I wonder

I wonder if everything related to you exists for another, parallel reason of a perpendicular philosophy than the one I've convinced myself to think on the lines of.

I wonder if your perfection is directly proportional to my ability to see outside the box of 'you'.

I wonder if maybe... just maybe... my idealization of you, branches from the mere reason that I've never opened my eyes to anyone or anything else outside your world where I reside and wait for you when you're not around.

I wonder if someday I will be the box that someone will find themselves not being able to see, think, act and love outside of.

):

*grumble*grumble*

I'm fat, ugly and demotivated. That's all I am.

De... moti-waited... :/ Yes, I'm lame too. Do you have a problem with that?

I wish that I was a 'tez-larki'... I wish that I could perfect the art of the 'cold stare' that shuts people up when they are rattling on about one (often more) of your incompetencies infront of the entire world. I wish I could do the icy gaze my friends are so good at... the one that says 'I may be a useless ball of accumulating fat (ew)... but you're a dead useless ball of accumulated fat if you so much as say a word hereafter'...

I wish that when someone was annoying the hell out of me by constantly yacking on and on and on and on about all the happinesses in their life, and causing puffs of silent, invisible smoke to escape my rather large ears, I could say 'Please shut up. Can you not see that I have a gazillion not-necessarily-better, but definitely more-interestingly-dull things to do with my life at this point in time?'...

I just half-heartedly took an online IQ Test to raise my spirits slightly, and it turns out that I'm some kind of a 'Word Warrior' with an IQ that is on average, higher than 80 to 90% of everyone else that's ever taken the test. I wonder where the eff that wordy warriorness goes, when I'm being screamed at by Banshees Unanimous. Instead I become 'Meek Mousy'.

The most disappointing factor in this whole scenario is that this, is the first problem I've ever come across in my entire 22 years... that can not be solved (even partially) by chocolate.

*sigh*

Tagged

I am thinking about...
Running away

I said...
Something unintelligible under my breath that could pass off as a *mumble*mumble*

I want to...
Fly. Breathe underwater. Get thinner

I wish...
to be able to look myself in the mirror and tell myself and God, I am sorry for every sin I've committed... when I'm not

I miss...
PFB and my childhood

I hear...
Voices in my head

I wonder...
Too much, and know too little

I regret...
Getting too attached to anyone I've ever loved that doesn't love me anymore. Well no, not really. I regret not learning a little more than I have from everything I've been a part of

I am...
A classic idiot. By dictionary definition.

I dance...
To every beat that chances to touch my eardrums

I sing...
Uninvited and Wonderwall. I can sing, pretty much anything and everything. I'm glad no one knows it though

I cry...
myself to sleep too many nights, unnecessarily

I am not always...
as motivating for myself as I am for other people when it comes to thinking clearly and taking smart decisions

I write...
Exactly the way I think

I confuse...
Every single person I know (myself included)

I need...
A lot of attention. Acceptance. Mystery. Madness.

I should try...
Everything atleast once in my life

I finish...
an unhealthy amount of chocolate every day (: *yum*


Okay... people I want to tag........ Xeb, Unaiza, Ozair and Rooj (: Whoever has the time and patience ;)

Jeej / Uss Ki Yaad Mein

woh ik pagal si larki thi
khuaab they usskey barey barey
din bhar woh sapnay bunti thi
rung o khushboo sey bharey huey
umeed ka dia jala ker woh
aanch per uss ki jalti thi
uss ki shamma key dhalney per
shaam uss ki bhi dhalti thi

woh ik masoom si larki thi
barishoon mein nahati thi
per badaloon key garajney per
thori woh dar si jati thi
woh ik nadaan si larki thi
khuahishoon sey ghabrati thi
sachai ka daman tham key woh
jhoot uss key nibhati thi

ab sochoon to yaad buhat ati hai
iss soch mein shaam dhal jati hai hai
kioon usko na jan saka koi
kioon usko kisi ney na dekha

un hathoon ki bayrang mehndi mein
kitnay they wadey basay huey
un hontoon ki uss khamosh larzish mein
kitnay they raz chuipay huay
un ankhoon key behtay kajal mein
kitnay sapnay they samey huey

woh ik pagal si larki thi.........

The most delicious feeling in the world has to be when someone does something for you that renders all arguments of 'I'm not important enough' utterly false. When you thought only you were capable of doing all things 'genuine' and special for someone else because that's been the order for every year preceding this one. Thank you (:

Romance?

When I was younger, the conceptual definition of 'romance' for me was all about being in the presence of someone who was enticing, in a situation of close proximity with my heart beating all over the place. Someone whom I would look at and a shiver would run up my spine and stars would pour out of my eyes like in the cartoons. I thought 'romance' was something that involved that feeling of butterflies in my tummy right before I met or when I looked into the eyes of someone special (or just a hot guy I'd been eyeing). It was that moment... that 'moment' when everything in the world would just fall into place (or fade into nonexistence) and everything would lose importance over the mere feeling of being in that space and time with that person or thing or place - whichever happened to be the subject of desire at the time.

Little has changed, I'm afraid. But just a while ago, I discovered a new meaning for romance. Romance isn't about men for women and women for men. Romance really has little and sometimes absolutely nothing to do with the opposite gender! I see it everywhere. Hell yeah. Everywhere.

