Thursday, June 27, 2013


Small fish, big waves. Your poyles will always fascinate me.

Tuesday, June 25, 2013

Sleeping with an empty heart doesn't inspire fanciful dreams. The details of the wallpaper, the foreign languages, the moving staircases. What does one have to become to fill the crevices and cracks of life, without turning into a spindly line.

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Do you get mugged by a mugger? or a thug? Anyway. I did.

Wednesday, August 01, 2012

One of those weeks…

Everybody’s minding their own business a bit too much. My best friend at work has been asked to resign. My other friends are late. Some are stuck in a traffic jam. My driver is exceeding his limits. The construction workers are hammering on our heads. There is no water. Rain is this place’s only chance of redemption.

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

I used to know what Jeff who lives at home felt like. But not anymore. When time felt, languid, slow and thick, like molasses. When simple objects became meaningful, regular utterances had undertones and the imagination played incessant tricks. The imagination is still an artful dodger, but this time it is in control, aware.

It meanders just the right amount to cause amusement, a flight of fancy, the glimmer of an idea, yet to return home, and park safely in the cul de sac of the mind and heart. It is quite empowering to know how to control the mind; to feel just the right amount of pleasure or pain. We endure pain, only with the hope of eventual pleasure. And what’s the fun in pleasure without pain?

We both agreed that happy people don’t change the world. But unhappy people may resort to darker means to achieve their goals. Hence, the delicious balance between pleasure and pain, dark and light – enough to empower, yet enough to defeat.

Knowledge is definitely power, but I recently heard a loathsome female on television refute Foucalt’s claim rather simply: Power is Power.

And I got the powaaah!

p.s I have conquered the new blog template.

B-bird is the word

Scuttle, Dodo and me.

Thursday, June 14, 2012


I am so sleepy at work today; I can barely bother to put up a fake front of being productive. I miss being a student sometimes, apart from the ‘being broke’ aspect of it. But anyway, I was recalling the evil S story (my first colleague at my first job) who had the worst nakhras I had EVER heard in my life (for reference look up posts circa Nov-Dec 2008). The admin coordinator is using my extension right now and I’ve had a newfound urge to write.

Wow I’m really sleepy. Moving on, the first and most anal thing about this place is that you have to beep and punch (both) in and out when coming and going. School gets over at 2pm. Since I am driving nowadays and there is always a few minutes discrepancy in all the clocks at work, I left at 1:58 and 1:59pm respectively the last two days. When I came in today, there were 2 red circles around my sign out timings (which is a mark of being late – which the ‘auditors’ check and then cut your salary). Oh, another new policy – if you leave early for an emergency/appointment etc you’re marked absent and they cut 4 grand per day.

I got my hair relaxed to beat the humidity in Karachi; after an over enthusiastic chopped off long bob in Lahore - one day before heading back to Karachi in January - went Krusty the Clown on me. I went to work with my amazingly blow dried hair for the next few weeks. When I came back a few weeks ago, the school principal had had the exact same thing done!

I can’t believe they’re making me open a third bank account! WTF. An accounts guy just walked up to me with a poster (I kid you not) of a sample form for Habib Bank. Before I transferred to this branch I applied for an SCB account twice (they lost my form, and then spotted a mistake 2 months later and made me re-apply), when I finally got my account made, I got transferred. Here they said they shifted to another bank so I had to go all the way to Sharah-e-Faisal (which is literally down the road from here, but still) twice and apply. So now, I have 3 bank accounts. Oh, sorry the fourth is on its way, apparently.

Mrs. T is my best friend on campus, even though she’s 35 years older than me! We trade movies and have patties and chai in her AC wala office. Until the canteen shut for summer break, so now we starve with chai. It’s funny that I call her Mrs. T (her last name is the same as a famous tea brand) and funnier when her husband got sick and she left early so I messaged her: “I hope Mr. T is feeling better”. Haha

Oh and the admin coord with whom it all started. She is so annoying sometimes; the executive secretary (who leaves a lot to be desired himself, refer to the following paragraph) can’t help roll his eyes every time she gives him work - with a million instructions – mostly unnecessary. Once e I had to ask her what the environmental squad was called: The Environmental Squad OR the PAF Environmental Squad - A one line answer. What I got instead, “You see, this was my initiative. It started in 2009 when we set up this squad. They were green robes and organize charity events. I got their approval from XYZ and so forth.” 20 minutes later, I asked, so is there a PAF in front of it or not? There is.

