Tea and Other Good Things: The day I nearly got arrested in the Kingdom of Sa...

Tea and Other Good Things: The day I nearly got arrested in the Kingdom of Sa...: There are times when things happen, but the mind and body is a mere guest to the scenes played out. And then in the quiet 4 am of an ordina...

Misgivings and Procrastination_ A love story with an ALMOST happy ending

Perfect beginning and perfect ends, great stories and earth-grating ideas. This is what stops one from writing. For me, it is the wonderfully wrapped box, which a child is afraid to open lest his dreams come crashing down to discover a piece of sensible clothing instead of a toy that he so longed for. So, he prolongs it as much as possible to savour the dizzying feeling of anticipation. Soon, the gift gets lost in the mundane meanderings of life and years go by... until, one day whilst cleaning things in the attic, the eye spies a shiny wrapper. Curiosity urges the dust-shrivelled fingers to coax the sticky grimy tape off the wrapper. With the rustle of the paper, a memory emerges of the gift that was once presented but unopened, misgivings and doubt that were too great to handle. Now that the years have painted more lines around the body, more corners than edges, the mind is wiser to know that it is none-the-wise. It matters only that what was inside, was to derive joy, it was to give and it was to receive.

Many eons ago, I had read an essay on the follies of writing. The author had made a compelling case against amateurs writing and filling their two-cents worth of ideas out in the world and filling it with garbage. It had also said something of the lines that whatever one may do, one will not achieve the greatness of the writers of yonder years because this generation is too polluted and are the breeds of incunks.

That was the time I contracted a strong strain of Idiotoviridae where upon whatever I wrote was never good enough. I was my own best critic and a very fastidious one at that. My other good chum was no other than Procrastination who with cahoots with the Critic went on a joy ride for the better part of half a decade. They almost made it into the dusky, drowsy sunset.

Almost.

There are somethings inside a person that are stronger than misgivings. It lies in the corner of the top most cabinet of the kitchen where you shoved it and can barely touch it now with the tips of your fingers. There is just barely enough light in that dim, web engorged quarter to make out the shadow of its existence. I know it's there. I've been tempted to fetch it many a times. I even know that it is the best of all my belongings. And that is what is scary. The What-Ifs are just so many... so so many.

The quandary nearly deafening, I tremble, stretch and grasp. Initially, it is just air and cobwebs and dust. I push my toes to the very tip until my nails dig into the tiles all-ballerina-style and just touch enough of it to give it shove.

That shove _my ramblings, I present to you. Whoever you may be.

Of Maiming or Because I said So!

I got up today.

Ready to take on the world.

By mid afternoon my head was spinning in multitudinous directions. I started grumbling and bitching in my own head. To get over it I started day dreaming about the next season of Greys Anatomy and would Izzie Steven really really die or will they bring her back from the dead? and .........

and wham

I could swear it was someone inside me.

The only thing he said was "Seriously????"

I was stunned for a moment. Jumped out of my chair and started pacing and realised that something inside of me was screaming!

Zahra! Good God! Has it come to this? Are you stupid? You ridiculous old senseless ..... umm (and other inappropriate words to myself).

We are conditioned to be parasites from birth.

We are spoon-fed at school. I remember getting lower grades at school because I didnt copy the answer exact same to same from the text book. I used to pour over my answers and question my teachers but I was just told to 'print' my answers.

I was not allowed to question.

When I found some idea contradictory, I was not allowed to contradict.

When I found something new that the teacher didnt know, I was rebuked.

When something did not get through my skull, I was called stupid and told to memorize.

("Who has heard of "other" teaching methods?")

I was told to respect the teachers I didnt respect.

I was told to do things that I was not taught to do and expected to do them like a craftsman.

I was told....

I was ordered...

I was told....

I was ordered...

I was ordered...

.................and I was told not to "THINK".

My elders had already done the thinking for me.

Its ingrained to:

Not tell the truth cause it will hurt others.

Not share ideas that are different, it may cause outrage and ostracism.

I was told to understand and compromise that which I thought was false.

and as I thought about me and my generation being maimed, I realised its been like a vicious circle. This story has probably been going on for generations. Those who realised it, got liberated. Those who didnt, are right now watching Star Plus ke saas bahu dramey and crying over them or busy 'poondying at girls the age of their kids' or sitting frustrated at some frustrating place doing frustrating work and wishing to just get some sleep without the power going out.

By the time I have finished writing and editing this, they will be calling up their friends and chittering chattering about "oh do you know!"es or sippping tea and watching the latest atrocities on the news or watching cricket (depends if there is a live match going on and lots of gambling to be done or not) or yelling at things and people who are inconsequential or...or ...or ...or...

Incidently I read this and I dont care how long it takes, just shut up and read it!

