So I am fretting over my application. I still have 3 more months to file the formal one .However the real question is where to apply?
I am going through the dillema of choosing between us/canada.
I know queens is my first priority followed by university of Toronto and then western.
But every one is asking me to apply in us as well. Duke is still a big crush.
The whole story ends on availibility of advisor and funding.
If I get the federal funding again then definitely I will stay in Canada.
I guess I have started liking the place. The domestication, the fact you know people and your family is here.
It is one reason I do not want to move to us though I have an option..
Still.
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Thursday, July 26, 2007
so the study marathon is almost at end. I am trying to revise the stuff i have learned over a period of two weeks.There are some new facts,some old theories and yes some really interesting insights.
When the course started i thought i have started hating theory.Taking more courses in statistics and econometrics had really zinced my memory.
I enjoy working with numbers and econometrics fulfills my desire to do programming once in a while.
But this course is evident of the fact that i am still really good in theory and public policy is a natural strong area.
These days i am writing my proposal for phd admission and in first place i was thinking to major in econometrics but now i guess i might take financial issues in developing nations as my second major.I am oscillating in between subjects.
I fell in love with things easily and then discard them ruthlessly.
Whether it was my eternal love for bio chemistry,my endeavor for learning programming or my fling with medicine,every thing ended like a teenage crush.
The only thing that had remained is my utmost love for change.
Economics is promising.It gives an insight,a model and a solution.
It is stimulating and challenging.
It is impressive and tough.
And yet i love it as much as i still love him till this day.
Two things will always remain in my life..
His memories and yes numbers...
When the course started i thought i have started hating theory.Taking more courses in statistics and econometrics had really zinced my memory.
I enjoy working with numbers and econometrics fulfills my desire to do programming once in a while.
But this course is evident of the fact that i am still really good in theory and public policy is a natural strong area.
These days i am writing my proposal for phd admission and in first place i was thinking to major in econometrics but now i guess i might take financial issues in developing nations as my second major.I am oscillating in between subjects.
I fell in love with things easily and then discard them ruthlessly.
Whether it was my eternal love for bio chemistry,my endeavor for learning programming or my fling with medicine,every thing ended like a teenage crush.
The only thing that had remained is my utmost love for change.
Economics is promising.It gives an insight,a model and a solution.
It is stimulating and challenging.
It is impressive and tough.
And yet i love it as much as i still love him till this day.
Two things will always remain in my life..
His memories and yes numbers...
Sunday, July 22, 2007
A day in central mississauga...
So I am in central library Mississauga right now. The local library across the road is closed for Sunday so this place has become my abode for 5 hours.
I am one of those library addicts who can not study in home/room. I need a space and paraphernalia which shouts on my nerves study. study..Study.
So amman dropped me at central around 12 :45 and loud sounds welcomed me in front. There is some festival going on here and I am already having headache because of all the noise around.
So I waited in library foyer for almost 10 minutes and there I met one of the most cutest Chinese kid.(well this course in Chinese economy is also effecting my socializing skills.
So this kid was standing with his father near the stairs I was sitting with a bag full of books and a heavy laptop(I hate the weight of my hp).
He came near me and started staring on my glass bangles touching and playing with them. Same way mommi use to do.
In vacations I have the liberty to enjoy the sound of a glass bangle because in academic year the sound fills the silence of class whenever I write on the board during the tutorials.
So I allowed the kid to play with the bangles then tapping my sandal heals and clapping.
He smiled came forward and hugged me.
It was one of the sweetest feelings in the world.
Working with kids..(I worked as a kindergarten teacher some times back), is one of the most pleasurable feelings. After teaching elder kids(university going) I came to conclusion that teaching at higher levels is though challenging but emotionally boring.
The drama of a kindergarten class has its own pleasures.
The laughter, the sound, their smiles and yes the way they express on top of their innocence can melt any heart.
The day definitely started with a very nice note.
I am missing the days I spend with mommi playing with him, baby sitting him but now what I remember are memories to cherish than memories to weep.
Well I have the paper due in a weeks time I better get back to the world of mao,deng and hagel.
I am one of those library addicts who can not study in home/room. I need a space and paraphernalia which shouts on my nerves study. study..Study.
So amman dropped me at central around 12 :45 and loud sounds welcomed me in front. There is some festival going on here and I am already having headache because of all the noise around.