And what to talk to Joaquim! I can’t write the entire name here for the sake of anonymity, but what a name! He never speaks Urdu, always replies to Urdu in English, plays Angry Birds all day and doesn’t even hide it! Once I had to use his PC to copy a DVD and a message popped up on his signed in Yahoo Messenger “hey sexy ;) “. Clearly, he does a lot more than just play angry birds (or so I’m told).Now I’m going to go fill out the poster sized form staring at me.

p.s. I was thinking how funny it is that I have alternative Z’s n Karachi to make up for the lack of their active presence in my life nowadays. But most interestingly, I can’t believe I have met a new khan in the big city. Not the bus, and not the real khan, but the resemblance is uncanny. This is probably another post in itself.

p.p.s Blogger has a new look, and I am not liking it.

Saturday, February 11, 2012



1) I am the biggest klutz on the planet: I recently started my new job at a school with a population of over 2000 students. While doing my rounds, I pass through the main ground in the school, which connects all four sections together and there are at least 50-100 students in the ground at all times. Since I'm new and look young (story of my life, sigh)I get all types of curious stares and glances often. So on my third day at work I was walking purposefully down the pavement to step up onto the veranda of the senior section (AND it was breaktime, so at least 500 students were in the ground). In my head I thought, how embarassing would it be if I fell? (the same feeling I got in 2009 when I was reading the push/pull signs in T-block and ended up tripping in front of 10 drivers in the parking lot - and rupturing my wrist tendon)and lo and behold, I tripped on the stairs in front of a thousand kids. And to top it off, nobody helped me up, so I had to stay composed, gather my stuff, do an inaudible girly 'ouch' and rub my elbow to gain sympathy and not laughs, and kept walking ahead.

2)I can be pretty bitchy if I wanna: So last week I was walking down another ominous corridor and saw a group of teenages students, 8 girls and 1 boy sitting in the distance to where I was walking, and they were all STARING at me with craned necks. Not only was it really OBVIOUSLY rude, it was really absurd for them to all just be staring in my direction (or so I thought at the time) for more than 20 seconds. So, I went to them, stopped and said "excuse me?" to the group and they looked up at me bewildered and dumb. I looked at the boy and said "Is there a problem?" (for lack of better vocabulary at that point in time). He replied "No" (in a paindoo accent). "Then what are you staring at?". "Oh. I wasn't staring at you maam" he responded retardedly. To which I gave him an icy stare and then sauntered off, hoping I wouldnt trip again and ruin my exit into-a-cloud-of-dust moment.

I think I have created enemies in my workplace for the second time. (The first time obviously was the WWF retard who alleged I was using the landline for "three hours everyday" for personal calls - sucker ended up apologizing to me, and I had the last laugh)

3) I'm going to make pancakes now!

Friday, January 27, 2012

For those who need it the most.

Regrets collect like old friends

Here to relive your darkest moments

I can see no way, I can see no way

And all of the ghouls come out to play

And every demon wants his pound of flesh

But I like to keep some things to myself

I like to keep my issues drawn

It's always darkest before the dawn

And I've been fool and I've been blind

I can never leave the past behind

I can see no way, I can see no way

I'm always dragging that horse around

All of his questions, such a mournful sound

Tonight I'm gonna bury that horse in the ground

'Cause I like to keep my issues drawn

It's always darkest before the dawn

Shake it out, shake it out

And it's hard to dance with a devil on your back

So shake him off

And I am done with my graceless heart

So tonight I'm gonna cut it out and then restart

'Cause I like to keep my issues drawn

It's always darkest before the dawn

Shake it out, shake it out

And it's hard to dance with the devil on your back

And given half the chance, would I take any of it back

It's a fine romance but it's left me so undone

It's always darkest before the dawn

And I'm damned if I do and I'm damned if I don't

So here's to drinks in the dark, at the end of my rope

And I'm ready to suffer and I'm ready to hope

It's a shot in the dark aimed right at my throat

'Cause looking for heaven, for the devil in me

Looking for heaven, for the devil in me

But what the hell, I'm gonna let it happen to me, yeah

Shake it out, shake it out

And it's hard to dance with a devil on your back

So shake him off.

