also saw me end my vacation, leave my sweet sunny California and fly back to my rueful rainy Washington.

So now that I am done with this bulletin-like post, I wish my handful of readers a happy new year (i have wished most of you anyway). I hope this will bring you all a world of success and happiness and me a few more readers :)

I wanna Fly

2008-12-19T20:26:00.000-08:00

So what follows a snow storm?? Well lots of things - Road blocks, traffic delays, icy roads, sub-degree temperatures, bad colds and of course flight delays.

So I am starting my holiday season by flying down to sunny California and I have made two mistakes. I chose the weekend before Christmas and I chose a weekend after a snow storm. Oh and there is another one, I chose to do this in Seattle.
Seattle maybe a great city but it does not know how to deal with a snow storm of any magnitude. We got about a foot of snow and the whole of Seattle greater area came to a slipping sliding halt. The place has been iced to perfection, literally. Reason being, historically the area has not been prone to snow storms until a few years ago and each passing year the city gets a bigger and whiter surprise than the last one. Hello global warming :)
Given the situation, its natural that the shuttle dropped me at the airport 5 hours before the flight and its also natural that the airline is sneakingly adding five more minutes to the scheduled flight time every 20 mins or so. It now stands at 11:00 pm, 2 1/2 hrs later than the original time. Poor M will have to drive in the middle of the night to pick me up at the airport.
So seeing that I am stuck here for a while I decided to write a blog on people that are sitting around me:

A fifty something white guy who has removed his shoes, obviously oblivious or perhaps uncaring of the weird smell and conspicuous brownness of his white socks.

A really friendly over weight Hispanic guy in a weird poop color shirt. Should I tell him that?

A guy looking over his shoulder from behind me, making me feel like he is reading this blog.

A man hogging the only electric outlet at Gate B10, pretending to not notice that I need to use it as well. Finders keepers I guess, discourteous but keepers.

A Marine officer and his wife, who have the tendency to talk to a person at the same time. They finish each other's sentences and sometimes they are talking about completely different things. Again to the same person.

A bitchy woman with extraordinarily sweet and well-behaved boys. Maybe they are making up for their mother's lack of courtesy, manners and friendliness. Maybe they are adopted. Maybe they are like their dad. Their dad sounds nice ;)

An Asian person whose sex I cannot guess. I think its a girl, no no its a boy, no a girl, no a boy. I sound schizophrenic.

A woman stuck in the 1960s and should really get her first haircut in 40 yrs. It is 2008 for God sake!!

A man who is able to sleep through so much noise and chaos. Oh how I envy him.

A person who finished 15 sudoku puzzles in the past 60 mins. Wow, I am impressed. If only he were cute as well.

A desi guy who likes to stare, for no apparent reason. And when I look at him he pretends he wasn't looking. How unusual and non-desi (lol)

Two cute little girls. The younger one is getting more attention from fellow passengers and the older is pulling all sorts of stunts just so she can share some of the limelight. Poor baby.

An unnamed, unfaced child displaying his vocal prowess by screaming in the 8th octave, consistently for the past 60 mins. Something tells me this is a desi child. Such talent, such persistence and such pig-headiness. Bravo!!!

A weird South Asian girl, who is observing people like...well like a South Asian person. She looks like she hasn't slept in ages and needs to shampoo her hair. She does have a super cute red laptop and brown boots though. Ah, wait a minute!! When did they put a mirror on that wall...

Latest on the snow and the car :)

2008-12-18T13:26:00.000-08:00

I have always said this. Snow is the prettiest thing I have ever seen, specially when it falls down. It is my first real snow. Well first real snow in a place that I reside in. So I have to deal with the daily chores in snow and worry about things like my car and driving in the snow. After the below described car waxing experience, I decided to chill out and let snow take its course :) Here is my car in the mild snow storm that Sammamish Plateau (the small pretty lil town east of Seattle) had this morning. That meant no work :). (Hourly employees should get paid on snow day now, come on!!)

why do i even bother??

2008-12-15T12:03:00.000-08:00

Various events in the last three decades have made me accept certain things about my life. Some of them being:
I should never make plans.I should not prepare for the worst and hope for the best. I should just do nothing.I will get really good things in life, but not before I have made an utter fool of myself and suffered long enough to almost give up hope. So no need to panic just enjoy the sunny days on beach.

God loves me. I am a good person, I take care of people, I am compassionate, I am righteous etc. etc. etc. But most of all because I can provide constant and pleasurable entertainment to his otherwise mundane and tedious days.I am a waiter. My life will be spent waiting, literally. I will not be satisfied with the present and I will wait for a better, brighter and fun-filled future.But sometimes accepting is not enough. I am genetically programmed to plan, prepare, expect and panic. I am extremely impatient and hate to wait and every time my life becomes a sitcom episode for God Almighty's entertainment, I get annoyed and frustrated. Its like I have no learning curve.

So I bought a new car :). I feel proud and happy, and am extremely careful. So imagine my concern when the weather man reported of an Arctic storm heading to the western Washington area. Snow, rain, winds. Oh no!!! So My genetic instinct told me I need to cover the car with a cover and make sure no snow gets to it. I have to be extra careful. So I go buy the cover and Friday night under the slushy rain, I covered my car and hoped it will be safe and sound.Come Sunday morning I wake up to a snow covered landscape. everything was white and beautiful and other than the below freezing temperature, it was all so perfect. I decided to go out for a walk and went outside. I could see my car cover was covered with a layer of snow. I felt so smart and happy for doing such a good job of protecting my car. See sometimes it helps to plan and prepare. As I was thinking this, I also thought about how well the cover fitted the car and all that wind had done nothing to disturb it. Odd??I pulled up the cover to make sure there were no scratches or damage of any kind. The cover did not budge. I pulled again and it gave in with a sound very much like the sound of someone waxing the legs. Oh yes...the cover was frozen to the surface of the car. "Oh nooooo!!' I wailed.

After carefully separating the cover from the car, all the while cursing, crying and praying, I stood back to see the damage. Gasp!! my beautiful car looked like a used wax strip. The lint from the car cover was frozen all over the shiny black surface. I was horrified. Panicking, I hurried inside and grabbed a wet towel to remove the lint. Of course the genius in me didn't factor the below freezing temperature and my towel turned into ice as soon as i stepped out. I tried to clean a part of the car to make sure no damage was done. The lint came off and there was no damage but the water instantly iced on the surface. It was like being stuck in a vicious cycle. So I stepped away from the car and screamed. "Stupid, Stupid, Stupid". I could see the neighbors watch on with concern. A mother even hurried her kids inside obviously nervous with the outburst. I decided to call it a day. At 11:00 am, I did just that.

This morning on my way to work, I stopped by to check on my beloved car. It gleamed under the sun. The ice had melted and the lint was nowhere to be found. I sighed as I got into my roommate's car avoiding her laughing eyes. Why do i even bother?Oh in case you are wondering, my new plan is to avoid the ice and potential car damage by carpooling with the roommate. I have no idea how this plan will end up.

Random Thoughts of An Idle Mind

2008-12-09T13:13:00.000-08:00

My mind refuses to cough up a decent post. I guess it is the gloomy weather or its the gloomy me or its just the way world is right now, depressing.

Nonetheless, I need to exercise the brain , this blog has to serve its purpose and I cannot go back into a writing drought of 5 yrs. SO i decided to write whatever comes to my mind. Today's post is dedicated to the randomness of my thoughts.Today I called up my favourite cousin in Pakistan to wish him a happy eid. As we talked i realised being grown up really sucks. Whats to like? Your responsibilities increase each passing day, you parents grow older and older, you have to take care of yourself, you need to know answers to all your questions, manage your money and your relationships. On top of all this, you have to work. **I really don't like my papa Ami getting old :( **
Awareness/knowledge/ambitions inversely proportional to contentment. The more we know, the more we expect from ourselves and our lives and more discontent we become. My mother's mother didn't even think she could be anything but a mother and didn't think husbands are supposed to do anything but provide, result: fairly content life. My mother felt she could do a little more than just be a regular housewife and mother and also felt my father needed to more attentive, result: not so content life. I grew up believing I could do anything I want, I expect to be a mother, a wife and career woman and I want a husband who is a partner in marriage, result: a schizophrenic, sort of discontent life. Hence proven, ignorance can be bliss.
Why cant an hourly paid employee take a paid sick day off or get paid for public holidays. I can work on Christmas but I cant since the office is closed. I cant even switch Christmas day with Eid day if I wanted. I work on Eid day, I can work on Christmas day. But I cant since the office is closed, so how come they don't pay me. PAY ME NOWWWW
Seattle is rainy and green and has more company head offices than Id like to count. It is here that Tom Hanks was sleepless, and it is here that Frasier was listening and its where Dr. McDreamy found love again. It is a really gorgeous, dreamy place. Every time I sit in a warm coffee place with a fireplace and old Sinatra or Dean martin music, rain pouring softly against the window panes, I feel like I am part of a Black and White Hollywood movie and any minute a Gregory Peck look-alike will walk in through the door and sweep me off my feet. Hmmmmm maybe I should stop drinking coffee. *sigh*
When do I wash my car? It is new and it is black and it lives in Seattle. The day it rains you cant see if it is dirty, on the days it doesn't rain it looks like a black and Brown polka-dot car. But if I wash it , it will rain the next day and the cycle will continue. Sooo when is the rain going to stop? anyone?
So are we constantly trying to recreate the time when we were the happiest? The most unadulterated, unbroken happiness? The time when our spirits and our minds were fully integrated. No conflict, no sadness and no discontentment. When every dawn was brighter than the last, when anything was possible and when our laughter was as pure as it can be. No time measures up to it and no company measures up to the company we had then. At some sub-conscious level, perhaps we are. Is it fair, perhaps not.
When is too much hard work...too much? When do you know you should quit? When do you know it is OK to give up and that no matter how much you stretch out your resources you will not be able to accomplish what you are trying to achieve. And how can you give up without feeling like a failure?
I see too many people running on the treadmill single-minded as if running away from some unseen ghosts and demons. They are too thin already. They are too fit. What are they trying to proof? Hmmm wow this was such a deep thought. Maybe worth a post.
Why doesn't it rain the day I have my umbrella and am wearing my rain boots? Sunny days, I leave home in my nice coat, wearing my suede boots, and by afternoon its raining. Why is God having so much fun at my expense, or rather at the expense of my boots. I love my shoes :(
My mind works non-stop and the thoughts never seem to end. How will I ever end this post?
Diesel - my new roommate's two year old cat hates me. Animals have always loved me but he hates me. He is black with white paws and he likes to bite. A cat that bites, please tell me I'm not the only one who thinks this is weird.
My new roommate doesn't want me to say "Oh my God!!" when I am at home and she is around. All I say to that...OH MY GOD!!!!!!!
I am tired and its almost time to go home. I have a yoga class to go to and hopefully I have taken all my thoughts out here and now I can have a truly spiritual and mind/soul cleansing experience. Ommmmmmmmmm

