the 14th has come .....

i wrote this on the 14th of June, but due to some TECHNICAL difficulties could not post it here. :)

The fourteenth of the month. A date that never fails to show up and also, never fails to get the better off me. I get reminded, on every 14^th, of all the fourteenths past. The one on which we first talked ever over the phone. The one which is my birthday. The one on which we met for the first time. The one which is your birthday. The ones we used to celebrate every month. And the one on which you left me. And the ones on which I tried winning you back again. The one that was yours. The one that was mine. The one that was ours. The one that broke our worlds apart. All of them.

This 14^th of June I turned 24. It was my first birthday when you weren’t the first one to call. In fact, on this birthday, no one called. J

I really miss my mom. And my dad. And my brothers.

Its too far away here.

IMMORTAL LEGENDS

I am going to explain to you folks, what immortal legends are. This post was going to be something different but then realization hit like a motherfucker. Its not true what they say about us. We don’t have rock hard bodies. We don’t have cold stone hearts. We don’t like being uncomfortable. And we most certainly don’t enjoy being lonesome, all the time. This might sound senseless, and honestly, it is, but ill still try to make some sense out of this all. Just hang in there.

Ill tell you a story. Our subject is a boy. He is just 8. He likes school, he likes sports. He loves cartoons, he hates girls. He doesn’t cry being subjected to pain. But he can be caught tearing up at some emotional scene. He most certainly does, at patriotic songs. He has aspirations and he dreams too. Time moves on, he grows up. He makes it to high school now. Now high school is different. He likes girls, they fascinate him. A lot. But that is just normal. Most guys his age were fascinated by girls. Theres a girl now. And she is pretty. She knows it and she flaunts it too. Our boy, too scared to talk to her, never does. And that’s about it. But hes seen guys his age having girlfriends. Pretty girls his age, talking to them, flirting with them. And he thinks, it must be so fucking nice, to be a boyfriend. How ultimately awesome would it be to call some girl his “bachi” in front of his classmates. But I guess a school year is only as long.

The kid, all his life, was taught about MORALS. He was taught about being upright. About being brave. How to succeed, how to accomplish. He wasn’t taught about how to just be a human. But instead, how to win and never lose. Now the funny thing about that is, you never are a winner in the truest sense. No prize was ever satiating enough and maybe that’s why we are humans. He was brought up to be a patriot and he believed in dying for a cause. He held on to it and joined the military.

He soon was made responsible. He had men under his direct command. Men that he had to look after like children. Men that would give their life for him, if he were to lead them. Men with only but hope. And then one day, out of nowhere, he thought about what all had happened.

People his age, of his caliber, were out there. Liberal souls, free thinking minds, elated visionaries. But he is just a fauji with just an average perspective. Call him a one track mind if you must. Its not his fault you know, he has seen a very rough time at the academy. Mental torture of the highest grade. He doesn’t think about it much, after all he volunteered for it. His mind is one track, his life is one track. And when he’s 23, he dies. Terrorist attack at his unit, he dies protecting his honor and that of the green flag. The oath that he took, the salutes that he receives. He just dies protecting his one track way of life. Fuck that. Ill give you people a piece of my mind now. National heroes ? fuck that, to you people were just a bunch of posers in uniform. A nation who spits gunk that hurts worse than a kick on the balls. Yeah, that’s what we are guarding. A country which has lost its identity. You Americanized bunch of motherfuckers. You and your fucking parties. Your night outs. Your stay overs. Your weed and your beer. Your mixed gatherings. Your nonchalance. Your girlfriends. Your universities. Your ideas and your ideologies. FUCK YOU. Yeah, that’s right, FUCK YOU .

Dress up in green and paint your girls cheeks with watercolors all you want. You are not a fucking patriot. You will never be one. You hate this land and you loathe the people. You studied at a ritzy college just so that you can leave here. It sucks man. You will never die with honor. Youll die in a bed. Oh you will be surrounded by your loved ones. They will be praying, they will be comforting you. How tasteless a death would that be now. Oh, you will have to die that way. Of disease and of old age.

