Down Again

I've been away for some time now. Don't have my PC here. Still haven't found a place for myself so I'm getting on the nerves (I think, they deny) of the people I'm living with (very good family friends).

There's no Internet access for us (as in the new hires) for now and I don't want to be caught on blogger in the office anyway.

It's been tiring but fruitful. I'm learning new things. They're not just about the workplace but generally so much. I feel like a small town girl (not a good feeling) but I'm integrating (or pretending to?) quite well.

Of course, among all the great big positives that should make one feel like flying is that one nagging little negative that brings one down.

I'm coming close to the date of 1 year and the dread that's unfolding in my heart feels palpable in the night, when I've only got my thoughts to sleep with.

It's too bad that I can't go anywhere because I've to follow the rules of the house I live in. Living here hasn't been bad but I've discovered some things, which I had rather not.

Sometimes I feel like I'll throw up with the burden of secrets I have to keep now.

I'm beginning to hate myself a little again.

As I think about the one year anniversary coming up, I can't help but go over all the mistakes I made. Dumb mistakes, stupid, childish mistakes.

On the other hand, I've realized that if someone didn't want something, they'd reject it just because they didn't want it no matter how perfect it was. You might try to point out mistakes in that perfect thing, just for your satisfaction that perhaps you didn't do it right but it's not that.

Life is presenting me with unprecedented difficult choices and I'm as confused as you Mother. In fact, I know you're more confused than I am or ever could be.

You still asked me if I missed him. I don't know how to thank you for all your kindnesses. I can't ever thank you enough. I can't even begin to thank you for forgiving me so easily.

You are my mother and you love me and we fight with each other and you still love me.

He wasn't my mother. He couldn't stay. His mother is not you, mother. No one's mother is you, mother.

I miss you but when I'm with you, I hide in my shame.

My heart dies every time I can't say it out loud that I'm dying and I'm sorry I didn't tell you.

Tonight when I saw this picture from a Christmas party, shining, smiling faces, it made my heart wither. I go like a widow in this life.

I wonder why?

Why can't I feel anything when someone looks at me nicely? Nothing in me responds anymore. I've died before my actual death.

When I think how all that will come down on you mother, it kills me more. I never want you to forgive me because I neither deserve forgiveness nor love. I don't deserve kindness. I deserve all the punishment I can get. I deserve the burdens of people's secrets. I deserve the coldest and the hottest hell fires.

Sometimes by my stupid mistakes, I find that no one cares and I don't know why I get hurt. I know that but every time I find it again, I get hurt all over again.

You care mother. You care.

No one else does. I'm not their anything.

Why do I care then if it's so simple?

Maybe I'm just mad.

I'm hoping that the act of making cauliflower with the utmost love and affection would get me a punishment that's unbelievable. Cauliflower that he didn't like.

Did I repel him? My air? Perhaps my everything.

So may nothing of me be left in this world. The repulsive being be gone from this world, far far away.

Mother, I only hope that you will forgive me.

Kidney for Sale!

So it's okay to sell my kidney now if I want to get something that I need.

It's not a thing that I ever thought of but thanks for giving me this great idea. Better use whatever I can before it becomes redundant.

Since I can sell a kidney and survive on one, nothing wrong with selling blood either. Too bad my blood does not benefit anyone because I'm sick but since it's not even dangerous, I think it should be okay.

Come to think of it, you can grow a liver with just a piece. So I guess, that's another thing I can sell: a piece of my liver.

Selling all this 'stuff' wouldn't put anyone in jeopardy. I think there will still be much left for my organ donation when I die.

Eyes, heart and God knows what else.

I suppose it's a win win situation if ever a person saw one. Thank you for this excellent idea. I salute your genius and kindness.

Lost Lamb

After spending a week in Lahore, I came back home for the Eid holiday. There's no doubt in my mind, at least for now, that I made a good decision and that I have a good job.

But there's something wrong. It went wrong when I moved to England.

Tonight I want to admit to myself that I didn't move for studies but moved for love.

I made a fool out of myself and I lost myself.

Something went wrong. I stopped being with my friends; I stopped responding. I didn't want to. I didn't even realize if I did or didn't.

I thought I'd found some direction but I became directionless. I thought I discovered myself but I lost so much that I can not ever recover, least of all the time that has slipped through my fingers.

I didn't build myself a hermitage but I did live in one. I drifted so aimlessly that it's going to take me some time to find myself.

I lost my home.

I lost and lost and lost.

I didn't even gain any significant wisdom, just bitterness and a thought that I would not be loving again.

More thoughts that I would never have children. The thought of them abhors me and I love them and want to protect them but my own children shall never be.

For a brief period of time, I felt like a woman. I wanted to be settled, I wanted to have kids. That was like a big stain on my mind. I don't know how I removed that stain. I'll never have children.

Someone might force me to get married but no one will ever be able to force me to have children.

I drifted like a ghost in the world's busiest city. I wept stupidly on the bank of the Thames. I wanted to jump in but I didn't want to ruin my expensive business suit.

I wondered if I was just making excuses to continue a stupid existence.

I still wonder.

I didn't use so many I's then because I was gone and it seems now as if someone else controlled me.

Whom had I become then? How did I reach that place?

I lost myself with help but ultimately it was I that lost me.

Sitting lost on New Street Station, weeping quietly and looking for that one familiar face, which I would never find, I was like a lamb. The guards looked into my eyes and so wouldn't confront me.

No one acknowledges lost lambs. There's no one to lead a lamb anymore.

So I'm in a new big city. I'm still lost. I think I've found my anchor by seeing so many things in the first week that told me to be a child.

Be a stupid child and something inside me told me to pray or else I'll be lost forever. I can crawl on all four and walk blind but at least be in the right direction.

Something is telling me to find my faith and maybe that will give me legs to stand on again.

Everything is wrong and I'm not going to try to make it right anymore because I can't.

I don't know if I can ever be sure that I was the only one in love but nowadays, I suddenly discover something and it tells me that I was.

I'm standing somewhere and I'm fine and then I'll start crying and realize I was never loved but something wants me to say it out loud that at least you've been loved. I was the one who loved you.

Now I don't know what love is. I'm confused and I tell myself that maybe I did not.

I blame myself because I get confused. I didn't do this or I didn't do that. Maybe I should have ruined myself further and put myself through more trials than I did. Maybe then I wouldn't be an image of the person I used to be.

I'm not sure at all anymore. I know that I forgave but I don't know if I'll ever forgive myself.

I don't think I can, when I murdered my dreams in connivance with the person who claimed to love me.

All I know is that I'm still a lost lamb. What I don't know is if I'm a lamb lost forever and for good or if I can be found.

I feel bad for the lost lamb that is me. Between pot smokers and acid trippers and drinkers and people who think they're prostitutes and people to whom I've to prove that I'm asexual, I feel like I will reach new heights of madness...

If only I start praying again, I won't.

The only thing that stops me is the fear of finding myself.

And the thought of the fear when I stop loving you.

Because when I do stop loving the fool that I loved is the day I will lose the small fight for life I've got left in my bones. My lungs won't ache with the effort to draw in life.

