4/28/09
Oh my God, I'm so bored! Haven't been this bored in a long time. No school anymore. No work yet. Life's stuck in a rut. All my skills getting rusted. I am not even sure if I have any left. I tried doing calligraphy with my left hand. I've washed a red shirt with a white one in hopes of turning it pink. It didn't work. I cleaned my pillow case and threw away all the candy wrappers from it. There is absolutely noting left to do. Now food's pissing me off.
I've lost focus. I need a nap.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
The Bus (2009)
2/17/09
I had to go to the mall today for some work. My original plan was to go with my rommate and her friend in her car. However, at the last minute, their plan got cancelled and I was stranded. Since my chore at the mall was urgent, I had no choice but to take public transport.
I hadn't taken the VTA bus (the local public bus system in San Jose) in a long time. Two years almost. I have many good and bad memories attached to it. But whether fun or a pain, taking the bus always means either waiting for a long time at the stop for it, or running after it because you've just missed it. Both are not fun.
So it was with a sense of depression that I stepped out of my apartment and started walking towards the bus stop in main downtown, which is a 5 minute walk away.
As soon as I reached the stop, it started raining. I took cover under a shade along with other people who were waiting for their respective buses, and saw time pass by as no bus showed up. At last, we saw a VTA operator walking towards us. He informed us that because of the bike race happening in downtown San Jose today, the road has been closed and we'll get our buses from the next stop, which was a block away.
So we all half walked half ran to the next stop, and the next shade. It had started to really pour by now. We waited for about 15 more minutes with no sign of our bus, #23. Then, another man in a crisp blue VTA uniform walked over and stood under the shade with us. We asked him about the bus and he said #23 was supposed to get there any minute, and he was the driver assigned to it from there on. So he was also waiting for it like the rest of us. He was over 6 feet tall, fat guy who looked like the clean shaven version of Santa Claus.
While we were still waiting, one of the passengers waiting a few feet away started yelling and cursing in frustration. Apparently, she (who looked like a 'he' and I had great trouble deciding on her gender.. still not sure though) had been directed to this bus stop from another one as well as her bus, #63, was also supposed to come to this stop instead of its usual one.
At first, everyone ignored her. Then the VTA driver called her over and they had a dialog:
What seems to be the problem?
Well, I have been told by that VTA guy over there that #63 is coming to this stop. I have been waiting for a long time. Where is it!
Why don't you take the light rail from here and get off two stations down and get #63 from there?
You really think I should be doing that?!
That's what I'd do. It's better than standing there and yelling at the rain like a moron.
Well I have been told that #63 will come here! Where is it!
Where are you going to?
San Carlos and Rice.
Well, why don't you get the #23 from here and get off at San Carlos and Rice. It also goes there.
Because I'm not going to exactly San Carlos and Rice.
Then why would you tell me you are?
I am asking you where the hell is #63!
Why don't you go back and start yelling at the rain?
Silence as she turned around and started walking back. A few feet down, she turned back.
Jackass!
With that, she started walking away. Another lady came to the driver and asked if #81 was also coming there. The driver turned to her with a smile.
Maybe. Who told you?
The VTA helpline. I called them.
Oh, they told you?
Yeah.
And you believed them?
Yeah.
Oh well, you shouldn't have..
By this time, the crazy lady came back yelling.
Where is the damn bus?!
The driver turned back to her with a smirk. She continued:
I have an appointment! You hear? I have an appointment at 2!
With a psychiatrist?
No!
A shame..
Well this is the last time they are having a bike race in this city! I got the car race stopped and now this is the last time they are having a bike race!
Oh it was you, huh?
Yes.
Other people, including me, at the bus stop started snickering at this.
You know what else you should get them to stop? asked the driver.
What?
People yelling downtown. Scaring other people.
I am so mad right now! What am I supposed to do until that bus shows up!
Sing.
Sing?! What the hell is wrong with your head?!
Hey listen. I am driving #23 from here. Why don't you just get on that one and I'll drop you off at the #63 stop. You can either do that, or stand here all day and bitch about it.
Why won't VTA put up signs if they are diverting buses!
Take #23.
I DON'T WANT 23!!
At this time, we saw #23 coming towards us in the distance. The crazy lady continued:
If I don't see #63 soon, I'm going to start a fight here!
At this, all us passengers started huddling up together as far away from her as possible. The #23 stopped in front of us and we quickly got on. So did the driver as the old driver got off. After everyone was seated, the driver called out the open door to the angry lady still standing at the bus stop.
Do you want to get on or not?
Should I trust you?
Well, I wouldn't. I am not a very trustworthy person.
Fuck you!
The driver closed off the door and we drove on.
:D
I had to go to the mall today for some work. My original plan was to go with my rommate and her friend in her car. However, at the last minute, their plan got cancelled and I was stranded. Since my chore at the mall was urgent, I had no choice but to take public transport.
I hadn't taken the VTA bus (the local public bus system in San Jose) in a long time. Two years almost. I have many good and bad memories attached to it. But whether fun or a pain, taking the bus always means either waiting for a long time at the stop for it, or running after it because you've just missed it. Both are not fun.
So it was with a sense of depression that I stepped out of my apartment and started walking towards the bus stop in main downtown, which is a 5 minute walk away.
As soon as I reached the stop, it started raining. I took cover under a shade along with other people who were waiting for their respective buses, and saw time pass by as no bus showed up. At last, we saw a VTA operator walking towards us. He informed us that because of the bike race happening in downtown San Jose today, the road has been closed and we'll get our buses from the next stop, which was a block away.
So we all half walked half ran to the next stop, and the next shade. It had started to really pour by now. We waited for about 15 more minutes with no sign of our bus, #23. Then, another man in a crisp blue VTA uniform walked over and stood under the shade with us. We asked him about the bus and he said #23 was supposed to get there any minute, and he was the driver assigned to it from there on. So he was also waiting for it like the rest of us. He was over 6 feet tall, fat guy who looked like the clean shaven version of Santa Claus.
While we were still waiting, one of the passengers waiting a few feet away started yelling and cursing in frustration. Apparently, she (who looked like a 'he' and I had great trouble deciding on her gender.. still not sure though) had been directed to this bus stop from another one as well as her bus, #63, was also supposed to come to this stop instead of its usual one.
At first, everyone ignored her. Then the VTA driver called her over and they had a dialog:
What seems to be the problem?
Well, I have been told by that VTA guy over there that #63 is coming to this stop. I have been waiting for a long time. Where is it!
Why don't you take the light rail from here and get off two stations down and get #63 from there?
You really think I should be doing that?!
That's what I'd do. It's better than standing there and yelling at the rain like a moron.
Well I have been told that #63 will come here! Where is it!
Where are you going to?
San Carlos and Rice.
Well, why don't you get the #23 from here and get off at San Carlos and Rice. It also goes there.
Because I'm not going to exactly San Carlos and Rice.
Then why would you tell me you are?
I am asking you where the hell is #63!
Why don't you go back and start yelling at the rain?
Silence as she turned around and started walking back. A few feet down, she turned back.
Jackass!
With that, she started walking away. Another lady came to the driver and asked if #81 was also coming there. The driver turned to her with a smile.
Maybe. Who told you?
The VTA helpline. I called them.
Oh, they told you?
Yeah.
And you believed them?
Yeah.
Oh well, you shouldn't have..
By this time, the crazy lady came back yelling.
Where is the damn bus?!
The driver turned back to her with a smirk. She continued:
I have an appointment! You hear? I have an appointment at 2!
With a psychiatrist?
No!
A shame..
Well this is the last time they are having a bike race in this city! I got the car race stopped and now this is the last time they are having a bike race!
Oh it was you, huh?
Yes.
Other people, including me, at the bus stop started snickering at this.
You know what else you should get them to stop? asked the driver.
What?
People yelling downtown. Scaring other people.
I am so mad right now! What am I supposed to do until that bus shows up!
Sing.
Sing?! What the hell is wrong with your head?!
Hey listen. I am driving #23 from here. Why don't you just get on that one and I'll drop you off at the #63 stop. You can either do that, or stand here all day and bitch about it.
Why won't VTA put up signs if they are diverting buses!
Take #23.
I DON'T WANT 23!!
At this time, we saw #23 coming towards us in the distance. The crazy lady continued:
If I don't see #63 soon, I'm going to start a fight here!
At this, all us passengers started huddling up together as far away from her as possible. The #23 stopped in front of us and we quickly got on. So did the driver as the old driver got off. After everyone was seated, the driver called out the open door to the angry lady still standing at the bus stop.
Do you want to get on or not?
Should I trust you?
Well, I wouldn't. I am not a very trustworthy person.
Fuck you!
The driver closed off the door and we drove on.
:D
Lost in Translation (2009)
I have a headache. There are two reasons for that. One is sitting outside in the living room and the other right in front of me right now in my room.
I have two loud roommates. Let me rephrase. I have two loud Gujarati roommates. One of them, the one I share my room with, is a very nice girl. We gel well together. But then she goes ahead and does something every night that makes me want to commit a murder or two. Every night, she talks with her mom back in India on Google Talk. And she is loud. Very loud. So I have no choice but to listen to the one way conversation in Gujarati.
The other one, who lives in the living room, has a voice tone that just grates on one's nerves. The kind that makes me want to bang my head on the wall until I pass out just so I don't have to listen to it anymore.