I have "ORDERED it!."

and do it because "I HAVE SAID SO.!!"

and do it because "I AM TELLING YOU TO!!!."

and because "I KNOW BETTER!!!!." and you DON'T!!!!

so dont you dare........WARNA!!!

copy paste material: Queues of Circular Complaints

and for the season finale quote.....

They advertise not to waste electricity. How about advertising about the one thats in everyone's brain?

The Blocks

Once upon a time there was a teacher who imparted the wisdom of time to her students.

One day she entered the class. From a bag she removed a large empty glass jar and placed it on the table in front of the class. Next she removed a bag full of colorful wooden blocks of different shapes and sizes. Last of all, she pulled a small metal bucket of sand from her bag and placed it in on the table.

The teacher emptied the bucket of sand into the large empty glass jar so that the jar was about half-full of sand. "Now," she said, "I want you to come put these red, blue, and yellow wood blocks into the jar. We need to fit all of them in the jar." For the next few minutes, the students took turns trying to fit all of the blocks into the jar, but it just couldn't be done. There wasn't enough room. After they'd all had a chance to try, the teacher announced that the time was up and sent the students back to their seats.

"Do you want to know how to make it all fit?," she whispered to them.

"Yes," they responded enthusiastically, "Show us!"

The teacher proceeded to remove all of the blocks from the jar and placed them on the table. Next, she poured the sand back into the bucket it came from. Then she placed the blocks back into the empty jar. With no sand in the jar, the blocks fit, but came all the way to the brim of the jar. Next, the teacher poured all of the sand from the bucket into the jar of blocks. The sand filled in the empty spaces between the blocks, and the sand and blocks all fit in the jar perfectly. "Ooooh!," they exclaimed.

"This is like life," our teacher said. "The blocks represent the most important things in our lives like our families and school." The sand is everything else, like playing with our friends and watching cartoons.

When we put the sand in the jar first, we can't fit all of the important things in.

But when we do the most important things first, we can still fit all of the other "fun" things in too."

The Industrious and the Indolent

Yes we have a lot of mettle but we use it quite frequently on feats of thick-wittedness.

Its the era when people are either dazed or venomous or both.

The fact that we, as a people are industrious and achievers is not overstated. We don't lack in intelligence or capabilities. But there is some link missing somewhere.

The brain drain over the last 2 decades has not helped the country. Most students, selfishly and perhaps rightly, flee the country to other parts of the world. (They face difficulties in both regions. Perhaps they are racially discriminated outside but at least they aren't killed in common places.

At least there are laws that can help one get justice... real justice. You dont get mugged at every nook and corner. You can carry your cell phone and Ipod and no dwell in trepidation of it being stolen the very next minute.)

The few brains that are left, sense the need and urgency. However there are very few mediums left for them to convey this message.

The schools and universities that have mushroomed all over the urban areas, although opening doors to the masses, provide no quality education (getting marks and grades is not the same thing as getting education and learning).

Books are a man's best friend. And facebook has replaced it. Reading a book is the most tedious of entertaintment. It asks the reader to indulge and get involved. It demands your time and thought. And if its a race between time versus information, 'the tv box' wins.

Since the Musharraf era, we have also seen a boom of television media. This has been in my opinion one of the best and only real sources of information transaction. But a criticism to note is that when the masses are not properly educated, what the media feeds is what the masses ingest. They lack the capability to digest it.

The links of the machine have been looted, or rusted or broken. Will there by any new strong links? Will the journey make that decision or will we make that decision before the start of the journey?

I read this joke last night ....
*Lots of groaning laughter*
See what you make of it.

Pakistanis in Heaven and Hell :)

The angel Gabriel came to the Lord and said ‘I have to talk to you. We have some Pakistanis up here in heaven and they are causing problems. They’re swinging on the pearly gates, my horn is missing, they are wearing Dolce and Gabana saris instead of their white robes, they are riding Mercedes and BMW’s instead of the chariots, and they’re selling their halos to people for discount prices. They refuse to keep the stairway to Heaven clear, since they keep crouching down midway eating samosas and drinking chai. Some of them are even walking around with just one wing!’

The Lord said, ‘Pakistanis are Pakistanis. Heaven is home to all my children. If you want to know about real problems, give Satan a call, in Hell.

Satan answered the phone, ‘Hello? Hold on a minute.’ Satan returned to the phone, ‘OK I’m back. What can I do for you?’ Gabriel replied, ‘I just wanted to know what kind of problems you’re having down there.’ Satan says, ‘Hold on again. I need to check on something.’ After about 5 minutes Satan returns to the phone and said, ‘I’m back. Now what was the question?’ Gabriel said, ‘What kind of problems are you having down there?’ Satan says, ‘Man I don’t believe this…….Hold on.’ This time Satan was gone at least 15 minutes. He returned and said, ‘I’m sorry Gabriel, I can’t talk right now.

These Pakistanis have put out the fire and are trying to install air conditioning! !