This cliched romance is in dreaming about running off to England to do a Masters, and meeting all kinds of new (and old) people. Romance is in dreaming of a special hug I want to give someone I'll meet there. Romance is in the freedom I dream of. Romance is in the novel I read, in the movie I saw. Romance is in lying in bed and thinking beautiful thoughts about a job I'll have one day that'll pay me thrice what I'm being paid now! Romance is in the walls and in my glow-in-the-dark-star-covered ceiling! Romance is conjuring up the wildest of philosophies about the most pointless of things and conveying them to someone who's really, really interested - someone who will love me for the very wackiness of my thinking abilities!

Romance is even in wanting to commit the darkest, most beautiful of sins... and having a conscience too big to allow one to go through with it at the last minute. Romance is in goodbyes, romance is in rejections. Romance is in tears and romance is in uncontrollable, cheek-aching laughter that only some can relate to and fewer can share with me.

Overuse of the word 'romance', people. I'm ditzy. Could I be in love?

A love affair with life. Hmmm.
Now that is one affair I'll never feel guilty about saying 'yes' to...

Indulge ;)

Random Psychobabble

Another 3:30 a.m. with no signs of sleep and no will to call up a random friend and talk about nothing in particular. Reaching under the bed for a pen, (pens do have a habit of rolling into the unlikeliest of places in the middle of the morning, don't they?) she wonders if the hour of being able to write anything that makes sense has long passed by. Wincing as her hand traces the outline of a stray dustball, her fingers touch the cold, metallic spiral of a ragged-edged.. what is it?.. a paperback it seems. Hooking her finger into the end of the spiral, she pulls it out with careful precision for fear that there will be mucky dirt and crawling spiders tracing their way over her knuckles by the time it reaches eye-level. A surprisingly bright pink notebook makes it's way out with her finger. It has a blue, glittery flower on it and the word 'Journal' printed under a thin film of dust.

'Uh oh,' she thinks. 'Never thought I'd see you again,' she says out loud in a bitter tone, scrunching up her nose as if to brace herself from the stench of faded, old memories. Taking a deep breath, she gingerly raises the front cover to find a name of the present printed on the first page... ... A name that replaces the expression of disgust to a faint hint of a smile. She begins to read the notorious records of memories old and new, that had been stashed clumsily away under her bed during a bout of depression after which she solemnly vowed never to write in that blasted diary again. 'Well, I never said I wouldn't read it,' she ponders as she scans page after page.

Every page is written in an ink of a different color than the last. Every entry has a date and a time written on it and the hint of a thought runs through her mind as she wonders why all the entries are written after one in the morning. At the end of every day's episode, there is a name... the same name printed with the intricate self-designed logo on the front page of the journal... written in a different style, with a different form of art each time. Sometimes the name is joined to hers.

As she flips through page after page, the entries get shorter. 'As did my hope,' she thinks silently to herself. A tear escapes the corner of her left eye and falls as if preplanned, onto the word 'anniversary' printed in bold black letters on an entry dated '10th Feb, 2006 - 12:01 a.m.'. All of the pages written after that date seem to hold am ambience of melancholy and the tone turns from one of anger and scolding, to one of misery and silent pain. Every page holds the same complaint... the same plea for attention... and in every subsequent entry, it is evident that the plea remains unanswered.

Through the haze, she can see that the drops of fresh tears are doing nothing to damage the already tear-stained page filled with words of questioning disbelief and hurt written on her birthday. The pages turn blank soon after and she reaches for the phone to call the man who's name is ringing in her mind - the image of the name at the front of the journal flashing through her mind, reminding her of the hours of painstaking effort that went into designing every intricate detail of that journal. It was to be a gift. A gift of love. Every month she would think of handing it over to its rightful owner, and would hesitantly draw back from the thought and postpone it to the next. She fears it would not be valued. She fears it will be laughed at... or worse yet, ignored. Like she has been... what had seemed like a trivial reason for the heartfelt entries of sorrow in her journal, has somehow over the course of time, become the reason for prolonged pain and a distance that can now, never be crossed between the two.

Replacing the notebook in its place of rest and lying back against her bed with the lights out, she wipes the last tear from her eye. She can't help taking one last, prolonged look at her cell phone to see if maybe she has missed a call. There is no call; but still a question of 'What if...?' lurks in a corner of her heart. 'Maybe tomorrow,' she murmurs under her breath, as a disturbed, restless sleep finally takes over her at 5 a.m. replacing her disturbed thoughts with deafening dreams, drowning out the sorrow in her heart with one of a higher degree...

She awakens in the morning, with a heavy heart and reaches for the phone.

'Wound, Stain, Rinse, Repeat' is the schedule of the day... every day.

Dance with me baybee

I haven't blogged in years, it seems.

My life is full of the kind of happiness only Maltesers, Mc Donald's, sunshine, good friends, a pay that fulfills (even exceeds) my requirements of buying gifts for everyone I love all month, lots of new and interesting music, and of course; lots of lurve - can bring!

The more I get, the more I want..

Human nature is quite a bitch, you know. Blame her, not me.. ;)

Soul, where art thou?

I seem to have lost my conscience.

If anyone happens to come across it in a neighborhood trashcan, hiding behind a tree, or lurking around somewhere amongst the shadows of time, don't send it back to me - it doesn't belong to or with me. Keep it. It's a good one.

Conscience = lacking
Empathy = negative
Religion = very little / none

Are you there?

High, high, higher

Phooey

I'm scared of the prospect of marriage.

I'm dubious of anybody being able to tolerate me for the rest of their lives while retaining their sanity. I'm curious to know if I'm really interesting enough to keep my hubby amused and interested until he's reached an age where he won't stray.

I'm worried of being on the other end of this story :P

-----

Someone understands me.