Imagine

2008-12-03T02:55:00.001-08:00

I want to write a sweet song about hope, but I could never write poetry. God knows I tried. I could play with words in my native language Urdu, but composing lyrical perfection in English was something I could never achieve. So I gave up.

I want to write something deep and profound about the current hopeless and chaotic situation in South Asia. But my mind is too involved and my thoughts are too scattered. I don't want to make commentary on things that never change, the situation that remains as unresolved and absurd as it was 60 yrs ago. I don't want to talk about hatred. I don't want to talk about anger and terror and violence.

What I want to say what I want to write and what I would have tried to compose in my message of hope..is embodied in these beautiful words of John Lennon:

Imagine there's no heaven
It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people
Living for today...
Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too

Imagine all the people
Living life in peace...
You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one

Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man

Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world...
You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one

How I wish for Lennon's dream to come true. I guess we all need to be stoned to realize what the world is becoming and what we are transpiring through our ignorance, intolerance and unwillingness to feel, care, love and understand

I turn 8 tomorrow

2008-11-24T18:24:00.000-08:00

Once in third grade we were given a composition assignment that asked us to write about our parents. That in itself was not much of a challenge since at that age my entire world revolved around them. But it did pose as a threat to my parents’ sanity as my normal count of 100 questions per day quadrupled in a matter of minutes to get the information I needed to complete the said assignment.
During my quest to learn everything there is to know about my beloved Papa and Ami, I discovered that Ami is 33 yrs old. She is my mother and so she is older than me, but I remember being in awe of this fact - the fact that my mother was sooo old. Compared to my single digit existence, the number seemed phenomenal and I wondered how I would feel when I got that old. The prospect was scary. I was abnormally aware if not fully mature in my thoughts and had an almost inane capacity to understand the complexity, certainty and seriousness of several life issues – aging and death included. I really did think 33 was that much older!
Time flew by and tomorrow after many years of good and very few of not so good fortune, I turn 33. I know perspectives change and I am no longer eight, but the number does not sound scary or old anymore, and in some ways it really seems great. Of course what choice do I have and of course now 33 has to seem young and hip, but truthfully I have realized over the years that you are as old as you feel.
When I really think about that little girl looking at her mother with awe, I realize how mature and grown-up she was for her age. How burdened she used to feel because thoughts beyond her years used to plague her and how she felt truly incapable of being a normal third grader, carefree and full of life. Going by what I have learned about being as old as you feel, I was actually 55 in the third grade. In fact, most of my childhood was actually near retirement age.

Somewhere during the course of these 33 years of existence I secretly grew to my actual permanent and spiritual age and birthdays became mere reason for celebration and the numerical age, just a number. I now realize that age truly translates into spiritual beauty, health and the presence of love and peace in your life. So no matter what my age, I won’t feel old as long as I have all these things.

Maybe this post will make no sense to some people, while others will know exactly what I mean. In any case, I am more a free spirit now, than I ever was as an eight year old. Happy 8th birthday to me !!

BFF

2008-11-15T23:59:00.000-08:00

Stars in the eyes, head in the air. She is a friend, a sister, partner in crime and constant source of entertainment. She can be annoying and infuriating but she can be just as sweet and caring. She can be insightful but can be just as clueless. She makes me laugh till I have tears in my eyes and she can make me angry...till I have tears in my eyes.

A life that has given her lots of ups and downs has made her into a strong woman. Perhaps a woman of substance.

It is not easy to write about her. Its not that she is very complex or there isn't a whole lot to say about her. Its just that at this time I am talking to her on the phone (well mostly she is talking) She talks non-stop and I give her a hard time every now and then (I should add as always).

You know how people sit and think about different things, quietly, by themselves. Well M does it too...only with me as audience. I will either be sitting on her couch or will be at work reading her chat or will be on the other end of the phone, like right now.

Well now that I have hung up and I can think a bit more clearly, lets see if I can come up with more material. She will read this tomorrow, I am sure she will. I think she opens my blog every day secretly hoping that perhaps today I have mentioned her. Just kidding M. But you know you do...no no just kidding ;) (but you do, admit it lol)

She is smart (when she wants to be) , funny (read very funny), hyper (read extremely-bouncing off-the-walls-on-most-days-hyper), very caring , loving and sweet. I met her 2.5 years ago when my ex-friend/raakhee brother hooked her up with me as a roommate. We clicked instantly. She was all I wanted in a roommate plus I could boss her into cleaning and washing the dishes on time lol. I tell you it was meant to be.

We have had lots of ups and downs, some fights (mostly in New York), some distances (I am a nomad after all), some differences of opinion (I discuss/She thinks we are arguing ) and many endless nights of gossip, laughter and girl talk.

She has been a great friend, someone I can always be honest with, knowing full well she will not judge me. She tries to get me even when she has no idea what I am on about (lot of people feel that way, but she is a lot less vocal). She puts up with the drama in my world (and we all know there is plenty), and I try to help clean-up the messes in hers. She opens her house, her heart, her brand new car for those who give her unceasing love and support, and whom she loves unconditionally. I am lucky to be one of "those".

M, no matter how many times you will make me wanna beat you up and no matter how many times we fight (in and out of New York), and no matter how many times you have to step back to give me the space to change, I know that we will find our way back to each other, because friendships like ours can actually brave the test of time. You, me and Guru ji, truly make "threes, a company".

The crazy, great-hearted, totally clueless M. Love ya girl.

I am sorry aunties

2008-11-10T23:59:00.000-08:00

I am over the hill (by Desi standards 28 is the hill) and I should be desperate to tie the knot. What is wrong with me? I always disappoint the aunties in my family. (they are just not cool like my mom)

They wanted the girl to be good and respectful who doesn't laugh loudly; most days Eskimos could hear me laugh all the way from the land of the pure. They wanted girls not to hang out with guys and play cricket on the road; I would bully the kids into letting me play even at the age of 21. They wanted the girls to learn how to cook; I am still living off of Maggie noodles. They thought it was not right for girls to play tennis um ever; I lived to be on the court every single day, rain or shine (even though I was just average). The aunties thought it wrong to marry out of choice; I was in love two months after I joined my university. They looked down at a girl and a guy being best friends; my best friend was a guy and his sister and his brother and his mom (they still are, him I don't know). They didn't think it was possible for girls to go out alone after dark; I was rampaging around the city of lights in a rickshaw (with my father's permission of course, i am not completely insolent). They believed marriage is the ultimate destination in a girl's life; Bull shit!!! They felt it was awful that I was abandoning my parents and being so selfish to go to US for further studies; I did not want to wait for a husband anymore (yes the love did not last, please don't pick at my wounds). They are too shocked to say, think or believe anything anymore; I live in the US and there are no aunties here. But secretly, they think I am over the hill and should be desperate enough to marry any Tom, Dick or Harry, or in this case any Imran, Farhan or Kamran; I am not.

I am sorry aunties, I disappoint you yet another time. I don't mean to. Trust me its not my sole aim in life to piss you all off, it is just an added advantage. I love you all so much, but your "haey beechaari" has taken its toll on me and I am avoiding you all like the plague. Oh you didn't think it was on purpose? I am also avoiding all those daughters of yours who have turned into an extension of you and want to preach me on how it is my duty to be a mom, as a true Muslim woman (huh??).