Not my breed. We will die a bad fucking painful death. But you know what ? itll be FULL of honor. Lieutenant Yasir Abbas Shaheed PN. Im sure you heard about it. Your girl mustve been sad that day. And im sure you cashed that with sympathy and hugs. He was not a son of man. He was an immortal. LION HEART. Destined to be glorious. 14 bullets, dead center in the chest. And he says, “don’t tell my mama”. What kind of a person says that ? What substance is he made of?? That is the substance, HEROES are made of.

I’m 300 miles away from home. Haven’t seen my family in 20 days now. Left without seeing their faces. I want to go out to get a bite some place ritzy. With a girl you know. I think I deserve that. Why, you ask ? Because you are not swinging 25degrees to and fro like a pendulum for the past 20 fucking days now. And its not like you haven’t slept a full night either. I would like a hot meal. At a restaurant with people. Good looking people. Maybe, a girl that could’ve been mine. A song I could’ve sung out for her. Sleep while dreaming. In a warm bed, with a soft linen bedspread.  I wish you could understand. I wish you could see what I see.

You need to straighten out. My people don’t run this country. You guys do. My people will protect it and die doing that. We have been doing it. You know it. Time is high. Too many people, are very far away from their homes, are dying every day, are hunger stricken, are fighting with the elements, have families they love, have dreams they want to chase, have high school crushes they would’ve fallen in love with, but they are doing what must be done. They are human just as much as you are. They are not stone cold, and they aren’t made of rock. Their life has worth and you just put it to shame when you don’t act up your part.

Stop fucking around. Respect the Armed Forces of Pakistan. They’ve bled for this land. Understand our sacrifice. Ehsan nahi hai, magar hum mohsin zaroor hain. Jaan dena ittna asaan nahi.

Dedicated to Lt Yasir Abbas Shaheed PN and the shuhada of PNS MEHRAN. You Sirs, are heroes. Immortal legends.

Rest in peace.   

Nostalgia For Idiots

It’s been a while since the last time I posted anything here. To be honest I was a bit scared, maybe like most things, I had lost at this too. It happens to people, and I am no exception either. Still a bit overwhelmed by things, I decided to actually go ahead and write something here. After all this has been the ears I’ve always waited for. I can pretty much write whatever comes to my mind, and mostly, no matter how stupid it is, I usually do.

Its weird when I think about it. Here I am, on a perfect day, at home, I should be the happiest most satisfied person on the face of this earth, yet I am not. It’s been four long years. Years that have trickled and years that have zoomed. I have been king at times, and I have been a jester too. I have lived and at times died too. I had often imagined about this day, this day that ends an era, and I always have envisioned it to be something real special. Out of this world. And it is too. 

When it was a week away, I had imagined it to be a day when ill party beyond limits. Go out, have multiple treats, invite everyone I know, everyone who doesn’t care about me and everyone who i don’t care about, yet I had planned to be out there, with them, partying the night away. It would be, after all, my big day. But as it came nearer, and nearer, something drew away the desire to go ape. I was steadily being covered in a blanket of nostalgia. Days of the past, when I had talked to people about tomorrow. Memories of the time when I had wanted tomorrow to come. Promises past that I had made to people, and they made to me. All came back to me. And being the average being that I am, I got a bit overwhelmed.

I remember talking to a friend, about an year ago, about how life would change after this day. How I would be better in control of things, and how differently adventurous it would be. And I’m pretty sure, it is too, but somehow, I feel like I have been driven on by a false hope. A false image of things has lured me to this point, where now I feel there’s no turning back, and yet I have to move forth lusting about the next level. Start imagining how different that would be, how happy that would make me. It seems, as if, life has been a liar ever since it started acting up. And even though, I have no option but to believe, I have doubts moving forward.

