We'd All Like To Believe We're Different, But Really We're All Exactly The Same.

While trying to escape the fact that I have an exam in 2 days, I decided to randomly start searching for blogs about Pakistan. What I ended up reading was a blog called the --- by a group of (I'm going out on a limb here) Non-Muslims, well they called themselves infidels. What I read there should have made me furious, but half way through I found myself grinning. As ridiculous as it sounds, I've never felt more relieved. I'm not entirely sure how to explain it, but it made me realize that scary, creepy people are a world wide phenomenon. This blog was full of the same sort of hatred that all the stupid, over the top mullahs spew all the time. Destroy them before they destroy us, hit them because they hit us, they're evil, they're vile, they'll destroy our way of life, fee fi fo fum, lets sound the drums of war, etc etc, you get the point. The actual funny bit is that I don't think either side even realizes how similar they really sound. Everyone is the victim, each side is so sure they're right, and each side seems to be looking for a fight. It's all simply a heightened sense of superiority, unbalanced justice and righteous anger and frankly no one is going to win. We're all going to lose and by "We" I mean the human race in general. We have no idea what we want, what we actually hope to achieve and why we're so terrified of living in a world that isn't all the same. Everybody sees only what they want to see, the statistics change depending on who's being blamed, and who's to be blamed changes with whoever's doing the blaming. It's sad obviously, but really it's nice to know that it's not just Muslims or Pakistanis (as everyone would have you believe) that are capable of being irrational, there are other people throughout the world, who are equally deranged. Yup, this is all going to end really well.

We Have Hope. Well, Ok, It's All We Ever Have, But Still.

Zeb and Haniya- Aitbaar.

It's little things like these that give me hope. That allow me to believe that Pakistan still has so much to offer and so much talent to showcase. The lyrics, the music and the video are all beautifully done and dare to show a side of us that so many on the outside are unaware of. It's not all suicide bombings and dirty politics, there's art and beauty and vitality, and as long as we focus on this and try to encourage it as much as we possibly can, even on a personal level, we still have a bright future to look forward to.

I Believe, I Believe, I Believe...Screw You, This Is What I Believe.

Every where I look people, many friends included, seem to be signing up for religious classes. That should be no big deal right, I mean they’re usually just hour long classes talking out issues that are admittedly ambiguous in Islam, no big deal. Then why am I terrified of the idea. That’s honestly the only way I can describe it, I’m shit scared. Every where I look I feel cornered in. It’s as if I’m walking briskly through the crowd with my beliefs clutched to my chest, looking left and right then left again lest someone should try and wrest them out of my hands. I’m perpetually terrified that any day now, I’m going to wake up and find that everything’s changed, that I can no longer drive because I’m a women, that I can’t vote, can’t wear what I want, can’t say what I want, can’t go where I want, can’t even surf the net the way that I want. I feel like I’m losing any control that I had over my own existence, I mean it’s already started hasn’t it. Some one invites me over for a dars and I have to lie and make excuses (or just shut up and go when I run out of excuses), I don’t have the guts to come out and say that you know what I don’t believe in this crap (I try from time to time but it usually ends with people deciding that I’m an atheist or something). I can’t really say that I don’t trust that the female sitting in the centre of the group is an actual scholar and not just the spawn of some politically motivated so called Islamic organization. I can’t say that I believe bringing in shariah laws are a bad idea, since we’re just not capable enough to ensure that they’re not misused. I’ve never been able to explain that I don’t think Allah works in absolutes, that I feel that what we believe and how we follow Islam should be personal, that instead of going into who’s doing what wrong and how, we should try to work on the few basics that are definite. That we should try and be what God expected we’d be all along, good and kind, and generous and modest and honest and just. Be decent human beings at least. We’re so worried about the little things, the nuances of our religion, that you’d think we’d already mastered the muslim part of being a GOOD muslim. Most of all I don’t believe that Allah or Islam are in those little things, I believe they’re in my soul, they’re in the fact that I always try to do the right thing, that Allah knows I try, that even when I slip up (and I slip up a lot) He doesn’t give up on me, that my belief in Him gives me comfort and warmth and no force can shake it. The institutionalization of Islam terrifies me mainly because, I feel, it’ll make me forget all this, it’ll make me forget how much I love Him, and instead (God forbid) make me resent Him even though it’s not the laws that are bad it’s how people twist them that is. I love my religion, I just hate what’s being done to it. I’m just grateful my parents were able to teach me to form my own opinions regardless of what everyone else said and make me realize that God isn’t some unknown force constantly looking for ways to punish us, but one whose constantly looking for ways to help us.