Admit it!! Married people cannot stand free, single people. You are a little envious aren't you? Surely at least a tad ? A free spirit that I am, aren't you dying to tie me up. You settled, you want me to compromise as well. No thanks.

I never had the same goals as you or your daughters for that matter. You never let them grow to their full potential but my parents did. And even though I truly appreciate your worries and concerns over my spiritual and mental well-being, I resist your attempts to tame me and black mail me; inducing feelings of guilt and shame by citing my parents' grief over my impending spinsterhood. For God sake. I am single, not morally corrupt. There is a difference.

I am sure I will repeatedly defy your expectations in the years to come because I live by own expectations. My expectations, my identity - not my husband's, my own. Thanks, but no thanks.

The Change

2008-11-06T13:47:00.001-08:00

I don't want to be political on my blog, but the new president-elect of the country I currently reside in, is worth at least a bit of a mention. Hence this post.

Elections in the US is like a circus. Its madness and I try not to engage in this madness. For instance the last presidential elections, I did not give a rat's ass about who comes into office because things were different. My country was not at the brink of disaster, the adopted country was not at the brink of disaster, I was not a taxpayer in the adopted country, none of the candidates were hot (I have always had a thing for articulate, tall, dark and handsome Sydney Poitier looks-alikes) and I did not think of this place as a home.

He has charisma, no question about it and that is one of the things that caught my interest and over the months I found him more and more appealing and suitable for the job in question (as compared to the rest? HELL yeah!!!). His suitability lies in the fact that he is different and he stands for change. The change is not just associated with the color of his skin or his background but also with his ideologies, his plans for the country, the way he conducted himself in the elections. He is just...different. Now whether these differentiating qualities make him a successful president...only time will tell. He has a major mess to clean up, that's for sure so it will take time.

The fact that he plans to bomb my native country (expressed in so many words) scared me a bit but then McCain's sweet response "you just don't say some things out loud" scared me even more and made me realise we are screwed either way so what the hell. Obama is the lesser of the two evil.

American people are intelligent (the majority). They are not as naive as we like to think. They may live a self-involved life but they understand when to take a stand and when to draw a line and this is what makes them better than some of the other nations. They accept responsibility for their mistakes. Not everyone will agree with me but if you turn the pages of history, you will find this to be true. Every nation has made horrible mistakes in the name of power, wealth and religion but very few have actually stood up to their own to rectify these mistakes. People focus on "They did it", not many see "what happened after they did it". Don't get me wrong, they do it only when they get affected by it, but nonetheless they stand up and perpetuate the change. At least they are alive enough to understand their rights and have the courage to voice out their opinions. The law still matters, the system, though flawed, can still be depended on.

At the risk of sounding like a traitor (some people will think so I am sure), I admire this adopted country and I want the system to keep working. I came in this country a mere immigrant but I am hardly ever made to feel like an outsider. I have the same rights and I have the same set of laws to follow. I pay the same taxes and I am given the opportunity to learn and progress just as the rest of the people. This place still gives people an opportunity to start over and advance from whatever standard of life they had been leading. It is no paradise and its not perfect, but it is a home away from home.

Some of the past governments have compromised its image and the philosophy it was built on but with the new wave of change which was effected by the people through this election just might do the trick again. I for one hope so.

Good Luck President Obama.

The free Spirit

2008-11-03T11:48:00.000-08:00

What is with my need to be understood and accepted by my near and dear ones. I seek their understanding and their acceptance and approval for every aspect of my life. I have always wanted this and I still do. I want them to understand my point of view, I want them to approve of my choices and most of all I want them to believe in my dreams and ambitions and be OK with them and give me the support to fulfill them. I want them to accept my shortcomings, focus on my strengths and not ridicule and logicalize my fears, dismissing them as pure rubbish. I want them to understand me as a person and not look down at me because I fail to live up to their expectations. And most of all I want them to know I am not them and I may not be able to do the things they can do very easily. Understand me, understand my choices, understand my life, understand my fears, understand my shortcomings, understand me because I understand you.

We are all different, have our own experiences and our own stories. Our past shapes us into who we are and naturally we have different levels of comprehension and have our own limitations. We all have our own vices, strengths, fears and our own way of dealing with things. But then why do we want the people around us to behave the same as we do. We expect them to be an extension of us, just because we are connected to them, either through blood or through emotions.

Most of our lives' frustrations and disappointments are caused by our failed expectations. Expectations that we have from life, from those around us and from our own selves. So to say I have been disappointed because of my need to be understood will be the understatement of the century. It has not just disappointed me it has also never let me be free of their and my own expectations. I let it consume me. This in turn made me behave unfairly towards those I love, my family and my friends. My frustration caused by their lack of understanding combined with their expectations from me made be irritated and annoyed.

I get it now and so I accept it. I accept it all. Their limitations, their point of view and their lack of understanding. And if I think I do a better job of understanding and accepting them, then I also must remember those few in my life who have and still are doing an awesome job of understanding me . Why should we get everything that we want from each person we meet? After all everyone has a unique way of giving and it may not be what we want but it just might be something just as special. The wisdom is to accept what comes your way and give all you can without expecting anything in return.

All I want is to be free, in every sense of the word, whether its from my own expectations of others or theirs of me.

In God I believe

2008-10-28T11:24:00.000-07:00

On days bright and sunny rare as they are, I venture into the city to enjoy the views of the Puget Sound and hustle bustle of the Pike Place market. It is fun even without any company. It is actually good to be by yourself.
But you know what pisses me off? The fact that when some people see a person alone all by themselves, they assume that he/she is either weird, depressed or worse: open for conversation. Just because a person is alone does not mean she is lonely or pathetic or pitiful. You don't have to look at her apologetically or step away from her because you are not sure what will happen if you are too close and you definitely don't need to try and have a conversation with her. Especially not when she is sipping her wonderful cappuccino enjoying the rare sunny day in Pacific NW. And definitely not about her religious beliefs. Excuse me!!!!
There are things that make you self conscious when you are alone. The fact that almost all homeless people will ask you for money and make eye contact with you, thinking you are only a step above them. After all first sign of poverty is that your friends and family abandon you. Having food by yourself in a restaurant, how sad is that right? You can barely taste what you are eating as you gulp down the food because you can see people feeling sorry for you and your waiter looking almost apologetic.
But all this I can take, I have braved all kinds of eyes and looks and am actually able to smile at homeless people without freaking out. I know of people who wont/cant do that.
But what I cannot understand is that why do religious zealots think it to be their responsibility to target people like me in their quest to spread the word of God. We are alone but not necessarily lost or depressed or in search of God. We are just people enjoying the city and the sun and coffee. The idea that just because I am by myself I am lost and I need to find God is ridiculous. I know God, and him and I are OK. Nevertheless, they approach me, all the time. Maybe I just have a face of a non-believer or perhaps I look lost and depressed. Damn these dark circles.
Anyway last weekend I had a funny encounter of this kind. I was sitting on a bench, watching people go by as I sat in the sun enjoying my cappuccino when a Mexican couple strolled by and started taking pics of the bay. I didn't pay much attention since I was totally focused on this adorable yellow Labrador. I felt the couple circling my bench a few times and I thought that was weird. I tried to ignore them but suddenly they appeared in front of me and sat down on the bench across from mine. This is the conversation that followed:
Jose (I call him Jose coz there is a 80% chance that his name is Jose)': Hi
Me:Hi
Jose:It is nice today, yaa? ( heavy accent)
Me: Sure, it is gorgeous.
Jose: You from here.
Me: Yes ( by now I am thinking up my escape route, I am in no mood for idle chit chat)
Jose:You go to church
I had no answer, just ridiculous smile (Maybe I am wrong but aren't Mexicans Catholics and Catholics don't preach right?)
Jose: You believe in God
Me: Sure ( I get up)
Jose: You no go to church (with his accent should he even be preaching)
Me: No, I have to go...
Jose (getting up and cutting me off) Do you not say God help me, take me, take care of my life, i am here. (He throws his arms in the air looking up at the sky)
It was very theatrical and I would have made my escape then had it not been so...well theatrical. I could see his small Latina wife was a little embarrassed.
Me: Right
Jose: U go church and God help you ( he said emphatically, gesturing in earnest towards the sky).
Me: ummmm, do you guys want me to take your picture
Jose looks at his wife and says something in Spanish. I almost said exactly.
So after getting inspected by both of them as I took their picture, I quickly rushed off hoping Jose wont start an interpretive dance about Jesus.
I am all for religious freedom and have nothing against preaching do whatever makes you happy. But next time, target the guy in the huge group with a big family. Because even though he has people around him, he maybe the one lost or unhappy or in search of God. Even if he is not brown. You are wasting your time on me. I am already taken care of.

Nomad or Too bad

2008-10-23T10:31:00.000-07:00

2 countries, 22 homes (in 32 years), 9 schools (6 in first 10 yrs), 3 storage places and several rental cars later - I am moving again. Calling my lifestyle nomadic is probably the understatement of the year. The more I crave for some constant in life, the more it eludes me.
I am officially a homeless person and I can live in my car for all I care, only I don't have a car.