Monday, January 23, 2012

TT Funtoosh

You were always an iconic figure in our family. There were jokes and stories of plots and investments, of your friends in Finland, and the nightclubs and bicycle rides in the cold. There were women who wanted to marry you, but you never settled for any of them. I saw you on a cooking show on TV once, and I believe you won a microwave on it!
I remember once we came home after school to bari ammi’s, starving, and you treated us to Pizza Hut – a big treat back in the late 1990s. Once we hid your cigarettes in the drawing room porcelain box and then bribed them back in exchange for Walls ice cream. You were so generous with us; we wondered why everyone in the family claimed you were stingy. Is it because you ironed your own clothes or cooked from time to time?

I was one of the last people to meet you. You had tea and kababs in my lounge a few weeks ago, wearing your plum blazer. Your booming voice, fanciful stories and unconvincing vows to finally settle down will always remain with us. We will remember you with fond memories, and apologize that our matchmaking skills failed miserably for the past two decades. I hope you meet your perfect match in heaven. Untimely and difficult to digest, the fateful morning phone call was yours this time. I can’t believe I’m writing about you in the past tense already. But I hope you rest in Peace.

Monday, December 19, 2011


Dont you just hate:

Taking a shower in a wet bathroom.

Peeing in an already peed pot.

Frying kababs in used oil.

Driving a car which the driver used to before.

Eating in a wet plate.

Wearing rented bowling shoes/ice skates.

Sleeping in someone else's lehaaf.

Giving your shoe to someone sweaty to try on.

Using the treadmill right after someone's coughed all over it.

When you hand someone something and they slither their fingers on your hand.

When your maid uses your nailcutter.

When students force you to have cream/blackforest birthday cake(every day),

People eating the aforementioned cake with their chipped nailpolish fingers.

When people pronounce 's' as 'sh' like Alistair ko 'Aleshter'.

- return of the ebal kirili.

Thursday, December 01, 2011


its official.

Friday, November 11, 2011

How far can my car go if its on the last petrol blinking light?

Pl respond in distance examples in Lahore (e.g. Defence to Liberty) cos I dont know what a km or mile means in Khi. Thanks i'm about to leave work and dont know if doing my groceries is a good idea.

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Earth to Hub

Hello? Are you in Birmingham?

Friday, October 21, 2011

Laugh of the Week

S: You have to listen to the new song by Florence and the Nightingale!

Z: Umm. Florence and the Machine nahin hai?

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

1984 (not Orwell)

Estrella; Shines confidently in adversity, especially without a Straha card. Looks mean, but maybe its just the eyebrows. Crazy hot, but doesn’t believe it entirely. Super smart, knows it and shows it. Fair, so a D plus means a D plus. Spunky, Unique, Charming, Vibrant, Edgy and always up for adventure. Firestarter, I hope you always light up every alley you walk through (with oversized cakes and cathedral walls), especially the ones I find myself lurking in. Even though it’s your special day today, somehow I feel the luckiest.
I got love for you, cos you were born in the aighties.

Tuesday, September 20, 2011


I left my phone at home today.
There was a bomb blast in my neighbourhood yesterday.
I am leaving day after tomorrow.
I have to pick up the laundry tomorrow afternoon.
I miss my bubsies all the time.
The peon in my office, Alastair is totally cool.
I can drive an automatic car!
I go to the gym at least thrice a week.
I got new sneakers.
I can cook.
I love bugging Beenth.
Im taking tomorrow off but haven't told anyone at work yet.
I have a biggish job interview tomorrow.
I want sushi all the time.
I am eating a stolen packet of chips right now, which is slightly seela hua from the humidity.

Tuesday, June 07, 2011


Sometimes, I was telling M this today, my brain is working so fast but my body is so tired I want to write but my fingers are too tired to write. Other times, I am staring at the screen, but so mentally exhausted I wish someone could read my mind, suck out my ideas, and just write for me. Phrase my sentences, insert the appropriate vocabulary for effect and just do the job. Oh well, sometimes I wish I could do the same, save my dreams in an inception inspired silver briefcase and wake up and rewind them to make the coolest movies ever. Anyway.