The fear is because I don't want to die. I haven't even felt loved.

I wish you would have loved me. I begged you, I think, I did.

Too bad it doesn't matter anymore.

I wanted to be like you and maybe a part of me will. I enjoy the fantasizing about exercising power over people who are fools like I used to be; people who think they're going to get me like someone actually did.

Lost lamb or should I be lost wolf in sheep's clothing? So I need faith to help me. I need faith to stop me from being a monster that I love and loathe because I won't have the same feelings if the monster is me.

I'm asking for faith.

So please God, return me to my faith. Today, I'm begging You for Your love.

I was wrong to beg stupid humans. They're all like me. Forgive me and grant me that I love only You. Protect me from sin and help me to not hurt anyone.

Take my life sooner if I ever come near to hurting someone like I was.

Lead the lost lamb to Your mercy and love.

Lead the lost lamb to Yourself God.

Save my soul and spread the dust of my body everywhere so that it touches your dust and mixes with it finally and try as you might, you can't separate it from yourself.

I loved you more than my life and gave what wasn't mine to give; perhaps being lost is punishment and perhaps I should take it.

The only thing that I ask for again is to have my soul saved because it used to belong to a good person even if that person is dead.

I'm leaving because you want me to go

Something I wrote in '97. Full of teenage angst but I read it after so many years and though it meant something else back then it's taken a real meaning to me now. Nothing poignant here. Just lots of passive aggressive anger (I feel quite so nowadays).

You don't have to say with your mouth
Because your eyes are speaking.
You don't have to say it in words
all that's on your mind;
I know you want me out.
You ask me why I'm going away?
I'm leaving because you want me to go.
I'm leaving because (I know
how much) you hate me.
I never took it to my heart
whatever you said
Because I always thought
that you might always be right.
I made myself believe all the time
that I was wrong.
Yes, I was wrong. I think I was.
But just about myself.
You ask why I'm leaving now?
I'm leaving because you want me to go.
I'm leaving because (I know
how much) you hate me.
When I used to see you grieve
My heart would burn and bleed.
I would feel like it was my pain.
But I guess your feelings for me
were washed away in the rain.
Or I guess
that they just weren't there before.
So now I can't
waste my life with you anymore.
You ask then why I'm going away?
I'm leaving because you want me to go.

Hair there, everywhere; goodbye!

So after thinking about it for quite some time, I've decided I need to cut my hair as it's not going to last anyway. I know I'm going to actually cry and weep over it once the deed is done. I've had long hair since I was 7. It's a been a good journey.

I always used to think about cutting my hair when I was angry. True to my tradition of taking all the anger on my body, this was the first thing I used to do. I always used to say, okay, calm down and if you still think you need to cut them then go ahead. Obviously, I didn't.

So I'm feeling so weird. I thought I should take a picture of them for posterity. I asked my brother (bless his sweet little heart) to take a picture of them and he did, though he kept saying it was a bit difficult to get them all into the viewfinder. So I allowed him to arrange them as he pleased, which obviously he didn't do too well.

Nonetheless, looking at the pictures later is going to make me feel weird as it is now. I'm also going to change the color though the stylist I consulted said the natural color was great and looking at it, it's really appealing to my eyes but I've told myself that I'm not going to make anymore excuses. I've noticed that my eyelashes have started to fall as well. It was the weirdest thing. I still don't know how to feel about it. I hope that I will die with dignity.















My almost 3 feet long mane














The color and the shape

So tomorrow by this time, they'll be gone. Bye bye my poor hair. Maybe they'll make a nice hairpiece out of it for some rich dude or lady. Who knows? If they had some donation service, I'd donate it but now it will go to the salon and I'm sure they'll really enjoy it.

The world is going mad with terrorist attacks and there are so many bad things but this evening I'm selfish and I just need to feel sorry for myself, just a little bit.

Take Her to the Christmas Dance

Inflections in your voice say you don't mean it. When you're steady, you're lying still.

When you want to act dumb, you ruffle your hair. What an endearing habit. How cute! I'm to forget that your eyes are scrutinizing me for weaknesses.

Your fingers try to find fissures and cracks, some hole to break open wider. When you don't find it, you get frustrated and leave me exposed and broken.

There's an opening in me but it's not normal because its not at the bottom.

It's right in the middle. How did you miss the gaping hole in me?

Like a black hole, it sucks the sunlight out of every sun and then eats it whole.

Just like my soul, going through spasmodic damnation.

How I hate these pockmarked surfaces, so then I wonder why I loved your face. I despise holes because they remind me of the emptiness.

No holes in my body but the one in the wrong place, right in the middle. A place where my soul used to be.

Extinguished, though not like the lights at dawn but like a life snuffed. Nip the evil in the bud, they say but the evil was left and the best and biggest part of me is gone.

No blazes of glory.

No fireworks.

No marching bands.

No gun salutes.

No mourning.

No dancing. No rejoicing.

So much silence. Such madness.

The morning, that short morning ended so suddenly.

I waited for night but it's always evening now. No one saw where the sun set. No one knows where the sun is. No one knows where the first ray of sunlight has gone.

The last ray is etched on my retina forever and ever and ever.

I prayed for it to end well.

It's ended. I don't know about well.

18. 11. 2008

Postscript: my name has a number of meanings and one of it is 'the first ray of sunlight' among others. No sunlight if there's no sun.

Untitled

God, take my soul but don't put it into the flames of the hellfire. May this body perish as it would but may the soul live as it should.

God, renew my blackened heart. Remove the dark shadow of doubt from my soul. Make it pure as it was the day I was made.

God, help me in slaying the monster that has taken my body for its home. Shield my soul from its corrupting influence.

God, make me the guardian of my honor and be the Guardian of my soul. Help me root out the infestation of hopelessness.

16. 11. 2008

And so...

...I finally came to a decision.

I had to but what drove me to the proper conclusion of my life's chapters until this point were a few things and I like to give credit where it's due.

First, I thankfully signed into blogger this morning right before I had to make a big commitment and here was a comment on my previous blog from Tuishimi (would I be wrong in saying he's a great friend?) and I realized that I did have to lay it all out on the table for me. I had to think about myself as long as it didn't hurt anyone.

Then a few things happened and I knew for sure what I had to do. I wasn't feeling confused; I wasn't feeling like the world was imploding beneath me anymore.

There comes a time in one's life when one has to make a choice and it's not just for oneself but also for others because one thing that I've learnt in life is that our choices do affect others whether we accept that or not.

There comes a time in one's life when one has to leave everything behind and start over/anew or just plain start somewhere.

This opportunity couldn't have come at a better time.

I feel sorry to say this now but for a couple of months, I've been planning to end everything before new year's eve. The low points (no singulars here) that I'd hit, not even snagging a bottom or at least something that would help me not slip off further was just not happening.

Self pitying and self loathing became so commonplace, it was just like second nature. Not wanting to do anything and waiting for someone to come and change my world was all I did do (because in the first instance, it did change for worse due to people; but on the other hand, I wonder how and why I gave them such complete rights over myself that it had to come to that).