Yes yes yes, I whine, but I have good reason to whine. I am a person with no home, and its not a lifestyle I volunteered to have. My father made us move...a lot. Once he quit, my mom took over. After she decided it was time to settle down, I decided to switch continents. Now I have a job that makes me move. Fate? Misfortune? Luck? Genes? I believe all of the above. And now I am afraid when I do settle down by some stroke of luck I will find it so mundane and boring (poor guru ji). Maybe encompassed in my soul, is the soul of ibn-e-batuta or marco polo. I dont know!!

It is true that neither of my parents have called one place their home for more than 5 yrs. My father turns 70 this Dec. Hmmmm, if this is genetic it doesn't look too promising. You must be wondering, whats the big deal, so you move around a lot. How bad can it be right? Well its not bad at all. You get to meet new people, you get a new start at life (sort of) you explore a new place, get a new room, new neighbors, fresh new set of teachers/friends/co-workers etc. etc.
But there is a con side to it all and that is you get to meet new people, you get a new start at life (sort of) you explore a new place, get a new room, new neighbors, fresh new set of teachers/friends/co-workers etc. etc.

Think about it, you do get excited about change and all of the fun new things mentioned above. But the novelty of it all does disappear after the first few times as you realise:
Meeting new people is so overrated, people everywhere are annoying and judgemental, just because your environment changes you dont become a more interesting personit's no fun to make new friends when you are just as judgmental as others and no matter how many fresh starts you get at life, you will turn it into the same exact mess as before. The only thing one can really enjoy is exploring the new place, but once that is over you start missing the last place you really felt to be your home. Sad!!!! But you know what is more sad. The fact that now I am so used to having these changes and getting these new starts, I subconsciously deem it as my escape route and hope to get one when I get bored or stuck or just tired.
The fact is I get jealous, when people talk about the homes they lived in, their entire lives, or childhood friends they studied with throughout school or lived next door to all their lives. The way they refer to a city or town, or think about their neighborhoods. All the things I so wanted but never had. I was a shy quite child who had to go through the torture of starting at a new school every 2-3 yrs or leaving a house when I had finally found my true best friend next door.
But what I guess the bright side to it all is, I can live anywhere and I can relate to all sorts of people and I am more accommodating and perceptive than the people not exposed to different environments. This kind of understanding of people and cultures I will not exchange for any one school, town or house.

And while it is hard to adjust to a new home, new place, new people, new climate, new driving styles and I do still dream of having my own land and home in one place, I try and come to terms with the fact that perhaps my destiny and my life knows me better than I know myself, and that this one home, one place thing that I desire so much just might come back to bite me in the years to come or at least guru ji, definitely.

Wake-up you lazy bum

2008-10-15T14:58:00.000-07:00

I am so lazy these days to write anything. Maybe its the NW Pacific fall (cold and wet), maybe its the lack of audience and zero responses on my past 5 posts, or maybe I am just so God damn bored.
Maybe that's just it - I am so bored. I need some fun and excitement, I need something to look forward to, a job that makes me wanna jump out of the bed every morning or at least makes me wanna go to work or perhaps I need to travel or get a dog, or finally tie the knot or maybe try something new like Mary Jane or tequila or bungy jumping, or join a cult or become a Rasta or a nun or a cop or a fireman. Maybe I can finally learn how to swim or how to Tango or maybe I can finally take up carpentry and start writing my book, or maybe train for a marathon or or or...
How mundane does life have to get before you stop dreaming about things and start doing them. Of course I never dream about joining a cult or becoming a nun but some of the things mentioned above have been in my mind for the longest of time. I mean I would not be caught dead bungy jumping (only after maybe) but man I do want to dance like Julianne Hough.

The following passage is quoted from this blog I frequently visit: ..

"Most of us spend our life thinking of doing many a thing, but never get around to doing it. We blame it on time, and our ever packed schedules and working at jobs which majority of us are not in love with. Remember life by what you did and not by what you wanted to do. The right moment to do what you always wanted to do, is NOW! And stop caring what the world thinks!"

Although I was sad to see the extremely fun blog getting terminated, but his final words of wisdom struck a chord with me.
There is so much I wanna learn and try and do and I am just waiting for things to settle and then find the resources and time to do all this, but that is not going to happen is it? There will always be something stopping me from fulfilling my dreams. I am constantly using one excuse or the other to overcome the laziness caused by my boredom, which in turn is caused by the mundane nature of my life. That sounds sooo SAD.
So what should I do? Make a resolution to live each day as my last in this world and try to pick each one of dreams one by one and fulfilling them? Darn right I should. I will do just that and stop playing this waiting game
So here is a list of what I really want to do:

Start Smoking Pot and become a Rasta - dreadlocks is so my lookJoin a cult - this world is so over-ratedBecome a fireman - after the sex change operation of courseGet married next week ( sorry Guru Ji my mind is made up) and steal my neighbor's dog on my way out of SeattleWork on building my time machine...OK fine, that is not the real list of things I want to do. Smoking makes me sick, no cult would wanna keep me (they will take me, but not keep me), I am extremely happy being a woman and I cant possibly leave Seattle or my Guru Ji (awww). I am making all this up.The truth is I don't have a list right now and maybe I don't want to keep a list. I just want to live in this moment and for now. But what I do wish to change is that if in this moment there is something I want to achieve/learn/do then I should go after it by all my means with all my heart and not worry about anything else.

RIP Butch Cassidy

2008-10-09T15:52:00.000-07:00

I was 12 when I fell in love with him. It was Saturday and I was curled up in front of the TV waiting for the weekly Saturday night cinema movie to begin. Every Saturday the PTV showed old Hollywood movies and I wanted to watch every single one of them. It is through this medium that my initial love of movies started and it was here that I first saw acting legends like Spencer Tracy, Humphrey Bogart and my absolute favorite Sydney Poitier. Actors of today great they may be but cannot compare to the likes of Gregory Peck and James Stewart and silicon goddesses of this era hold no light to the beauty and class of Audrey Hepburn, Katherine Hepburn, Grace Kelly and Ingrid Bergman.

I was truly charmed but that night I saw the one I would love the most, forever. The movie that night, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof and the star - Paul Newman. OK to be fair, the movie was heavily edited (all that passion between Liz and Paul) and made the story a little too complex for me to follow. Nonetheless I was hooked. In the years that followed I watched the beautiful blue eyed face in cinematic masterpieces like Somebody up there likes me, The Hustler, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance kid, Color of money and then later on a bottle of a Marinara Sauce. I truly loved and admired him. Everything about him was in contradiction with what Hollywood stands for and that makes him special. He came so close to the beautiful, make believe world of glitz and glamor and didn't get lost in it. He chose to live in a farm house in Connecticut close to his family. His business "Newman's Own" established a policy that all proceeds from the sale of products, after taxes, would be donated to charity. As of early 2006, the franchise has resulted in excess of $200 million in donations (I love their products). And unlike most celebrities, his good work and political activism was not bragged about and publicized. He loved car racing, owned a racing car league or whatever they call it, and raced himself. He was stylish and had great taste but was never excessive. He was married to his true soulmate for 50 years til death parted them last month Sep 26th 2008. A long life, most of which was spent for the good of the less fortunate ended due to a lost battle with cancer. His legacy will live on through Newman's own and his daughters. He is probably the only Hollywood star that I cried for when I heard of his passing. He was a man of great character with the most gorgeous eyes ever. RIP Bucth Cassidy, you will be missed.
Fav quote: When asked about infidelity, he quipped, "Why go out for hamburger when you have steak at home?"
Once speculated his epitaph would read “here lies Paul Newman who died a failure because his eyes turned brown”

With Robert Redford.Butch Cassidy and the Sundance kid

With wife Joanne woodward

Aged to Perfection

no más

2008-10-06T12:13:00.000-07:00

Why is the suspense and uncertainty of life not as thrilling as a Matt Damon flick? Why can't you enjoy the unpredictable and have popcorns while you wait and expect the unexpected? But that's not how it is. Being the unbelievably impatient person that I am, I hate waiting and not knowing what next. I have always needed to know everything and I have needed to know it now (except exam results - I never cared much about them enough and could wait for them til eternity). So I loose the suspense, I am more of a drama person anyway.
Besides, I think the suspense is sooo over rated. Life should have just come with a manual, it surely would have made our parents' job that much easier. Think about it, we would have been like a new Honda accord, well I am more of a Lamborghini, but you get the point.
I am just bored with all the waiting... and I do think God has the best sense of humor of all. How else would you explain life and its thrilling idiocies. Hmm this is worth a post of its own.