So I’ve been trying to follow coke studio as much as possible; yesterday I kept switching amongst ALL ten music channels on TV to finally dejectedly land on PTV by fluke on hour later. Lo and behold, only PTV was airing the 2nd episode, which I had by then missed, save for the last 2 songs. One of which was a duet of Arif Hussain Samrat and Zoe Viccaji (the tota at the back), where it wasn’t clear as to why this was a duet and not her on the usual backing vocals. It was a joke: her humming in the background and being a co-singer. What a free-loader. Am listening to Kangna as I type, so verdict on that later.

4.01. I got my teaching evaluation for my last semester at LUMS (for a while at least) before I move to browner non-pastures. I was quite pleased at my comments, where a strength of the course was ‘the instructor was so nice : )’ . Okay, so I was kinda flattered. Also, I found my stolen nameplate, and then stole it for myself. Apparently Marta took hers with her too after she left, so why cant I. I hope accounts don’t come claiming it in 2 months.

Ok. Now I’ve reached the brain too tired to churn out coherent thoughts stage. The paiti story was what I had in mind for tonight.

Sunday, March 20, 2011

Sleeping Lessons

When water goes down the drain in my shower stall, it makes a funny echoing sound, almost melodious as it trickles down the pipes. It sounds so familiar, like a song I’ve grown up listening to. And then one day, as I usually get my epiphanies while brushing my teeth or while in the bathroom generally, I remembered what the drain music sounded like. The opening rift of one of the songs I heard live in November 2007. So one by one I listened to every song I had trying to remember which one it was. The song was as weird as most of the others they've sung. But I was more concerned with the bubbling drain tune.

It could be about insomnia, drugs or a girl. Shrug

Thursday, March 10, 2011

I've loved this song for a year. I saw the meaning today

Quelqu’un M’a Dit

On me dit que nos vies ne valent pas grand-chose
Elles passent en un instant comme fanent les roses
On me dit que le temps qui glisse est un salaud
Que de nos chagrins il s'en fait des manteaux
Pourtant quelqu'un m'a dit...

Que tu m'aimais encore
C'est quelqu'un qui m'a dit que tu m'aimais encore
Serait-ce possible alors ?

On me dit que le destin se moque bien de nous
Qu'il ne nous donne rien et qu'il nous promet tout
Paraît que le bonheur est à portée de main
Alors on tend la main et on se retrouve fou
Pourtant quelqu'un m'a dit...

Mais qui est-ce qui m'a dit que toujours tu m'aimais ?
Je ne me souviens plus, c'était tard dans la nuit
J'entends encore la voix, mais je ne vois plus les traits
"Il vous aime, c'est secret, lui dites pas que je vous l'ai dit"
Tu vois, quelqu'un m'a dit...

Que tu m'aimais encore, me l'a-t-on vraiment dit...
Que tu m'aimais encore, serait-ce possible alors ?

Friday, February 18, 2011


According to Mary Douglas, matter out of place is waste (I’m not putting direct quotes in case this isn’t the exact wording). I wrote my master’s dissertation on Waste, so I should know this. She says that objects or things outside of their proper domain create waste, such as a saucepan in your bedroom, or a pair of shoes in the kitchen. They don’t belong to those areas of the house, hence create waste.

Not only are we surrounded by dirt, both literally and figuratively, our lives are cluttered. By things we don’t need or use but can’t let go of, by people we don’t want in our lives yet constantly pollute our existence, and ideas and thoughts that don’t give us any positive insights, but rather clutter and cloud our better judgment and thinking.

How does one get rid of this clutter? Unlike picking up a saucepan and putting it back on the stove or in the cupboard; or returning the pair of shoes to the shoe rack, clutter needs to be disposed of. It isn’t matter ‘out of place’ then, that needs to be returned or rearranged; rather it is waste that needs to be discarded, disposed of or gotten rid of.

While we may find it easy to get rid of a pair of jeans or shoes that clutter our closets, but without physically disposing of them, how do we remove people who clutter or lives and more so ideas that clutter our minds? Its times like these one could do with a Pensieve, to remove the mind’s burden into a repository of ideas and revisit them when and as one likes. Like a blog?