It's not easy to want to end ones life. Planning it is even worse. I realized this morning that if I wanted to live beyond this December, wanted to not be a part of the non coveted 27 club, then I just had to make a change.

I also feel like I've burdened everyone with my presence far too long and it's time to give others a time out as well. The way I am right now, even I don't want to be near myself. I don't expect any better from my family, friends or the people in general.

I suppose it boosted my confidence to find out that I'd been called for an interview at a great company. Then I got a further ego boost when I got the job offer the very next day.

The only problem was whether I should or could move to another city especially a city that people from my city consider as a fast, heathen city full of sins and colors. Ah! Lahore, the city of my childhood, the cultural capital of Pakistan, the centre of modern drug usage for the refined.

So much negativity: where are you going to live; good for you; good on you; it's too far; why don't you teach, it's safe for 'ladies' (so condescending) ad infinitum ad nauseum.

Such a storm in my mind. So much conflict of interests for everyone else except me. It's about me but I don't figure anywhere. It becomes about everyone else's ego. Relatives from Karachi to Gilgit, from Massachusetts, USA to Birmingham, UK weigh in on it.

Then I read the message and I thought, this is nothing if not from God and God does channel through His people.

Being the least superstitious person in the world, I don't look for signs but today I did and I found them in places where I wasn't even looking.

I've said yes and soon I leave this city of love and hate.

Maybe things will be worse or maybe they'll be better or maybe they'll be the same but I won't be here to bother anyone and I won't have things bothering me. The nomad soul is restless anyway.

I won't have to turn corners thinking here's this memory and that. Worst of all, I'm too weak physically and emotionally to take anymore emotional abuse from things, people and (even) inanimate objects.

Never wanted to commit suicide, no. Never wanted to go like a coward and a fool.

Perhaps, now is my chance to redeem that never again.

So Confused

I'm so confused. I don't know what to do.

Do right by myself (which I never do) for once or do right by everyone else and be sorry like always?

I wish it were that simple.

I'm so confused I could kill myself to end it all. My hands have this itch, extending all the way to the tips of my finger. The golden revolver with the ivory is so near, so very near. End it all and no confusion.

I just don't know what to do.

Help me.

Get Your Filthy Hands Off My Desert

Or How Green Was My Valley

So I'm going to Lahore tomorrow and I think it might be for good. Last time I went there alone like this, it was also a contemplative journey but I knew I'd come back. Not so sure this time.

Before I go and God knows when I'll be back, I just wanted to comment on how things are steadily going downhill in the city where I live. The city of Peshawar. Last night, we could hear the bombs falling.

On 12th November, Stephen D. Vance and his driver were slain by terrorists. A day before that an Iranian diplomat was kidnapped just as he was leaving his house. His driver was slain in the kidnapping. On 13th, journalists were fired at by terrorists.

Terrorists. Terrorists. Terrorists.

I've had it with all this. Somedays I wish I could give them the same. Say, come get some. The civilized part of me says how can you lower yourself to their level but the human part says, why? You can't talk to animals. You may train them but they're still animals.

The powers that be don't care about these animals and what they do to us. They're off on their fancy trips to New York or Hajj in the Kingdom (oh God) of Saudi Arabia or begging for oil and money, none of which will trickle down to the stupid masses.

How am I supposed to accept that these people are Muslims (even in name) when they don't accept the basic tenet of Islam that is tolerance?

On the other hand, no amount of condemnation will bring Stephen back to his wife or children. The poor driver, his kids and wife are going to be the worst. Fucking cursed Pakistanis. We're all cursed.

If you don't shake it off yourselves, no one's coming to help you take it away. You won't help yourself though. Just sit, drink your tea with 3 spoons of sugar and tsk! tsk! about how nice it used to be.

You've left nothing for me, for my generation.

Put us on a ship and sink it.

We can't take it anymore.

Bath

Our story takes place in the ancient city of Bath, when the Romans were setting up the foundation of the modern city... not really. The city is ancient but it's eponymous ancient baths are under the trademark yellow cobblestones and pubs and shops.



Still, if you turn a corner, you might suddenly feel you saw Rome and then it vanished just like that.




I visited Bath at the beginning of this year with a Chinese friend of mine, as part of the University's annual trip program for students. It was just a day trip, most of which was spent traveling to and from Nottingham, so I just got to see the usual touristy places (something I don't enjoy but being a poor student, had to contend with).

It was drizzling when we got there and got colder and colder. Bath is a city to visit only when its sunny. Otherwise, due to all the limestone, it seems dreary and drab (err...).

Still, going with the mood, I don't think I missed the sun too much except when it got colder and colder.

It was somewhat difficult to take decent photographs as well and not just due to the rain but also because it was too busy, including the fact that the camera was borrowed as I didn't have a camera while I was in the UK.

This reminds (I'd forgotten to mention it in the York post) me to thank the Malaysian friend, who not only lent me her camera but also gave me a chance to visit York. The poor kid couldn't go and insisted I go in her stead. Thanks to her generosity, I not only visited York but it also pushed me to forget my finances for a while and just go see a few places before I left; though the only other place I saw after that was Bath (the last one before coming back).

Will post more pictures later.

Breakfast in Bed

Have tea and your
headache is gone.

your breakfast is ready,
honey and naan.

don't lick my fingers
We have 2 bottles and
a pot full of honeycombs.

stinky mouth, sticky mouth
all is fair in love
and morn.

by the way a woman called,
she says she loves you.

Solitude

A poem that I (sort of) quote in many of my blog entries as well as in other writings, Solitude has been a favorite but unfortunately, I didn't know all the lines nor the author's name. So I thought I should google the lines and I came up with Ella Wheeler Wilcox. Here's the poem. How it fits the whole life scenario! Especially mine, right now.

Solitude

Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone.
For the sad old earth must borrow it's mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own.
Sing, and the hills will answer;
Sigh, it is lost on the air.
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care.

Rejoice, and men will seek you;
Grieve, and they turn and go.
They want full measure of all your pleasure,
But they do not need your woe.
Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad, and you lose them all.
There are none to decline your nectared wine,
But alone you must drink life's gall.

Feast, and your halls are crowded;
Fast, and the world goes by.
Succeed and give, and it helps you live,
But no man can help you die.
There is room in the halls of pleasure
For a long and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on
Through the narrow aisles of pain.

-Ella Wheeler Wilcox

How true! How true! But dying is really an act that must be carried alone as is birth. You might be surrounded by people but you are born alone and you die alone.

And sometimes, you even live alone. So I guess it shouldn't bother to make the final transition alone as well.

Die Taliban Die!

So it happens what I'd been fearing for quite some time now.

This morning's newspaper had a really beautiful picture of the inter-provincial games that were being held for the past few days in my city. These games were special for this hellish city as sportswomen participated freely from all over the country. A couple of years back the radicals had banned women from participating in sports in my city (not the rest of the country)(augh!).

So this photograph showed sportswomen engaged in an excellent game of volleyball.

