what is manure?

its not october.. when im disoriented and bugged, i forget the time and day and dates... not forget, i dont much bother with them... it thus becomes one big awful period.... without dates... my cd rom has stopped working again.. its got its own dimaag... i got a cupla very cool cd's from sound of music... but i dislike intensely the dude who is at the counter there.... budtameez and obnoxious, im surprised people still go there... its asking for a phadda juyst the act of going there... khair, i try and keep communication to a minmum... yae dikhain, kitnae kee hae, (hand over money) shukriya *asshole* aaah feeels good -----------------------------------------------------printer bhi nahin kaam karra.... i dont like beign helpless... cartridge bhi naya agya hae par no ones putting it in and i dont know how to do it myself.. and there just landed a brand new, very sexy looking hp3550 which too i dont know how to put up... i refuse to ask them another time, will just get expensive as hell print out from university tom.. ill have to walk adha manhoos ghanta just to get to that particular lab------------------------------------------------- abhi saree raat baith kar kaam karna hae... i need to get this stuff out of the way and start with some serious studying after the 5th... woh features aur interviews bhi poorae karnae hain... writing for the countrys best english newspaper isnt all its made out to be.. at the end of the day its as simple as this: WORK... the glamour of being in images or the review or any other section of the paper is momentary.... the work however, is gadha mazdoori.. what am i complaining about yaar, im doing soemthing iv always been into, soemthing i love doing... loge kaisae kaisae kaam kartae hain, careers they dont give a rats whisker for... how many times we forget how blessed we are.. in the greater scheme of things, all said and done, we are so blessed... acha tau thank you bluepaneer and ali and anyone else who takes the time to read this.. good of you.. its motivating.. knowing someone somewhere is reading what you have to say, without knowing who u be, where u come from, what u do... cheeeers amigowz!

it is... since the last 2 years or so iv been feeling this strange, very ajeeb sa, dosconcerting vibe that in the relationship that has been with me in all times, im putting in most of the effort... because its such an important relationship and because its almost a case of hero worship, im unable to say anything...there are timeas when i start to, but the very masoomyat of her stops me... i know her in and out, and i know inspite of everythign how much she loves me also, my saying stufff she is aware of, will hurt her.. it will make her break out of the little bubble she puts herself in... nice safe stupid little bubble where everythign is fine and silliness reigns suprememe... but this last week when the whole school and unprofesional people arguement broke out, i was left so angry.. i mean fuck, if good intelligent and resourceful people arent goign to do things to change the system, who is? who the fuck are u to complain abiout anything when u are not willing to do anythign yourself... im all of a sudden so unbeliebvably angry... 'i dont want to ruin my brothers career' well dimwit, how about looking at it with some brains and just a little of the khudaree iv been believing you posess all along..... mnn just put on music... i feel better.. seriously, kitnae afsose kee baat hae.... we will fawn and suck upto the system or look the other way... because it dioesnt serve our purpose, we will not take on the system.. we will let it continute screwing people.. such a lot of sense this makes to me now but their arguement and reasoning is so potently selfish and they actually honestly feel what thetyre saying is right..,they dont see the sickeningness of it... kya bannae ga yaar is mulk ka jab jawaan, achae ghar kae parhae likhae loge iss tarah kee spinelessness dikhaain gae... theres nothing as horrid as losing respect for someone you had held in highesteem... my respect for them both has fallen a few grades.. its all about what you want in life at the end of the day... a solid career for yourself? a smooth career for yourself? a slight, teeny change for the better in the world because of you? maybe i sound selfrighteous... heck, i know i do.. but i can honestly say i have never let my own good/bad stop me from taking on smthg i feel is wrong.. and guess what, my love for the pumpkin wil make sure this entire remaisn right here... i can never come out and say it like i should... which brings me to how i am at that point right now where im used to being treated like number 85 on the shitlist.. just liek i do to A... knwoing how someone loves us so much, we tend to take that person for granted.... i put in nothing in my relationship with him... she doesnt put anything here... we all love each other like mental... yet this is there too... kiss qissam kee bakwaas hae yae? so much work to do... later gator tujh sae naraaz nahin zindagee, hairaaan hoon mae...lalalaaaaaaa...very nice song :)

musafir hoon yaarooooooooon... na ghar hae na tikhana.. mujhae chaltae jana haeeee... buss, chalte janaaaaa.. im listening to frys c.d... hmmn, pissing me off, dissing me like that... khair, this too shall pass... so much has, this will also..... i hate these shrinkesque, introspective blogs so ill shuttup about the takleefaat in my life and this blog and get on wid it! i dislike the yer, wid, thx business... bhai likh rahae ho tau tameez sae hee likh lo... i want to bitch a little... well not quite bitch, definitely whine...abay why am i explaing... kaun parhta bhi hae yae? im goign to go shower, then ill vent.. another new age term like digress, progressive, regurigate and yes, vent