Some Love Gained, Some Love Lost, All Love Remembered, No Matter What The Cost.

Last night as I was cleaning out my landfill of a room, I found my collection of old cards and letters from years gone by, letters, actual paper letters, in envelopes and everything. At least once every year I go through them wondering whether this time I should finally throw them out. After all, many are simply reminders of people who just disappointed me in the end. Surprisingly, it’s always been family that disappointed me the most, never really friends, sure I’ve lost touch with friends and all that, but that’s always been a 2 way street, sort of a simple falling out or a parting of ways. But I’ve always tried to invest so much in family, trusted them, believed in them, and loved them in the hope that they have to feel the same way because we share the same DNA. But it doesn’t really work that way. I guess all relationships are harder than that, even those made by blood. Ties break, trust fails, honesty is lost and people leave. I have written proof of the bonds we had, but with every line I read, all I can ask myself in how things can change so fast? I wonder whether they even remember what it used to be like, whether they even remember me? I’ve never been good at dealing with broken relationships, I’ve never been able to let go and forget. It’s like the 2 ends of a string, they let go of their end ages ago, but I’m still holding on to mine, trying to figure out where it went wrong, what I could have done to make it right, wanting them to love me like I loved them. Does that make me needy, desperate, dependant? Yeah, probably, but knowing it still doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t change how I feel, it doesn’t change what I expect from the people around me, all I wish is that I knew what they expected of me.
Maybe that’s why I’m so attached to Karachi, over all these years, it’s the only relationship that hasn’t change, it’s still familiar and comforting and always there. I know I can always come home to Karachi, and it’ll always accept me.

Unwell.

Hold on
Feeling like I'm headed for a breakdown
And I don't know why

But I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell
I know right now you can't tell
But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see
A different side of me
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little impaired
I know right now you don't care
But soon enough you're gonna think of me
And how I used to be...me
- Matchbox 20.

PMS.

Ineffectual (adjective): not competent, decisive, or authoritative enough to achieve desired aims.
Incompetent
Inadequate
Inept

Impotent (adjective): without the strength or power to do anything effective or helpful
Powerless
Helpless
Ineffective
Incapable

Hopeless (adjective): 1) unable to succeed or improve, or unable to be resolved, helped, cured.
2) feeling or showing no hope
Desperate
In despair
Despondent
Unpromising
Fruitless
Bleak

Exhausted (adjective): 1) Tire somebody out.
2) Use something up.
3) Try all possibilities.
Tired
Worn out
Shattered

Schizophrenic.

These lyrics epitomize where I stand these days.

Stop and stare
I think I'm moving but I go nowhere
Yeah I know that everyone gets scared
But I've become what I can't be, oh Stop and stare
You start to wonder why you're 'here' not there
And you'd give anything to get what's fair
But fair ain't what you really need
Oh, can u see what I see
-One Republic.

Pocketful of Sunshine
I got a pocket, got a pocketful of sunshine
I got a love and I know that it's all mine
Ohhh
Whoa
Do what you want but you're never going to break me
Sticks and stones are never gonna shake me
Nooo
Woah
Take me away (Take me away)
A secret place (A secret place)
A sweet escape (A sweet escape)
Take me away (Take me away)
Take me away (Take me away)
To better days (To better days)
Take me away (Take me away)
A hiding place (A hiding place)
-Natasha Bedingfield.

Who Changed?