I can't even go out to escape this dual torture. It has been raining all week and, according to the forecast, will be raining next week too. So I just have to sit in the apartment, grind my teeth and listen to the constant barrage of 'aitlay, aitlay' and 'ae chhay, oh chhay' and what not.
There is no escape. :(
I have two loud roommates. Let me rephrase. I have two loud Gujarati roommates. One of them, the one I share my room with, is a very nice girl. We gel well together. But then she goes ahead and does something every night that makes me want to commit a murder or two. Every night, she talks with her mom back in India on Google Talk. And she is loud. Very loud. So I have no choice but to listen to the one way conversation in Gujarati.
The other one, who lives in the living room, has a voice tone that just grates on one's nerves. The kind that makes me want to bang my head on the wall until I pass out just so I don't have to listen to it anymore.
I can't even go out to escape this dual torture. It has been raining all week and, according to the forecast, will be raining next week too. So I just have to sit in the apartment, grind my teeth and listen to the constant barrage of 'aitlay, aitlay' and 'ae chhay, oh chhay' and what not.
There is no escape. :(
Depression (2009)
2/11/09
Depression is something that comes to me unannounced, and totally out of the blue. Catches me offguard. I get these bouts every now and then. It's funny because many times my life is a pile of shit where nothing goes right, but I still don't get depressed. And then, all of a sudden, it hits me hard when I least expect it - when things aren't exactly that bad.
I wonder if it all bottles up inside me. And then releases itself when it reaches a certain threshold. And then any little incident triggers it off.
But whatever the mechanics behind it, it is just pure evil when it strikes.
I don't feel like eating, talking, going out, watching movies, listening to music, even thinking. I just lie in one spot. And sulk. It's even more irritating when I don't know the exact reason for it. Normally, I am a very optimistic person. No matter what the problem or how big or small, if I know it, I always manage to avoid depression by busying myself in thinking up ways to solve it. But when I don't even know the reason, there remains very little to do about it. Which results in a lot of frustration.
I don't even know what triggered it this time, or how long it will last. But it's definitely arrived again - unannounced and unexpected like every time. Now everything looks like crap and I feel no humor even seeing my neighbor's funky red underwear in the laundry room (which I did a few hours ago). Not a laugh, or a smirk. Not even a slight smile, let alone a grin.
Man, I hate these times. I hope it gets over soon. I know the trail now. It will remain like this for a few days, then it will turn into anger and frustration. Then I'll probably lose my temper on someone. Then feel guilty, regret it and apologize. Then get yelled at by that person. And then slowly, within a day or two, be back to my normal self.
I can't wait to be yelled at. :(
Depression is something that comes to me unannounced, and totally out of the blue. Catches me offguard. I get these bouts every now and then. It's funny because many times my life is a pile of shit where nothing goes right, but I still don't get depressed. And then, all of a sudden, it hits me hard when I least expect it - when things aren't exactly that bad.
I wonder if it all bottles up inside me. And then releases itself when it reaches a certain threshold. And then any little incident triggers it off.
But whatever the mechanics behind it, it is just pure evil when it strikes.
I don't feel like eating, talking, going out, watching movies, listening to music, even thinking. I just lie in one spot. And sulk. It's even more irritating when I don't know the exact reason for it. Normally, I am a very optimistic person. No matter what the problem or how big or small, if I know it, I always manage to avoid depression by busying myself in thinking up ways to solve it. But when I don't even know the reason, there remains very little to do about it. Which results in a lot of frustration.
I don't even know what triggered it this time, or how long it will last. But it's definitely arrived again - unannounced and unexpected like every time. Now everything looks like crap and I feel no humor even seeing my neighbor's funky red underwear in the laundry room (which I did a few hours ago). Not a laugh, or a smirk. Not even a slight smile, let alone a grin.
Man, I hate these times. I hope it gets over soon. I know the trail now. It will remain like this for a few days, then it will turn into anger and frustration. Then I'll probably lose my temper on someone. Then feel guilty, regret it and apologize. Then get yelled at by that person. And then slowly, within a day or two, be back to my normal self.
I can't wait to be yelled at. :(
Mind vs Body (2009)
2/6/09
Been a while since I last made an entry here. The main reason being, there hasn't been much happening in my life. I seem to be on an auto pilot. Wake up, have breakfast, log into orkut, surf the web, apply for some jobs, have lunch, nap, listen to music, go out for a walk, have dinner, orkut, go to sleep. And the same all over when I wake up the next day.
The only thing that stood out was me gaining ownership of IRP community. A vibrant, diverse community which is a meeting place for many Pakistanis around the globe, and whose all urgent attention-needing issues arise at 3 am.
But things changed all of a sudden today. The slumber I've been in for so many days may as well be finally leaving me. I found out today that I need to be in Los Angeles this Monday. I also felt an urgent need to get my hair color retouched before leaving. That will have to happen this weekend. I also need to book my flight there and back and make travel arangements once in L.A. I also need to buy groceries as I have no food left in the apartment.
However, this sense of urgency is being fought vehemently by my lethargy and habitual procrastination. This battle has been going on in my head since morning, where my mind knows I have things to do but at the same time, my body refuses to move from its half sitting, half lying position, with my laptop resting firmly where it is meant to be - on my lap.
How I'll manage to get everything done before I leave is yet to be seen. It's going to be an interesting weekend.
Been a while since I last made an entry here. The main reason being, there hasn't been much happening in my life. I seem to be on an auto pilot. Wake up, have breakfast, log into orkut, surf the web, apply for some jobs, have lunch, nap, listen to music, go out for a walk, have dinner, orkut, go to sleep. And the same all over when I wake up the next day.
The only thing that stood out was me gaining ownership of IRP community. A vibrant, diverse community which is a meeting place for many Pakistanis around the globe, and whose all urgent attention-needing issues arise at 3 am.
But things changed all of a sudden today. The slumber I've been in for so many days may as well be finally leaving me. I found out today that I need to be in Los Angeles this Monday. I also felt an urgent need to get my hair color retouched before leaving. That will have to happen this weekend. I also need to book my flight there and back and make travel arangements once in L.A. I also need to buy groceries as I have no food left in the apartment.
However, this sense of urgency is being fought vehemently by my lethargy and habitual procrastination. This battle has been going on in my head since morning, where my mind knows I have things to do but at the same time, my body refuses to move from its half sitting, half lying position, with my laptop resting firmly where it is meant to be - on my lap.
How I'll manage to get everything done before I leave is yet to be seen. It's going to be an interesting weekend.
A Walk Down Memory Lane (2009)
1/20/09
I went on my favorite walk last night. I used to walk that route when I was doing my bachelors here. Whenever I would get too tense and needed to wind down, I found this walk to be very relaxing. It starts from the library on my campus and after making a semi-circle spanning around six blocks, reaches the downtown park. A lap around the park and it continues zigzagging through streets until it reaches the library once again. The whole trip's a little over a couple miles long.
I went to the library in the evening yesterday to return a book I'd checked out last week, and decided to go on my favorite walk on the spur of the moment. So I got a cup of coffee from the library cafe and set off. Stepping out of the glass doors of the building, I crossed the street and starting walking on the pavement to the left. On my right, across the street, I saw my bank - Washington Mutual. The financial crisis had hit them hard as well. So much so that they were acquired by Chase. I guess that's still better than getting bankrupt. At least our services haven't been disrupted and everything is going normal with our accounts. Imagine waking up and finding no money in your account! <-- This is posed to those who usually have at least some money in their accounts. :
Across from the bank, on my left, was another tall glass building that had seen better times. It was the headquarters of Knight Ridder, a large publishing house that owned many newspapers at one time. Over the years, it had gone through some pretty rough times, selling and cutting down on publications. The last I heard, it too was acquired by another company. The building retains its old name though. Glass windows through which you can see smartly dressed people sitting in front of their computers even at this time of the night makes you wonder if there is such a thing as a 'stable career' anymore.
On my right, a few steps down, I reached a store of Blockbuster Video. I used to rent a lot of movies from here before I discovered a very large collection of movies I could check out for free from the library. That was the last I stepped into this store.
Crossing another street, I was now on the second block and saw a Starbuck's Coffee on my right across the street. This, along with another Starbuck's a little closer to campus, were my favorite coffee hangouts where I spent many hours applying for grad school on my laptop two years ago. In fact, this was the branch where I got acceptance email from both Rutger's and Thunderbird, out of which I eventually ended up going for Thunderbird.
While crossing another street, I could see the HP Pavilion in the distance, a large football stadium from where supporters of the San Jose Sharks in blue and white jerseys are all you see on weekends whichever way you look.
The next street was my favorite Market Street. Beginning sometime in May all the way till late December, this street transforms itself completely on Fridays. During that time, it is home to the Farmer's Market which covers the whole block and where farmers and growers from all areas nearby bring their fresh produce to sell. There is a lot of color, celebration and interesting people to see during the day there - a lot of free samples, inexpensive good quality produce and nice people to learn from about food.
I took a left from there, walking towards the downtown park a couple blocks away. Here, on my left was the San Jose Art Museum. After it's over, there comes a wide courtyard on the left where, during the 'Christmas in the Park' Festival in the park a little down the street, they put a large ice-skating rink. The whole place is filled with christmas lights and small stalls selling all kinds of candy, beverages and snacks. One of my all-time fav pastimes during the festival was to get a cup of hot chocolate from a stall close-by, sit on the stone steps of the museum, and observe the people in the rink. The expressions on the faces of grown up people while they struggle with skating without falling, taking baby steps while clutching the railing as if their life depends on it (which sometimes really is the case), while watching little kids outdoing them and passing by snickering at them is hilarious.
