So Much to do…

I make lists. Then I make some more of them. I fill diaries with them. I recycle every paper I find into mini sized to do lists. I feel this is one of my biggest accomplishments. I have a field day at end of term. I have so many potential sources for new chits and lists. In the virtual world, I have refined my search to the point that I use two highly lovable apps: StyleNote and Multi List. And of course, reliable, amazing stickies for windows. I have read every word the developer has had to say about it. I recently turned to Excel for timetabling everything I have to do.

I should be the most productive person in the world, right? Writing down what I have to do gives me such an immense satisfaction that I start swimming in it, and in the haze of these comforting waters, I do the most random-est, most pointless stuff. Had my lists been actual humans somehow, I would have been beaten up and put in jail multiple times. (I still love you, my list-ies!)

Here is on of them:

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I decided that all the photo albums in my house need a revamp, even though I am sure they were dozing quite peacefully in the corner shelf, probably dreaming of their glorious past.

Not only did I spend God-knows how much time on sorting them by date, there were a few totally crappy pictures I found. Instead of burning them, I stuck them to my journal above in a pattern that has yet to make sense to me. However, whenever I look at it, all that I see is the creepy picture of some one I have no idea about. 😀

So if you know of any awesome apps for Windows or Android with clean, easy layouts and magical ENFORCEMENT options, let me know. 🙂

Back to Blogging

what-if-all-everybody-needed-in-the-world-was-to-be-sure-of-one-friend

I was looking at the last post I wrote, and it seems decades ago that I did. It’s like watching yourself through someone else’s eyes. There is a dizzying feeling of deja vu. And then, a complete blackout.

Then, I was struggling with my studies in the final year of my BS. I was hopeful of new things afterwards. Excitement at being a real adult? LOL. It is exciting to be moving towards independence: Making your decisions about your life. Studying more. Learning a new language. Going places. Tutoring younger kids.  But it is kind of ouch that I can’t hide behind my mother anymore.

Actually, scratch that. As the mother of a quintessentially good Pakistani girl, my mom is the one determined to finish off training me to be a responsible adult, in and outside my home. I swear to God, enrolling in the military would be nicer (I hear you, PMA cadets, but still). But irked as I am, always having been the most loved of my parents, I am grateful that my mom is pushing me to explore boundaries I never would have.

Because you see, I wouldn’t mind being called adventurous, dynamic and outgoing but voila! I am the biggest complacent couch potato if left to my own devices. I’ll happily live through others eyes, hence my love of reading. My horror for conflicts leaves me firmly in the position of a moderator. Or else, I hide in my room till every storm has passed. So here is how it usually goes with my mom these days:

“Go on, learn driving and pass your test in the first attempt and don’t fail me”. As in dare to take a day off from driving school and you are finished.

“Check the salt and masala in your Handi yourself .” The biggest horror for me, I am officially convinced there is something off with my taste buds.

“Be more efficient,hurry hurry hurry.”  (Mom, I am a natural daydreamer. I can’t help it)

“Think proactively for God’s sake.” Example: Get up early and make breakfast for everyone instead of getting your breakfast in bed. Still working on this one, and actually, this is the only luxury I demand: Give me a good breakfast and I’ll do whatever you want all day.

“Go get the misspelled name on your language certificate corrected first thing tomorrow. What are you sitting around waiting for?” Hint: I am tired of it because hello! All my life, misspelled name!

“Dress as a responsible adult. You aren’t a teen anymore. Prepare well ahead of time. If I see you running around minutes before we are due to leave…..” The unspoken: I have my eyes on you, young lady. Your privileges in life are on the line: No Wi-Fi, no allowance, no cuddling up.

“Lack of concentration.” This phrase is the bane of my life. If I hate anything, this is it.

“Get up for the morning walk with me, you are too lazy.” Every day for the past 10 years. This is testimony to how constant I am.  I do go. sometimes. Twice a month. Maybe

“Get a job or start a business. Work your own way up. Be your own boss.” Like mom, I am an engineer with zero aptitude for business? But yeah, my current hobby: Job hunting.

So I think as annoyed and deflated I feel sometimes, I love my mom to bits. She is never loud or boisterous, her warnings have humour, her jokes, albeit at my expense, have heart and her eyes have a mischievous glint (If incidentally that is not the case, I run for my life. No kidding). She tells me constantly I can do whatever I set my mind to do. She tells me to control my own life.