Even since I'd come back, I'd known and felt that things were much worse in the country overall but worst in the province and my city and it was proven when there were major scale operations in the suburbs (!). Then the terrorists blew up an electricity grid, not just once but 3 times and the same one each time. Needless to say, it was horrible but nothing sort of what happened today had happened but I think most people anticipated it in a horrible way and it was only a matter of time.

To make a statement (of fear) as well as to target innocent people (as usual), the terrorist taliban blew up a car at about 1755 hrs Pakistan time, in front of the stadium's gates where the closing ceremonies for the games were being held. It happened just as the fireworks started.

So far, it's being said that 3 people have lost their lives and as many as 10 are in the hospital with serious injuries. My prayers are with them.

I wish I could do something but all I can say (and mean) is that we're not scared. Taliban, you're not Muslims, you do not follow the religion of Islam.

If you think you're going to heaven and get your virgins or whatever, you're wrong. If you think that God is just going to just let you in, you're wrong.

You murdered many of the people's leaders (we might not agree with them but we don't murder them), you killed innocent people who were just breaking their fasts, you murdered innocents, you displaced 1000s and turned them into homeless refugees in their own country, you made the whole world think we're responsible for your crimes, you made the world make us suffer much torment, because of you, bombs were rained on innocents, you made us lose our policemen, you made us lose thousands of our army men, you made a generation of orphans and widows.

Go back to the part of hell where you came from! Go back to hell, you bloody animals! Die! Die! Die!

I never curse anyone but may hellfire rain on these "$%+@#. Die assholes! May you all have a fire in your arsenal of suicide bombs and go to hell en masse and good riddance that would be. Hope you find your demonic virgins in hell.

P.s. I'd posted this earlier but took it down because I thought I needed to cool down.

Medicines Galore

I'm taking so many drugs now that it feels like I have a mini dispensary in my room.

Trying and Failing

I tried not to but I did and now I'm feeling so stupid. I also realized today that I'm actually a little bit mad, as in crazy mad. Not a very positive self discovery.

All day long, I tried to beat off these feelings of I have to. I told myself, no, I won't, because I knew I would end up feeling hurt because I'd been a fool. Here I am. I made a fool out of myself. I knew I wouldn't get a response and end up making an ass out of myself yet again. Anyone else would've killed themselves after being insulted so much, including being insulted by themselves.

I wish I could make myself understand that it's useless to love someone who doesn't love you back. I wish I could just give up on everything and life as well. I hate to fight anymore but I go on fighting.

I try, I fail.

Reminders

I have this reminder service from Hallmark, which reminds me about holidays and birthdays (obviously).

As I just got online, I got this reminder about a birthday and it said it was xyz murgha's (murgha=rooster, just a nickname) birthday and hopefully I hadn't forgotten. Well, I couldn't have been able to if I'd tried, not that I did.

In any case, I'm beginning to hate these reminder services. What are they for anyway? Just to give you a guilt trip about things you want to forget or things you forgot. Huh!

Anyway, since there's nowhere to send a card anymore, I'm just going to send it to myself and pretend the person for whom it was intended is going to open it (am I turning into a psychonut? do I need a nutcracker?), then open it and pretend that the person is right there. I'm going to pretend that I was told that I was loved for this gesture.

Last night, I even thought that if things were like they are in a parallel universe, then I would've gotten monogrammed cuff links. Nifty, eh? But I know that last years present and card are still here and so am I.

That's what you get if you just imagine love. It's all in your head, which obviously makes you a nutter.

I've even planned a pretend birthday party. Obviously, the person's not going to show up but I'm just going to pretend they got stuck in traffic and wait.

Well, at least I'm going to be there and declare my love freshly.

Happy birthday, it's 10th November in the country of your birth.

Happy Birthday

You ruined my trip but that was okay.

Then you ruined my life.

That wasn't.

In the end, everything's okay if you are. Others don't matter. Others like me. So have a very happy birthday. Hope you have a great day and a great life. Your life's good and hope it stays so.

Too much to Reject, Nothing to Accept

1. You have a fat neck.

2. You're too short.

3. You're not fair complexioned.

3. You can't cook that like my sister does.

4. My sister can cook everything.

5. My sister even knows how to cook xyz.

6. You have body hair but my sister doesn't.

7. You're too old.

8. Nobody knows you.

9. Nobody knows your parents.

10. You don't smell like my mother.

11. Girls like you can never be accepted by anyone.

12. Your smell stinks.

13. My parents can't accept you.

14. You're fat.

15. You're simply not like my mother.

16. You don't believe the same bullshit I do.

17. You're different.

18. I am unable to mould you to all my expectations.

19. It's not your fault; it's mine.

20. My sister is just better at everything.

21. I don't like the way you dress.

22. I'm too young.

23. I'm just a little kid.

24. Your breasts are too big.

25. Your butt is too big.

26. You're just too big.

27. You're not what I expected.

28. You just can't turn yourself into what I want you to be.

29. You're boring.

30. I can't talk to you about anything.

31. You look like a little girl.

32. You look like a man.

33. You're too much to handle.

34. You're not woman enough.

35. You're manly.

36. You're not like the women I know.

37. You're a eunuch.

38. You don't wear make up.

39. You don't think like women.

40. You're dumb.

41. You're a sinner.

42. Everything is your fault.

43. You whine all the time.

44. You're not up to my parents standards of perfection.

45. Your face is fat and ugly.

46. Your hands are too small.

47. I can't have children with a woman like you.

48. Your daughter is going to be lose like you.

49. You're a pig.

50. You're just not good enough for me.

Epic Win!

Obama has won.

I can go to sleep now.

With Bated Breath

So November 4th is on us. Those that are in the USA and able to vote should and must vote. Though it sounds cliched and somewhat dumb but you hold the world's fate in your hands. At least I'm watching with bated breath for people to make the right decision.

Of course, some of the things that I've been reading lately are so disappointing and feel like they're coming from illiterates or people who get their news from gossip only. I know that if I lived in the USA, my dad would be voting for McCain, if Palin wasn't his running mate.

On the other hand, I know the rest of the family would be voting for Obama. The thing, though, is that many in the USA think that Obama is a communist and a Muslim and terrorist etc.

Some might say a family like ours would support him because he's a Muslims. As a Muslim (okay, not a good one), I assure you that there's no secret follower thing in Islam. You can't be a Muslim secretly. Obama is not a Muslim if he says he's not. It matters not if his father was but if he isn't then he isn't.

Most importantly, I didn't know that being a Muslim was a. a sin, b. a crime c. a slur. Also, if I'm not wrong, by the Jefforsonian edict, religion is not important and this has also been enshrined in the US constitution. I'm sure there are many other Americans who may be called pagans by some, are also voting for Obama.

The other thing is very basic and I don't understand why people who are living right there in America don't know (or don't want to?). It is that the US Secret Service does extensive background checks on candidates etc. and so does the RNC and the Democratic Party.

It's true that in the beginning of any movement, it's the charisma that attracts but as that wears off, it's the character and the substance.

