Stargazing

There is nothing more beautiful than a clear night sky and it is a rare thing to find shooting stars seen gliding across the sky. Back then when I was in school, I use to squat just outside my home under the stars in eager anticipation of the night's sky show. But now, hardly finding out time for it. The risks of darkness never frightened me but instead challenged my imagination even more. Night's gifts are out of the ordinary, ec-static and always unexpected.

Once a stranger to me, Orion used to be merely another bunch of unknown stars to my naked eyes. I still remember very well, my brother and I went for an evening walk, the night was crisp but too cold with a canopy of stars visible despite the city lights, where I turned to see a bright balls of fire hanging above us like lantern bursting with mirth and spilling its dazzling light. With a finger he pointed out to three prominent stars in the sky that seemed to fall on a line of their own. He then introduced to me the kind 'Sir Orion' who soon turned out to be the first constellation I learned. A belt and a sword tucked in its quiver and was this man, a brave and mighty hunter with two loyal canines, the lesser dog and the greater dog at his heels. His dogs follow his lead as he seemed to be so enamored by this group of beauteous nymphs, the seven sisters of the Pleiades who happened to be guarded by the bull, causing him to be on a state of perpetual journeying, chasing them endlessly across the sky.

And so I fell in love with this handsome stranger, born out of the skies and born from the stars. I don't see how one can be so numb to the beauty of space and the glory of the heavens and continue to live, if only one were half alive?

When you see a falling star, they say the only real good wish to make at that point (knowing that it is actually a meteor) is to wish for it to NOT fall on where you are standing! But not to worry, most of them really just burn out in the earth's atmosphere and some just pass by without hitting any of us. With all the hurtful things in life, all the everyday cares and worries, unmet goals, broken promises and lost hopes. I think I know just the perfect wish!

The very essence of me

I say the following too much:

1- Cool
2- heyaaaa
3- what the hell
4- Hopeless case
5- DAMMIT
6- Idiotic
7- Psychopath
8- Are you for real?
9- Are you kidding me?
10- Oh Man!
11- You suck.
12- This sucks.
13- Ooo la la
14- How much? Oh who cares, I'll buy it.
15- Aye Khudaya
16- Oookiess
17- Okidoki dooo

I write the following too much:

1- eh?
2- huh?
3- heheheheh
4- hahahahahha
5- what?
6- you suck
7- Hilarious!
8- heelllllaaaaaaaaa
9- ahoooooooooooooo
10- oookies

I do the following too much:

WASTE TIME.

Hyperthymesia

According to Wikipedia:

"Hyperthymesia or hyperthymestic syndrome is a condition where the affected individual has a superior autobiographical memory. The two defining characteristics of hyperthymesia are 1) the person spends an abnormally large amount of time thinking about his or her personal past, and 2) the person has an extraordinary capacity to recall specific events from their personal past."

Can you imagine that? Remembering everything? Everything? Granted, it's an extremely rare condition, with only two known people with hyperthymesia in the world, but the very idea boggles my mind.

I don't think there's anything more merciful, more healing, than the reliable knowledge that memory is but a fleeting concept - selective and forgiving. You hold on to the good ones and embellish them a little bit further so that everything is rosy pink, and you blur the unpleasant ones, and comepletely delete (and then empty recycle bin) those ones that are known to cause a stabbing pain every time you recall them.

But if you can't help but remember the most mundane details, wouldn't you be terrified of even forming any memories?

Terrifying.

Am so over it

I've been out of the social circle lately. I don't answer my phone much, I don't answer my messages, I hide from people, I'm not attending any social gathering or parties and I change into my pyjamas as soon as I get home from college, to make sure no one would dare bother me and suggest something preposterous, like me leaving the sanctuary of my net world I have buried myself alive in. Then what the hell am I doing? Studying? eh, you must be kidding! I'm on writing spree these days. Am writing diaries all the day long and know what this is the 3rd blog post of the day!

Why am I doing this? I have the slightest bit of explanation. Am over with it. Over with everyone and everything. Its not that am being too much self centered, but the very fact that I have lost the charm, charm in living you can say. Its been more than 7 years now that I went through the same phase. I remember, back then when no one use to talk to me, books were my best friends, I used to miss out on an entire night of sleep, staying up until 5:30 in the morning to finish my gorgeous books irrespective of mum yelling on my back to sleep (needless to mention the migraine that used to followe that stupid, stupid night of reading and not even to mention that was the sole reason why I always always use to land up in hospital).

