Blatant secrets

Sunday, March 18, 2007

Thank you Mr. President

We are very grateful to President Mussharaf for sacking chief justice and once again reminding us that we- people of third world country with high illiteracy and poverty rate cannot afford the luxuary of justice and democracy. Thankyou mushi uncle nothing is clean there then why should we have the pretensions ? Law and order ? What a joke. Lets rip all the emblems of justice and give it out to the spoiled kids so that they can make planes of it and drag it in the mud.
Pakistan zindabad!!military paindahbad!!

http://hrw.org/english/docs/2007/03/13/pakist15475.htm

If I sew my lips, clog my ears and seal my eyes and promise to live in this blindness forever;would I be a patriot then?

Monday, July 17, 2006

Wistful Longings

For so long ive looked for the meaning
in my own mumblings
listened to the walls ' unsaid utterances
so many times faked ecstasy
truth , lie ,lie, truth
unsure of the reality
Do I or don't
Iam doubtful of my own feelings
Wish could go back and erase it all
and rewrite my life all over again
Wish could repeat all the first times
could undo the done yet taste
the freshness of the original sin
could think the unadultrated thought
could laugh that sincere laugh
Only if i knew from the start
as you open the package
the newness is lost
I would have never pried
the matters sealed tight
I would have not tried to know
what's behind the close doors
Only that way probably
you can keep the spanking
By not knowing the unknown
by dying in infancy

Friday, July 14, 2006

A Toast to Self!!!!
As I rushed out on the lonely dark road I felt my soul liberated yet I was scared of the freedom or of the wilderness in me that wanted to jump out and become one with the scene. I'm scared the wild beast in me will show in the full moon, which have taken years to tame. I shivered at the possibilities of what I could do to myself and what could be done to me. God I felt so lonely, what is this unquenchable thirst in me, that leaves me so empty and incomplete. I've cried so many times on my worthlessness ......... felt like a torn piece of trash ......Someone's effort been wasted away. I felt like a worthless coward a complete vain, a wastage of time, money and emotions, as I drank the half bottle of phenergan and thought about the possibility of death. I hate myself, even in planning death I lacked devotion-damn ADHD.

Remember If you walk away towards a dark isolated road, and when you look back there is no one to call you back then my friend you are surely alone and completely on your own.

Thursday, June 22, 2006

A LEGAL ALIEN
Only those who have lived a few years abroad and then fly back home can probably relate to my feelings as a sleep walker. Its not always an easy trip to fly over the geographical boundaries while you are burdened with two different social and emotional ties. I haven't lived that long a time in foreign lands to claim alienation from my own people, still enough time to develop a relationship with the land that stretched its arm for almost a complete stranger. It is like having split personality or living two different lives.

It may sound melodramatic but its true, especially when you are an Asian and live in the very south of America where all you can see is white. Its funny that in one part of world you are fair and in other dark without the help of any makeup what so ever. One thing that is common about the two places is that you are stared at for same yet different reasons. When people in Lahore stare at you its out of habit but in south you are stared at because people are usually trying to figure out your species. At public places and especially at your son's school you feel like a very visible dark speck on the recently washed white laundry. You stand out, despite your petite structure, in the crowd like the giant among the Lilliputian and as soon as you open your mouth all the heads turn to listen to you or you imagine them turn. You learn to sympathize with caged animals from far off lands because now you can relate to them. You are a living entertainment for people especially for the kids that would bet on your back that you are Spanish, a few bold ones would ask where is Pakistan,smarter ones would ask you to speak in your language "real fast"(still confusing you as Spanish) and more knowledgeable ones will announce that "oh yeah I know who are Moslems they are the ones who love to kill Christians".

Every day you pass through the curious scrutinizing eyes pretending that they are not looking at you. Yes, you are embarrassed, embarrassed because you cannot blend into the crowd, embarrassed because you don't know how to fill gas into your car , embarrassed because you can't always swipe your credit card right,embarrassed of your 2-year old's tantrums. You are so embarrassed that you imagine hearing things like "hey third world creature what are you doing here" though no body moves a lip. On the contrary, people display utmost patience even with that little devil of yours. That is why despite all that embarrassment you share a strange bond with those curious blue eyes. In a way you are grateful to them, for their effort to know you, to understand you, for laying down the first brick of relationship. You wish you could communicate your feelings of gratitude for all those people who hold the doors for you, who help you find the way when you are lost, help u fill the gas or swipe a card and even those who smile at you assuring you that though you are a stranger but are welcome here.

Its only when you are lost in the routine ; when you have learnt how to fill the gas and swipe your all sort of cards, when you have equipped yourself with all the intelligent answers regarding your lineage, religion and race. There comes the time to pay a visit to home, to unlearn what you have learnt so far. Then again starts a series of exasperations like you have to remind yourself to stay on the left while driving,to change the gears every now and then, not to hit the wipers when need to use indicators. All this and your son's constant demands for the American food makes you wonder you are stranger where, and yet whenever you get a chance you try to rush back home as if pulled by some force. Its weird but you love both the places- your homeland and your son's. Its just that the only place you are at the moment seem as reality and other a dream, so you tread on the streets where you were born and raised with the feelings of deja vu and nostalgia and come to terms with the reality that you have traded your entity for the permanent status of a "guest".