I read this open letter from someone claiming to be from the red states wanting to separate from the blue states (God forbid) because they supported Obama and said that they could keep all the black people. Another one was from a business owner who is going to fire all the Obama supporters in his organization if Obama wins. (Legally, it would just put him up for suits).

I get it about communism. It's all the leftovers from the McCarthy era but I don't get the racism and the hatred. I read things like it's not about race but in the same sentence, the person would mention the color of Obama's skin or something to that effect.

I want to tell these people that you have freedom. You have freedom of speech, freedom to own, freedom to not own as well and the freedom to live and die as you want. There are many in this world, and I'm one of them to be sure, who don't have this thing called freedom.

One, don't abuse this freedom and two, don't take it for granted.

How can someone give up beautiful freedom and rights because someone's pumping them with venom? You have the most resources. Use these to build your knowledge, get information. Don't make decisions based on racist attitudes or hateful lies. In the end, USA is your country and though I know that it's not my country but I know that I've always deeply cared about it.

So wise up America and make the right choice. Make your supporters proud USA!

I'm the loser now

Four years ago, you told me that you were just a loser and in the quest to stop making you feel like one, I ended up being one myself.

You're not a loser anymore, so that's good, right?

Big Thanks to Your Wife

The best method of getting rid of daughters in our society is to fob them off on someone else by getting them married. Another method, though popular but not much used due to legal repercussions, is simply offing the daughters (yes, that means killing them in cold blood).

It's much cheaper too since marrying off a daughter costs more, much much more.

If you're somewhat educated and your daughter just can't be got rid off, you try to get her work.

Nothing wrong with this last approach except that sometimes the daughter wants to work in one field while the parents just want her to go into 'safe' jobs like teaching.

It's said that on average in a school year, sometimes there are 3-4 new teachers (this is not an official statistic, there's no research on this in Pakistan; what did you expect?) for the same subject since the last one is getting married.

So teaching is a safe job; you take it and when your parents have snagged you a good proposal, you just leave it. Screw the students of course.

Since most schools pay between Rs. 5-10k (about $60-100 a month) depending on the person's qualifications, they don't care either and also because there are just no regulations for teachers and schools. The ladies that go for this also don't care because they're getting what's sometimes known as make up or dowry or trousseau money.

I've heard so many older women say, but why don't you go teach! You could make some gold jewellery with the money you get...

I would get rich if I got a penny every time I've heard this. Screw you old ladies!

Then there are other safe things to do while you're waiting for prince charming to ride in on his high horse *ahem* like cooking/baking classes, or knitting and stitching classes etc. Of course, nothing wrong again with any of these things except if you're not interested in any of these and above all in marriage, then its just plain stupidity. I don't mind learning but doing things just because you're bored until you get hitched? I just never got it.

So I discovered that to my great dismay and to the increase of my killer depression that the biggest reason my parents wanted me to come back to godforsaken Pakistan was to get me married. Now I must say my parents have never been any of the above type.

Soon enough I found out why they'd turned into these people that I know even less. I'm writing about all of this today because of this small incident that happened on the phone today.

When I was coming back, unfortunately, due to my parents insistence (and other things that are better left unsaid at this time) and my health, I failed to communicate with my University. I was in the process of working on my dissertation and also preparing for exams in April.

I was told that I could take the exam from back home and get better than just go back. For my lonely and sick being, these were just the most golden words and I suppose when you're sick, most things would seem true. I'm not going to go into the fact that I was kind of tricked, which is sneaky and mean but if your parents are the ones being sneaky and mean, it's a hundred times worse, maybe more.

I knew that completing the dissertation in the butt end of the world that is Peshawar, Pakistan wasn't possible. I went for a subject, which is just now taking off in the rest of the world and most people have only heard about back home but I thought okay, I'll be coming back in a couple of months so no problem.

So, forward some 7 months and here I am, dissertation-less and very very directionless and with all these extremely bad thoughts in my mind (kill, maim, destroy: yourself).

As it is, it's not that easy to find a proposal for someone like me, not that I wanted one to be found. I've simply refused to get married all these years. The world's been after my parents and I since I was 14 years old. I didn't know that at that time but when I came to know, I realized why people feel strongly about things like that.

Anyway, here I was talking to one of my uncles, one of the many people whom my parents have forwarded my resume so they can 'help' me get a job. Thanks.

He's telling me I don't need to worry, just take my subject list to the interview I have tomorrow morning. I got a bit confused. A subject list? Yes. I didn't have one on me but I said I'll get it off my University's site. So he's like why the hell do you not have it on you? By now I understood he meant my degree and not a subject list. So I was like, I told you, I'm working on my dissertation so I don't have a degree per se.

There I heard it. He got mad at me. I just don't understand why you people come back without degrees? You really did wrong to come back without completing your studies. Whose going to give you a job like that?

It's not like I didn't know any of these things and I wish my parents would stop helping me this way because I really think I'm at the brink. If I don't die then I don't know if I won't kill myself soon. I was upset with all that. I said, we had a financial situation and I just couldn't stay there. Thanks again.

What I couldn't say and what's a big fact is that it's all thanks to his wife that I had to come back. The lady that put it in my mother's head and eventually in my father's head that I was just wasting my time and the best thing that anyone in this fucked up world could do for me was to find me a husband.

I don't like crying but since the past few years, it's become a habit. It's not easy for me to cry but I do cry. Lately though, it's getting harder. I felt like crying then and I felt like saying, you should've asked your wife. Thanks to her, the time that I wasn't home, she managed to make my younger sister's life miserable too by telling the same to my mother.

My parents are not above the blame but I can't blame them because there's this whole society made of 170 million people that puts pressure on them about what's wrong and right for their daughters or their kids.

I've never felt so stuck, so useless, so pitiable and self destructive as I did today. I just couldn't say, please thank your wife for me.

If I meet my uncle tomorrow, which is a possibility, I'll tell him that but I know I'll lose my nerve. I always say, no more miss nice girl but then I just can't.

Just end up hurting myself. So I still feel like I should weep or cry but I can't. It's just making me hoarse. Maybe I'm just a loser now.

Boo!

Happy Hallowe'en!

I'm missing last year when the best thing I got was mooning from a 10 year old for Halloween.

I was sitting at my desk, most probably playing a game and feeling lonely on the evening of 31st October, when I hear this bell at the kitchen door first and loud knocks on my window after that. At first I thought its my friend but she's such a scaredy cat, she just didn't get out after dark.

I push back the curtain and see these three boys ranging from 13-9 years. I'd seen at least one of them around the neighborhood on the way to the university and I always wondered why they were never at school. Nonetheless, at first I was surprised but then I thought it was most probably for trick or treating.

Just as I was thinking what exactly I could give these kids, one of them puts his back to the window and viola! lowers his pants and I see a pair of sickly white and red butt cheeks. Well, I couldn't say I've ever had such a halloween scare. Ever. Promise!

I wanted to laugh but seeing as they were just kids, I got a bit worried on their behalf and felt angry at their parents. I got angrier when they started beating the window really very hard with their fists and I thought ok, don't break it or I'll be whooping that ass pretty soon. Seeing as they weren't listening and I wasn't having a very hard time imagining the broken glass and our landlady's reaction, I picked up my cell phone and yelled, you go home or I'm going to call the police now!