Books- my bestest friends (:D) what can I say? (seems as if am writing a testimonial) I'm so paranoid about books, that I won't even share the name of the book, in case someone goes out and buys next part before I've had the chance to hunt all over town for it. I will develop a hernia and then proceed to have a cow if I am finished with part 1 and don't have next part anywhere in the near vicinity. I kid you not. I feel very strongly about this.

Trust...

You can't always trust what you hear, but trust all that you see. Most of the time it's best to trust your gut feeling. People will tell you anything when they know you trust them
How weird it is that 'trust' never exists single

Words...

I caress them
then cast them away
I love them
and then sacrifice them to doubt
I hate them
and then apologize to their trace in my life.
Words and I are at war from now on.

My Immortal

I'm so tired of being here
Suppressed by all my childish fears
And if you have to leave
I wish that you would just leave
'Cause your presence still lingers here
And it won't leave me alone

These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase

When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have
All of me

You used to captivate me
By your resonating light
Now I'm bound by the life you left behind
Your face it haunts
My once pleasant dreams
Your voice it chased away
All the sanity in me

These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase

I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone
But though you're still with me
I've been alone all along
~Evanescence

sick of everything!

I'm sick, and so I'm leaving. it doesn't get any more simple than that. how long? can't really tell right now. until I'm okay. just wish me "good" recovery!

thank you for everything, things wouldn't have been any better. and I wouldn't have wished for more.

love you all *hugs*

Feeling BAD!

Feeling BAD!
Plainly BAD

Art of flattery

My mother and my brother decided to have a bit of a house warming party (that was supposedly a barbecue party) last night, where a total of 12 (or was it 13?) women ogled me (needless to mention about men from the party cause they did'nt bugged me down). Saying it was slightly uncomfortable is definitely putting it mildly. In fact, saying that I was like a fish out of water is not only the understatement of the century, it's actually kinda like saying Michael Jackson is a freak and expecting someone out there to disagree with you.

Anyway, after I was asked around five times what I'm studying and/or what college I go to (I am doing post graduated now, people, but I don't blame them, thanks to the aforementioned fish-out-of-water vibe I was letting off, coupled with what I am sure is a look of petrified fear on my face), after explaining around 12 times what I am studying (beats me), imagine my condition explaining those ogled freaks what biochemistry exactly is... anyway, after having my waist measured by approximately four pairs of hands accompanied by shrieking exclamations of OH MY GOD YOU HAVE LOST SO MUCH WEIGHT LOOK AT YOU, YOU ARE FINALLY PRETTY,!!! (WHAT? you must be blind or something!), getting cornered by exactly three women LOUDER THAN ME CAN YOU BELIEVE IT, who seemed to have a strange interest in my future and their overwhelming curiosity as to when am going to marry(huh??) and listening to maybe seven pointless jokes about how it must have been me who made every one of the dishes weighing down the dining table despite my assurances that I hate parties like these where you'll be cut to throat with loads of work, and finally, after carrying all their scraped-clean plates and glasses back and forth to the kitchen something like 4781357183 times, they finally herded themselves out and were on their merry way, leaving us with plenty of yummy leftovers. I was totally fine with it all, I grabbed a plate of left overs and watched Bird on a wire, which, I think, is one of the best movies ever, but anyway....I digress.

Ten minutes after they had left, my mom grinned at me and exclaimed, "Everyone said my daughter is so pretty! Everyone told me I have a pretty daughter!"

And I'm thinking to myself, ARE YOU SERIOUS?!?!?! Like, dear mother of mine, what did you EXPECT them to say?? Even if your daughter had a harelip, was cross-eyed, sported green and stank to high heaven, they would still shower you with flattery and say Mashallah and call me pretty - what else are they going to say?!??! This is NOT a compliment to be trusted. They told you that you have a pretty daughter, sure, but in the same breath, they also said that you have a pretty home, that the sheek kabab is great, and that the tandoori chicken is magnificent. And let's be serious here - the sheek kabab was SO NOT GREAT.

I couldn't help but think of our inherent need to flatter everyone we meet, left, right and centre. Not to mention a conversation I had with a friend only yesterday, about how taken we are, as a culture, with showering each other with insincere compliments. It's constant. "I love your bag, is that new?" "Oh what a nice car, such a great colour!" "Your T-shirt is so cool, I love it!" Etc Etc...

Damn, man! If it wasn't for Bird on a wire, I don't know WHAT I would have done.

PS: If you didn't watch Bird on wire. Go and get it! Its an awesome movie. Or may be it made me felt that way because am a big fan of Mel Gibson.