Hence proven

Shani

'Please don’t let any Fashion Guru define your wardrobes' -- okay and so, we should let you define our wardrobes instead?

I wrote a post about the short-shirt phenomenon in my own blog. I commented on how the male species of the population have serious staring issues. Why should we not 'go public' with what we wear? Why should men's staring habits cause us to dress excessively and yes, hideously to hide every curve... when at the end of the day, you men will hunt them out with your spying eyes anyway? Why should women not wear what they want to wear only because the men of Pakistan violate them with their looks... whether they wear long, short or NO shirts(regardless of whether its because of a fashion guru, or a trend, or simple comfort)?

If I like my bottom in a short short shirt and a big big shalwar... I shouldn't have to justify it to ANY man in the world. Have you ever heard or of seen women stare the knickers off a man simply because of what he was wearing???? We see teenage wannabe boys standing around all the time with their jeans falling off their behinds and their boxers showing most obscenely from everywhere. Has it ever made a difference to us? Never. Have we ever commented? Never. Have we even cared? Never. Men do not cease to flash the flesh (and the body parts) in teeny tiny shorts and itty bitty sleevelesses, sickeningly tight pants, obscenely baggy ones and WHAT not.

But to this day, I have never in my life GAWKED at one until he felt like digging a hole in the ground and burying himself in it to save himself from 'undressing' eyes.... nor have I ever bothered myself with a second look at the details of his clothing, the pleats, the size of his bottom or the unnervingly bare, hairy legs, arms and flashing other things (unless I have an attractive interest in the man and he's making ME look bad)! I might not like it, I might not appreciate it, I may not find it to be 'all that' and I may not want to be caught dead seen with a man dressed so hideously..... but hey! He ain't dressing up for me OR for anyone else.... and even if he is, it's none of my concern. His clothes aren't important enough to give them even a second glance, much less a second thought. You want to push opinions on a woman's clothing.... you do it once you're married to her, if and when she allows you to pass the judgement. No random woman / friend / acquaintance / stranger is going to appreciate your pervy looks.... much less your uncalled for suggestions on what fashion to follow and what not to follow. Some women dress a certain way to follow trends, some to defy them... and others simply don't care.

What ANY random person wears is none of my business, nor do I wish to make it mine. I could not care less. It would be REALLY nice if you could share the same respect for a woman's clothing and her right to love the way her bottom looks in any clothing she may choose to complement it!!!

Phew!

One love?

Do you think it's possible that we only fall in love only once? - A question posed by Xeb that made me pause for a moment and think.

Luv shmuv. A lifetime is a long long time, and I think everyone falls in and out of love a hundred and one times during it! Honestly, I sometimes have trouble deciding if I've never been in love at all, or if I've been in love every single time. I end up getting myself so emotionally attached to things and people that it's hard to figure out whether love exists at all or if it's just all over the place. Hey, what can I say... I'm a very loving person?!! I've been in love every time. Every single time, whether it was a friend, a pet, an acquaintance, an object or a boy.

Anyone who says they've never been in love with anyone or that they've only fallen in love once (when put in terms of the notoriously phenomenal boy-girl relationship), is quite frankly, either lying through their teeth... or is just trapped in a maze of eternal denial.

Either love doesn't exist at ALL (which would explain why it happens so many times)... or it just isn't as unique and 'one'ly as its cliched to be.

Budday hues

Lows:

Forgotten birthday promises. Broken hearts. Shattered expectations.
Sinking feelings. My best friend. Concinving myself he's gone for good.
Salty tears of sweet pain. Praying to no avail. Watching the sun rise through a veil of bitter tears.

Highs:

High resolve. Unexpected phone calls. Coffee mousse cake. New friends. Fan. Love.
Bittersweet heartache. Feeling emotionally moved. Looking good, feeling gorgeous. Meaningful looks. Special messages. Chinese food. Loving looks. Raindrops where the rain don't pour. Sunshine under the moon. Smiles. Tinkling laughter. Hugs. Kisses. More hugs. Confessions. Apologies.

Budday Buddhi

Happy budday too meee. Happy buddayyyy toooo meeee!

Birthdays contain the best ingredients for self-actualization. You end up being hit with one too many realizations on how important you are in some people's lives, how unimportant you are in others', who your real friends are, who is just pretending.... and ofcourse (the best for last), you get to play with people's patience by talking endlessly, being crazy-annoying, throwing tantrums, etcetera just to test the threshold of patience that people who love you (or don't) are capable (or incapable) of maintaining on your birthday. *insert evil laughter*

Yesterday was the best birthday of my entire life (minus the ten or so initial ones that I can't seem to remember anything about, save a yellow-doll coconut cake that a random Aunt once made for me on my seventh budday... yum). A lot of nostalgia kicked in when friends old and new called to say happy birthday.... some that I had not remembered the existence of even (mean me). My wittle twin babies called to say happy budday and to express their regrets for not being able to show up on time ('we're too far haala!'). *Contented sigh*

I got a prank call at 5:30 in the morning. I like to think I knew who it was, and it made my day.

Ow

Food poisoning......... :(

Ow

*Phew*

So the interview's done and over with. Self-criticizingly speaking... I'd give myself about a 6 out of 10. I'm hoping the Pete-something who conducted the interview was ranking me on a smaller scale.... like say out of 6 maybe

Hey... a girl can hope, can't she? :/

And here's a request for more prayers please. I know I'm putting too much into this... effort and hope..... but bear with me please.