A few more steps and another street crossing, and I was at the park. After the festival is over and all the decorations pulled down and trucked away, this place loses about 80% of its charm. It is a small park surrounded by busy streets on all sides. So basically, you can call it a big, green roundabout, really. Nevertheless, a full-circle walk around it is refreshing.
After completing the lap, I crossed the street again and started walking my most favorite stretch of the whole track. It is a busy little walking lane between two sets of buildings, with restaurants, cafes and shops heavily dotting both sides. There is also a small bakery across the post office that sells delicious cheesecake. Then on my left comes my old hair salon Tangerine which I have dumped for my cousin's hair salon in her garage. That one's free. :)
Crossing another street brought me to the second branch of Starbuck's Coffee I mentioned earlier. I remember this one more because of my weekend trips to a store I worked at a few years ago for which I used to take the light rail right in front of it. Those trips had to start with Caramel Apple Cider from Starbuck's or I refused to board the light rail.
There is also a Korean beverage house across from it that sells some of my favorite juice drinks. For some reason, it is very ineptly named Quickly Tea Cafe. :/
And then came my all-time favorite downtown stop - the Camera 12 cinema. Being a movie freak, I used to spend atleast one whole day of my weekend here. I used to go in the morning to catch a matinee show and come out at night after my third movie. Everyone knows me in there.
After the cinema, I reached the end of the lane and took a left to get back to the library a couple blocks away. But before my trail ended, there was one more place I remembered. There was, on this street, a balcony of an apartment on the first floor (or ground floor according to some). I saw the empty wooden chair as I got closer. There was no one there as always. It was dark and the curtains were drawn so I couldn't see inside. But that's not why I was there. There was something else I remembered so clearly about that balcony. I wondered if it was still... Yes. Still there. As I reached below the balcony, the familiar waft of chocolate cigar washed all over me.
It was always there at night. And it always took me back to our TV lounge back home in Karachi, where my dad used to smoke a chocolate cigar every other weekend. I loved its smell. This balcony reminded me of him.
A few more strides and I was back at the library, from where I started my 10 minute walk to my apartment, feeling refreshed and relaxed.
This walk never disappointed me.
I went on my favorite walk last night. I used to walk that route when I was doing my bachelors here. Whenever I would get too tense and needed to wind down, I found this walk to be very relaxing. It starts from the library on my campus and after making a semi-circle spanning around six blocks, reaches the downtown park. A lap around the park and it continues zigzagging through streets until it reaches the library once again. The whole trip's a little over a couple miles long.
I went to the library in the evening yesterday to return a book I'd checked out last week, and decided to go on my favorite walk on the spur of the moment. So I got a cup of coffee from the library cafe and set off. Stepping out of the glass doors of the building, I crossed the street and starting walking on the pavement to the left. On my right, across the street, I saw my bank - Washington Mutual. The financial crisis had hit them hard as well. So much so that they were acquired by Chase. I guess that's still better than getting bankrupt. At least our services haven't been disrupted and everything is going normal with our accounts. Imagine waking up and finding no money in your account! <-- This is posed to those who usually have at least some money in their accounts. :
Across from the bank, on my left, was another tall glass building that had seen better times. It was the headquarters of Knight Ridder, a large publishing house that owned many newspapers at one time. Over the years, it had gone through some pretty rough times, selling and cutting down on publications. The last I heard, it too was acquired by another company. The building retains its old name though. Glass windows through which you can see smartly dressed people sitting in front of their computers even at this time of the night makes you wonder if there is such a thing as a 'stable career' anymore.
On my right, a few steps down, I reached a store of Blockbuster Video. I used to rent a lot of movies from here before I discovered a very large collection of movies I could check out for free from the library. That was the last I stepped into this store.
Crossing another street, I was now on the second block and saw a Starbuck's Coffee on my right across the street. This, along with another Starbuck's a little closer to campus, were my favorite coffee hangouts where I spent many hours applying for grad school on my laptop two years ago. In fact, this was the branch where I got acceptance email from both Rutger's and Thunderbird, out of which I eventually ended up going for Thunderbird.
While crossing another street, I could see the HP Pavilion in the distance, a large football stadium from where supporters of the San Jose Sharks in blue and white jerseys are all you see on weekends whichever way you look.
The next street was my favorite Market Street. Beginning sometime in May all the way till late December, this street transforms itself completely on Fridays. During that time, it is home to the Farmer's Market which covers the whole block and where farmers and growers from all areas nearby bring their fresh produce to sell. There is a lot of color, celebration and interesting people to see during the day there - a lot of free samples, inexpensive good quality produce and nice people to learn from about food.
I took a left from there, walking towards the downtown park a couple blocks away. Here, on my left was the San Jose Art Museum. After it's over, there comes a wide courtyard on the left where, during the 'Christmas in the Park' Festival in the park a little down the street, they put a large ice-skating rink. The whole place is filled with christmas lights and small stalls selling all kinds of candy, beverages and snacks. One of my all-time fav pastimes during the festival was to get a cup of hot chocolate from a stall close-by, sit on the stone steps of the museum, and observe the people in the rink. The expressions on the faces of grown up people while they struggle with skating without falling, taking baby steps while clutching the railing as if their life depends on it (which sometimes really is the case), while watching little kids outdoing them and passing by snickering at them is hilarious.
A few more steps and another street crossing, and I was at the park. After the festival is over and all the decorations pulled down and trucked away, this place loses about 80% of its charm. It is a small park surrounded by busy streets on all sides. So basically, you can call it a big, green roundabout, really. Nevertheless, a full-circle walk around it is refreshing.
After completing the lap, I crossed the street again and started walking my most favorite stretch of the whole track. It is a busy little walking lane between two sets of buildings, with restaurants, cafes and shops heavily dotting both sides. There is also a small bakery across the post office that sells delicious cheesecake. Then on my left comes my old hair salon Tangerine which I have dumped for my cousin's hair salon in her garage. That one's free. :)
Crossing another street brought me to the second branch of Starbuck's Coffee I mentioned earlier. I remember this one more because of my weekend trips to a store I worked at a few years ago for which I used to take the light rail right in front of it. Those trips had to start with Caramel Apple Cider from Starbuck's or I refused to board the light rail.
There is also a Korean beverage house across from it that sells some of my favorite juice drinks. For some reason, it is very ineptly named Quickly Tea Cafe. :/
And then came my all-time favorite downtown stop - the Camera 12 cinema. Being a movie freak, I used to spend atleast one whole day of my weekend here. I used to go in the morning to catch a matinee show and come out at night after my third movie. Everyone knows me in there.
After the cinema, I reached the end of the lane and took a left to get back to the library a couple blocks away. But before my trail ended, there was one more place I remembered. There was, on this street, a balcony of an apartment on the first floor (or ground floor according to some). I saw the empty wooden chair as I got closer. There was no one there as always. It was dark and the curtains were drawn so I couldn't see inside. But that's not why I was there. There was something else I remembered so clearly about that balcony. I wondered if it was still... Yes. Still there. As I reached below the balcony, the familiar waft of chocolate cigar washed all over me.
It was always there at night. And it always took me back to our TV lounge back home in Karachi, where my dad used to smoke a chocolate cigar every other weekend. I loved its smell. This balcony reminded me of him.
A few more strides and I was back at the library, from where I started my 10 minute walk to my apartment, feeling refreshed and relaxed.
This walk never disappointed me.
Bathroom (2009)
1/12/09
I have always accorded the bathroom the respect and status it deserves. Which means that I consider it an important room in the house, that requires attention and praise. Not just a place to brush your teeth or respond to nature's call, it is a room where one can take a long and hot relaxing shower after a hard day, experiment with all kinds of hair and facial products in peace and, for someone like me who finds relaxation in clear flowing water, a place where I can turn on the tap and just play with the flowing water while my thoughts run wild in my head. In short, it is a small heaven in one's house. At least in mine.
After spending an adventurous time in the kids' bathroom at my cousin's place, where I established a special bond with not only Spiderman on the shower curtain, but also Johnson's Baby Shampoo - No Tears, I was looking forward to what I'll get once I move into my new apartment. The good news - that I'd be sharing it with only one other girl. The bad news - you never know what works and what doesn't in a downtown apartment.
So the night I moved in, I went straight to the bathroom after dumping my suitcases over my roommate's suitcases to have a look at the place. The bathroom looked okay. Not something spectacular but the good thing was that it was freshly painted and didn't have any rusty hardware (I hate that!). The bad points - there was no shower curtain rod so we'd have to buy that. They had also done some repairs and conveniently forgotten to clean up after themselves and so we had little pieces of broke wall here and there on the floor.
But the one con that took the cake was the absence of a well-functioning bathroom door. Yep. The management, for some screwed up reason, thought it a fantastic idea to install a sliding door in the bathroom. A door that had apparently seen some bad times and mistreatment due to which it had now grown tough and resistant and refused to shut more than halfway until its rights were restored and its lost pride compensated.