Don't go all up in arms because it was just a joke. I pretended to dial 999 (British equivalent of 911) but knowing kids especially boys that age (I have a 13 year old brother so I should know), I knew they weren't taking me seriously. So there I went in my kiddy mode and said, wait until I bring the police to your house, I know where you live and I put on my worst face (my dragon face according to my second sister, another story for another time).

Suddenly the oldest of them just froze, the second one was like no she's kidding but I knew at least one of them had recognized me from my travels from the university to back home. Seeing the reaction, I said, don't worry, when I bring the Police, you'll know. By now, they'd also had a good look at my face and taking me seriously, they made a run for it.

So that was my trick and treat for last Halloween.

I needed to get this off my chest this Halloween because I'm still alone but worst of all I'm not there, where at least I had freedom.

I've this really bad sweet tooth right now, which just can't be satisfied, seeing as I don't have any candy.

But, worse than anything, I'll trade this for those moments. I'll trade this lonliness for that one any day. Sheesh, I still want candy. Gee, I'd even let those kids break the window, if only I could go back and stay.

In the end, it's just a question again of why I came back. I made a mistake when I left but I made the worst one when I came back. It's not like I don't like Pakistan, I do but I love my freedom most.

I had freedom and now it's gone. I miss it. I miss Halloween. I miss the late night wanderings and musings.

I miss myself.

Be Afraid of the BIG BLACK MAN!

Since I'd been away from home for a few days, I discovered the fun filled story of one Ashley Todd from Texas just today. I'm so amazed that there are people in this day and age in a place like USA, who still think that being anything but non-white makes you threatening. To think that people like Mcalin are going to rule (ahem) USA just makes my knees knock with fear. I'm not American but since America is my favorite country, let me just say that these things scare me and I'm scared for the people of USA. All this coming on the heals of a comment Palin made recently about fruit fly research being useless, just scares me witless.

So what would Palin have the scientists do? This coming from a woman whose country has made most of the innovations of the 20th century. No doubt America is slipping.

If half the population believes the bullshit these people are throwing at them, the other half should start praying for a miracle. As a member of this planet, I'm praying too. I've always imagined that if I have kids (an extremely big if), I'll settle in the USA. Now I'm having doubts. Land of the free? Not so much anymore.

Meanwhile, please don't be afraid of someone whose different from you just because their skin color doesn't match yours. Even animals are better than that.

All You Loved are Dead, All You Needed is Left Behind

Yesterday I heard you cry
and you wished you were dead.
When I asked you why,
you reminded me how you travelled
all the way from Geneva
to Karachi.

What, for something you imagined
and something you hoped for,
partly, which was such a yearning
as you had never known before?
but if you'd asked me
I would've told you.

All those I loved are dead
and all that I needed is left behind.

You're neither here nor there.
Isn't it the way I am?
Something I explained to you
last year when we had a late night talk.
You tried to suppress those tears
but they just wouldn't listen to you anymore.

You said I was kindred.
I don't know.
To know you as in a mirror
is fear.
The fear that you are there,
failed like me.

All those I loved are dead
and all that I needed is left behind.

When I was younger
my mother told me how people
laugh when you laugh
but don't cry with you.
But in misery, all is one,
now there's no one.

What more could I have told you?
Consoled you? Hold you?
There's nothing in me
unless you accept dustbunnies
of undead love.
You heard me right.

All those I loved are dead
and all that I needed is left behind.

You're repeated and repeated
through me, through you
through all of us.
You come back to remind me of misery.
Misery, I have embraced;
you, not so much, anymore.

Because in my heart is
such a violence that I never
knew was there before.
How I've seen the sky darken and cry.
I hurt when I lost my faith
I won't deny.

All those I loved are dead
and all that I needed is left behind.

I met you even years ago.
Sitting there in the cold darkness, laying tears
on dying embers
of the worst barbecue in history.
So I hugged you but I wasn't a man.
I still wonder what you want from me.

This dead body still wants to commend you
for reminding how it lost its battles,
again and again and again and again.
This is a game, I told you, there are no
winnings, so don't come to me.
Death is beating in me, here you are again.

All those I loved are dead
and all that I needed is left behind.

If you want your wounds to be
scratched deeper than they are,
why come to me when
the lotus of love is still blooming inside.
You're worshipping death on the side,
just in case.

Don't come over to my side
and tell me I'm your mirror;
when yearnings are still burning your insides.
If you're still thirsty
don't ask, I'm only a desert,
it's only a mirage.

海で失われ

This was my first poem (on my dA page), which is unstructured. I am calling it lost at sea because it shows the feelings of being lost in the vastness of one's emotions of anger at loss of something that one has held precious for long. It is also a curse upon those who take away things that belong to us (though nothing belongs to us anyway). I am including just part of the translation because this poem is not supposed to be translated, rather be taken as anything the reader (or the person looking) assumes it to be.

Disclaimer: I don't know Japanese.

海で失われ
or

Lost at Sea

God
is great
sometimes HIS greatness
is
in HIS punishment.
ruin you for
bringing tears
to my eyes.
lost
at sea
toppled

Tile Designs I II III

I really had no idea I had uploaded that many images online. Anyway, here's a set of designs I made for tiles back in 2004, the last of which is incomplete.

Tile for Tabby's Bath

Adore Her

The incomplete one

So!

So I'm back some time after promising myself I'll post more often. Not my fault this time though, it's all thanks to the mighty mighty power company (not so mighty afterall). There's been so much loadshedding that I was afraid, I'd get my computer busted again and I can't afford to lie in bed for 2 days being ill over it.

Not that there was a chance of getting online since I changed my internet provider. Can't say there's any improvement in service and if I may say so, it's worse. I changed it just because of the siblings or rather the parents, who wanted the siblings to benefit from a faster internet connection but they can't benefit from it yet since I wasn't able to set up the network at home due to faulty wiring inside our house...

So many things that are wrong. Sigh... I wish I'd the energy to get angry.

Anyway, I've decided to sort of close down my accounts on deviantArt and post some or all of the stuff here with some new (read old, since I haven't been doing anything) stuff.

It's been a couple of years (I guess; maybe less) since I logged on over there. I think my last post was in 2005 but I can't be sure. I'm gonna head there later and take off the stuff slowly. It feels like it's going to be a bit difficult. Not the taking off or the posting it here again.

I think it reminds me how I became impotent (not fertility wise haha)... Hmm... perhaps reposting it here and the new found freedom (somewhat freer at least) from self doubt might make me gain some sort of potency (haha).

I don't know but I've never been known to be shy of trying.

As long as the Sun & Moon shall be

(This is something pretty disjointed)

I was reading an article on MSNBC (http://worldblog.msnbc.msn.com/archive/category/1112.aspx) about Pakistan. MSNBC usually has a policy of Pakistan bashing that borders on the creepy sometimes. It seems like an obsession by the sheer number of articles that they write in favor of invading Pakistan.