How the promises broke and how reality hit, I’ll never know. But a part of me still wanted her to be here today. I was never the expectant one, and never will be, but I know, if not a congratulations, deep down inside I wanted a mere “good luck". Something to say, ode to the time we've spent, ode to the life we've seen, the roads we've traveled and suns we've seen set. But i guess it wasn’t meant to be.

A part of me was nostalgic, and a part of me was scared of things to come.  How would I cope up, and how different would things be. Would I be as carefree or do I have to change myself. The added stripe would not matter if there is no added character, so I was troubled again, as to what improvement should I make. What should I cut out and what should I include more. All these trivial things kept bugging me throughout the past week. And the memories kept haunting me, of things we had planned on this day, the coming months and also the future years.

My grandfather, a veteran himself brought me a pair of new stripes. He had earned them in the true sense of the word. Twice been to war, and battled everyday life to reach such a status. His humble gift and request that “let these be the first ones on your shoulders” left me with a lot to think about and a tear in my eye.  It left me thinking and it left me overwhelmed.

I have a family that loves me. A gang of brothers that adore me. Friends that are joyous at my successes. I only have but to man up, and dive in. I have to go and find out why this made me the way I am today. I have to go and find out what happens next. I am happy no doubt; it reveals newer horizons to be discovered, opportunities to be grasped and heights to be scaled. I guess one way or the other I had to do this alone, and I had to get rid of the past.

I will miss the single gold on my shoulders, not because I don’t feel like moving on, but because I’ve had a special time with them on, a time of my life, a time with no involvement, a time I’ve seen alone. And I will love the double gold. I will work into them. Be what they dictate me to be, command what needs to be commanded.

I will, not just be another idiot, with nostalgia today; I will be ready to climb another step tomorrow.

The last nail, is the hardest to hammer in ...

The alarm went off. Precisely at the time I had set it to. I hadnt slept well, and it was as if I was waiting for it to go off. In a robotic motion, I switched it off. The liberty to snooze wasnt  there, as I was in someone elses bed. The night was cold. On this 30th of December, I had no expectations of such a night, of such a surprise, yet my unpredictability had taken over.

I cannot actually distinguish between the two warms. The one my host had provided me with, and the one this thick razai was giving. I was too comfortable for my own good, and this warmth was a bit too good to leave. I swiped the covers off. Instantly, I got hit by a cold blanket. My host came in, asked me for breakfast. I politely refused, not wanting to exhaust his hospitality, even though there was no chance of that happening. Washed my face with cold water, dressed up to cater for the cold. and left.....

He insisted on dropping me, since it was raining. I agreed, my conscience told me not to, yet the icy cold rain compelled me to. I got inside his car. The heating turned on as soon as it reached the temperature. I was shivering, but the hot air from the vents begged me to stop. I did. After driving around through the drenched Rawalpindi, we reached my destination. I did not know the way, but I knew how to get there. I didnt exactly know what I was doing there, but I knew what had to happen.

I exited the car, thanked him for his generosity. Made way to the building. Now that I have gone through this 30th day of  December, I know what phase of the day it exactly was. At that time I thought it was just normal, but now it seems as if the undertaker was placing the nail, at the right spot. the last nail, in this coffin, to seal the dead, the departed. He was placing it to perfection, not wanting to miss the spot, not wanting to insert it in the wrong place, not wanting it to be half fixed. He wanted it to go in deep, fix itself hard and stay there for times to come. He wanted to hammer in the last nail in the coffin with the perfection it demanded.

I asked for where I wanted to go. The receptionist said second floor. I proceeded. Walking like a lost man, which is ironic since I was a lost man, I reached second floor. I called, I had asked, and confirmed, that I shall call in the morning, you must simply answer. The phone was picked up, without much thought. The first blow, on the nail.