Role reversal

Regret was to be your epitaph
As triumph was to be mine

Returned lost life, instead your wrath
Mine, solitude divine

:: I wish I had as much control over my life as I do over my words. Blah.

APC

Powered by Castpost

Okay, I just had to put this one up after all the comments I received for the first song I put up here. An old favorite... the just-can't-get-them-out-of-my-head type that resides on the top of my 'Mind-Fuck' playlist and shall forever remain there.

A Perfect Circle - Passive

Dead as dead can be
The doctor tells me
But I just can't believe him
Ever the optimistic one
I'm sure of your ability
To become my perfect enemy

Wake up and face me
Don't play dead 'cause maybe
Someday I will walk away and say
You disappoint me
Maybe you're better off this way

Leaning over you here
Cold and catatonic
I catch a brief reflection
Of what you could and might have been
It's your right and your ability
To become my perfect enemy

Wake up (Why can’t you?)
And face me(Come on now)
Don't play dead (Don’t play dead)
'Cause maybe(‘Cause maybe)
Someday (Someday) I will walk away and say
You disappoint me
Maybe your better off this way

Maybe your better off this way (x3)
Your better off this (x2)
Maybe your better off...

Wake up (Why can’t you?)
And face me(Come on now)
Don't play dead (Don’t play dead)
'Cause maybe(‘Cause maybe)
Someday (Someday) I will walk away and say
You fucking disappoint me
Maybe your better off this WAY!

Go ahead and play dead (GO!)
I know that you can hear this (GO!)
Go ahead and play dead (GO!)
Why can't you turn and face me? (WAKE UP!)
Why can't you turn and face me? (WAKE UP!)
Why can't you turn and face me? (WAKE UP!)
Why can't you turn and face me? (YEAH!)

You fucking disappoint me

Passive-aggressive bullshit...

Defining 'me'

Bovine

Main Entry: bo·vine / me
Pronunciation: 'bO-"vIn, -"vEn
Function: adjective

1 : of, relating to, or resembling bovines and especially the ox or cow
2 : having qualities (as placidity or dullness) characteristic of oxen or cows

Arooj Aftab - Mera Pyar

Powered by Castpost

Although I'm the biggest fan of the original, I have to admit - this one really rocked. It's a funkier, more upbeat, less melodramatic version of its original. I may very well be the last person in Pakiland (and elsewhere) to have heard this, but I felt I should share it with those of you who have the time (and appropriate connectivity) to trust my taste in music . The lyrics are the original's....

Amir Zaki - Mera Pyar

Mera... tumhara
Wo ghar... Humara

Toota hai bikhra hai
Jaisay sitaara

Meri awaz sun lay na
Meri geethon mein tum
Wo alfaaz chun lay na
Jo ho jathay hain gum

Mera pyar tumhi ho
Tumhi tho ho... jaana
Meray saath tumhi ho
Tumhi tho ho
Bhula na
Mera pyar tumhi ho

Waaday... Iraaday
Kaisay.... Bhula dain

Toota hai jo dil
Wo ro-ay rula day

Meri awaz sun lay na
Meray geethon mein tum
Wo alfaaz chun lay na
Jo ho jathay hain gum

Mera pyar tumhi ho
Tumhi tho ho... jaana
Meray saath tumhi ho
Tumhi tho ho
Bhula na

A satirist is a man who discovers unpleasant things about himself and then says them about other people.

- Peter McArthur

P.S. I don't know about the world, but this city sure seems to be full of 'em darn satirists. *grumble*

Prayers needed

Another normal sa day. Been down in the dumps lately and feeling all on the edge and like there's no tomorrow (or that I wouldn't like there to be one). But I got the best news I've gotten in monthsssssss last night in my inboxxx... turns out I have a phone interview for this training program I applied for in my companyyyyy where if I get selected, they send me off to Amsterdam for a year on (get this) on-the-job paidddd traininggg and then also hire me when I come back on a permanent basis - atleast until I screw up and they're forced to fire me! WooHOoOoOooo (((: Not really getting my hopes too high about it, but I'd have to be pretty stupid to NOT get selected considering that I'm one of well.... just about the only (minus 1 person) person in the some-500 that may have applied for this program throughout the country, that actually works for the same company and has a huge edge over all the other much-smarter, but way-unluckier people! Note: I say I'm lucky (and not just plain awesome) cause I've studied from a not-so-great-or-recognized university and the only people applying for this thing so far are people from top unis like LUMS, Fast, NUST, GIKI... you get my drift? So it had to be poor luck that got stuck bailing me out of no-future-land by giving me this chance.

Blog, bloggers, bloggees... be prepared. I will know by the end of May. And as my boss said.... 'If you make it to the interview, that's your own personal achievement, it shows that your hard work over the years and your intelligence got you that far.... but if you don't make it PAST the interview, that would be entirely your own fault (insert hidden message: cause you'd be a dumbass if you still didn't know enough about this company to be able to impress its employees with your knowledge, you idiot).' Hmmmmmmmmmmmm, but whatever happens, come hail, sleet or snow (did I get that right?) you shall be the first to know! After hysterical me ofcourse (be it hysterical with khushi or with tears... only time - and common sense - will tell)

But yeah, I know one thing for sure.

If I don't get selected... I'm not telling him :P

*Hums Alanis Morissette's 'Hand in my Pocket' and dances away into cyberspace*

Memo me

Remind me of how much I hate you. I seem to have forgotten.

Again.

?

Brain-freeze, heart-freeze, body-freeze, sab-freeze.

*Chorus of sighs rises from crowd of tortured reej-blog-readers*

I heard that. Hmpf.

