Archive | September, 2011

Another Traffic-Light Stranger

28 Sep

Who says you can’t fall in love again once your heart has been played with? You fall in love everyday.

I often fascinate about how I come across so many people everyday, whom I will most probably never meet again. These strangers might not mean anything to us, but sometimes they leave their mark on our lives; they make us realize that the world is not as shallow as the image of it we have in our minds.

On my last day of 11th grade, in early 2010, me and a friend were waiting outside Quaid-e-Azam Complex (Hyderabad) for my friend’s driver, who was to pick us from there an hour back.

I remember how we always took a long path back home, how we cracked jokes with soldiers inside the Cantonment, how we talked about the same topics every single day and still did not get tired, how we bought drinks from a grocery store in the Cantonment instead of buying them from our school’s canteen, and how we once left our drinks inside a refrigerator at an army check-post.

Anyway, while both of us waited for the driver, we came across a cop. He started conversing to us in a friendly manner. He then wrote something on his palm and asked us its meaning. We couldn’t figure it out. Now I neither remember the text nor its meaning, but he told us that it was Dutch. An ordinary Pakistani cop who knew Dutch!

Shut up! Do I look like I know Dutch?

Shut up! Do I look like I know Dutch?

Earlier this year, during our last days of 12th grade classes, we had a 25-minute conversation with a teacher (who taught our juniors) after the Physics class, which was the last class of the day.

“What’s the use of your life when your purpose is to only have a bunch of grandchildren before you die?”

Even though my participation in the talk was hardly noticeable, but it left a big mark on my mentality. He also asserted that he was going to be the next big thing after Dr. Abdul Qadeer Khan. (Don’t judge me. I still haven’t decided whether I like AQ Khan or not.) So if you ever see a Hyderabadi scientist on TV, you know who he is. (Though I’m not too sure if he really is going to be the next big thing.)

And then there are people we never get to speak to. We only see them for a few seconds and off we head to our respective destinations. I refer to them as ‘traffic-light strangers’. I can’t speak for the rest of the humanity, but I imagine a thousand different scenarios during these few seconds.

“Dear God! That girl is pretty. *imagines getting married to her* *imagines dating her* *imagines talking to her about literature* *imagines going to her place for a rishta* *imagines her getting out of her car and getting into mine* *imagines having dinner at her house with her parents* Okay stop it, dude. Green light in 5 seconds. 5 – 4 – 3 – 2 – 1. *pushes the accelerator and releases the clutch* Next traffic-signal in about 500 meters…”

Dreams That Awaken

24 Sep

Yesterday, around 5 o’clock in the morning, I woke up from a shockingly disturbing dream. It was so disturbing, in fact, that if I ever faced such a situation in reality, committing suicide would be on top of my priority list.

The dream — a nightmare, rather — introduced me to two factors I would have never figured in any other way.

  • Dreams are not to be underestimated.
  • Sometimes, reality can be shocking enough to make you kill yourself at once, without any second thoughts.
Am I strong enough?

Am I strong enough?

I usually discard dreams as mere renditions of what goes on inside a human brain, and undoubtedly, it’s mostly true that dreams never directly affect a person’s thought-process. But since yesterday morning, I have been having glimpses, flashbacks of the dream that are constantly causing stress. I look at myself as a person who doesn’t react instantly to any consequence, but after watching the dream, I have realized that a tremendously horrific situation can even cause me to scream in dismay, and jump from the top of a building without working out the outcome of it.

Suicide is another thing that I have always related to weak individuals who are immediately responsive to the situations they face. I have never considered suicide as a solution of my problems, but the dream made me realize that showing indifference to something that puts you down is not always possible. That imaginary line we draw is only imaginary after all.

To conclude, I am extremely thankful for this dream, because in case I ever face a situation similar to what I faced in the dream, I would know what to do (that is, not to commit suicide).

Car Washing Mysteries

20 Sep

Birds are the prettiest species on this planet, but behind every glittery thing, there is a drawback hidden somewhere. Until I was thirteen, I was never told to grab a bucket of water and go downstairs to wash the car. We always had a decent garage where we parked our car (and my bicycle and archived a thousand useless things), where it was safe from all the worldly disasters; one of the disasters being the birds.

PLEASE GOD! NO!

PLEASE GOD! NO!