Going through all the comments, there was so much hatred and negativity. Comments like 'Pakistan is the nerve centre of all evil in the Muslim world' really helps the American cause. Why should anyone love you then? Pakistanis are not obliged to love Americans when Americans clearly hate them. How many times have I read comments like 'drop a bomb and turn it into a desert' or 'turn it into glass'? Too many times for comfort.

Usually the articles begin with interviews with people who can't read or write. There's obviously a bias here to get the most negative comments from people who don't know much about anything in their own country, least of all the USA.

Yet, Americans and any number of nationalities have been given a right to hate us because of our apathetic behaviours in the face of the crises that are facing us. 

Right after the 26th September attacks on the Marriot Hotel in Islamabad, it was all either about our politicians (how victimized they are... ) or that 'it was part of a hotel chain by Americans' so that's why it was targeted. No, it wasn't. It was targeted because it is symbolic. There were many people who were there with their families after a long days fast to enjoy the evening breaking fast ritual with their families. This was a hotel, which was famous for drawing people from all walks of life, from businesspeople to diplomats to familes and journalists. It became a symbol to be targeted to make a point: we can hit you anywhere, anytime, we're not scared. Obviously, in the country called Pakistan, the point was not taken. If a world class leader like Benazir Bhutto (I didn't agree with her politics) could be murdered just like that, why would the government (of her own husband's party no less) care about other civilians?

Now let me share something that I've never wanted to speak of to anyone and that's disturbed me ever since I have known it.

I can't forget that I saw half a man on tv that day. Yes, half of him was gone. He was a security guard (he still had half of his uniform on). The people surrounding him were giving him water from a jug full of bloodied water and someone called his name, 'Basharat!' and I'll never forget it.

I'll never forget when my grandmother (may her soul rest in peace) and I were watching CNN (yeah, I'm a big fan of news) and suddenly these images of planes flying into the towers flashed on the screen. We were both crying like anything. Then the rest of the family joined us and we all cried because we couldn't believe what was happening.

That's to say not everyone hates USA. It's not even about just loving someone or something. It's a feeling that we are all human beings and that we all have families and friends and loved ones and that we all belong to God. We didn't know at that time who did it and it didn't matter. What mattered was that we were praying that people were actually able to get out. We were praying for the souls of the people in the planes. We couldn't believe that the planes had gotten inside the city and so close to buildings.

I can't forget the shocked faces of people running away. The shocked cries from all the people gathered in front of the tv when the first tower started to go down. No God, this can't be! Oh God, I hope they got everyone out.

I won't ever forget Basharat and I won't forget that indelible image of the plane crashing into the tower and my grandmother crying. We weren't in the USA. We were right here in Pakistan and perhaps one of the most hated corners of it, called Peshawar. (I also dislike my family's residence of choice, Peshawar; sorry).

I never wanted to write about these things. Not ever. This is such a personal pain and weirdly so acute that many people won't ever understand it (and I'm not going to try). The only reason that compelled me today was all this hatred.

Don't go hating people without knowing them. Media everywhere is so biased, not just against Muslims; in many other countries, it might be biased against one thing or another, which you would only realize is wrong from the perspective of an outsider.

The politicians coddle their public into thinking that the enemies are out there but I think they're the biggest enemies. To cover their ineptness, our leaders have, throughout history, blamed everyone but themselves for the mistakes that were made in their tenures. Since history is no science, it can always be written in a way that suits the taste of whomever it is being written about, we can't ever be sure, who was good and who was not.

All that comes to us is filtered through so many different sieves that when you take it, it's just a whole cup of vitriol and a sense that 'I'm justified in my beliefs, where everyone else is not'.

This is not to say that there aren't Pakistanis who don't hate the USA and obviously, this is not in their defense. What surprises me is why no one tries to find out why. It might not matter to someone living in the USA but since USA has been such a big part of our lives (thank you for the Mujahideen turned Taliban next door, who're now killing and beheading Pakistanis at whim), it should matter to a journalist.

People in general here have a very postive view of USA, as most people would tell you by their desire to move to the USA, given the first chance (yours truly being on top of that list).

The people who don't have a positive view are people who are usually
1. uneducated people;
2. listeners of mullahs (uneducated local clerics, who know nothing about Muslim laws but claim they are clerics based on the fact that they give call to prayers at local mosques);
3. unemployed youth;
4. entertainment starved people;
5. people with a point to prove;
6. psychos/terrorists;
7. people with personal agendas etc.

It's no secret that if one is not educated, one might be clever but one would still be ignorant. Lack of education is a big problem in Pakistan. Officially, the rate of education has increased to about 40% but unofficially it's around or somewhat more than 20% (sorry, I don't have any citations at this time). One reason for the high official rate: they even count people who've learnt to sign their names...

It's easy to ensnare the ignorant into illogical arguments or stupid actions by simply appealing to emotions. I understand that sometimes, education doesn't save one from falling for this fallacy.

Being ignorant means one is now susceptible to fall into word traps. Here come the people who listen to so called religious clerics. When I was at the University of Peshawar, we had heard of two clerics have a fight on the air in one of the tribal areas. It's a well known fact that tribals are not religious but deeply rooted in their own culture and don't like to bend for anyone. So it was amazing that here were these two apparently Muslim men who were not even from different sects, fighting over who's the daddy of the tribals in that certain area and the tribals not saying anything nor the government taking any interest.

Even all those years ago, I used to find it disturbing because things like these have a way of getting out of hands. Flash forward 2008, and we have the disciples of these two mullahs beheading the tribals, government officers, army men, engineers, socialworkers, marrying the tribals' daughters by force, setting fire to houses and schools and hospitals and other civic buildings, holding instant trials and sentencing 'spies' to death.

If someone's telling you that things have gotten better, they're lying. They've gotten worse but an attack at this time would take it from worse to worst. It's a real life slippery slope. The Government of Pakistan let the camel into the tent and now it's time for them to own up to the responsibility of removing it. In this case, the tent is Pakistan and the camel is all of the so called Islamists, Taliban etc.

As someone said, let someone run the government on contract basis and maybe we'll see an improvement. Is someone listening? Can you save us from ourselves perhaps except this time, don't screw it up like Afghanistan and Iraq?

Let's pray that the lyric from the old Pakistani song, roughly translated as

'As long as the sun and moon shall be, so shall Pakistan be',

stays true.

Terence Cuneo - Secret Mouse Man

Terence Cuneo at the Waterloo Station

I suppose this would be a fairly common angle for this photograph (though it is by no means an example of good photography).

Again, a random photograph from my trip to London last year. I didn't enjoy it much at the time (too much tension) because I was trying to make someone happy. Alas, I failed miserably (usual) as I came to know when I came back home. People make no secrets of their disappointments with me. It is in a sad state that I always find myself.

So why this random photograph? It touched me at that time because of the expression on his face, which is sweet. Like someone who doesn't think children are dumb and jokes are stupid.

I researched Cuneo and found he used to paint mice into his paintings and sometimes they used to be hidden. That oughta tell you what kind of man he was. Funny, I should say. I tried to find some examples of his paintings online but so far I haven't been successful. Maybe another night when I'm not down with flu.