I fear I'm fast approaching the limit of my own personal perseverance. I'm fast approaching the moment of truth and I get the feeling I won't like it. I'm rocketing head-on towards a world I don't want to enter, where there is no 'you' or 'us' or 'we'. Only me.

I'm afraid of solitude. I don't want to be this alone. I don't want to say goodbye..

Most of all, I don't want to not feel a single thing if I do.

Stop the world, I want to get off!.... :(

Kabhi jo tumein meri yaad aye
To kuch ashaar meri yaad mei likh daina
Par kabhi na kisi say kuch kehna...
Agar kabhi koi tum say mera poochlay
To hans kar usko taal daina.
Agar ho sakay to meray khat jala daina
Meray unn phoolon ko jheelon mein baha daina
Kabhi jo tumhe meri yaad aye
Tho takiyay mein chhup kar aansoo bahaa laina
Phir mujhay yaad karke muskuraa daina...
Meri khubsoorat tasveeron ko
Dil ke naqshon say mita daina
Aur unhein phaar kar kaheen jala daina...
Par kabhi na kisi say mera zikr karna.

Kabhi jo tumhein meri yaad aaye
Tho ek khwaab samajh kar bhula daina...

If I knew

If I knew it would be the last time
That I'd see you fall asleep
I would tuck you in more tightly
And pray the Lord, your soul to keep

If I knew it would be the last time
That I see you walk out the door
I would give you a hug and a kiss
And call you back for one more

If I knew it would be the last time
I'd hear your voice lifted up in praise,
I would video tape each action and word
So I could play them back day after day

If I knew it would be the last time
I could spare and extra minute or two
To stop and say 'I love you'
Instead of assuming you KNOW I do

If I knew it would be the last time
i would be there to share your day,
Well I'm sure you'll have so many more
So I can let just this one slip away...

For surely there's always tomorrow
To make up for an oversight,
And we always get a second chance
To make everything just right

There will always be another day
To say our 'I love you's
And certainly there's another chance
To say our 'Anything I can do?'s...

But just in case I might be wrong
And today is all I get
I'd like to say how much I love you
And I hope we never forget

Tomorrow is not promised to anyone
Young or old Alike
And today may be the last chance you get
To hold your loved one tight.

So if you're waiting for tomorrow
Why not do it today?
For if tomorrow never comes
You'll surely regret the day...

That you didn't take that extra time
For a smile, a hug or a kiss
And you were too busy to grant someone
What turned out to be their one last wish

So hold your loved ones close today
And whisper in their ear
That you love them very much
And you'll always hold them dear

Take time to say
'I'm sorry', 'Please forgive me', 'Thank you' or 'It's okay'
And if tomorrow never comes
You'll have no regrets about today

*Ignore the sappiness and think about it*

With all due respect

I will tolerate every tantrum, put up with every nakhra, pacify every narazgi, cater to every desire for attention, exercise the show of importance and its likes, succumb to the belief of every half-witted whim you've ever mustered from your beautiful head....

But pride, I will not fall prey to.

I need not / can not / will not put up with it any longer.

So yeah... you can stuff it up your backside now.

Sorry men

Every day I wake up with a groan, proceed to unconsciously tap the 'snooze' button on my phone 3 times at 5-minute intervals and then drag myself out of bed and get dressed with my eyes half open and my mind half shut into the tiniest of tiny shirts and the biggest of big shalwars.

Every day before I reach the breakfast table, I am greeted by a disapproving look from my mother that clearly says, 'tumhari kameezain bohot choti hoti jaa rahi hain larki' before she utters the dreaded words from her mouth.

Every day I argue that every girl wears what I wear and nobody thinks it's weird but mother dearest.

Every day I walk through the huge main gate of the building my office is in... (along with more than 500 others).

Every day I am greeted by a welcoming party of about thirty men (married, single, bi, homo, metro, selfo sexual) eyeing every inch of me as if they had been praying for a woman to 'finally' enter that place and I had been the miracle God sent down to bless their eyes with (even though one just did about 10 seconds ago... but they've forgotten her already haven't they? Or maybe moved her to some remote corner of their brains from where they will extract her later on for further scrutiny and unimaginably-disturbing fantasizing).

Every day it takes me about a minute and thirty seconds to get through the door and through the scanner-thingee that checks to see if I have explosives on me and every day I heave a sigh of relief as I enter.

Every day I am struck by the realization that I sighed too soon, as I am further sub-greeted by a flock of random men of all professions (guards, gunmen, clerks, receptionists, waiters, yes.. even plant-waterers) turning to look my way as if they had been deprived of feminine beauty (?) for too long to have borne it any longer.

Every day I make a dash for the third floor, not even wanting to imagine the third category of men that may be awaiting my arrival at the elevators.

Every day I enter my office, wondering if my mother could have been right.

Today I woke up with a groan, proceeded to unconcsciously tap the 'snooze' button on my phone 3 times at 5-minute intervals, dragged myself out of bed and got dressed with my eyes half open and my mind half shut into the longest of long shirts and (as usual) the biggest of big shalwars.

Before I reached the breakfast table, I caught an approving look on my mother's face saying 'shukar hai, thori akal ayee'... before her mouth has time to utter it.

The rest was the same. Blah.

Men.

Baybeh baybeh

Happpppppy buddayyyyyyyy Bloggy babyyyyyyy! :))))))

I wuv jUuuuuuuuu!

Yahoooo Samsunggg

The great thing about the Samsung D500, is that when you hang up on someone, it really sounds like you've hung up on him / her... either that, or it sounds as if you've given them a good, resounding slap.