The Constant

2008-10-04T20:47:00.000-07:00

There is no constant in life other than change. Every day brings some new color to life and it transitions in some way or the other, ever so slowly. But what if one doesn't know how to cope with these changing seasons. She may welcome the change for its excitement and the freedom it gives her from the mundane motions of life, but once the dust settles, it makes her feel lost and sad as if a part of her is missing. With every new chapter of life she feels further away from her own true self, and while this maybe OK for some it remains a tragedy for her. She longs for things to go back to how they used to be. Perhaps, the past signifies to her as normal and happy and most of all known and predictable. The present may be fine but the past is somehow always better. Is it an illusion, an escape or just wishful thinking? Maybe a little of all.
Life is exciting and fun, full of suspense and totally unpredictable and it makes sense not to commit to any one chapter so completely that the preceding chapters only make you want to turn the pages and re-read it again. Maybe you stop reading and keep going back because you dont want to end the book. Interesting, but when has that ever stopped life from changing.
When I was young I used to read a book about a fairy land where whenever a traveler turned to look back he turned to stone. I could never understand what that meant, but now it is just so clear.
Life has no constants other than change. Makes sense to accept this as a constant and keep traveling

Meetings...blah!!! who needs them

2008-09-26T14:01:00.000-07:00

I hate all kinds of work meetings: status meetings, company meetings, team meetings and last but not the least call-in meetings. Here is why:
Every meeting invites a person who loves to talk. This person loves to state the obvious and explain things that are painfully simple and common sense. In other words he is extremely self important and believes that all other employees are a bunch of idiots. Annoying to say the least.And while this self-adulatory dumb-ass is droning on and on about how we should email the project numbers to only the important managers for the thirteenth time, I am trying so hard to stay awake and not fall off the chair. I am a border-line insomniac and barely have 4 hour sleep each night and unless I am constantly doing something, I get phenomenally drowsy. In meetings, this problem seems to become even more pronounced, no thanks to the dumb-ass.To keep myself from falling of the chair, I habitually doodle, a lot. I have been doing this since 12th grade. Once, my project manager actually caught hold of my notepad and burst out laughing since it had my and my significant other's name scribbled all over the page encircled with daisies and triangles. Trust me I am never that in love, but my mind is empty and it has to doodle. Needless to say this incident was highly embarrassing and now during meetings along with the fight to stay awake I also need to focus on not doodling.I also doodle when deep in thought.Doodling and sleepiness can make people think I am not interested in the meeting. This may be true but they don't have to know this. So now I have to do the occasional nodding and note-taking. This problem leads to two more problems:Since I have been caught nodding at things I should not be nodding at quite a few times, I now have to actually make an effort to listen to the conversation. Ughhh how boring is that.
Note-taking is so over-rated in meetings so much so that managers seem to think that it helps them distinguish between the good and the bad employees. My problem is that although my ear/brain-registering combination is pretty good but add in the third loop of note-taking to the process and I fall apart. I retain so much more when just listening, but force me into taking notes and all meeting-related details get fuzzy. Nothing in brain, nothing on paper (minus doodles).This leads me to look bad as compared to employees who send meeting agendas pre-meeting and MOM 10 mins post-meeting. I hate show-offs.On top of this, during the meeting I constantly feel the pressure to participate and speak up . I know one should only say something which is worth for others to hear, but what if the whole meeting passes by and you have nothing intelligent to say. I don't want people (read my manager) to think I wasn't into the meeting. Should I , at this stage, take after the compulsive-self important-talker and start reiterating everything said in the meeting. Usually I resist the urge to just participate for the heck of, which is a struggle in itself. This urge to speak up triples during call-in meetings for obvious reasons. I don't want people to think that they were on mute while i was busy chatting or surfing the net.So by now, I am trying to stay awake, look interested, not doodle, stay on my chair, listen to the conversation, nod, take coherent notes and try to think of something intelligent to say while struggling to keep my mouth shut until I do. Sounds exhausting doesn't it? Well I am...exhausted that is. And I would not mind it one bit if I was never invited to a meeting again ever ( not at the expense of being jobless/homeless of course).

The End or The End??

2008-09-24T12:58:00.001-07:00

Wowwww what a night. I remember walking in the room and switching on my computer to pay the electricity bill, but nothing after that. True it has been a long day and I couldn't get out of work until 7:00 (I am more of a 9 to 5 person, so this is extreme) but it was not so brutal as to instigate a blackout. That too a 12-hr blackout.
My cell phone rang several times, I got cold and hot intermittently (that's normal but I usually wake up), I passed the 24 hrs mark with no food ( I have been fasting), but I slept through it all. I did gain some semblance of consciousness when I answered a phone call and had a barely coherent conversation with a friend. It was then that I realised I still had my shoes on along with my work clothes and the sharp thing sticking in my side was my company ID card . I sleep-walked through the clothes changing and teeth -brushing and quickly slipped back into my coma-like condition. Hmmmmm.
I know plenty of people who regularly sleep long hours. People who love to sleep and consider it a hobby. My sister for instance would have won the gold in sleep Olympics, if they ever had one. She would spend the first one week post exams in a death-like state, only waking for natural needs. Of course all that has changed post kids, and now she reminisce about her long, peaceful sleep like an old passionate fling, with sighs and all :).
The point is a 12 hours blackout (without alcohol) maybe normal for a lot of people but for a border-line insomniac like me, it is cause for celebration or perhaps concern. Either my days of long wakeful nights are over or I just had a mental breakdown due to sleep-deprivation and exhaustion.
Well I do feel sleepy again so that is a good sign or maybe its a bad sign. Maybe its the end of insomnia or its the end of me. See!!! sleep does not agree with me. A person with 12 hrs of rest under his belt would be so alert and ummm I guess...rested.
I guess this incident was not that blog worthy, but I was just so excited about it what with this being the longest I have slept in months. Man I need a life. The most exciting thing in months...I slept for 12 hrs? Oh man!!! This is the end isn't it?

I wish...

2008-09-22T12:10:00.000-07:00

It has never been about religion...it has always been about politics, wealth and control. Religion has always been used to manipulate the faithful, to control the weak and to gain power. This is why fear is instilled in people and people are brain washed to do heinous acts like this.
Religion is what has brought the most destruction in this world. The greatest of atrocities have been committed in the name of religion. Does that mean the religion itself is bad? Are the people following it, evil? Not at all!! Their only flaw: religion makes them emotional, and their blind faith makes them gullible.
Every religion talks about peace, love, tolerance and balance. All prophets were advanced souls who brought light to the people. The weak and the poor followed them to find peace in their hearts and reason in their suffering. The religion gave them hope, peace and freedom but it also gave the rich an opportunity to control them, in the name of God. This is the history of mankind. Greed has always marred faith.
Today someone is using the Muslims to do their dirty work for them (has been for close to 25 years). Why Muslims? Because they are frustrated, weak, emotional, poor and illiterate and they still believe in God and hence can be brainwashed. But why the brain wash? So they can look like the enemy. But why them? They are not united, their leaders are greedy and don't care about them and their land covers the most oil reserves of the world.
I wish we were an island in the south pacific. No one would care about us enough to bomb us. I wish we did not border Afghanistan, Iran and china. I wish we had no natural resources, I wish the Kings of the world had no vested interest in our land.
I wish God would come down and settle all this once and for all.

Disclaimer: This is exclusively my opinion. I am in no way trying to make a political or religious statement. If anything, it is the most non-political and non-religious I can be. I am sorry if my words attack the reader's religious or political beliefs.

The land of the...not so pure:(

2008-09-18T16:54:00.000-07:00

Have we reached the lowest point in our history. Perhaps, not!! Every time we reach a new low we think that it can not get any worse than this, but soon things sink south some more. I feel violated for the land of the pure. It feels as if a prostitute is being married to a certified rapist. What is left to loot and plunder? I have mentally disassociated myself with the rest of the world, specially home, as if a part of my body was in constant pain and I numbed it with a nerve block. But some things just hurt so much that you have no choice but to take notice.
But who am I to complain. I feel I lost my right to comment on this issue the day I boarded that Cathay Pacific flight not too long ago.

Shhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!

2008-09-15T14:43:00.000-07:00

I can never understand how some people can be so loud... at work!! I mean seriously. Do they think they are the only ones working or do they think that the rest of the employees who are unfortunate enough to be sitting within close vicinity of their cubicles, have nothing better to do than to listen to what kind of new words baby Candice has learnt, or what time the maid is supposed to come and clean the house or where hubby Tony is taking them for their anniversary. Ughhh!!! Are you kidding me??

Of course there is a cause for this latest tirade: a miniature sized Blondie (she still shops for shoes in the Juniors department, I discovered one loud phone call later) with a voice that can bore holes in a wall, no exaggeration. I wonder each day, as she is yapping away into the phone, how can such a big voice come out of such a tiny person? To make matters worse, she works for Help Desk so she is on the phone a lot. But it is not her work related calls that bother me so much. It is when cousin Belinda, girl friend Linda or mother in law Iris call and she goes on and on about hubby and daughter and house remodeling and daughter and vacations and doctor's appointments and daughter and so on. It is all I can do to stop myself from crossing five cubicles, yanking the telephone and wrapping the wire around the tiny, destructive vocal chords.

And its not just the phone calls, she loves to talk to anyone who will listen or even those who momentarily pause at her desk. She takes this as her cue and pitches herself into the latest on darling Candice ( the prodigal daughter). Most of the time I am able to block it out with some form of music or the other, but if somehow I have left my headphones at home (yes my office has no headphones) I get back to back episodes of "all her children". In the past five months I have come to hear more about her and her darling daughter than my own thoughts. It seems like she is the only worker here and Candice is the only 18 months old girl in the world.