When we moved out of that place, we unfortunately didn’t have a covered garage any longer. All the world’s dust and bird-poop victimized our car, and since that day, the poor thing has been heartbroken. Of course, we do have a parachute car cover but none of us can kill the laziness and actually put the cover to some use. It’s too bad that the nature has not been kind either.

The first time I was told to wash the car, I thought it would be as easy as taking a shower, but even after years of hard work, I’m still a failure at it. During this period, I learned to drive the car and to pass it through the narrowest of the streets and to overtake enormously overloaded trucks and to break stop lights, but I never learned to wash the god damned thing.

An enormously overloaded Pakistani truck.

An enormously overloaded Pakistani truck.

Anyway, I’ve mentioned below the procedure I follow in order to wash my car (and I fail 60% of the time). People tell me to get it washed from professional car washers but I would rather spend that money on food.

Ingredients:

  • Abundant supply of tomato ketchup.
  • A medium-sized bucket full of water.
  • A tiny bucket for convenience.
  • A few pieces of dry cloth.
  • A cellphone (preferrably a Blackberry to check messages from, time to time, in order to look cool in front of neighbours who, from their windows, are recording a video of you looking like a filthy Edward Cullen washing a car covered with what looks like bird-poop).
  • An annoying neighbour (to correct your car-washing mistakes).

Procedure:

  • Drink half gallon of tomato ketchup to warm yourself up for the task.
Jesus! Calm down, old guy! I was kidding.

Jesus! Calm down, old guy! I was kidding.

  • Tell your mom that you’re a hero and that you’ll come back alive.
  • Walk to your car along with all the prescribed ingredients (leave for the last one).
  • Stop, turn around, take one last look at your house, and start marching to your destination again.
  • Take a piece of dry cloth and get rid of all the dust that has covered your car.
  • Discard that piece of cloth. Take a new one and start with cleaning all the windows with water.
  • After you have cleaned all the windows, check your phone for any new messages.
  • Look back at the windows. They’re all filthy again because the bird poop has been liquified because of water. The annoying neighbour is now standing beside the car with a “Is that how you wash your car?” look.
Your car makes me wanna puke (and other awesome feelings).

Your car makes me wanna puke (and other awesome feelings).

  • Ignore the attention-seeker and the filthy car windows. Wash the rest of the car with that same cloth; it doesn’t matter.
  • Dial an imaginary call to your imaginary girlfriend, telling her that you love her more than you love Manchester United, and that there is some idiot staring at you. Hang up.
  • Discard the poor cloth. Take a new one and clean all the windows again. Success! However, if the air is dusty, then you’re unlucky and can do nothing about the windows at all (that’s what mostly happens to me).

Now that you’re done, go shower because you smell like a garbage bin. Not that I usually smell like a garbage bin but I surely look nasty.

Talk About Career Uncertainty!

7 Sep

It won’t be wrong to say that I am the most confused individual on this planet. Why? Because it’s been months since I graduated high school and I’m still unsure what to do with my life. Even though I have always enjoyed studying technical subjects (i.e., the ones that include a lot of science and have a lot of research-potential), BUT it’s unfortunate that I (almost) always score low in these subjects. But there’s something inside of me that tells me every now and again, “Aadil, DO NOT waste your life taking up a major that won’t let you utilize your brain’s true potential.” And that’s when I tell myself that I am going to be an engineer.

Yes, if I were born in 70s, Burj Khalifa's design would have been much classier.

Yes, if I were born in 70s, Burj Khalifa's design would have been much classier.

BUT (apologies if there are too many BUTs in this blog post) having already failed an engineering university’s entrance test (and not applying for any other universities), I see myself letting an year go to waste and applying for engineering universities again next year, which is actually a very good plan since I don’t care if it’s the matter of only one year.

BUT it has always been my dream to study in LUMS (and not study engineering there). So now, part of me wants to go to LUMS.

Chicks dig guys who go to LUMS (but they've banned kissing in the campus now).

Chicks dig guys who go to LUMS (but they've banned kissing in the campus now).

In the meantime, I’m getting enrolled into CA classes to keep myself busy. Now let’s hope I don’t start taking interest in it, or I will never get to know what studying in a university feels like. Also, I need to prevent myself from turning pessimistic, as that won’t earn me any good fortune.

A little advice for the readers who are still in high school; make sure you have decided what you want to do with your life, or you’ll have to cope with frequent depression attacks like I am. Don’t run after the money. Choose the subjects you’re good at; a career you’re sure you’ll kick ass at.

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