Great effect, great results :D Woohooo

Chai

Work-tea is very distinctively distinct from home-tea. I wonder why... :/

AND it always tastes better.

*Grin*

Eye-roll dilemma

Sometimes, walking through life contentedly in a state of perpetual bliss, when everything around you seems so right, and everything good seems to just flow towards you as if God had suddenly struck a realization that you deserved far better than the hard times He'd so often caused to rain upon you, you are hit by the disturbing realization that at the end of the day... at the end of that perfect day.........

Life is still shit.

Ungratefulness... tooo innfinityyyyyy... aaaand beyoOooooooooond *fading away*

Wtf?

Your True Love Is a Scorpio

Why you'll love a Scorpio: Strong and sexy, Scorpio will overpower you into falling in love (before you even realize it!). You'll love being swept away by Scorpio - into a world of insane passion. Why a Scorpio will love you: You don't mind letting your Scorpio take the reigns, as long as you know you're truly cared for. Loyal and devoted, you would never do anything to set off insanely jealous Scorpio.

What Sign Is Your True Love?

Inspired by Sincater.

Well, whaddo you know.... if it isn't another irony in the life of me. Life is shit sometimes. Some people will know exactly what I mean.

Dilemma

So what do you do when you get hired by the company of your dreams....... but not for the job of your dreams?

:/

Ugh.

Curry n rice

For those of you with DSL, this is a must watch. Thanks Ali for the post... Sorry I'm copying it, but it's just too funny hahahaha. Ainjoyee..

The wisdom-tooth blues

Pray for me world. Dentist's appointment scheduled for tomorrow to remove an impected wisdom tooth coming at another tooth to kill it :( Pray that I have the courage to cope with the terror of having my gums ripped open, bones cut up and an itsy bitsy tooth that I can't even see pulled out mercilessly. That too, by my own sister.... *tragic pose*
This looks so much like me, it's not even funny. But I do have a nose (for those of you who are a part of my friends' list on orkut). It may not look like it in more than one places, but I DO have a nose. Which is more than I will be able to say about a tooth tomorrow *sigh*

Slap in the face

Someone once confessed to me:

Person: "Reeji.... ummm... Can I tell you something?"
Me: "Haan sure, kya hua?"
Person: "You type so fast, that by the time I open your window on MSN you've left me so far behind that I can't even scroll. That's why sometimes, you think I'm ignoring you... *sheepish laugh*"
Me: "..."
Person: "So I don't really ignore you.... it's just that most of the time I'm not really reading what you're saying"
Me: "Oh..."


*SIGH*

I fear we've lost that special spark

courtesy... exploding dog

*Yawn*

You know you're bored when...

- Music sounds better than it's ever sounded before... even the kind you wouldn't want to be caught dead listening to
- Taking a shower seems like an escape from the barred hells of wherever it is you're at
- You (being the most uninterested-in-feminine-indulgences), find yourself painting your nails, straightening your hair and cleansing your face every 2 hours and actually enjoying it
- The drowsiness just doesn't end... even after 12 hours of having been in the deepest of slumbers
- You scroll through the phonebook of your cell phone to find people who might just reply when you message them
- You've memorized each crack in your ceiling and know the precise distance between each glow in the dark star you've stuck up there down to a nanometer
- You look over your CV atleast once every day to remind yourself of your usefulness (in theoretical terms)
- People call you up to arrange spur-of-the-moment meetings with you only because they know that the probability of you being the only (and the first) one to show up is very, very high
- Orkut becomes the only place you're able to socialize with old friends
- You can still think of a million more properties of extremely bored individuals with nothing better to do in their lives than to be sitting here making this list in the first place

I could go on forever. I swear.
*tragic pose*

Another loved one on my playlist

And when I see you, I really see you upside down
But my brain knows better, it picks you up and turns you around
Turns you around, turns you around

If you feel discouraged when there's a lack of color here
Please don't worry lover, it's really bursting at the seams
From absorbing everything... the spectrum's A to Z.

(Aaahhhh... ahhh...)

This is fact not fiction for the first time in years
All the girls in every girlie magazine can't make me feel any less alone,
I'm reaching for the phone to call at 7:03 and on your machine,
I slur a plea for you to come home.
But I know it's too late, and I should have given you a reason to stay
Given you a reason to stay;
Given you a reason to stay;
Given you a reason to stay

This is fact not fiction for the first time in years

- Death Cab for Cutie - A Lack of Color

Losing my Religion

Life is bigger
It's bigger than you
And you are not me
The lengths that I will go to
The distance in your eyes

Oh no I've said too much
I set it up

That's me in the corner
That's me in the spotlight
Losing my religion
Trying to keep up with you
And I don't know if I can do it

Oh no I've said too much
I haven't said enough

I thought that I heard you laughing
I thought that I heard you sing
I think I thought I saw you try

Every whisper
Of every waking hour I'm
Choosing my confessions
Trying to keep an eye on you
Like a hurt lost and blinded fool

Oh no I've said too much
I set it up

Consider this
The hint of the century
Consider this
The slip that brought me
To my knees failed
What if all these fantasies
Come flailing around
Now I've said too much

I thought that I heard you laughing
I thought that I heard you sing
I think I thought I saw you try

But that was just a dream
That was just a dream

- REM - Losing my Religion

Why are you leaving me now?

courtesy exploding dog

Bitch

Men are the biggest bitches of all time.