OK I may sound tad too bitchy, but come on people, do we really need to know about her citizenship proceedings (originally canadian), OBGYN appointments, anniversary trip to Vegas, her perfect hubby/daughter/car/life ( once she went on and on about this with her girlfriend on the phone). The fact that she is mostly surrounded by 20 something young male interns who do not seem interested in her ramblings, does not seem to faze her at all. Wow!!!

And now guess what?? She is expecting perfect baby number two. Help me dear God!! Last whole week was all about her morning sickness (or lack thereof, come one she is diminutive) her trimesters, her showiness (or lack thereof), how big she got her first time ( can't be that much, I can bet on it) her food habits, her sleeping habits blah blah blah.

We don't talk, we are not acquainted( I like it that way, indirect conversations are more than enough thank you very much) and I can never bring myself to tell anyone when he/she is disturbing the office peace and quiet (oh I am such a drama queen) and that is why I am venting here. And I am not the only one complaining, other employees are upset as well (they may not have blogged about it but what can I say, I am just more creative that way hehehe).

And BTW, whatever happened to privacy and space? Don't people care about keeping their personal phone calls private anymore. Or is it that sub-consciously people want to flaunt their happiness in front of others. Maybe!

I have nothing personal against the tiny thunderstorm (other than her annoying loud voice) but I do hope she goes on maternity leave soon, or when we move to the new building (coming up soon yayyy), I'm among the lucky few who are sitting far away from her (and others like her).

The Fall Premiere

2008-09-12T13:55:00.000-07:00

Fall is coming...and I couldn't be more excited. It is not that fall is my favorite season or I love the Halloween or pumpkins or anything of the sort ( I don't have my TV so the new fall season has nothing to do with it either). It is just the idea of finally seeing some variety of seasons other than summer and winter that has me going around inspecting all non-evergreen trees closely. Having spent most of my life in a coastal town, I hardly ever saw any real change in season and usually just felt it based on the level of humidity. Summer was extremely humid, monsoon: humid and winter: less humid. After switching continents several years ago, I have yet to experience a real fall. Actually until a couple of years ago, I still had not seen snow, but a week in Boston took care of that.

Few days back as I walked out of work, I looked up at the mountains to soak up the sun ( yes in the NW we try to take in as much Vitamin D as we can, when we can) and saw hues of bright orange, yellow and red peeking through the bright evergreens. The air was crisp, fresh and a little cool. I couldn't help but smile. My very first fall!!!

Thanks to my nomadic life and my latest trek to the pacific NW, I will finally experience my first real autumn. People at work think I am crazy because I keep bugging them about foliage. How orange will it get, does it rain here in fall ( they say no, but they also said that rain will end in may and it continued well into late June so I don't know) where can I go to see the real colors, will the weather remain this crisp and fresh (its been amazing here but I don't think they feel it huh!!)

Anyway, I got excited enough to write about it. I have made plans to visit the places with maximum foliage and even try some pumpkin pie. Happy fall to those who read this :)

Breakup story - The Perpetrator

2008-09-10T13:26:00.000-07:00

Oh yes...the much awaited (ya rite) part two of the Breakup Story - The Ditched.

Note: For sake of simplicity, I will refer to the perpetrator (perp - for short) as a he. This in no way implies that the perpetrator cannot be a female and I am some women rights activist who deems all women as victims in a man's world. Hmm actually in some instances that may be true but...hey wait a minute this is turning from a note into a post. You get the point. Lets continue with the breakup story Part II.

People who have received the bad news may not realise it but the person who breaks up does not have it easy either. He has to deal with a lot of drama at his end as well, not to mention the strategizing and planning it takes to go through with the actual breakup.

The feelings of discontentment take root within the perp long before the actual breakup. He knows he is unhappy, he knows this isn't what he wants or he realises this is not working for him, but he denies it. Of course this only happens to the perps who were actually involved in the relationship and had once been in love, as opposed to the ones who are just out to have a good time - our modern day Casanovas and Jezebels. (I have no experience of being either so lets not focus on them)

The state of denial lasts for sometime as he tries to work things out, but either of these two things happen to end this self-destructive behavior. The perp falls for someone else or the perp's partner confronts him with a "talk". The "talk" almost always involves references to future plans, wedding or just simply taking the next step, whatever that may be. The perp suddenly panics and tries to stall sometimes successfully while at others not so much. Unsuccessful stalling usually results in him accepting whatever is being proposed.

Either event forces the perp to think and reevaluate his feelings, thoughts and ultimately his priorities. In other words, he freaks out and tries to reason with himself as best as he can. This is where generalizing perpetrators gets the hardest. While some perps can reason and logicalize the situation and are able to see and do the right thing, others can reason, logicalize and realise but are too scared to do anything about it. In other words we can distinguish between them as chickens and non-chickens. Both the perps do break up but the circumstances are quite different.

A non-chicken perp will go and fess up like a man (or a woman) hoping he will be able to handle whatever ensues post breakup. A chicken perp on the other hand, not the one for directness, sends out signals and indirect messages to get his feelings across. He avoids phone calls, emails and meetings and becomes unreasonable, moody and very hard to be around. In other words he does a good job of humiliating his partner. Eventually the partner picks it up and confronts him. And that's when hesitatingly he fesses up. Some really big chickens actually survive several confrontations before admitting to anything.

Soon after the breakup the perp feels this sense of achievement and goodness ( read Godliness) within him. He believes he has done something good and noble by saving somebody from a life of misery and deceit. He tells anyone who will listen, how he did what he did for the other person and how the person deserved much better than him. He may have some lingering feelings of guilt here and there, but the greater sense of good puts those to rest.

Despite his best intentions the poor perp cannot spare himself from his ex's drama - the anger, the guilt trips, the threats, the questions. He tries his best to be kind and supportive but cannot help get a bit annoyed. At the same time he feels liberated and wants to enjoy his new found freedom. So he starts his own share of partying and having fun, all the while ensuring that his ex gets the message that he is happy and moving on.

Time passes and both parties get on with their lives. But every now and then they think about each other. The ditched with distaste and the perp with wonder. The perp no matter how satisfied he is with his current life will always wonder whether he did the right thing. And while he may still believe that he did, he seeks some consolation, some acknowledgment of the good. Little does he know that it is his deep-buried feelings of guilt that are causing the restlessness and that this restlessness will only be satisfied if he can get the acknowledgement and forgiveness from the ditched. These feelings sneak up on him ever so quietly catching him completely off-guard. He knows the ditched has been through hell and back, he gets the news from mutual friends and acquaintances and eventually he doesn't feel as noble as he did earlier . It may take years or months, but the guilt does hit the perp and it hits when least expected.

Overcome and consumed with guilt, the perp may reach out to the ditched. What happens after that depends on a number of factors. What kind of person is the ditched? How far along she(or he) is in her quest to get over the broken relationship? Has she moved on? What kind of lives both parties are leading? etc. etc. Some perps get forgiveness, some banishment and some get neither.

Its a tough job being the perpetrator, but is it always the evil one? Is the ditched always the victim? Is breakup ever the right thing to do? Is it all even worth it? All these questions have many contrary answers and they may vary based on perspectives and experiences. Perhaps, the questions are even worthy of a separate blog. Maybe, lets see.

The angel

2008-09-05T11:48:00.000-07:00

klutz? You talking to me???

2008-09-04T11:01:00.000-07:00

We all have problems with our own selves. Over the years I too have had many issues with myself, some big some small. Some of these issues have been resolved while others are still being dealt with. And then there is this one problem that has not only outlived all others but it has also been growing with the passage of time, sort of becoming an epidemic. It is annoying and its effects numerous and damaging.

Those who know me, (yes that's all of my three readers) may have very well seen what repercussions this issue has had on me and my life, sometimes even their lives. I am so tired of it and am yet to discover the root cause of the problem. Perhaps genes...hmmm...I don't know. It is hard for me to think about it, but even harder to ignore it. Specially when in middle of the store this "problem" makes me unconsciously swat at a sky high pile of paper towels. Before I know it, some twenty cylinders of white paper are rolling away in all different directions leaving me paralyzed with horror and mortification. People stare, kids snicker, store employees curse and I just apologize, profusely.

Yes, my biggest issue with myself...why the hell am I so God damn clumsy and accident-prone??

I have no idea how things automatically get in my way, how toes find their way under my feet, how my arms get tangled up with objects (or people) that are seemingly far away. How come other people don't zip their hair between the zipper of the jacket every single time or trip over their own toes or burn themselves almost every time they come in contact with an iron or a hot pan. Life falls apart for me ever so often as containers of food fall out of my hand leaving a huge mess or my fingers poke myself in the eye trying to tie my hair in a pony tail. The klutz syndrome gets worse as soon as I enter the kitchen or handle any food related item. I have lost count of the carpets and sofas I have spilled coffee and tea on, while gesturing with my hands (of course at the time I was still holding the cup).

