For the love of GOD, what are we?

 

 

 

 

Negotiation and the principles of give and take are so easy to follow. Leave something; take another. It is prudent and definitely less emotionally exhausting, yet why? Why do we  mindlessly forsake our homes and families on Saturday mornings and trot off to various schools and universities; to get adrenaline rushes, hormonal and mental imbalance, some humiliating critiques. You can throw insomnia there too. Why do we make ourselves go through the pressure? Why do we listen so intently to what a speaker is saying, and although he makes sense, we go on to say that he is living in lalaland?

We are not normal. We have twisted priorities. Then what are we? What are we made off? Why does a non- Debater not understand our need to torture ourselves every week? Maybe because they have not experienced it themselves; hence, they would never be able to understand. Or most likely because we ourselves donnot know the answers!

The ostrich or the adaptive camel?

It is surprising how inflation does make the headlines in paki TV nowadays. Because neither is it ‘breaking news’ , nor does it shock us out of our seats. Just provokes long and guttural yawns. So after a clearly useless half an hour in front of Geo,  our ladies either get up and call their tailors up and tell them to add another banarasi patti to their party dress; in fear that their society friends are going to be wrapped in satin and silks. Or, they go around to Charles and Keith for a peek.  Nobody would guess that this is the scenario in one of the most impoverished, corrupt and economically back swept country.

What we really need is not a technological breakthrough or miracle leadership; but plain old little reforms. We have to stop asauging our stress and grief with expensive buys or the rat race. A self change is to be brought from within; we have to open our eyes to ground reality. We cannot afford to fake it when we donnot have it.  The truth is that we are a poor nation and we have a very hard struggle ahead of us. So either we bury our head in the ground or stop shying away from the sacrifices we will have to make. Money has to be saved and invested where it will benefit the country; not at the back of our closets, withering away to dust.

Some lovely encounters…

Some lovely encounters….

Some lovely encounters…

some lovely encounters

Sitting in front of my laptop, I think of a catchy headline, an inspiration, a fresh story! And then after a heap of disappointments, it hits me. ME. IT HAS TO BE MY STORY! My eyes watery with the pyaaz being sliced and chopped brutally in the kitchen; on the verge of tears. I hear my siblings shouting and laughing in my parent’s bedroom. I hear the buzz of conversation and television in my TV lounge. As the sun filters in the room, I observe the microscopic dust fragments illuminated in the beams of light. It seems like a world of its own. The Milky Way with stars so tiny; just like the ones we see in the sky, only millions more due to the absence of pollution indoors.

Similarly, I exist in my own world and so does everyone. As we talk to strangers and open up to old people sitting in a secluded corner, on any public transport, we see. We see and hear about the world they exist in. And guess what? It is as exciting and encompassing as being reborn or reading a book!

P.s Fond readers will know what I mean and yes, welcome to a new world! =D