The epitaph read, “And she died, because they were too pretentious.” ‘She’ is the country we sing false praises of every year on 14th of August. ‘They’ are us. Imagine long forgotten, buried nations with tombstones showing how they died. If Pakistan were ever unfortunate enough to be wiped off, it would hardly be terrorist attacks, […]
There`s the fascinating enigma that is the human mind. And then there is the typical Pakistani’s baffling mind. It’s sometimes impossible to imagine the amount of hate-mongering my country folk can accommodate in their over-stimulated, zealous brains. I always knew excessive chai (tea)-drinking had its repercussions.
This is not a debate on why Malala should be honored for her Nobel Peace Prize. Nor is this a rant on feminism and gender equality. This is an attempt to understand the mind of a typical Malala-hater. What on Earth goes on in their minds? Let’s dissect shall we?
1. Psst don’t you know?! Malala is a CIA agent out to destroy Pakistan!
Admit it. You`re jealous. Don`t be shy. You know you want the limelight. All those years of watching Hollywood movies about the CIA and spies, this fetish has taken its toll on that limited brain of yours. All those years…
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Real life is mundane. Real life is ordinary; From waking up with muck in your eyes and going to the grocery store for milk, to going on a yearly family trip and getting a paycheck. But then it’s the moments in between that make your heart pop out of its socket, one hop too quick, one beat too sudden. Those are the bumps on the road we all secretly wish for because we want to feel something, sometimes anything. Even if it’s discomfort of a new shoe because the comfort of an old well-worn shoe tends to suffocate.
Just the other day I was thinking about the monotony of life. Routine can be exhausting. But despite the redundancy, I am old enough to understand that an uneventful day is something to be grateful about. As humans we are programmed to seek thrill from life. We turn to fantasy, disbelief and…
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An excellent article for young parents
This is an era of showcase parenting.
“My child writes poetry at eight.”
“Mine reads biographies at ten.”
“ Mine learnt how to play the piano at six.”
When Re was a baby, I did the rounds of all the parks in my neighbourhood. I always met fellow moms with their babies. They always compared notes on whether their child was turning, sitting, teething, crawling, standing, walking, or talking as well as the others. It always made me tired.
‘So is he walking?’ one would ask me about Re.
‘Not really, but with support, yes…’ I would say.
‘Is he talking?’ they would ask.
‘Not yet, but he is just fifteen months,’ I would say, suddenly wanting to be some place else.
‘Mine started talking at eleven months!’ one would declare.
And then I would find another park. Soon, I ran out…
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Fathers and daughters – a royal bond. Almost like the queen in a game of chess, standing out from the rest as something intriguing, something powerful, something special.
Looking back, I have many reasons to celebrate my relationship with my baba (father). In so many little or big moments that take turns warming up my heart. Moments that I keep safe in my mind, like a possessive collector. Moments that are majestic only because they are about me and my baba.
Baba, I know you will be one of my first readers here. You have been my most enthusiastic and loyal fan. I am no way near the writer you think me to be. But your encouragement is all I need to take on the world. I have many memories of us together. I am surprised I remember, since memory isn’t my strongest suit. And like…
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More of the same. While everything is going up in flames, everyone is raving about Eid. Extraordinary times call for extraordinary responses. Are we up to the challenges as a nation, I ask myself and no surprises there; answer is a big NO. The next question then; are we doomed? I sure hope not but light at the tunnel end is getting dimmer by the day.
It is how nations respond to a crisis is that makes them or break them. Just the last week or so; a jailbreak, an Army investigation team killed, passengers taken off a bus and shot, children blown up at a sports prize distribution, and then a bomb blast at a funeral killing scores, followed on Eid day itself by a failed suicide attack on an Imambargah in Islamabad (failed because of some technical malfunction).Now look at our leaders, PM off for his ritual Umra, younger brother rushing to London, and the (not so) great Khan cooling his heals and making no sense. And the Army; well they promote four to three star rank on Chand Raat. And this endless speculation about the new Chief – fed no doubt by sources from within (just look at all the inside information). Less said about judiciary (obsessed with contempt) and the remaining pack of political jokers better it is. Not to forget the ever chattering channels; smartly made up men & women having fun and portraying what —- behaving as if all is normal. It was pure and simple vulgar!! Do we really feel for Pakistan, or are Balochistan and Karachi and KPK and NAs not Pakistan? No matter how patriotic one tries to be, writing is clearly on the wall. We actually may not have the luxury of belonging to our Pakistan for much longer (sooner than we think actually) if we do not mend ourselves – and in quick time.
For starters let us shun all festivities for the foreseeable future to induce a climate of urgency and also that things are not normal – and that includes Eid & 14 Aug and whatever. Take it from there.
Make up your own minds and those who are keen read how huge empires just disintegrated. Nature abhors vacuum guys!!!!!!
Hope you all had a happy Eid
“If you want to make God laugh tell Him your plans” the uncertainty of life