I have so many stories, so many embarrassing moments; they can actually make a slapstick sitcom based on them. It will actually be at par with "Some Mothers Do Have Em"(ironically, Papa has always paralleled me to this guy all my life). After all how many people have tried to make a smoothie without covering the blender or placed a hand on the iron directly to see if it is hot enough or poured steaming hot oil from a pan into a cup, while holding the cup ( yes I had blisters for days). Its like every now and then a part of my brain goes off in sleep mode for no rhyme or reason. I'm otherwise seemingly coordinated and smart. I can drive well, talk well, write well even dance well. But put me in a kitchen or a grocery store...hello total retard!!!

I guess it was cute, funny and adorable when I was 20 and weighed 30 lbs less. At 32 its plain embarrassing! I am a walking time bomb that can blow any minute and I have no clue when or how. And of course the disease is progressing with age - Red Alert!!

Hell I want to be a part time carpenter one day since I love to fix and build things but my friends had a field day with this notion - images of houses falling down while I am glued to a dry wall were described in great details. Sighhh!!! I have become the butt of jokes and entertainment for those around me. I at times take offense and try to deny it but what can I do when my actions speak so much more louder than my words.

Cursed for Life

2008-09-03T16:01:00.000-07:00

Life never changed for me did it? I am still being pushed and pulled from all different directions and in all different directions. But in the midst of it all, cant help but think how much of being in this situation is my own fault? Once I start mulling over this and in turn sharing it with my all-perfect, all-knowing Guru Ji - LG, it did not take long for me to come face to face with the truth. It is entirely my fault. ughhhh!!!!!Sighhhh...I hate being wrong and even more than that, I hate when he is right (which is quite often hummmph).

I have known for quite sometime that I am a really nice person. Generally, people have confidence about their skills and talents or their intelligence. I on the other hand am self-assured about being a very nice, good-hearted human being. In fact, I am probably one of the nicest human beings I have ever met in my life. I know to some I may sound conceited, narcissistic and as lacking humility, but I know this for a fact that I am oh soooo nice. You may ask, what makes me so sure about it? Well the answer is quite simple. I was born to amazingly nice people who are world-renowned for being the nicest people ever (almost - yes i exaggerate a bit, but just a bit), and all my life I was taught to be nice to people and all my life I worked towards becoming the nicest person ever. Of course, doing that I never realised I am screwing myself for life.

Now when I say I am nice I mean I am nice all the time inspite of myself, even when I am trying so hard to be otherwise. Please be clear that I am not putting up an act to be liked or I wanna be known as a Miss goody two shoes and praised all over for being a model human being. Anything but that. Perhaps I started of as that but the first time I got screwed over by a fellow human being after being nice to him/her, I knew this behavior is highly dangerous. I need to watch out for it. And boy was I right!! I have been screwed over so many times since then, because I can never say no, because I cannot be instinctively mean, because I still deep down believe in the goodness of people and last but not the least because I expect people to be caring and understanding towards those around them.

I keep running into people who are unknowingly selfish and self-involved yet every time I am surprised. People have repeatedly taken advantage of me (knowingly or unknowingly I have yet to decide) and I am almost always taken aback. People say mean things (in anger or in jest) and I am so shocked I become speechless and only think of the right thing to say after 20 mins of utter disbelief.

Over the years I have programmed myself to come across as an unfriendly, rude and highly aggressive person ( i crack the meanest jokes everybody). Of course being 5ft 7 and slightly ( ahem ahem) over weight helps matters tremendously ( I can seem scary :)). This helps me keep people at arms length so that I can observe them cautiously before letting them into my life. Of course it does not help my cause at all if the person in question is desolate, in need, alone, broken hearted or just lost. For some reason people with any of these problems become a personal responsibility of mine. I cannot leave them on their own, and i feel the need to fix them up. No, not fix them up with someone, just fix them up, renovate them.

The protection mechanism devised solely by some demented part of my sub-conscious has perhaps spared me from more situations of screwdom, but I still don't know how to retort back to rude behavior on cue, still cannot resist helping out whoever I can and of course I still haven't the slightest clue how to say no and If i manage to say no then how not to feel guilty about it. Oh guilt!!! Oh yes along with the nice nature I am blessed with a hyper-active conscience that feels it needs to keep prodding me to do the right thing - ALL THE TIME!!!!! (Do you know how tiring that is). Also I need to live up to everyone's needs and expectations. Otherwise I can get no sleep and have to eat bucketful of ice cream just to avoid the guilt.

I'm sure if you have read thus far, you probably hate me for either being a bitch or for portraying myself to be a saint. To all of you it surely seems that I am just tooting my own horn so I come across as a reincarnation of Mother Teresa. Oh how I wish all this was true and I was some egotistical, self-adulatory, wannabe saint of a human. I wish this because that would free me to be happy because then I will not be aware of others' unhappiness. It would free me from all the guilty feelings stirred by others who feel I am letting them down, even though I go to all lengths to be there for them. Free to say no so that I wont have to bend over backwards to fulfill a commitment while neglecting things that really matter.

But noooooooo....I am none of these things coz I am just plain old nice. Yes I am cursed for life.

Touched By An Angel

2008-09-02T10:49:00.000-07:00

We, unaccustomed to courage
exiles from delight
live coiled in shells of loneliness
until love leaves its high holy temple
and comes into our sight
to liberate us into life.

Love arrives
and in its train come ecstasies
old memories of pleasure
ancient histories of pain.Yet if we are bold,
love strikes away the chains of fearfrom our souls.

We are weaned from our timidity
In the flush of love's lightwe dare be brave
And suddenly we see
that love costs all we are
and will ever be.
Yet it is only love
which sets us free.

Breakup story - The Ditched

2008-08-29T12:40:00.001-07:00

People do weird things after a breakup. Some may think that the enormity of the post breakup reaction is directly proportional to the duration of the relationship. Perhaps, but some behaviors are common to all break ups. I may be wrong since I am no shrink but this is strictly based on my observation and experience ( yes I have had my own heart broken few times due to various kinds of love ranging from one sided crush to puppy love, forbidden love, love lasting 5 yrs and last but not the least love which i had no idea existed). Since I am currently in love (not mentioned above) and have completely recovered from my personal episodes of breakup drama ( or so it seems until I come face to face with some more emotional baggage that I have yet to discover), I deem myself qualified to throw some light on the sequence of events that usually follow a breakup. I hope that people currently going through breakups(so that they feel normal) or about to undergo one ( set your expectations rights and also expect the unexpected) can benefit from this post. The first few hours of the breakup are highly liberating and make you feel free and enlightened. This feeling gives u a false sense of security that you will be alright. This feeling is probably similar to the quiet relief you feel after a hurricane has passed and you think it is over, right before you step out of the house and realise what has really happened and witness the real damage. Usually the breakup follows a period of immense drama and sadness filled with arguments, accusations or total withdrawal from one or both parties. Hence, the relief at the end of it. But like most highs, this one is followed by an ultimate low and one gets engulfed by feelings of desolation, despair and immense sadness. This is when one would reach out for ice cream, songs of heartbreak and misfortune and of course the box that contains all the tokens of love that once was. You re-read all the cards and emails, go over the pictures, watch videos, all the while crying and making yourself believe you will never be as happy as you once were with this one person. Everything seems meaningless and hopeless as you travel to new depths of self-pity and misery. This continues for sometime (lasting anywhere between a day or a month) until one day the feelings of desolation are replaced by immense anger rooted in the sense of rejection or humiliation or both. This transition and self-awareness is usually incited by some news or communication with the heart breaker's world. The form and type of communication and news can be different but the underlying message is almost always the same. The heart breaker has already moved on, feels no remorse over what he/she did, wishes you would heal (this really happened) has someone new (this after swearing the reason for the breakup is not another person). In other words the message is the real stimulus for you to transition from a blithering fool to a wannabe assassin. Armed with the new found fury and sense of vengeance, you go about destroying, hiding, removing every last item that even remotely reminds you of the person. You curse the person's very existence and make secret plans( or with friends...oh ya right about now your friends come back into the pic - PS if you have no friends...God bless your soul!!!) to destroy your ex. Of course, some people actually go through with them but this is not entirely advisable. Not long after, you start displaying few or several out of character tendencies. These can range from attending/throwing parties, to speeding, obnoxious laughing and joking, un-drunken brawls(its true you will feel so angry all the time and will get ticked off at the slightest of things and I can personally vouch it applies to females as well - sigh i will leave this out for a later post), unlady-like behaviour ( for girls/gays) too much manliness (only for guys/some girls straight or otherwise), sudden display of anger or sadness. Loved ones (of course I mean parents) cringe, moan and lament the gradual regress of your soul as you loose {or gain :( } weight, sacrifice work and other duties while neglecting health and in some cases hygiene(not autobiographical i swear). This stage lasts much longer (much to my parents despair), than the first one but not as long as stage number three. I have yet to understand what transpires the onset of stage three but one day you wake up and just don't feel like leaving the bed and face the world. To be precise Stage three is a combination of stage 1 and 2. But along with despair and anger you also have to deal with feelings of self-doubt, some degree of self loathe while trying to keep your self-esteem up. During this time the breakup suddenly becomes very serious and you start wondering if you will ever be normal again. The sinking feeling in your stomach, the heavy heart, the lack of hope, energy or desire to do anything, will these feelings ever go away? You start going through the motions of normal life in hopes of becoming just that - normal. You laugh, cry, work, eat all the while feeling sad, lonely and entirely hopeless. It seems never-ending as you bounce between self-doubt, anger, sadness and light headiness for a very long time - or so it seems. Eventually given the time, you do come out of this, hopefully stronger, better and wiser. But life as you knew it will never be the same because you change so much during this drama. The pain has given birth to virulent cynicism that may become your lifelong friend(now this is definitely directly proportional to the duration and quality of the relationship and nature of its ultimate demise, definitely autobiographical). You are skeptical and slightly disillusioned. Normal is no longer normal. It is just as distorted as you are. But the good news - you live. And you survive in the best possible way, by rediscovering yourself and by fortifying your strengths, your beliefs and your faith. Its a struggle and ultimately you prevail. Oh and the upside the cynicism makes you very funny and you learn to laugh at yourself...Makes you a bigger person I think... Coming up Breakup story - The Perpetrator