The management said the repairman will come to our place in two days' time to fix it. Until then, me and my roommate had to get out of the room so the other could shut the bedroom door and use the bathroom. :
The next day I took a shower without a shower curtain and turned the whole bathroom into a miniature swimming pool. Coming out, I put "shower curtain and rod" at the top of my "To Buy" list. A couple hours later, after my roommate came out of the shower looking exhausted due to swimming all the way from the bath tub to the still stubborn bathroom door, we dropped everything and made an emergency trip to Walmart.
The repairman, thankfully, came the next day. Another good thing - he told us that instead of repairing the sliding door, he would take it out and instead install a regular, normal door. Goody!
My roommate and I left the room to sit in the living room while he worked on the door. After he was done in a few hours, we went back in to discover, to our horror, the insane amount of dust all over the room, especially near the bathroom door where he'd been drilling like a man possessed. What was worse, the thickest dust had comfortably settled on our suitcases and clothes and other stuff lying on top of them, which we had stupidly dumped as close to the bathroom door as we could. Blowing away the dust until I was about to get sued by my lungs under "Abuse and Battery", I found my iPod, glasses, clock and some freshly laundered clothes that would be making a trip to the washing machine again, due to no fault of their own.
What was perplexing though was the disappearance of my towel that I had thrown over my suitcase a few minutes before the repairman arrived. To this day, I haven't been able to find it. My roommate and I have been deliberating over it since. Where would the towel go? If the repairman took it, then why did he? If he stole it, then why leave the clock and other stuff and take, of all things, a towel? And if he threw it away, why the fuck did he, dammit?!
I didn't even have another towel. I threw away the extra one back in Arizona to lighten my luggage. For the two days after the disappearance of my towel, I had been using paper towels. Yes, even after showers. It took me 20 minutes to take a shower and another twenty to dry myself up. Had to make another trip to Walmart finally to buy another towel.
The good news though - we have a clean and well-functioning bathroom with a working, pliable, obedient door now. It has running hot and cold water, fresh paint, a shower curtain on a rod and now, even a little plant. An ugly one though. It belongs to my roommate. I am thinking of a way to slow-poison it by pouring a little mouthwash in it everyday so she has to buy a new, better one. This time, I'll tag along to make sure it is acceptable to me too. ;)
I have always accorded the bathroom the respect and status it deserves. Which means that I consider it an important room in the house, that requires attention and praise. Not just a place to brush your teeth or respond to nature's call, it is a room where one can take a long and hot relaxing shower after a hard day, experiment with all kinds of hair and facial products in peace and, for someone like me who finds relaxation in clear flowing water, a place where I can turn on the tap and just play with the flowing water while my thoughts run wild in my head. In short, it is a small heaven in one's house. At least in mine.
After spending an adventurous time in the kids' bathroom at my cousin's place, where I established a special bond with not only Spiderman on the shower curtain, but also Johnson's Baby Shampoo - No Tears, I was looking forward to what I'll get once I move into my new apartment. The good news - that I'd be sharing it with only one other girl. The bad news - you never know what works and what doesn't in a downtown apartment.
So the night I moved in, I went straight to the bathroom after dumping my suitcases over my roommate's suitcases to have a look at the place. The bathroom looked okay. Not something spectacular but the good thing was that it was freshly painted and didn't have any rusty hardware (I hate that!). The bad points - there was no shower curtain rod so we'd have to buy that. They had also done some repairs and conveniently forgotten to clean up after themselves and so we had little pieces of broke wall here and there on the floor.
But the one con that took the cake was the absence of a well-functioning bathroom door. Yep. The management, for some screwed up reason, thought it a fantastic idea to install a sliding door in the bathroom. A door that had apparently seen some bad times and mistreatment due to which it had now grown tough and resistant and refused to shut more than halfway until its rights were restored and its lost pride compensated.
The management said the repairman will come to our place in two days' time to fix it. Until then, me and my roommate had to get out of the room so the other could shut the bedroom door and use the bathroom. :
The next day I took a shower without a shower curtain and turned the whole bathroom into a miniature swimming pool. Coming out, I put "shower curtain and rod" at the top of my "To Buy" list. A couple hours later, after my roommate came out of the shower looking exhausted due to swimming all the way from the bath tub to the still stubborn bathroom door, we dropped everything and made an emergency trip to Walmart.
The repairman, thankfully, came the next day. Another good thing - he told us that instead of repairing the sliding door, he would take it out and instead install a regular, normal door. Goody!
My roommate and I left the room to sit in the living room while he worked on the door. After he was done in a few hours, we went back in to discover, to our horror, the insane amount of dust all over the room, especially near the bathroom door where he'd been drilling like a man possessed. What was worse, the thickest dust had comfortably settled on our suitcases and clothes and other stuff lying on top of them, which we had stupidly dumped as close to the bathroom door as we could. Blowing away the dust until I was about to get sued by my lungs under "Abuse and Battery", I found my iPod, glasses, clock and some freshly laundered clothes that would be making a trip to the washing machine again, due to no fault of their own.
What was perplexing though was the disappearance of my towel that I had thrown over my suitcase a few minutes before the repairman arrived. To this day, I haven't been able to find it. My roommate and I have been deliberating over it since. Where would the towel go? If the repairman took it, then why did he? If he stole it, then why leave the clock and other stuff and take, of all things, a towel? And if he threw it away, why the fuck did he, dammit?!
I didn't even have another towel. I threw away the extra one back in Arizona to lighten my luggage. For the two days after the disappearance of my towel, I had been using paper towels. Yes, even after showers. It took me 20 minutes to take a shower and another twenty to dry myself up. Had to make another trip to Walmart finally to buy another towel.
The good news though - we have a clean and well-functioning bathroom with a working, pliable, obedient door now. It has running hot and cold water, fresh paint, a shower curtain on a rod and now, even a little plant. An ugly one though. It belongs to my roommate. I am thinking of a way to slow-poison it by pouring a little mouthwash in it everyday so she has to buy a new, better one. This time, I'll tag along to make sure it is acceptable to me too. ;)
Blast from the Past (2009)
1/7/09
I moved to my apartment two days back. It's in downtown, and comes with all the downtown frills - loud noise 24/7, people from all walks of life walking around ranging from business-suited executives to not so well-suited bums. I've lived in this downtown for 3 years before going to Arizona for my Masters, so it was nothing new. But coming back to all this was surely... weird.
When I was leaving one and a half years ago, I wasn't so sure if I would ever see this place again. And that made me sad. Of all the places I've lived at in the States, I liked San Jose the most. It is just the right balance between a large metro city and a small town. Not too quiet and not too noisy. Though the place I live at right now, is in open defiance of the latter.
When I got back to this place, with all the familiar streets and landmarks, the first feeling to hit me was depression. I hate going back in the past. I don't like reminiscing about it too much, or missing it all the time, or wishing I could go back in time. I am always looking ahead, at the future and its uncertainties and surprises. So coming back to my past, although temporarily, was not a pleasant feeling.
My cousin's whole family came to drop me. They even go to the barber together. Or even when just going to get gas in the car. I know families sticking together is a good thing and it is the family's right under almost evey country's constitution to travel freely together anywhere they want, but some people just abuse that privilege.
That my cousin is just simply awesome and very caring was never under doubt. And she proved it again when, a hour before we were about to leave to drop me off, she started packing a portion of almost everything in her refrigerator for me to take with me to the new place and be well fed until I settle in and start cooking myself. She also clearly labeled each container and gave me another bag full of snacks ranging from microwaveable pop corn to these strange little cookies that look disgusting but actually taste delicious.
As is her habit, my cousin was chatting even while packing food in the kitchen. I, on the other hand, sitting in the living room in front of the kitchen entrance, was more concerned about fitting all my stuff in my three bags of less weight instead of two heavy ones. This was an effort to not give my bro-in-law a reason to take a month long leave from work due to a broken back and pulled tendons.
"At least tumhein khaana pakana aata hai, yeh achi baat hai..."
She chatted while I pulled out my books (the heaviest items, no doubt) from my suitcase and stuffed them in my backpack.
"..Meri to jab shaadi hui thi aur mein America aayi, mujhay to kuch bhi banana nahi aata tha.."
To fit the books, I had to take out some electronic items from my backpack first and put them in the other suitcase.
"..sirf anday banaanay aatay thay, bas.."
But that meant taking out some clothes from that suitcase first and putting them.. where? :S
"..Mein roz Zahid ko anday hi bana bana ke khilaati rehti thi.."
I spotted an empty tranparent plastic comforter bag lying in the corner. Apparently, my cousin was about to throw it away. I decided to utilize it instead. That brought my bag count to four. Five if you counted the backpack too.
"..Ando'n ke saath hi roz koi na koi naya experiment karti thi.."
I stuffed my clothes in that bag. There was extra space so I took out some more clothes from other bags and stuffed them in it too.
"..Kabhi fry kar kay, kabhi boil kar ke anday ka salad.."
At last I was done with all the packing and, after neatly arranging all the bags up against the wall, sat back and waited for the family to be ready and leave. And spotted my black T-shirt with the silhouette of a hoochie mama and the tag line calling her male friends in a not-so-family viewable manner.
"..kabhi alag alag masaalay daal ke fry karti thi.. phir ahista ahista vegetables daalnay shuroo kar diye.."
This was a T-shirt I'd gotten for free as a males-TV-channel promotion at the "Branding in Entertainment Industry" conference I had attended in Los Angeles last year. I slept in it sometimes when out of night clothes since it did not merit being worn openly outside in public.
