what is manure?

bara just got married.. it was actually his valuima today, the wedding took place in quetta(!) last weeek... apparently met the girl over the internet.. she is quetta doing her m.b.b.s (got to hear all kinds of cheap 'hai free ilaaj ho ga' jokes when mangni was announced) whilst he was in england at LSE.. it went on for a year after which they met somehow and soon were enaged... the girl looked happy as did he..both were constantly smiling and talking... larki's dad is balochistan hot shot (dont want to mention name and post incase anyone reading would know them) and smthg with the UN also.. they were nice ppl.. all gorgeous, friendly and very very tameez kae... theyre hazara shias, from the tribe of general moosa khan and the young police trainees killed in quetta last month were fromtheir tribe as well... it struck me, during the horrifyingly long photographic session thatit diodnt matter at all where one came from.. hazara or charsadda or old lahore or tariq road or defence or if oen weas a sunni, shia, wahabi, ahmedi, panjabi, pathan.. if two people know that yes, this is special- everything else falls into place....how nicely we all got on with the girls people... funny how this wisdom comes unto me when its all too late..... i cant deny feeling sad.. but iv learnt tro swallow it, look at the good sides of what i did, try and push away the deep, dark horrible feeling inside my heart and tummy and smile.... i loooked pretty.. my shoe broke before we reached the wedding so G man took me to buy new shoes... i wanted to get these fixed, theyre a very pretty rather beloved pair but he appeared to try to want to make a point by buying me new shoes... well, whooz complainin? i got a pretty goldenoish brown pair that made my feet looook prittay! doesnt take long for a nice, intelligent, strong charatored youbg woman to turn into a little aunty, or if we must be honest here, a whore from hell but theres happy things too, where there are sad.. and i will, must, focus on those... the boys were all over the place... the entire family comes together, even the smallheartpeople... i guess seeing someone get married has smthg to do with it... bara has come a logn way... from being gay during o'levels to marrying a lovely, simply beautiful young woman with much pressure to not do so- he's shown how often we misjudge people.. and how our smartassdness comes back to haunt us... my spirit is broken i think.. someone broke it.. and because of that, i broke anothers. i wish i hadnt goodnight :)

theres this dude in the cubicle next to min whooz been having a sneezing fit since the last 10 minutes.. its really really funny... he's a sweet enough fellow, always fighting and making up with his girl.. i think her name is saira.... on another note, that beautiful shazad nawaz in mohsin hamid's mothsmoke's movie 'daira' playing daru, had my sad little heart aflutter... i saw the first bit of it on geo last night.. it brought back to me why i hated the book.. i disliked it immensely... it made an odd, ball sa in my stomach, like zadie smiths white teeth... i think bina was right when she said its whats happening to the charactors in the book that puts you off.. reading about daru being fired from his job was disturbing.. seeing it happen made me wince until i changed channels when the main action was happening and came back when it was over.. though not perfectly made, Daira is worth a watch. the charas scene between murad badshah and daru on the rooftop was superbly done (as was the first kiss aired on a pakistani channel by the way.. my eyes came OUT) the police scene where daru is stopped in his fx as he drives home drunk was so on the mark i felt sad... it reminded me of a few weeks ago when going home late A's small car was stopped at the brit consulate barricade while R's nice fancy car which was speeding wasnt... the police men let him go when the other two cars came back for him and we told them we'd have their undies removed in very bad urdu language... the high at being connected is a sick, ugly emotion everone of us possesses... how many times have we seen bike men and rishka's being stopped while pretty cars sail right by? i see it on the way home from work every single day... what can become of a country where na insaafi like this happens and in daylight? and if there is nainsaafi, shouldnt it happen with everyone? i dont think it would be quite as painful to see everyone get screwed.. having only the helpless being squeezed is what daira shows (and my grammer is going out of the window) and thats what makes it difficult to watch... i deliberately missed the second part today... i am reminded of the time a candy man, the kind who twist the candy in your preferred shapes and toys, started howling outside nani's house... the police men were harassing him and instead of negotiating, fighting or being cowed, he started crying like a baby... the police men were freaked out... i remember them zoooming away and the pathan chowkidaar go up to smartlittle candy man and slap him happily on the back... next time the police get you and you are a poor unconnected soul, start crying... what else does one have when he has nothing and ppl still want to take his? jo thori bohat dignity hae, that too you give up... did he feel funny selling his candy to the kids who saw him cry that day? i am truly curious..being emotional is no fun...its no longer cute