Getting married is fine and dandy. The pressure to wed having become somewhat akin to a pressure cooker about to explode, I convinced myself of the above statement, clenched shut my eyes and took the proverbial plunge. Swimming in the proverbial pool I took the plunge into, it must be admitted that being engaged is quite a bit of fun- one has a legal boyfriend with whom to go to all the parties, the gifts being showered left right and center is an added plus, not to mention that nice big rock on the finger. What I had not banked on however was the preparations towards the big day. I will not bore you about the irritating details like booking this hotel or that, going to Malaysia for the honeymoon (brilliant shopping, great weather) or Sri Lanka (cheaper, closer, beautiful scenery and straw hats) or just England where Daddy-in-laws flat is all we will see considering the snow outside. All these details are trivial in the face of the enormous burden a bride-to-be must shoulder. Her Wedding Trousseau. The much talked about Jahez is not what I am referring to. Thankfully, having married into an educated and decent family, we wont be exchanging beds, chairs and ovens with them. Wedding Trousseau refers to the clothes, shoes, jewelry, make-up and lingerie (yes, lingerie) one prepares for the afterlife preceding D-Day. Never having paid much attention to cousins parading their goodies in suitcases prior to their weddings, the entire shopping-till-we-must-drop situation hit me smack in the middle of my eyes. A few days after the formal engagement, my mother and mother-in-law conned me into going shopping with them. ‘Buss beti, just a few hours.’ A very convincing ‘Arrae, we’ll even drop in at the sale at Liberty’ did the trick. Book glutton, book hog, book freak that I be, it was a close and shut case- sacrifice few hours to shopping and spend some heavenly time in the midst of books. Of course that wasn’t meant to be. My Amma (the original one) and Amma (the new one) went berserk to say the least. In the period of 4 hours we managed to buy not only more than 11 suits but also order an exorbitantly priced gold set from an obnoxious jeweler. I can feel the color creep up in my face as I think of that set. While people die less than a few miles from Saddar, where we placed the order, I buy metal and diamonds priced such that it crosses all limits of decency. The Mothers were deeply amused at my obvious discomfort. I could practically see the ‘What a lovely little child I gave birth to/ have chosen for my chand sa beta ’ sentiments going through their minds like subtitles in a movie. Of course the visuals accompanying them were not of children working in mechanic shops but of me looking like a walking talking treasure island on shaadi day. In case you haven’t gotten the exact picture yet and feel I am being hysterical, please refer to these statistics which grow every day. At this very moment I have more than 78 shalwar kameezes ready. More than 34 are in the pipeline. 11 gold, white gold, assorted stone (ruby, diamond, pearl etc) studded sets have been brought as have been various ‘trinklets’ like bangle sets, jhumkaaz, payals and enough gold chains and bracelets to go all around the University. There are close to 30 pairs of shoes in hand while more are on their way from abroad with friends and family. If you still think I’m behaving paranoid and not like an about-to-be-bride, please don’t read on because you and your likes are the cause of misery on earth and I don’t want to have anything to do with you. Harsh? I don’t want to have you as my reader. I hope you break your neck. This bitterness and rather obscene anger arises due to sheer helplessness. Humor and all is very well, but that’s all everyone sees to my predicament. Nobody appears to understand (save my darling father who too is helpless in the face of The Mothers) that this mad, almost senseless buying is causing me guilt, shame and at the risk of you barfing, a strange sort of pain. After the first few days of ignoring me, I got a stern lecture from aunts, The Mothers and anyone else who heard of my behavior. I was ungrateful. Did I not understand how lucky and blessed I was? You’re starting a new life, don’t you want new things. This then, was the gist of the conclusion and ever since I have been barred from speaking on the topic. The realization that sane, kind, gentle people go mental in the face of societal norms and that no one has the strength or brains to take a stand against mindless traditions was a sad one. It's one I am still coming to terms with. Coming back to the topic at hand, how not to die of guilt while preparing your wedding trousseau. When asked by The Mothers if you like something at the shop, smile and nod. Guilt! Tobah. You’re starting a new life- don’t you want new things?

considering how im on this big self righteous wave, lets talk about what a bad girl i was this morning.. i skipped school to go to the police headquarters with moms friend in the morning to ge myself a lerners license.. about bloody time, my kids will laugh themselves mental when they hear amma got her license as 22... so aunty obviously knew the place etc etc ... it was all very well till we had to go for the digi pic and get the license... in a room full of people, people who aunty very smugly informed me had been waiting for many hours, she and i walked right upto the front where we were put ahead of everyone... i felt so sick, i didnt have the guts to look up at any of the peoples faces... yae kiss qissam ka chutiyapa hae? almost all the poeple there were aspiring bus drivers, rishkawallas and various other poor people.. yes, i said it and ill say it again, damn u and your political correctness.. they were all poor.. me with my snazzy cell phone, aristocratic nose and aunty in hand, got right to the head while these people sat there abd looked at me... maybe if someone had screamt or passed a rude comment i wouldnt feel quite as bad... yaaar, yae kiss qissam kee bakwaas hae... kitnee ziada takleef kee baat hae keh na insaafi itnee barh gayee hae leh nobody even bothers to point it out the day started funny...came home, had omlette with mommy and slept till evening... was out all evening and just got back a while ago, roubnd midnught.... checked out the new al baik place which was cheaper than kfc and a lot like it but not AS good as my darling kfc budha babba.. this is such an incoherat blog... im very undecided about it.. do i want to write stuff i know will eventually be knownas my work.. after the complete non anonymity at the other place, this is so nice.. and soemtimes it isnt... zindagi ka naam hae confusion.... just for that, ill post smthg i wrote for my feature writing class... its on the same self righteous wave length u get all over this particular blog... do enjway