But I doubted anyone would really care for such lengthy explanations in this family. The best thing was to just reach in the transparent bag and turn around the shirt so the logo wasn't viewable. Which I did. Right there and then.
".. magar Zahid buhat achay hain. Kabhi complain nahi ki.. chup kar ke kha letay thay jo bhi bana ke deti thi.."
Poor guy. He was probably going bankrupt in those days because of eating out at restaurants so much.
"..Phir aakhir kaar meinay ahista ahista seekh hi li cooking."
Apparently. The chicken karahi that day was fantabulous.
At last, everyone was ready and my bro-in-law came in from his garden outside where he was fixing some lights. Since he is bald as they just got back from hajj, he wears a woolen hat on his head to prevent his head from getting cold. It is one of those hats that have a woolen poof at the top. I always have to struggle to suppress a giggle when he comes in front of me like that.
We all finally got in the car and they dropped me at the apartment. The place looked real shabby, maybe because it was night. It looked much better the morning after. My roommates are nice and cooperative. Always a plus.
From the next morning onwards, the depression slowly started fading away as I started exploring the area once again and walked around downtown seeing all the familiar places. I missed the "Christmas in the Park" decorations that I used to visit a lot when I lived here. They have those up from the beginning of December till the 31st of December. I could still see the tents rolled up, ready to be carried away as I walked by the park yesterday.
After coming back from my favorite Korean snack shop across from my old campus famous for its spicy snacks and one of my all-time favorite beverages, coconut snow bubble with pearls, I looked outside the window at the dusty and smoky skyline.. and felt happy. For whatever duration I am here, it is definitely good to be back.
I moved to my apartment two days back. It's in downtown, and comes with all the downtown frills - loud noise 24/7, people from all walks of life walking around ranging from business-suited executives to not so well-suited bums. I've lived in this downtown for 3 years before going to Arizona for my Masters, so it was nothing new. But coming back to all this was surely... weird.
When I was leaving one and a half years ago, I wasn't so sure if I would ever see this place again. And that made me sad. Of all the places I've lived at in the States, I liked San Jose the most. It is just the right balance between a large metro city and a small town. Not too quiet and not too noisy. Though the place I live at right now, is in open defiance of the latter.
When I got back to this place, with all the familiar streets and landmarks, the first feeling to hit me was depression. I hate going back in the past. I don't like reminiscing about it too much, or missing it all the time, or wishing I could go back in time. I am always looking ahead, at the future and its uncertainties and surprises. So coming back to my past, although temporarily, was not a pleasant feeling.
My cousin's whole family came to drop me. They even go to the barber together. Or even when just going to get gas in the car. I know families sticking together is a good thing and it is the family's right under almost evey country's constitution to travel freely together anywhere they want, but some people just abuse that privilege.
That my cousin is just simply awesome and very caring was never under doubt. And she proved it again when, a hour before we were about to leave to drop me off, she started packing a portion of almost everything in her refrigerator for me to take with me to the new place and be well fed until I settle in and start cooking myself. She also clearly labeled each container and gave me another bag full of snacks ranging from microwaveable pop corn to these strange little cookies that look disgusting but actually taste delicious.
As is her habit, my cousin was chatting even while packing food in the kitchen. I, on the other hand, sitting in the living room in front of the kitchen entrance, was more concerned about fitting all my stuff in my three bags of less weight instead of two heavy ones. This was an effort to not give my bro-in-law a reason to take a month long leave from work due to a broken back and pulled tendons.
"At least tumhein khaana pakana aata hai, yeh achi baat hai..."
She chatted while I pulled out my books (the heaviest items, no doubt) from my suitcase and stuffed them in my backpack.
"..Meri to jab shaadi hui thi aur mein America aayi, mujhay to kuch bhi banana nahi aata tha.."
To fit the books, I had to take out some electronic items from my backpack first and put them in the other suitcase.
"..sirf anday banaanay aatay thay, bas.."
But that meant taking out some clothes from that suitcase first and putting them.. where? :S
"..Mein roz Zahid ko anday hi bana bana ke khilaati rehti thi.."
I spotted an empty tranparent plastic comforter bag lying in the corner. Apparently, my cousin was about to throw it away. I decided to utilize it instead. That brought my bag count to four. Five if you counted the backpack too.
"..Ando'n ke saath hi roz koi na koi naya experiment karti thi.."
I stuffed my clothes in that bag. There was extra space so I took out some more clothes from other bags and stuffed them in it too.
"..Kabhi fry kar kay, kabhi boil kar ke anday ka salad.."
At last I was done with all the packing and, after neatly arranging all the bags up against the wall, sat back and waited for the family to be ready and leave. And spotted my black T-shirt with the silhouette of a hoochie mama and the tag line calling her male friends in a not-so-family viewable manner.
"..kabhi alag alag masaalay daal ke fry karti thi.. phir ahista ahista vegetables daalnay shuroo kar diye.."
This was a T-shirt I'd gotten for free as a males-TV-channel promotion at the "Branding in Entertainment Industry" conference I had attended in Los Angeles last year. I slept in it sometimes when out of night clothes since it did not merit being worn openly outside in public.
But I doubted anyone would really care for such lengthy explanations in this family. The best thing was to just reach in the transparent bag and turn around the shirt so the logo wasn't viewable. Which I did. Right there and then.
".. magar Zahid buhat achay hain. Kabhi complain nahi ki.. chup kar ke kha letay thay jo bhi bana ke deti thi.."
Poor guy. He was probably going bankrupt in those days because of eating out at restaurants so much.
"..Phir aakhir kaar meinay ahista ahista seekh hi li cooking."
Apparently. The chicken karahi that day was fantabulous.
At last, everyone was ready and my bro-in-law came in from his garden outside where he was fixing some lights. Since he is bald as they just got back from hajj, he wears a woolen hat on his head to prevent his head from getting cold. It is one of those hats that have a woolen poof at the top. I always have to struggle to suppress a giggle when he comes in front of me like that.
We all finally got in the car and they dropped me at the apartment. The place looked real shabby, maybe because it was night. It looked much better the morning after. My roommates are nice and cooperative. Always a plus.
From the next morning onwards, the depression slowly started fading away as I started exploring the area once again and walked around downtown seeing all the familiar places. I missed the "Christmas in the Park" decorations that I used to visit a lot when I lived here. They have those up from the beginning of December till the 31st of December. I could still see the tents rolled up, ready to be carried away as I walked by the park yesterday.
After coming back from my favorite Korean snack shop across from my old campus famous for its spicy snacks and one of my all-time favorite beverages, coconut snow bubble with pearls, I looked outside the window at the dusty and smoky skyline.. and felt happy. For whatever duration I am here, it is definitely good to be back.
Happy Birthday To Me (2008)
12/26/08
The last couple of my birthdays have been lonely affairs. The one last year was in Arizona spent in my dorm room with the whole campus empty as a result of Christmas holidays. I slept through most of it. The one before it was in San Jose, again alone for the most part due to holidays but I spent it walking around downtown, watching the Christmas decorations, visiting "Christmas in the Park," eating out, and generally having a lot of fun. This year was a complete contrast. And no, not in a good way.
As mentioned earlier, we had breakfast invitation from a Pakistani family that had visited my cousin's place a few days ago. I was told to be ready by 10 AM when they'll leave. Which I did. Which meant I had to get up around 8:30 and take a shower at that godforsaken hour. Even Spiderman, with whom I've established a special bond, looked sleepy. Everything felt unnatural since I usually wake up after 12. Sometimes even 2-3 hours after 12. The rest of the family didn't share my sense of punctuality though. It was 11:30 when my cousin came to my room to see if I was ready to go. And shrieked.
"Tum abhi tak tayyar nahi hueen?"
"Ho to gai hun."
She looked at me from head to toe. I felt very conscious in my blue jeans and pink Aeropostale top that proudly read, "Trees Are For Hugging."
"Shalwar kameez nahi hai?"
"Shalwar kameez pehenni paregi?"
"Haan wahan 7-8 Pakistani families aayeingi. Sab shalwar kameez hi pehentay hain aisay moqo'n...."
But I didn't hear the rest. I was still stuck on the first part.
"7-8 families?! Aap ne kaha tha bas hum hi hongay!"
"Haan hum, aur 7-8 aur families."
The one thing I hate more than big gatherings, is even bigger gatherings. :
"Hai ya phir mein apni koi shalwar kameez doon?"
"Hai eik black. Dupatta nahi hai lekin. Woh meray socks ke saath mein apnay dorm room mein bhool aayi hun bed ke neechay. Ab tak phenk dia hoga unhon ne."
"Hmm, black dupattay to hain. Kounsa wala chahiye? Georgette? Silk? Plain? Self-print? Border wala?"
"Koi bhi," my head still reeling. And a faint image of my cousin as a pathan kapray wala in Meena Bazar.
"Acha eik hai buhat acha magar us ka blue bord... "
"I really don't care."
-----------------------
Fifteen minutes later, in all my Pakistaniat, I was still waiting for them downstairs in the living room, watching my cousin run after her youngest son trying to get his shoes on.
At last, after the third call from the hosts and eight rounds around the house by my cousin chasing her son, during which she'd miraculously applied her eyeliner and mascara as well, we were all seated in the car and on our way.
I spent the whole half hour drive to Santa Clara biting my lower lip to stop myself from turning around and spanking Azzam who was continuously kicking my seat from the back in an effort to provide me with a free, but unneeded, kick massage. Rameel was asleep in the seat next to mine. My cousin was busy egging her husband on in the front.