The emerald city

2008-08-12T15:10:00.000-07:00

Day one - Seattle makes you want to cuddle in front of the fireplace with a loved one, coffee mug in hand.
Day 2 - Seattle makes you want to put on your hiking boots and explore the magnificent mountains surrounding the pretty little fairyland.
Day 3 - Seattle will make you want to put on your swim suit and head to the nearest lake and swim or go for a ferry ride.
Beautiful, Mystical and completely unpredictable. I like it here!!!!!
P.S. It is wet most of the year

Say what??

2008-08-08T15:44:00.000-07:00

I am in a rush. I need to finish my chores for the day so I can take off at noon. I get paid by the hour which means the more i work the more i get paid. So yes I try to work as much as I can. But once in a while and I mean only once in a while do I get the opportunity to have the apartment all to myself and catch up on lost sleep, which of course is a lot considering I'm border insomniac. It also means I can watch TLC to my heart's content and maybe also work on the marketing paper due this week. So I am in a rush to get things done The door opens and I look up at the intruder. He is an unkempt teenager with a glassy look in his eyes. He seems disoriented and soon he starts this very interesting conversation:

Glassy-eyed teenage intruder (GETI): Is this the economics Department

Me: Yes GETI: Umm and where is the macro economics department

Me: aaa...here

GETI: oh OK...

Me: As well as the micro economics department

GETI: that's kool He shuffles his feet scanning his class schedule. I look at him closely and become aware that my GETI may not be all there. Perhaps he is best friends with Mary Jane just like 90% of the student body.

GETI: i was like thinking maybe you know i can like change my minor or maybe like my major

Me: which is it major or minor?

GETI: I don't know ( at this point he is looking at me but it seems he is looking through me not really focusing)

Me: Hmmm

GETI: Is this where you change it?

Me: Yes it is since it is the department office

Suddenly I see his glassy eyes become even more dreamy and he slowly turns around and exits the office. For a second I just stand there looking after him. what the hell??? After a few minutes the door reopens and the GETI returns

GETI: I cant like find this room 375. Is it around here?

Me: Well it is 375 so it must be on the third floor (common knowledge I think)

GETI: Oh OK, is this Gibbons Hall?

Me ( by now completely frustrated): Yes sweetheart it is

I consider shaking him or at least swatting his head, hoping it will wake him up, but resist the temptation.

GETI: aaa OK...umm thank you

And he is gone. I wonder if the Mary Jane is accompanying him rite this minute or he just had breakfast with her. I decide to ask him if comes back. Ten minutes later he re-enters the room. Me: Seriously?

GETI: I cant figure it out

Me: What?

GETI: So like how do you go up to the third floor? Do you have stairs or something?

Saira

2008-08-01T17:16:00.000-07:00

When I was young i dreamed of being a writer. A widely published, world-renowned, best-selling writer. It was a dream i secretly harbored for years as I spend endless nights blackening piles and piles of papers of what I hoped one day would be a masterpiece of my generation. But until I was ready I did not want to share any of it. Naturally shy I could not bear to be humiliated by my evil siblings (They eventually grew up) or ridiculed by my parents with some below-par story telling so I practiced day and night, getting little sleep or rest. To avoid being caught breaking the 8 o' clock lights out curfew I would hide in my bath tub reading and writing, away from the scrutiny of the world. It was my special time. I would slip away into my special world of imagination and fantasy and create characters, baptizing them, living their lives, feeling their love and pain and giving them a lifetime of happiness. I was the happiest during those nights cocooned in the cold hard ceramic confines of that bath tub. I was just a lonely kid and the pen was my best friend i.e. until saira came in my life. I was twelve and at the peak of my literary glory when we moved to Quetta, a small city near the western border of Pakistan. In the house next door lived a Persian speaking hazara family with a daughter perhaps a year younger than me. She was everything I was not. Confident, friendly and extremely direct. One evening she came over and declared herself to be my best-friend. Irritated though I was, but I couldn't bear to break her heart and tell her otherwise. That would have been extremely rude, right? what I didn't know at the time was that my good manners will reward me with a lifelong relentless, unwavering and extraordinary friendship. To cut a long story short, she and I were inseparable soon thereafter. She would come over every afternoon and leave only when her parents send their servant for her. We would spend hours talking, playing and dreaming. One such afternoon she discovered my valuable box of manuscripts. How? well that is material for another post, a rather funny story. Anyway, she looked at the box and then at a rather stunned me. without saying a word she picked up the papers and started reading. I sat down quietly watching her skim through page after page. Suddenly, my heart sank as she started to shake her head. I was too afraid to move or talk or ask her anything. She looked up from the paper she was holding and said, " You should buy a typewriter, your handwriting sucks". With that she handed me the box and demanded I read to her. That day onwards I had a reader, well a listener anyway, and a fan. She would actually come over just to see if I had written the next chapter and wanted to know what happened. Soon, I would write and she would read at parallel. To say the least, I was ecstatic to finally have someone appreciate my work. But, like all great things, this arrangement came to an abrupt halt when one day ami(my mother) raided my room!!!!!!!! Well technically it was my fault since the room was a mess and my mom came to clean while I was at school. That afternoon, I came home to find my room spotlessly clean except three garbage cans filled with what once had been my master piece, but now was mere confetti. My heart dropped at my feet. I felt somebody had snatched my dream and crushed it under her feet. I was pretty sure these feet belonged to a woman, knowing my father hardly ever entered my room. Never the challenging kind i just sat down on my bed staring at the pieces of paper wondering if I could ever salvage any of it. Suddenly the door opened and my mom came in. I looked up at her with eyes filled with tears. She was not impressed. She demanded to know who had written this filth. OK in my defence my stories were strictly PG 13 and can in no way be classified as filth. At the same time the material was definitely more advanced than what an average 12 yr old brain would usually produce. What can I say I had been exposed to literature at a young age and I also had a very active imagination. I was smart. She should have been happy. But happy she was not. She blamed the writing to be the cause of everything wrong on the face of the earth, my average grades, my moodiness, my dark circles ( actually all these were true), my lack of social skills, my perverted mind (i resented that), my lack of need to be friends with my siblings ( excuse me?? my sister was a nerd and my brother was a teenager, THEY hated ME) and last but not the least, the cause of me ultimately ending up in HELL ( I didn't buy that for a minute - after all I was such a sweet kid and oh soooo smart). Anyway, after this ugly incident i was under constant supervision and could no longer write at my discretion. They even monitored my secret writing place, the bath tub. I guess it wasn't such a secret after all. I was broken hearted and felt so sad and lost. I was such an inhibited soul those days that I could not even muster up the courage to challenge them or tell them about my secret dream. I forgot to mention during this time of crisis, Saira was visiting her relatives. I cant remember where but she was gone for a few days. upon her return she demanded to read(listen) the next chapter of the book and so I told her what had happened. I showed her the pieces of paper with tear-filled eyes. As always she said nothing. But we did spend the next 5 hours trying to match all the pieces of paper and sticking together some three hundred pages ( God awful huge handwriting) of my valuable story book. Afterwards she took my manuscripts and hid them at her house. Few nights later while we were playing meaningless game of rummy she looked at me and said, "you are really good, you should not stop. Auntie will eventually realise she is wrong". For a second i thought she was referring to the game. But since I had lost every single game of rummy i had ever played, I realised she was referring to my writing. I just nodded at her and we continued to play. I don't remember if I was any good since I mostly wrote to escape and mostly cause it came so naturally and of course it is hard to take the word of a 10 yr old kid whose reference point was Enid Blyton's "Mr. Twiddle goes to the park". It was not these words or any other she ever spoke to me over the years. It was her confidence in me, her never-ending faith that slowly pushed me on the path to becoming who I am today. Over the years we helped each other out so many times always unknowingly it seems. We saw our lives and worlds change so many times and always found each other when the times were the hardest without ever calling out for the other. Today, our friendship turned 20. We haven't seen each other in 5 yrs and haven't talked in 2. Our lives are poles apart, our world separated by seas and continents. But I know that the next time my world is hit by a meteoroid, I will find her standing right behind me, not saying anything but slowly taking the pain away. I miss you Saira, you were my sister when i had not found mine. I never said this to you ever but thank you for always knowing my pain.