The first thing that was inquired from me, was WHAT I was doing there ? Not how I was ? Not if im shivering because im cold, not about how I got wet, but WHAT I was doing there ? And to be honest, there was nothing wrong with it. I wouldnt have asked the same, but still I accepted it as it is, and replied, with a nothing.....

I was taken to the waiting room, was seated infront of a heater. Upon asking for a warm cup of some beverage, I was shown the direction to the canteen. :) . I left to get tea, I could feel my innards writhing in cold. I misjudged the hospitality and returned to the waiting lounge, when I was expected to leave. I sat there for another one hour. Some texts were exchanged. Then I was asked to leave. Politely yet sternly. You should LEAVE.

I looked outside at the rain, it had picked up. The rain doesnt bother me, I thought. Neither does the cold weather. What actually chilled my guts was the icy cold radiated from my host. I felt cold. Ive been drenched before, doesnt scare me. But all I fucking wanted was a half hearted, "you can stay till the rain stops". I looked at the face. Nope. It was straight. It was fucking cold. Murderous. Now in such a situation, it is difficult to decide on your own. Wouldve been easier had I been told to FUCK OFF. But that wouldve been too straight. I was told to leave. And leave I did.

The first few drops of that icy poison hit my face with a fury less known. The instant chill made me want to go back in, regardless of the fucked up state of affairs. Yet, to keep face, which wasnt much left, I went on. Kept walking. The nail was banged further deep. It was the last few blows. The sealing of the dealing. I walked hard, did not expect anything. Did not want anything.

For fifteen minutes the rain showered on my head, in below zero temperature. I could not find a fucking taxi. A guy pulled over, a yellow taxi guy. He mustve thought I was lost or something. He was spot on. I was amazed at how in a place with such a cold and heartless fucking demeanor, a person dwells with warm heart. Bhaijaan thand lag jaway ge, ander bai jao. I did what he said.

Then he drove off........ into the rainy nothingness.

This was the last nail in the coffin. This is how it was struck in to place. This is how it is on this 30th of December.

And who gets the blame ? ...

Fresh out of college. Young. Youthful. Inexperienced. Immature. Curious. Not enough adjectives can define what we were, on that 17th day of July 2005. Oh we were scared alright. We were scared of what happens next. The 72 of us. But we did not let one percent of that emotion, on our faces. We thought we were men, and men arent scared. To be honest, we really werent that scared of the future. We were scared of tears. Tears that might just start dripping. We could not let that happen. We did not let that happen.

Its been five years now. Thats a lot of time. Out of the 72, some have been victim to the system. The rest of us, we are still here. Throughout this time, we have lived together. We know what we are made of. What defines us. We know each others likes. We know each others choices. Much like brothers, to be fair. We have seen each other cry and we have seen each other be joyous. We have seen each others as brothers. We have lived together, like brothers.

After all this time, I dont blame anyone at all. The distances that have been etched, are as much as fault mine as theirs. They have loved me their full share, and I have tried to do the same. Magar hamara qasoor nahe hai na. Hum bachay gaye thay, bilkul bachay. What ever moralities of the outside world we know, we were taught in the outside world. No preparatory lectures, no field exercises. Direct experience.

Who gets the blame ? 

We dont belong to flashy groups of friends. What little friends we had, are mere obligations now. We are each others friends now. Very rarely we regret not knowing the norms of friendship. As how the culture prevails. We mess up. We fall. Because we were programmed for one purpose and one purpose only. And we serve that purpose and we feel honored to be doing it. This is the only cover up we have, the only hope that drives us.

After all being said and done. Given the opportunity to go back in time. I would not change ONE thing about this life. The lessons that have been taught by this brotherhood, are ones unknown by many.

To 05-A.

To all 5 of you...

Heh. To ALL five of my valued FOLLOWERS. 


                                  I wont be posting anything. For at least a week now. My internet USB wants to be fed with 1200Rs worth of cards. And right now, if I BUY 1200Rs worth of cards, Id rather eat them myself. :) Any how, as a thought, Ill leave you to this song.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W10igWYKi-k


                                  Stay in shades of blue. Till the next time. 