"Zahid thora tez chalayein. Humein buhat dair ho gai hai."
"80 pe ja raha hun."
"Saari gaariyan to hum se aagay nikal gai hain. Yeh aagay red wali bhi hum se kitni peechay thi. Yeh bhi aagay chali gai."
"Us mein ja ke beth jao."
------------------------
We reached our destination at 12:30 PM, a huge house with a "Absar Family" plate on the entrance door greeting us. The host and hostess came out to greet us. I had my fake smile firmly pasted on my face from there on. We were shown inside to the living room which, to my horror, was full of children of every age and size. There were around 18 of them. I have never been to such a huge gathering in the States. And I didn't know 90% of them.
The aunties and girls were sitting around the kids on couches. As I placed myself in an empty spot in a corner, with my fake smile still in place, I wondered who the hell all these people were and what the fuck was I doing here?
Thankfully, soon afterwards, our hostess announced that breakfast, which was lunch now, was ready. Good. In all the hullabaloo, I had totally forgotten my appetite and just then realized that I was starving. Another good thing - since the food was already served, it meant less chit chat and the sooner we are done with eating, the quicker we can leave. The food was delicious. Pooris with halwa, chanay and aloo ka salan, shaami kebab, qeema, and a few other interesting dishes. Good stuff. Yet another good thing - there was no sign of the infamous Rehan or his similar sounding younger brother. Really good stuff.
After we were done with the food and later tea, I started seeing a couple of families leave, and upped my own hopes, frantically searching and locating my cousin among all the other ladies and waiting for her to announce our departure too. I switched my pleasant "guest smile" to grateful "about to leave guest smile."
But that announcement never came. More tea came. 2 o'clock came. A headache came. But that announcement never came.
Soon after, my fake smile quit on me too. A kid kept staring at me. Another had a box she kept shutting and then asking me to open it again. There was a rock in it. One of them thought it would be absolutely hilarious to tie the end of my dupatta around a headless doll. Yet another came and started talking to me.
"This is blue," pointing to the blue colored toy gun in his hand.
"Yes, it is," I smiled at him.
"It's my blue gun."
"Oh, really, It's cool."
"I will destroy you."
What the fuck.
I ignored that kid onwards, and tried concentrating on the TV where Peter Pan cartoon was playing on DVD. Aunties kept bugging me. My mood was off and they won't get a hint. I greeted all their queries and remarks with a frown and "I don't give a damn so don't waste your breath" look and they still won't get a clue. Yappin', yappin', yappin'. Chatter, chatter, chatter. For God's sake, enough with your children's stupid stories. Lemme concentrate on the damned Captain Hook getting screwed by the time-ticking crocodile! My cousin took some pity on me and asked if I wanted to eat something. I told her I wanted kheer. It looked delicious during lunch but I hadn't tried it since I was too full.
Soon after she left, another aunty, with her 2-year old boy, planted herself next to me on the couch and started chatting like I was her best friend, at the same time force-feeding her kid some bottled milk.
"Subah se is ne kuch bhi nahi khaya hai. Itna pareshan kiya hua hai is ne mujhe..."
Go away.
"...sirf mujh se khaata hai ya apni Papa se. Aur koi jitni marzi koshish kar lay, yeh nahi maanta..."
Listen lady, I really couldn't care less.
"...is ki bari behen bhi isay itna tang karti hai. Is ke baal nochti hai..."
Good.
"...beemar na ho jaye. Khaaye ga nahi to bara kaise hoga...
Please get me married to one of them rhyming brothers. They seem like an intelligent bunch, to have successfully avoided this shenannigan.
"... dono mujhe poora din itna tang karte hain... Oh ho!"
And to my disgust, the boy threw up on his mom's clothes right there in front of me.
Eww.
"Kitni kheer laoon? Itni theek hai?" My cousin called from the kitchen, showing me a bowl.
"No, thank you. Abhi dil nahi chah raha."
---------------------------
I was about to doze off after getting numb from all the noise around me, when it was announced that it's time to celebrate the birthday of the hosts' youngest daughter Hibba, whose actual birthday was on the 24th, a day earlier. A huge cake was brought to the middle table.
And then a sudden fear gripped me. As everyone began gathering around the table, I crossed my legs and started a silent meditation from my corner sofa in efforts of connecting with my cousin on a spiritual and mental plane. Please don't tell them. Please don't say it. Please spare me. Please don't tell them..
"Aray aaj to iski bhi birthday hai!" popped up my cousin out of nowhere and announced, pointing at me. All eyes turned towards me.
Fuck.
Silently cursing her and putting "working on my rusty telepathic skills" on my mental list of new year's resolutions, I smiled back and whimpered at the same time. The hosts decided that after Hibba, we will celebrate my birthday too on the same cake. Oh joy.
As I dragged my lead-filled feet from the sofa to the middle of the room, surrounded by all these people that - I repeat - I don't know, haven't laid eyes on ever before, and would probably never meet again, I vaguely remembered by previous couple of birthdays spent in blissful solitude, walking through the decorated park in downtown San Jose. In a sharp contrast I was jerked to my present predicament, where I seemed to be stuck in traffic and going round and round on Embarassment Central.
I looked down at the already cut cake that read, "Happy Birthday Hibba" and wondered how I landed in this living room in the first place. It was my dad's fault. If he hadn't allowed me to come to the States, I wouldn't be here right now. I decided to cut short this embarassing moment where I had turned the same shade as the one I am so fond of putting on my DP's, and stabbed the cake. And it was over. I crawled back to my dark corner and wished I was dead.
----------------------------
The large clock in the living room struck 4 PM. We've been there for four hours. Some families left. Some more came. Kids everywhere. Aunties cackling. Uncles guffawing. Peter Pan over. The nerve in my head visibly throbbing. This time, the hostess came to my rescue. She guided me to the computer room with about 5 computers lined up and said I could pass my time here if I was getting too bored. Thank God.
I went online, thanked friends on Facebook and Orkut for wishing me, bitched about my day to a couple of them, and while I was gaining some normalcy back in my life, my cousin came to the room and announced that everyone, every single one of the people in the house, was leaving for a bollywood movie, Ghajini in about an hour.
:O
"But Kanwal baji, I don't watch Bollywood movies!"
"We don't have a choice. Sabah bhabi (our hostess) has bought tickets for everyone online. Ab jaana parega."
"Mujhe yaheen chhor do! Ya apnay ghar drop kar do. I'll guard your house like a faithful puppy until you all return!"
"Buri baat hai. Unhon ne ab sab plan kar lia hai. Saath chalo. Tum so jaana theater mein."
"Magar mujhe nahi dekhni!"
"Kyun nahi dekhti bollywood ki filmein?"
Because I have principles!
But before I could answer, another shriek came from somewhere outside the room. A 9-year old girl was also throwing a similar tantrum with her mother. She didn't like going to Indian movies.
Ahh, my soulmate! And I was totally prepared to disregard the age difference. And the fact that she was a girl. I was so scattered.
Alas, we were against about 20 or so people. So we lost. And within an hour, I was sitting in my cousin's car again, this time on our way to an Indian cinema.
----------------------
I was greeted with the same peculiar smell inside the cinema that is a trademark of Indian theaters. I used to make fun of people who came to the movies in huge groups with kids yelling and shouting. And here I was, one of them, seated between a 12-year old and an old Indian uncle.
The movie was typical. Loads of melodrama, camera jerks, item numbers, songs and dances, ‘coincidences’, etc. I managed to grab a few minutes’ sleep here and there. Whenever I woke up, Amir Khan was either beating the crap out of random ghundas, or was getting banged in the head by an iron rod. There is something rather unnerving about watching a 5 feet 6 inches tall man sending over 6 feet tall, well-built guys flying high in the air with each kick. Nothing has changed in Bollywood.
The only part I liked a little was the few minutes’ long flashback where he met his girlfriend whose death he was apparently avenging throughout the movie. That was charming. Bollywood sometimes does a good job at handling romance. Other than that, let’s just say that after the never-ending three hours, I was glad it actually did end. I had given up hope and was about to get comfy in my springy seat and calling it a night right there.
I don’t remember walking out the theater, or the drive back home, or getting to my room. All I remember was glancing at my clock that read 11:00 PM before my head hit the pillow.
Bliss.
The last couple of my birthdays have been lonely affairs. The one last year was in Arizona spent in my dorm room with the whole campus empty as a result of Christmas holidays. I slept through most of it. The one before it was in San Jose, again alone for the most part due to holidays but I spent it walking around downtown, watching the Christmas decorations, visiting "Christmas in the Park," eating out, and generally having a lot of fun. This year was a complete contrast. And no, not in a good way.
As mentioned earlier, we had breakfast invitation from a Pakistani family that had visited my cousin's place a few days ago. I was told to be ready by 10 AM when they'll leave. Which I did. Which meant I had to get up around 8:30 and take a shower at that godforsaken hour. Even Spiderman, with whom I've established a special bond, looked sleepy. Everything felt unnatural since I usually wake up after 12. Sometimes even 2-3 hours after 12. The rest of the family didn't share my sense of punctuality though. It was 11:30 when my cousin came to my room to see if I was ready to go. And shrieked.
"Tum abhi tak tayyar nahi hueen?"
"Ho to gai hun."