P.s. there's a mouse hidden in the sculpture too but that part is not showing in my photograph.

An Epiphany!

I thought I should post more often now that I'm free. And unburdened (hopefully). I hope to continue being more frequent (I hope, I hope).

To my mind, it's become even more imperative since someone I love offered to buy me a website and a domain name (why, I never even thanked you...).

Better to just let it out here than burn.

And what about the woman?

Well, Senor Dali?













London, 2007

The Endless Frame

1. You wish you had stopped me.

2. I want to terrorize the terrorists.

3. I am sleeping with lonliness nowadays.

4. My life is being lived by others.

Unoriginal Sin

On 11th March, I'd a dream that I'd died. It started to come true soon.

On 24th July, they hung me by the noose until death.

On 25th, my skulls rolled down a hill to a sea of my decomposed bodies.

I was never laid to rest, I just died and hung between the world, in a shadow from which, there was not extrication.

My sin was birth. I was born. That was my sin.

York

I went to York at the beginning of this year and really loved it though I didn't enjoy the trip at that time because as usual I wasn't well and I was missing so many things and people.

If you've ever had the famous Yorkie bars, you know where York is and it's (relatively haha) new namesake New York as well.

Of course, they don't make the Yorkie bars here anymore. They're manufactured in Poland now.


A View from the Top of the Gothic Cathedral



Going up the Towers of the Cathedral



A Fine Example of Gothic Architecture



Beautiful Arches



Old Gate & Tower, part of the City's Old Wall



Rest a While



Little Shambles, the Famous Butcher's Street - the butcher's shops of course, are gone.

Another Old Church in the York City Centre

Steps Down to the Canal Walkway

The Famous Bridge to the City Centre

Down the Canal

Catching a loneliness

To find that you are alone in that place
Where everyone is and yet
You find no one there
You search
You look
Inward and outward
You run and make
sudden turning movements
to catch that loneliness
and put it in its place.

06 Aug. 08

Badar's Wings are Her Legs

As she opens them up to get

‘what she wants’

Badar flies on magical wings

That’s what the good man told her

That’s what they say

06 Aug. 08

I Wish I Were a Man

I Wish I Were a Man

I wish I were a man
walk naked at will
without fear or remorse
when the heat wave hits.
Let my navel show full of wool
Be admired for my many smells
Oh manly smells.
What is so great to be a woman?
When I have so much to change:
Remove moustache;
Pluck eyebrows;
Wax legs and armpits;
Shave pubes;
Put on lipstick because my
Lips are not red enough.
Hide one silly scar with cakey creams;
Why, when you’ve seen more men
With craters like Yucatán?
I wish I didn’t have to care
If my belly didn’t fit.
So I broke my tooth
And now I’m not fit for your sacrifice?
Have you never seen men
With their jaws hanging out?
So I wish I were a woman who is a man
Better than to be a sacrificial lamb
Being checked for flaws
Better to be a man
With a fat belly
And stinking breath
Then the most beautiful woman
In the world
Because you’re still a sacrificial lamb
You’re still missing a tooth
You lost in the first loss of blood.
Did it not hurt when they
Told you had a fat neck
How good did it feel
When they said you
Were an inch too short?
Good to kill then be killed
Better to paw
Then be pawed
Better to look ugly
Yet still be man
Than to be the only reason
For going to a heaven far away.
Better to wish to be a man
Then to really be a woman.

Angry Blog

Since I've been really angry and someone suggested putting down my anger on paper to deal with it, I thought, why not my blog rather than paper; though paper gives you a chance to tear it up in anger. I didn't want to change the name to *drum roll* Angry Blog so I thought why not just post one of my favorite angry songs? Because when I'm so angry, it's hard to get a word out through all the confusion that is my brain.

With apologies to Alice in Chains for making minor changes to the lyrics.

Angry Chair

Sitting on an angry chair
Angry walls that steal the air
Stomach hurts and I don't care

What do I see across the way
See myself moulded in clay
Stares at me, yeah I'm afraid
Changing the shape of her face

Candles red, I have a pair
Shadows dancing everywhere
Burning on the angry chair

Little girl made a mistake
Pink cloud has now turned to gray
All that I want is to play
Get on your knees, time to pray, girl

I don't mind, yeah
I don't mind,
I don't mind, yeah,
I don't mind
Lost my mind, yeah
But I don't mind
Can't find it anywhere
I don't mind

Corporate prison, we stay
I'm a dull girl, work all day
So I'm strung out anyway

Loneliness is not a phase
Field of pain is where I graze
Serenity is far away

Saw my reflection and cried
So little hope that I died
Feed me your lies, open wide
Weight of my heart, not the size

Pink cloud has now turned to gray
All that I want is to play
Get on your knees time to pray, girl.

Return of the Despicable It

For a long time, I lie thinking. I cannot go to sleep, try as I might. I try hard but in vain to empty my brain of the relentlessly goading thoughts.

It tries to be happy. It tries quite hard. Just like it tried before. At least make pretense. What it did not were the pretenses already there, laid bare too soon. It wanted to go on pretending that it was missed, loved, needed. It had falsely presumed the kindness of its owners. How could it not be fooled? It always gets fooled easily.

It doesn't want to feel. Hadn't it been trying hard not to for long? It had been alone. It had been so alone and no one knew and no one cared.

It saw people for what they were yet it knew what did it know anyway. It called itself a pig and swine. It hurt and then for some time it stopped to feel. For it is just a thing with legs, arms, eyes but it does not have rights. The least of them being the right to feel.

It thought it had mastered its anger. It learnt to ask for forgiveness. And what was it told? It was made fun of. It was laughed at. 'But it is just a fool! It does not have rights.' It doesn't have the right to feel yet it goes on feeling.

It is a foul reject. What does it know anyway? It knows nothing. When it tells truth, it is called a liar. When it tries to hide tears with smiles, an easy task, it is told that it's shameless.

Yes, it is shameless. It is shameless to feel for what does it know of feelings? It must kill itself to be like it was before.

When it said it was fragile, they just looked at the cage it had been trapped in and pointed and laughed, 'Could that be fragile?'

It is sad. It is sad and has been so for a so long that it has despaired for happiness. It, despondent; but what does it know?

It was built through the eyes of others' words. What personality may it have? That of a liar, truant, mischief maker, heartache? It has forgotten what it is so what can it say now that it is not so? It would thus become the suspected liar, would it not?

Yes, it doesn't know. It even forgets. It is most truly shameless. Sometimes it weeps then stops itself suddenly because it forgets why it started.

What shall this tyrant do?

It cannot defend. Cast as it is an evil, the bane of its masters existence. It is a coward. Yet, it knows also, the body is not its own. This mind nor this heart. Yet, it is a coward still. It is tired and still sleep won't come.

It is a most pathetic pig. If it were human, it'd make its duty to kill it in the most perverse way. Bring it death just as it lived; little by little with much pain and suffering. Isn't it already there? But what does it know? It knows nothing.