I end up being half as hip and outgoing and sensible as she is, I’ll be the happiest woman alive. Yeah, but I might not tell her that just yet. Wish me luck y’all. 🙂

 

Let the wait be over

In the Moonlight

When someones life changes drastically, we are curious to know what was the big ‘incident’ or shock that changed that person. It is always like that. Either we wait for something horribly shocking to change our lives, or we wait for later, until later turns into later again,and then it is near the time of our death. Allah says in the Holy Quran:

“Do they [then] wait for anything except that the angels should come to them or your Lord should come or that there come some of the signs of your Lord? The Day that some of the signs of your Lord will come no soul will benefit from its faith as long as it had not believed before or had earned through its faith some good. Say, “Wait. Indeed, we [also] are waiting.” (Al-An’am 158)

When either death is near, or any of the signs of Qiyamah are…

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Reality of what the Heart is

In the Moonlight

Allah has said about the Holy Quran that is revealed in Arabic, a clear language.

And indeed, the Qur’an is the revelation of the Lord of the worlds.The Trustworthy Spirit has brought it down. Upon your heart, [O Muhammad] – that you may be of the warners -In a clear Arabic language. [Al-Suara 192-196].

I never felt more strongly how clear the Arabic language is until I came across the word Qalb, which means heart in Arabic. Qalb literally means something that keeps on turning and changing, something that is not static.

And this surprised me so much, the heart or the Dil is just that in out language. It simply means an organ that pumps the blood. But this blew me away.

The heart never stays in the same state. The spark you once had in love, and the warmth in a friendship, it changes, twists and turns with time…

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Newbie Noise

For the first time, when I heard about blogging, I was naturally curious. So when it was explained to me it is a kind of an online journal, I was HORRIFIED! “What? An online journal as in all the secrets I vowed to keep buried deep in my heart, on display on the internet. ”, toss in the cautionary tales of “kids, the internet is not a safe place to be.” It seemed unbelievable why anyone would want to spill all her “state secrets” in this land. When I duly voiced my opinion, a patient and somewhat exasperated reply paid tribute to my dramatics: “honey, a blog can be about anything, any interest, hobby or an issue one feels strongly about”.  After pondering over it as much as a thirteen year old possibly can, I relaxed. “So, it’s a way to say what I think?” “Yup, you got it,” was the relieved answer. The details since then and my twenty-something years now, are a bit fuzzy. 😀 but as a penance, I have considered myself one of the lazier species of the mankind ever since.

Now, I’d brag, the brilliant idea of becoming a blogger myself suddenly hit me like a ton of bricks one day, or less crudely put, a light bulb flashed red, orange and neon above my head. Nopes, that SO did not happen! Like a tiny, budding flower with little hopes of seeing the sunshine,it  bloomed late! Ah! Doesn’t that sound divinely poetic? After a bit prodding and persuading here and there, I finally put my foot down. “Hey you! Yes you the laziness bestowed onto me, you aren’t going to interfere.” Then, to celebrate, I pumped my fists, said my Bismillah’s and sat down.

“This is going to be easy peasy, I’ll simply have to provide an email, username, password”. After the three checks, I stopped. The new post field was staring expectantly at me. After a few minutes of a silent staring contest between me and the laptop screen, I was confronted with a moment of uncertainty (and revelation as Anne would put it). “What should I write? What is the most important thing for to write? ”, and then finally, the big one hit me, “Oh my god? Who am I?”

Shoving my laptop aside, I looked up at the ceiling. The slowly whirling fan seemingly hypnotized me since it could not have been the other way round. Somewhere from far away, the whistle of the train of thought blew. My heart leapt at the silent promise of salvation. “International issues? No, too serious. Political drama? Well, plenty of blogs there. Fashion? Hey, I couldn’t afford the lawsuit fee if a mislead person decided to sue me.” The cars of the trains passed. I tried to peer and discern THE ONE, you know, the kind furnished with oriental painting and cushy cushions. I would board and explore it and leave with a shining first blog post. Sadly, the train left a whirl of dust behind, leaving me sputtering and shouting instructions for it to come back, all in vain. My dear readers, its desertion left a burning desire for revenge. I was ready. When everything is a lost cause, the black *cough* hatred is what keeps the likes of me going, the other category being the mystifyingly angelic I-love-you-all’s.

Having decided the path I had to traverse, I stomped up to my sister. “Sister dear, I need a good name for my blog,” and hence started a volley of insults and giggles at each suggested name with each getting more and more ridiculous. Finally, the image of a poor baby blog looking up at me with its (imaginary) wide and near-tear eyes conjured up a sudden vision. I was the ice queen, condemning the birds to stay silent, the flowers to stop blooming and of course the bees to stop buzzing. “I shalt coat all the nectar with frost to unleash my revenge on this world”. As a result, a new blog was named and it rose from all the wrath and fury of the injustices it had suffered, even though at heart, it believes love and kindness are better weapons after all. (It seems to me it is highly ungrateful after all that I have done :D)

So, here’s my first foray into blogging. Stay tuned for more!