She looked at me from head to toe. I felt very conscious in my blue jeans and pink Aeropostale top that proudly read, "Trees Are For Hugging."
"Shalwar kameez nahi hai?"
"Shalwar kameez pehenni paregi?"
"Haan wahan 7-8 Pakistani families aayeingi. Sab shalwar kameez hi pehentay hain aisay moqo'n...."
But I didn't hear the rest. I was still stuck on the first part.
"7-8 families?! Aap ne kaha tha bas hum hi hongay!"
"Haan hum, aur 7-8 aur families."
The one thing I hate more than big gatherings, is even bigger gatherings. :
"Hai ya phir mein apni koi shalwar kameez doon?"
"Hai eik black. Dupatta nahi hai lekin. Woh meray socks ke saath mein apnay dorm room mein bhool aayi hun bed ke neechay. Ab tak phenk dia hoga unhon ne."
"Hmm, black dupattay to hain. Kounsa wala chahiye? Georgette? Silk? Plain? Self-print? Border wala?"
"Koi bhi," my head still reeling. And a faint image of my cousin as a pathan kapray wala in Meena Bazar.
"Acha eik hai buhat acha magar us ka blue bord... "
"I really don't care."
-----------------------
Fifteen minutes later, in all my Pakistaniat, I was still waiting for them downstairs in the living room, watching my cousin run after her youngest son trying to get his shoes on.
At last, after the third call from the hosts and eight rounds around the house by my cousin chasing her son, during which she'd miraculously applied her eyeliner and mascara as well, we were all seated in the car and on our way.
I spent the whole half hour drive to Santa Clara biting my lower lip to stop myself from turning around and spanking Azzam who was continuously kicking my seat from the back in an effort to provide me with a free, but unneeded, kick massage. Rameel was asleep in the seat next to mine. My cousin was busy egging her husband on in the front.
"Zahid thora tez chalayein. Humein buhat dair ho gai hai."
"80 pe ja raha hun."
"Saari gaariyan to hum se aagay nikal gai hain. Yeh aagay red wali bhi hum se kitni peechay thi. Yeh bhi aagay chali gai."
"Us mein ja ke beth jao."
------------------------
We reached our destination at 12:30 PM, a huge house with a "Absar Family" plate on the entrance door greeting us. The host and hostess came out to greet us. I had my fake smile firmly pasted on my face from there on. We were shown inside to the living room which, to my horror, was full of children of every age and size. There were around 18 of them. I have never been to such a huge gathering in the States. And I didn't know 90% of them.
The aunties and girls were sitting around the kids on couches. As I placed myself in an empty spot in a corner, with my fake smile still in place, I wondered who the hell all these people were and what the fuck was I doing here?
Thankfully, soon afterwards, our hostess announced that breakfast, which was lunch now, was ready. Good. In all the hullabaloo, I had totally forgotten my appetite and just then realized that I was starving. Another good thing - since the food was already served, it meant less chit chat and the sooner we are done with eating, the quicker we can leave. The food was delicious. Pooris with halwa, chanay and aloo ka salan, shaami kebab, qeema, and a few other interesting dishes. Good stuff. Yet another good thing - there was no sign of the infamous Rehan or his similar sounding younger brother. Really good stuff.
After we were done with the food and later tea, I started seeing a couple of families leave, and upped my own hopes, frantically searching and locating my cousin among all the other ladies and waiting for her to announce our departure too. I switched my pleasant "guest smile" to grateful "about to leave guest smile."
But that announcement never came. More tea came. 2 o'clock came. A headache came. But that announcement never came.
Soon after, my fake smile quit on me too. A kid kept staring at me. Another had a box she kept shutting and then asking me to open it again. There was a rock in it. One of them thought it would be absolutely hilarious to tie the end of my dupatta around a headless doll. Yet another came and started talking to me.
"This is blue," pointing to the blue colored toy gun in his hand.
"Yes, it is," I smiled at him.
"It's my blue gun."
"Oh, really, It's cool."
"I will destroy you."
What the fuck.
I ignored that kid onwards, and tried concentrating on the TV where Peter Pan cartoon was playing on DVD. Aunties kept bugging me. My mood was off and they won't get a hint. I greeted all their queries and remarks with a frown and "I don't give a damn so don't waste your breath" look and they still won't get a clue. Yappin', yappin', yappin'. Chatter, chatter, chatter. For God's sake, enough with your children's stupid stories. Lemme concentrate on the damned Captain Hook getting screwed by the time-ticking crocodile! My cousin took some pity on me and asked if I wanted to eat something. I told her I wanted kheer. It looked delicious during lunch but I hadn't tried it since I was too full.
Soon after she left, another aunty, with her 2-year old boy, planted herself next to me on the couch and started chatting like I was her best friend, at the same time force-feeding her kid some bottled milk.
"Subah se is ne kuch bhi nahi khaya hai. Itna pareshan kiya hua hai is ne mujhe..."
Go away.
"...sirf mujh se khaata hai ya apni Papa se. Aur koi jitni marzi koshish kar lay, yeh nahi maanta..."
Listen lady, I really couldn't care less.
"...is ki bari behen bhi isay itna tang karti hai. Is ke baal nochti hai..."
Good.
"...beemar na ho jaye. Khaaye ga nahi to bara kaise hoga...
Please get me married to one of them rhyming brothers. They seem like an intelligent bunch, to have successfully avoided this shenannigan.
"... dono mujhe poora din itna tang karte hain... Oh ho!"
And to my disgust, the boy threw up on his mom's clothes right there in front of me.
Eww.
"Kitni kheer laoon? Itni theek hai?" My cousin called from the kitchen, showing me a bowl.
"No, thank you. Abhi dil nahi chah raha."
---------------------------
I was about to doze off after getting numb from all the noise around me, when it was announced that it's time to celebrate the birthday of the hosts' youngest daughter Hibba, whose actual birthday was on the 24th, a day earlier. A huge cake was brought to the middle table.
And then a sudden fear gripped me. As everyone began gathering around the table, I crossed my legs and started a silent meditation from my corner sofa in efforts of connecting with my cousin on a spiritual and mental plane. Please don't tell them. Please don't say it. Please spare me. Please don't tell them..
"Aray aaj to iski bhi birthday hai!" popped up my cousin out of nowhere and announced, pointing at me. All eyes turned towards me.
Fuck.
Silently cursing her and putting "working on my rusty telepathic skills" on my mental list of new year's resolutions, I smiled back and whimpered at the same time. The hosts decided that after Hibba, we will celebrate my birthday too on the same cake. Oh joy.
As I dragged my lead-filled feet from the sofa to the middle of the room, surrounded by all these people that - I repeat - I don't know, haven't laid eyes on ever before, and would probably never meet again, I vaguely remembered by previous couple of birthdays spent in blissful solitude, walking through the decorated park in downtown San Jose. In a sharp contrast I was jerked to my present predicament, where I seemed to be stuck in traffic and going round and round on Embarassment Central.
I looked down at the already cut cake that read, "Happy Birthday Hibba" and wondered how I landed in this living room in the first place. It was my dad's fault. If he hadn't allowed me to come to the States, I wouldn't be here right now. I decided to cut short this embarassing moment where I had turned the same shade as the one I am so fond of putting on my DP's, and stabbed the cake. And it was over. I crawled back to my dark corner and wished I was dead.
----------------------------
The large clock in the living room struck 4 PM. We've been there for four hours. Some families left. Some more came. Kids everywhere. Aunties cackling. Uncles guffawing. Peter Pan over. The nerve in my head visibly throbbing. This time, the hostess came to my rescue. She guided me to the computer room with about 5 computers lined up and said I could pass my time here if I was getting too bored. Thank God.
I went online, thanked friends on Facebook and Orkut for wishing me, bitched about my day to a couple of them, and while I was gaining some normalcy back in my life, my cousin came to the room and announced that everyone, every single one of the people in the house, was leaving for a bollywood movie, Ghajini in about an hour.
:O
"But Kanwal baji, I don't watch Bollywood movies!"
"We don't have a choice. Sabah bhabi (our hostess) has bought tickets for everyone online. Ab jaana parega."
"Mujhe yaheen chhor do! Ya apnay ghar drop kar do. I'll guard your house like a faithful puppy until you all return!"
"Buri baat hai. Unhon ne ab sab plan kar lia hai. Saath chalo. Tum so jaana theater mein."
"Magar mujhe nahi dekhni!"
"Kyun nahi dekhti bollywood ki filmein?"
Because I have principles!
But before I could answer, another shriek came from somewhere outside the room. A 9-year old girl was also throwing a similar tantrum with her mother. She didn't like going to Indian movies.
Ahh, my soulmate! And I was totally prepared to disregard the age difference. And the fact that she was a girl. I was so scattered.
Alas, we were against about 20 or so people. So we lost. And within an hour, I was sitting in my cousin's car again, this time on our way to an Indian cinema.
----------------------
I was greeted with the same peculiar smell inside the cinema that is a trademark of Indian theaters. I used to make fun of people who came to the movies in huge groups with kids yelling and shouting. And here I was, one of them, seated between a 12-year old and an old Indian uncle.
The movie was typical. Loads of melodrama, camera jerks, item numbers, songs and dances, ‘coincidences’, etc. I managed to grab a few minutes’ sleep here and there. Whenever I woke up, Amir Khan was either beating the crap out of random ghundas, or was getting banged in the head by an iron rod. There is something rather unnerving about watching a 5 feet 6 inches tall man sending over 6 feet tall, well-built guys flying high in the air with each kick. Nothing has changed in Bollywood.