todays a fine karachi day.. a bright sun shiny day...the kind of day where the sun shines in through the clouds without actual dhoop.. if u look up into the sky you cannot see the sun but youll squint terribly.. i didnt know this.. or rather i hadnt ever thought about it... its funny how smthg will suddenly make sense to you just as soon as someone tells you.. last year this time life was so different.. complete mental set up has changed, total focus, aims, version of happiness.... but the days were the same.. like this, it was a typical summer day... not just in terms of the heat, this is a clear, strong, fresh smelling day.. i want to eat a cloud! aisa din comes once or twice or just a few times in the entire year... i think i can make it now/ the pain is gone/ all of the bad feelings have dissapeared/ here is the rainbow i been praying for/ its gonna be a bright bright sun shiny day - jimmy cliff :)

im trying to get a comments and site counter here but its not happening... and considering how no one klnows this exists, the idea of having a net counter and a comment link is stopid.. im going to go make myself tea and then im going to WORK

iv just moved into a new cubicle at work... its in the corporate section where im nundated by several fax machines, so many printers and one really big scanner... now this section of the floor has yuppies.. (i really need to go back to work) and these guys are often bursting into spontaneous laughter or shouting matches which is very funny because otherwise office is very very proper... so today in my new cubicle in the section where i am only female, i was audience to one of the managers taking one employees khaaal.. now this dude being ragged (MM) i have worked with in the last six months and thoight him strange.. he has ultii pultii angraizee (the biggest sin) and wears these really funny shoes.. they have those silver things the cowboys have in old westerns... so these guys were all getting a firing MM especially and it ended with them all slappingeach others backs and the manager sayign smthg that caused thyem all to laugh... the environment in this section is really funny... MM just canme up to me a few minutes ago (he was here earlier too asking for help with todays crossword) and he said sorry for the crassness.. said they would be more careful now that i was here.... i told him i had a hearing problem to which a huge smile split his face... for soem reason, i am touched

amma told me a little while ago that R has blood cancer. she is a little woman who comes by every few days to do soem chores, hangs around, irons clothes, helps with the veggie cutting/peeling and wears her lumpy black hijab and leaves... often when its too hot to iron, i save clothes for her and when she come sin, she does the istree while i sit/sleep/stand in the ac and watch tv or read... she has lumps all over her body which she would initially show me but over the months she has realized i have little stomach for distorted ugly things on ones body and so she had come down to only expalining she hadnt come in so many days because her kidney is growing larger, swelling like a pumpkin and it hurts to pick heavy things.. so i told mom why she hadnt still taken her to the doctor and she said that R's husband wouldnt let her get anymore operations... she has little ugly sick lumps all over her body... she works all day.. somehow the idea ios not very painful to me.. so she has cancer.. so she is poor.. so she is in pain.. so what to me? someone else will iron my clothes... i think im trying to shock myself out of a stupor... i wonder what will become of her.. her husband isnt letting her get an operation to remove infected organs, he'll tau never let her go to shaukat khanum... lets see how this plays out

i had to submit a piece by this past monday. after running all over the city this last week, im suddenly not interested. i have to submit it by this evening, in less than 2 hours and im sitting here listening to the chipmunks. this is very strange and a little unlike myself considering how in the last few years especially last few months iv put acedemics and fun behind meeting professional deadlines and commitments. this is the first time im working for this particular section of the paper and why im behaving this way is freaking me out. why am i writing here, this, when i should be writing about how the art scene, the performign art scene in pakistan is completely manipulated by the high class while the urdu speaking, nazimabad hailing yougn men and women are treated like old socks? is it because of the put off it was interviewing greats of the performign arts in pakistan? why are people pretentious? why do they talk nasty about ppl they dont know from adams? DI.L.'s 'na kissi ka kuch lae jana hae aur na kissi ko kuch dae jana hae' echoes in my chota sa brain sometimes. i remeber one day reading smthg along the lines of 'why be a peach, when u are a melon?' sahee baat hae, why? why does the most popular dancer in pakistan and one of the most popular in south east asia have to be so condescending and patronizing and just generally budtameez in her manner? or am i over reacting? i am. i am often budtameez or rudely indifferent to people i consider lesser intelligent thn myself. even people who are not quite as 'with it' as i be. are u snorting yet? what about a few years ago when peer pressure made me into a khichree of a youg woman who didbnt know her elbow from her ass, and went about her way behaving like a little heroine kee bachi.i sound like a mulliyani. self flaggelation is sick. the mullahs son next door got married last night. patakhas going on till 3 in the night. kill them all i tell you, kill them all. i will go home. make sweet hot tea. and get that manhoos article out of the way.

this is a test post but i solemnly swear that i will not disclose my identity no- no- no- till the day i have babies grown up enough to read what their mother had to say in the orime of her youth after which i will delete this.. until then, i will not disclose anything. i will write in complete and unadultered privacy, annonymity and other such cheddars because when everyone knows who you are, you think twice before you write and those of you who know me will know what, who, why i refer to. and here i go again. bloody little drama queen little M used to call me. before she became other people i ate so much pizza and garlic bread today its unfunny. feel like im going to faint. hokay, first blog to go on air in two secs. Cheeers!