                                 

The air has changed.....

Yes !  The air definitely has changed. Change can be good or bad. But that depends on how you perceive it. What angle are you looking from. What picture you paint of it. Its good if you can bend around it. Its better if you can bend with it. 


Change can be of different variables. Sometimes it happens that things change, and you dont even notice it. Until you come to that moment when you realize, that SHIT, things have changed. And then you can either accept it, or try to undo it. Either ways it is there to stay. And acceptance is the only thoroughfare.


I have experienced a lot of change throughout this year. Ive been in places I never wanted to be in. Ive gone through phases, previously thought of as impossible. It has given me a lot to write about, and a lot more to think about. 


This year started with exams. I was at the hiatus of falling in love, so yeah, didnt care about them. Life was okay. The changes were accepted. Mostly because I had made them myself. I liked the changes, they didnt bother me. The extra puff of that perfume, the extra shopping of new clothes. The new songs I'd figure out tabs of, the new confidence I had in me. It was change and I had made it. I had made it and I thought that its permanent. The hard part is when it comes undone. How to undo the PERMANENT changes..... ? What to revert back to ? How to revert back ..... ? You are pretty much left out on a limb. Cant figure out anything..... and you are just stuck out there.....


The first irregularity I woke up to, was a medical practitioner administering a catheter. TO ME. For those of you who dont actually know, what THAT is, its a device, that .... uhh..... helps disabled people, pee in their beds, without wetting themselves. And YES, its THAT painful. The pain broke up my 7 hour unconsciousness  and WHAT a way to do it. I woke up screaming, covered in blood, tasting sand in my mouth, coughing out dirt, not feeling most of my body, feeling TORTUROUS pain where i could FEEL anything. Now this was a change hard to down. I was sleeping in the back seat of a friends car, and woke up 7 hours later at a hospital. I thank Allah mian, day in and out, that His Kindness was the reason im still here.... 


It was a change from what I had made life of. It was hard to accept. It difficult to not to be able to sit up straight or walk or eat from your mouth...... but then you adapt. You find ways to make it convenient. Because you accept its reality. You accept the change.


One day you find the changes that you've made, have been undone by some other person. They could not have OR maybe they could have prevented it from changing SO abruptly, but shit in your life has changed on someone else's discretion. And they dont seem to give a rats ass about what happens to you. Whether you accept the change or be defeated by it. And they stop caring, JUST like that. That is how change comes undone. That is EXACTLY how it happens. And this is exactly why you should be ready enough, and you should be rolling with the punches. I got socked in the eye. Apparently, I cant be a good boxer. :)


Time heals everything. Time and timely events. Slowly , the regenerative animals that we are, we start regenerating the life before we changed. So in essence , we are changing the CHANGE, by breaking its little tiny pieces and throwing them away. And that is how you heal. You bleed, you clot, you remove the clot. Good as new. Its slow, it takes time. Necessary time. 


What about when you actually manage to come to the first peg ? Well, mostly you cant undo the change completely. Some parts of the change stick forever, just to keep reminding you where youve been. What you did, what you didnt. Its just check and balance. It keeps you in check and balances the oddities. 


And then it happens. The air changes. You can feel the air change. Taste it on your palate. See it form around you. The air starts to change, and compels you to come with it. It can be a new pet, a new friend. Old friends, older pets. It can be anything. It can be coffee in the winter, It can be acting silly on text messages. It can be lassi, on a hot day. It can be Table Tennis on a rainy day. It can be a new interest, or the lack of it. It can be color. Red or a pale fading red. It can be from A and it can be from Z. It can be pretty much anything. But it exists. It shows your ability to accept whatever happens. To come beyond whatever happens. It shows you being human. It shows hope.


Change is inevitable. Acceptance is not. You have to learn to accept. Denial will only get you so far.


For me, the air has changed people. It has definitely changed......