The only part I liked a little was the few minutes’ long flashback where he met his girlfriend whose death he was apparently avenging throughout the movie. That was charming. Bollywood sometimes does a good job at handling romance. Other than that, let’s just say that after the never-ending three hours, I was glad it actually did end. I had given up hope and was about to get comfy in my springy seat and calling it a night right there.
I don’t remember walking out the theater, or the drive back home, or getting to my room. All I remember was glancing at my clock that read 11:00 PM before my head hit the pillow.
Bliss.
Lessons of Life (2008)
12/22/08
After spending 1.5 years in various dorm rooms across campus, where the only cooking utensil in my room was a spoon, I had to depend on campus cafeteria for the bland sustenance it excelled in providing.
Imagine my wonder followed by limitless excitement on coming to my cousin's place and having proper home-made food cooked everyday - ranging from haleem and nihari to chicken tikka and biryani, not to mention goodies like cakes, donuts and diet coke at my disposal anytime I make the effort to open the refrigerator. What a pleasant break from instant noodles!
Ahh, life is good.
It is a different lifestyle that has taught me a lot about stuff I haven't come across before. Like yesterday when we had some guests over. It was a Pakistani family - an aunt, an uncle, and their four young kids. The aunt, I noticed, was taking a bit too much interest in me. Spending most of my time avoiding her nosy questions about my studies, family and future plans, I at last settled with a chilled can of diet Coke on a couch that separated the kitchen from the living room.
In a few minutes, my cousin's youngest son Azzaam went running to his mother and complained, "Mamma, Adeeba thappar me!"
It made me think how Pakistani families whose kids are born and bred in a foreign country balance the teaching of both languages. It must be a challenge for sure.
"Beta, ya English bolo ya Urdu bolo. Jumlay ka tiya paancha kyun kar rahay ho?"
"What's piya taancha, Mamma?" (Adeeba and her thappar totally forgotten by now).
"Kuch nahi. Go play outside."
"But tell me na Mamma, what is chiya chaampa?"
As he mumbled this delicious sounding new word to himself a few more times while his mother completely ignored him, I turned around and returned my attention to the TV. Definitely a big challenge. I wish her luck.
The phone rang. I picked it up. "Hello?"
"Hello, is Can-Well there?"
"Kanwal baji, aap ka phone hai!" I called out.
Handing the phone to her, I turned towards my bro-in-law, Zahid bhai, deep in conversation with the uncle. In a typical Pakistani fashion, Zahid Bhai was inquiring about some guy's very personal life.
"To ab kya kar raha hai Rehan?"
"Kuch nahi. Job kar raha hai aur akela reh raha hai. Apartment le liya hai apna usnay."
"To shaadi kyun nahi kar leta?" (solution to every problem, existent and non-existent).
"Bas kab se hum bhi yahi bol rahay hain usay. Magar usko apni life aisay hi achi lagti hai. Independence enjoy kar raha hai abhi."
"Shaadi kar lay. Zindagi sanwar jaati hai," claimed Zahid Bhai as, a second later, a rubber ball bounced off of his head towards the kitchen. His son ran after it.
"Rameel, bahar ja ke khelo!"
"Sorry, Papa."
As my eyes followed Rameel to the kitchen, I saw the aunt chatting with my cousin who'd gotten off the phone by now. It was a continuation of the same conversation taking place in the living room.
"Dono, Rehan bhi aur ab to uska chhota bhai Faizan bhi, dono hi apnay apnay apartments mein move ho gaye hain. Job bhi achi chal rahi hai dono ki. Ab soch rahay hain un ki shaadiyaan karwayein."
"Haan to karwa do," piped in my cousin off-handedly while washing the crayon off of a table napkin - the result of a sudden spark of artistic inspiration by her kid at dinner.
"Koi achi larki milay bas."
And then she looked straight at me.
:O
Okay. Time to move out. Before they hitch me with one of the rhyming brothers.
I got up, ran up to my room, and called up the girl I am moving in with soon.
"When are we moving in?"
"From the 1st. Bataya to tha."
"Jaldi nahi ho sakta?"
"Nahi, it's not available before that. And you haven't even looked at it. Don't you want to look at it first? Kab chalna hai?"
"No, that's okay. I don't want to look at it. I'll take your word for it."
"Hehe, okay. Kya hua, eik dam se itni jaldi kyun? I thought you were enjoying your stay at your cousin's."
"Yeah, well. Let's just say I have newfound respect for instant noodles again."
"What?"
"Nothing. I gotta go. Talk to you later."
"Bye."
I went downstairs again only after the guests had left. My cousin was cleaning up the kitchen.
"They left?" I asked innocently.
"Yeah. Magar 25th ki subah unhon ne breakfast pe bulaya hai hum sab ko. Aur tumhare liye bhi special invitation hai."
Uh-oh.
"Koun koun aayega wahan?"
"Bas hum hi."
"Okay."
Why do I not have a good feeling about this? :S
After spending 1.5 years in various dorm rooms across campus, where the only cooking utensil in my room was a spoon, I had to depend on campus cafeteria for the bland sustenance it excelled in providing.
Imagine my wonder followed by limitless excitement on coming to my cousin's place and having proper home-made food cooked everyday - ranging from haleem and nihari to chicken tikka and biryani, not to mention goodies like cakes, donuts and diet coke at my disposal anytime I make the effort to open the refrigerator. What a pleasant break from instant noodles!
Ahh, life is good.
It is a different lifestyle that has taught me a lot about stuff I haven't come across before. Like yesterday when we had some guests over. It was a Pakistani family - an aunt, an uncle, and their four young kids. The aunt, I noticed, was taking a bit too much interest in me. Spending most of my time avoiding her nosy questions about my studies, family and future plans, I at last settled with a chilled can of diet Coke on a couch that separated the kitchen from the living room.
In a few minutes, my cousin's youngest son Azzaam went running to his mother and complained, "Mamma, Adeeba thappar me!"
It made me think how Pakistani families whose kids are born and bred in a foreign country balance the teaching of both languages. It must be a challenge for sure.
"Beta, ya English bolo ya Urdu bolo. Jumlay ka tiya paancha kyun kar rahay ho?"
"What's piya taancha, Mamma?" (Adeeba and her thappar totally forgotten by now).
"Kuch nahi. Go play outside."
"But tell me na Mamma, what is chiya chaampa?"
As he mumbled this delicious sounding new word to himself a few more times while his mother completely ignored him, I turned around and returned my attention to the TV. Definitely a big challenge. I wish her luck.
The phone rang. I picked it up. "Hello?"
"Hello, is Can-Well there?"
"Kanwal baji, aap ka phone hai!" I called out.
Handing the phone to her, I turned towards my bro-in-law, Zahid bhai, deep in conversation with the uncle. In a typical Pakistani fashion, Zahid Bhai was inquiring about some guy's very personal life.
"To ab kya kar raha hai Rehan?"
"Kuch nahi. Job kar raha hai aur akela reh raha hai. Apartment le liya hai apna usnay."
"To shaadi kyun nahi kar leta?" (solution to every problem, existent and non-existent).
"Bas kab se hum bhi yahi bol rahay hain usay. Magar usko apni life aisay hi achi lagti hai. Independence enjoy kar raha hai abhi."
"Shaadi kar lay. Zindagi sanwar jaati hai," claimed Zahid Bhai as, a second later, a rubber ball bounced off of his head towards the kitchen. His son ran after it.
"Rameel, bahar ja ke khelo!"
"Sorry, Papa."
As my eyes followed Rameel to the kitchen, I saw the aunt chatting with my cousin who'd gotten off the phone by now. It was a continuation of the same conversation taking place in the living room.
"Dono, Rehan bhi aur ab to uska chhota bhai Faizan bhi, dono hi apnay apnay apartments mein move ho gaye hain. Job bhi achi chal rahi hai dono ki. Ab soch rahay hain un ki shaadiyaan karwayein."
"Haan to karwa do," piped in my cousin off-handedly while washing the crayon off of a table napkin - the result of a sudden spark of artistic inspiration by her kid at dinner.
"Koi achi larki milay bas."
And then she looked straight at me.
:O
Okay. Time to move out. Before they hitch me with one of the rhyming brothers.
I got up, ran up to my room, and called up the girl I am moving in with soon.
"When are we moving in?"
"From the 1st. Bataya to tha."
"Jaldi nahi ho sakta?"
"Nahi, it's not available before that. And you haven't even looked at it. Don't you want to look at it first? Kab chalna hai?"
"No, that's okay. I don't want to look at it. I'll take your word for it."
"Hehe, okay. Kya hua, eik dam se itni jaldi kyun? I thought you were enjoying your stay at your cousin's."
"Yeah, well. Let's just say I have newfound respect for instant noodles again."
"What?"
"Nothing. I gotta go. Talk to you later."
"Bye."
I went downstairs again only after the guests had left. My cousin was cleaning up the kitchen.
"They left?" I asked innocently.
"Yeah. Magar 25th ki subah unhon ne breakfast pe bulaya hai hum sab ko. Aur tumhare liye bhi special invitation hai."
Uh-oh.
"Koun koun aayega wahan?"
"Bas hum hi."
"Okay."
Why do I not have a good feeling about this? :S
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