4 years ago, when I made the decision to leave my old world behind, I was positive I had made the right decision. Since then I've had very little occasion to regret the move I made. Infact most of me, on good days or bad, will always be thankful and proud of the fact that I had the courage to make it. So many never leave the cocoon, as a friend of mine put it. Since then I've met a city full of wonderful people, made some amazing friends and really been able to respect them and learn from them. I've done things I would have never imagined doing before either. Yet a small part of me will forever feel this terrible pang of sadness at the naivety that led me to believe, that I could turn my back on the lifestyle and the priorities and the belief system of that world, but still keep the people. Frankly, from time to time, I really miss them. I miss the people we all used to be. I miss the secrets, the gossip, the tragedies, the drama, the laughs, the dreams and most of all the frivolity. It's not like it all disappeared at once, there are still the 6-monthly phone calls, the birthday scraps on facebook, the yearly meet up, and the accidental run in. But it all seems to be getting fewer and far between, not to mention far more quiet. Neither of us ever have much to say each other and the conversation seems to be getting far more tedious. The really sad fact is that I don't even think it's their fault. I'm the one who changed, I was always different, but by leaving I voluntarily turned my back on them, and now it can never be the same. Most of all, I hate the fact that I have all these happy memories from as far back as kindergarten but absolutely no one to share them with, and that just sucks.

A Little Research Goes A Long Way.

A few weeks back I got one of those forwarded smses doing the rounds these days. You know, the one that goes because of Denmark's actions against Islam boycott Nestle, etc. The second I read it my blood began to boil, not because I'm against the boycotting of danish products in response to their disrespect towards Islam, but because of the absolute stupidity of that message! NESTLE ISN'T DANISH! I mean, honestly, how hard is it grasping that simple little fact? Why is it so hard to actually read the milkpak carton to confirm what country the company belongs too before stradling your white horse and riding out to rescue Islam? It is exactly this sort of superiority complex that has brought muslim countries and muslims in general to the precipice of an economic, intellectual, pollitical and moral dungheap! The idea that just because we're muslims, we're somehow absolutely perfect, that we require no improvement and we just know everything. Moreover the idea that just because we're muslims we're automatically forgiven for all our sins, I don't know about other muslim countries, but atleast in Pakistan this theory is all too common. That nomatter how many times we lie, cheat, steal or refuse to pay taxes, all is forgiven simply because we pray five times a day and beg God for forgiveness. Maybe it's just me, but I thought that to really be granted forgiveness we have to promise not to repeat our sins and then actually NOT REPEAT them. I know it's not my place to judge, but really sometimes it's all a little too much! And as for boycotting Nestle, it's one of the very few companies that manufacture their products in Pakistan. It sets up factories and hires our own people, by boycotting such companies all we're really doing it causing factories to shut down, leading to increased unemployment, increased frustration, desperation, and God forbid suicide bombers. So please just research your messages and emails before passing them along so as to prevent confusion, and please always always think about the cosequences of your actions and try for a little empathy.

My City's Soul.

For the past few days, my nani's been recovering from surgery in an ancient hospital in Saddar. This had made frequent trips to the heart of Karachi quite necessary, and in the midst of these trips, I have rediscovered my city. I have rediscovered the joy of fresco key dahi bhaley and burns road ki rabri, the vulgar billboards of bambino cinema and awe-inspiring architecture of the Jinnah courts and the various decrepit little buildings dotting the side of each road. I have been reacquainted with the paradox of a country where sex is taboo, but the china health centre, in the homeopathic alley, proudly proclaims to specialize in sex problems. I have seen a small, dimly lit, path weave it's way roughly and haphazardly through a gap between 3 buildings and for a second felt it equivalent to the alleyways of Nice. Ridiculous? Maybe. But in the past 3 days I have felt Karachi's soul and amidst the water shortages, electricity shortages and crater filled roads, it has rekindled the love I feel for this city by the sea. It has made me realize how no matter where I've been or where I've lived or where I may yet go, I always have and always will return. How I belong to this city and how it belongs to me. It's my home, but more importantly, it's my identity, for I....am a Karachiite.