Sohni dharti Allah rakhae, Qadam qadam abaad tujhae, Qadam qadam abaad - Famous Pakistani National song When I was a little girl, every 14th August Sohni Dharti was played by my older cousins in our conservative household where music of any sort was otherwise disallowed. Till today I get a strange heavy feeling whenever I hear this song. Sohni dharti makes me unbearably sad. Because the song is a sweet, gentle patriotic song that will touch even the most untouched. And then because the content derides reality. Apparently Allah is not much concerned about this dharti any more. That our apathetic metal set-up is most obvious in this song asking Allah to ensure the well being of the country, upsets me also. What shall we do while he keeps abaad qadam qadam this land of ours? Paint pictures? Fly kites? Eat Nihari? I am hurt, I get angry and many times I just get so sad. If this was meant to be a pleasant article on the ills that assail the country with a nice pat ending, I?m sorry but that?s not happening. I?m angry and I want to talk about my anger. I want to talk. I want to know why my people are rotting the very society they live in. Don?t they know that personal benefit can happen only for so long? If we don?t take care of others, of things and people that make us, one day the very air will stop lending itself to us. Like the farmer who after using chemicals for five years loses his land. His bank balance is obscenely fat from the five years of good harvest but his land, the land he lives off is dead. Barren. It doesn?t breathe now. Is this what will become of my country? Feeding of it like greedy lechers are we one day going to be left without any sense of respect, of pride, of love for Christ?s sake? The simple, tender love one feels for one?s country and fellow countrymen. Will it soon, just, go away? Enough anger. Lets talk about how it started. When did the apathy start? When did we start lying. Cheating. When was being rich made respectable and being honest, baewaqoofi? Who decided and when. Was it Zia- Ul- Haq? Was it Nazia Hassan and then MTV? Was it the Military or the Mullah? Or was it us? Did we as a people one day decide that since Pakistan appeared to be knowing not where it went, we should start looking out for you and me only. Who was the first man to say,?Abay Pakistan ka kuch nahin banna. Khud banna jo banna sakta hae.? Who was the first dipper into the public chequer? Who was the first official to use his official use car to have his kids picked from swimming class? Who was the first shopkeeper to add a tiny extra weight under his actual weight? And who was the first man to write an explicative at the back of the seat in the bus? Who was the first teacher to allow cheating in the board exams? Who was the first teacher to sit in the staff room while students sat in a teacherless class? Maybe one child didn?t turn up the next day. Maybe he never went back to school again. Who was the first teacher to get involved in politics and let it influence his students? Do these people know they are responsible for starting the avalanche that is consuming scrumptiously the entire nation? Who then, was the first parent to refuse their child?s favored mate because their religion did not match, because their social classes did not? Who enforced and reveled in this class and that? Who called a Shia?a a kaafir? Who called an Ahmedi a non-muslim? Who committed the first daaaka? And did it hurt just a little? Who killed the first Sunni? Who killed the first Shia? Who shot the first Bengali? Why? So many questions. Little answers. Aao, lets talk. Maybe it will corrode on the sickeningly oily layer of bloody indifference coating our country. Maybe we will be abaad again. Lets sit down, drink chai and talk. Be gentle and kind to each other, and talk.

why is there such a taboo attached to dancing? why are we so conscious about bodily movements... so many times i have had amma put her hand on my knees or frowned if im hilloing... why does a god who is nice say no to dancing? or does he? when i hear soemthing very nice, a song, a particular sentence from a book, meet a nice person who i had a good tioe talking to, i feel like dancing and dance i do.. yesterday i danced with the gayest man alive.. a dr AH, he is a published writer, very la dee dah etc etc.. but how he danced.. itna aza aya.. we did the full 70's (or is it 80's?:)) agae peechae dancing scene a hundred times.. i remember at the peak of my nirvana some 2 years ago, when i would listen to these particular songs, they would fill me up.. and how we danced... at m's mehindi some years ago, i rem all her friends from lyceum were going mental dancing... and then subsequent interaction with others when we got out of school and into college.. at school we were too cool to ghans dalo boys and dancing with your best friend and go home and take tutions withy her is just no fun... what a liar i am.. i never took tutions with abest friend.. but you know wat im saying eh? i red in a readers digest special on fidel catro some 7, 8 years ago that he never danced... because it was humanizing... every movement of your dancing speaks about you as a person, said someone... i think he was referring to how we are conscious, sometimes totally into it, how we do it the rigth way and how we appear paindu when we dont know the right thing... but anyone who has seen the balochi man of the PNCA troupe dance.. oh my god.. i want to jump right up there and hug him... he is this black man with the whitest, biggest most beautiful smile on his face... this is a smile thats literally all over his face.. from his eyes to forehead to chin,,, down till the neck.. its there in the way he moves, eyes closed, smiling... ah, joy