What forces me to write about the members of the opposite sex in this context is a scenario that recently took place between 2 friends, a boy and a girl... B and G respectively. B liked G and had been asking her out for a couple of years but since B and G were the best of friends and G was not interested in making the relationship 'evolve' in any way, G was insistent upon remaining friends. However, over the due course of time G also developed feelings for B - but was dubious of B's long term commitment status as B was known to walk out in the most awkard of situations when G needed him the most. In the mean time, while this whole confusion of feelings and actions took place, B developed an insane possessiveness over G where he would sit outside her house at night in his car, stalk her wherever she chanced to go, call her 2 zillion times a day to ensure she was not on the phone with another boy and other such insane gestures. This also resulted in foul language, and even at times the desire to raise a hand and hit G from the B-arena. For the longest time G tried to outweigh the good in their relationship with the bad until a point came where there simply was no good left and all that was left was swearing, slapping and accusations of the highest degree that no girl could possibly take. After a thunderous encounter with one another, G's friends stepped in and took a stand for her which resulted in nothing but a messy situation that neither B nor G had anticipated, nor asked for. Although it was neither B's nor G's fault that other friends got involved, before they knew it... it became impossible for them to talk anymore because nobody wanted them to talk anymore... neither B's friends nor G's!

After that extremely lengthy description of the entire situation, G remained quiet. She knew that her friends had caused the messy situation B and G were drowning in. B also knew the same thing, but since B was a boy... he did what all boys do in a situation like this where their ego is being hurt by a girl. B began telling lies, editting important portions out of his 'story' and passing it among friends, friends of friends, friends of friends of friends and so on... B, being of the male species... took revenge for the ego-bruises by inviting all kinds of criticism by other fellow boys about G. And ofcourse, when given an open invitation, his boy friends began to get the importance that boys SO love and all of a sudden everyone had their 2 cents worth of advice and 'INSIGHT' to give on G and G's character and G's past and G's boyfriends and the boys G had supposedly made out with. Everyone had something to say........ 'Humnay tho pehlay hee kaha tha ke woh aisee hai'... 'We tried to warn u but you were so blind in her lust!'...

Oh please people. As much as it may hurt to know.... what is none of your business... will at the end of all these ramblings and bullshitting and lying and 'contributing', still remain none of your business. I know it hurts... but deal with it. Just because B gave you the license to bitch about the only girl he ever loved but who unintentionally stomped all over his ego by having friends who cared about her, really doesn't give you the official license to become her boyfriends, her friends, her maker-outers, and what-nots just for the sake of getting your word into the conversation and gaining some very-temporary importance. And the boy-gets-rejected-and-starts-bitching-about-the-girl scene is just so old and cliched. Get over it. She didn't like u... she chose B over you because he was a better person, a person more worthy of her feelings. And for those of you wellwishing 'warners' who tried soo soooo hard to keep B away from G right from the start.... well, guess what? You failed, and its time you realized that and moved on to your next victim... G2.

If you were really as great friends of B's as you think you are and try to be, well maybe it's time you opened your eyes to the fact that he ain't happy without her! No matter how much you bitch about her, no matter how many lies you tell him to help him move on and become one of the male-sluts you all are, no matter how many stories from the past you dig up (some true, most made-up), at the end of the day he still loves her! And it isn't sad that you can't see that.... it's pitiful and downright pathetic. Maybe next time you make up one more bitchy lie about G, you should pause for a moment and ask B what he really feels. Maybe asking him won't get him to tell you the truth... but if you're really the friends you claim to be.... you'll see it in his eyes anyway.

Maybe then you can move on to your next target. Change the prey. This one's taken. And he'd be happy about it too if you didn't exist to make him feel like shit a million times a day. Stop making him think he can't go back cause maybe that's just what he wants to do but the fear of humiliation amongst his asshole-ic friends isn't letting him.

The sands of time

I know I've been blogging a little too much lately. I guess it all comes with the whole just-graduated-and-extremely-farigh scenario that happens when uni is finally over. You find yourself wondering why you were in such a hurry to complete your degree in the first place cause you sure as hell didn't study your butt off all these years just to sit at home all day, sleep, or bicker over home politics all the time... right blog? Right reej...

I've never in my life felt so insanely cold before. I never thought the word cold could be synonymous with the person that I am, the person I've always been. But ever since the loss of feeling I mentioned somewhere in my blog a couple of months ago... I think my emotion-meter has gone several readings below normal, and quite unsteadily too at that. There was a time when every itty bitty teensy weensy little issue I was minutely affected by would get to me immediately and I would begin to over-analyze. And when I over-analyze, I don't do it very quietly mind you... I make sure the people involved in this emotional 'trauma' (since every little thing was really a trauma for me) really know what I'm feeling. Subconsciously, I even hint at the ways in which they can make things better and undo the hurt they've caused me. Sometimes, when subconscious hinting doesn't seem to have any affect (which it usually doesn't, since many people out there are far dumber than myself which I didn't think was humanly possible!), I even break down and sometimes blatantly just SAY what I want the other person to do to make me feel better (as pathetic as it may sound, and probably be too... that is the way I am with loved ones - so sue me).

But for some strange reason, the predicament of my emotionmeter-needle has changed. Either its jammed in one place and needs a good oiling, or its just raised its standards to somewhere wayyy beyond the boundaries of the skies, because nothing effing affects it anymore! I'm not saying I don't feel things or I don't get hurt. I do.

See, there's a thin line between pain inflicted by someone who has done something to wrong you, and the pain inflicted by someone who has not realized that he/she has erred (or the pain inflicted by someone who doesn't care enough to undo the damage) which takes the hurt several notches higher than that in the first scenario. That thin line is also known as an apology... or a maker-upper. Is that where it ends? No... that's just the beginning. The really big complication occurs when the time factor enters the scene. It's like 2 people have started walking away from one another and the clock is ticking.... while you're still within the boundaries of the unstated time limit and the realization hits you that you've hurt the other person beyond words and you actually do something about it, there is hope of reconciliation, forgiveness and other such peace-regaining actions.

However... if you cross the boundaries of that time limit.... time just slips away and you never get the chance to apologize again. And even if you do, it doesn't carry the same affect it would have had you said it within the predetermined time range given to you by fate.

It's like that line from 'My Best Friend's Wedding'... When you love someone... when you really, really love someone... you say it right then. Just say it. Otherwise the moment just... passes you by.

The moment has passed you by. I hope for my sake more than yours, that I can forgive you again this time and be the same me I was with you before.

Tagged - Finally

I zabardasti had myself tagged by acro.
I had been tag-deprived for too long so I decided to just ask to be tagged once and for all instead of prolonging the wait for my blog-existence to be acknowledged by some bhala-insaan. Here goes...

UNIQUE
1. Nervous habits - Playing with my nose and eyebrows... Clenching my jaw hehe
2. Are you double jointed - Hain? What's double-jointed? :// Is there a guide to this thing?
3. Can you roll your tongue - Sadly, no... but I have tried unsuccessfully many a time in my childhood
4. Can you raise one eyebrow at a time - I can raise only one (: I can waggle it too yaay
5. Can you blow spit bubbles - I don't want to try this one :(
6. Can you cross your eyes - :D I can cross my eyes and then proceed to move each eye sideways while remaining cross-eyed. Beat that...
7. Tattoos - Hadh'a Haraam ;)
8. Piercings - Definitely
9. Do you make your bed daily - I do actually... is this a trick question? Will i be labelled geeky? :/

CLOTHES
10. Which shoe goes on first? - Whichever foot volunteers first
11. Speaking of shoes, have you ever thrown one at anyone - (:
12. On the average, how much money do you carry - ummmm 500 to 700 rs?
13. What jewelry do you wear 24/7 - My teeny tiny, dangerous-spike wala, extra special diamond pendant
14. Favorite piece of clothing - A newly acquired poncho

FOOD
15. Do you twirl your spaghetti or cut it - Those who cut spaghetti should stick to pizza. They are doing injustice to spaghetti cult of twist and slurp.
16. Have you ever eaten Spam - Huh?
17. Do you use extra salt on your food - Almost always
18. How many cereals in your cabinet - Half a box? :/
19. What's your favorite beverage - FOJ
20. What's your favorite fast food restaurant/chain - Mc Donald's... haiiii
21. Do you cook - Very occasionally. But I can.... promise!!

GROOMING
22. How often do you brush your teeth - Once (: But no cavities... so hah.
23. Hair drying method - Towel, *shake*shake*, sometimes followed by a straightener
24. Have you ever colored/highlighted your hair - Yes, purple *proud smile*

MANNERS
25. Do you ever swear - Occasionally, as required
26. Do you ever spit - No, blekh

FAVORITE
27. Animal - 'Andhera' hahaha sorry... I love cats too
28. Food - Authentic Arabian... and Chinese. Yum yum *slurp*
29. Month - January
30. Day - Saturday
31. Cartoon - 'Andhera' again... Jimmy Neutronnnn
32. Shoe brand - Anything comfortable and sesky enough chalay ga
33. Subject in school - Marketing courses were always my favorite
34. Color - Blue, turquoise
35. Sport - Talking should officially be declared a sport
36. TV shows - Friends... House Invaders?
37. Thing to do in the spring - Enjoy the weather... it won't get better till the next year
38. Thing to do in the summer - Hibernate
39. Thing to do in the fall - Watch the leaves go all booteeful
40. Thing to do in winter - Sit beside a heater all day long in multiple layers of clothing
41. In the CD player - A selection of my faves
42. Person you talk most on the phone with - hmmm, no one anymore
43. Reading - deep, philosophical stuff. I like the Da Vinci Code... the Alchemist, etc.
44. Do you regularly check yourself out in store windows/mirrors - Ofcourse. I'm a girl... I have a license to do that :D
45. What color is your bedroom - one turquoise wall... and everything's coordinated turquoise and pastel green
46. Do you use an alarm clock - I use my cell phone - the snooze button is quite useful
47. Window seat or isle - Window

DUMB
48. What's your sleeping position - Anywhere I may chance to turn while sleeping
49. In hot weather do you use a blanket - Yup
50. Do you snore - I don't think so
51. Do you sleepwalk - No
52. Do you talk in your sleep - Sometimes... :/ Eek
53. Do you sleep with stuffed animals - Nope...
54. How about with the light on - I could if I'm tired enough... but I'd probably wake up cussing at the lights glaring in my face
55. Do you fall asleep with the tv or radio on - I could... its a possibility
56. Last interesting person you met - Timna... the receptionist at my recently acquired (and resigned) job ;)

And soooo... at the end of this extremely long but interesting tag-session... I would like to tag the following people:

- Andhera (if he can be bothered)
- Woozie
- Xeb
- Rooj (A Shadow I Call Me)
- Keeyan
- Phitaymaun
- Mahi (Estranged) when she comes back from Karachi

If any of these people still visit my blog... which I don't think they do so often *sigh*sigh*... I'd appreciate a tag-response puhleez... ;)