So I waited in library foyer for almost 10 minutes and there I met one of the most cutest Chinese kid.(well this course in Chinese economy is also effecting my socializing skills.
So this kid was standing with his father near the stairs I was sitting with a bag full of books and a heavy laptop(I hate the weight of my hp).
He came near me and started staring on my glass bangles touching and playing with them. Same way mommi use to do.
In vacations I have the liberty to enjoy the sound of a glass bangle because in academic year the sound fills the silence of class whenever I write on the board during the tutorials.
So I allowed the kid to play with the bangles then tapping my sandal heals and clapping.
He smiled came forward and hugged me.
It was one of the sweetest feelings in the world.
Working with kids..(I worked as a kindergarten teacher some times back), is one of the most pleasurable feelings. After teaching elder kids(university going) I came to conclusion that teaching at higher levels is though challenging but emotionally boring.
The drama of a kindergarten class has its own pleasures.
The laughter, the sound, their smiles and yes the way they express on top of their innocence can melt any heart.
The day definitely started with a very nice note.
I am missing the days I spend with mommi playing with him, baby sitting him but now what I remember are memories to cherish than memories to weep.
Well I have the paper due in a weeks time I better get back to the world of mao,deng and hagel.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Bitter note....
The day which started with laughter and optimism is ending on a bitter note.
The more i know people around me (men in general) the more i am becoming evasive to relationships and the word love.
The mean ness and the lust (venality of emotions which i call it some times) have decreased every thing into glossy credentials and Greek god looks.
Some times i wonder on one of my very close friend’s remarks that life as a dumb blonde is very easy.
The time other person start knowing that you are some one with opinion, thoughts and yes the power to make decisions things get into quagmire leaving you with many dead end questions.
I use to perceive that his rejection was timely. That i will grow up as a strong person out of it. But now I realize that one incidence has created a ghost in me.
I retrieve even before the other person thinks to hit the ball back in my court.
I am a lousy player. in tennis as well as in real life...
The more i know people around me (men in general) the more i am becoming evasive to relationships and the word love.
The mean ness and the lust (venality of emotions which i call it some times) have decreased every thing into glossy credentials and Greek god looks.
Some times i wonder on one of my very close friend’s remarks that life as a dumb blonde is very easy.
The time other person start knowing that you are some one with opinion, thoughts and yes the power to make decisions things get into quagmire leaving you with many dead end questions.
I use to perceive that his rejection was timely. That i will grow up as a strong person out of it. But now I realize that one incidence has created a ghost in me.
I retrieve even before the other person thinks to hit the ball back in my court.
I am a lousy player. in tennis as well as in real life...
Of free times and old dramas...
I grew up watching ptv dramas.Ahat,aroosa,kasak ,dhop kinare,sitara or mehruniisa but yes my all time favorites khawaja and son.
I am in Toronto these days and I was sipping tea when my mother just exclaimed.
Change channels its arifa siddique.
And so here we were watching the old time classical khawaja and sons with its vibrant humor and a classy original portrayal of old lahore’s life.
The sentences are not only humorous but original.
The drama portray the life of a simple Pakistani household which is predominantly female with just one brother and a neighbor who has the cheesy crush on him.
The story moves from the gloomy alleys of old Lahore to the vibrant glamorous life of new money.
The social change in the core of Punjabi society, tradition dying in transition. Old values being over ruled by the new doctrines.
The sets are original, so is acting in one way or another.
It is one of the best productions of Lahore center.
Drama is definitely dying in Pakistan. Specially tv drama.
These days geo is telecasting the premiere of shoaib mansoor’s movie and I was wondering why is media blind to the deterioration of drama.
Ptv productions these days look like copy cat version of ekta kapoor filmi dramas.
I some times wonder who wear these kinds of dresses even in urban Pakistan.
Originality is overruled by glamour and fantasy.
We need a revival, cultural, intellectual and yes philosophical.
80’s were definitely intellectually productive when ptv had to bear the censor ship of a dictator.
I am wondering what has happened to media in these so called FREE TIMES.
I am in Toronto these days and I was sipping tea when my mother just exclaimed.
Change channels its arifa siddique.
And so here we were watching the old time classical khawaja and sons with its vibrant humor and a classy original portrayal of old lahore’s life.
The sentences are not only humorous but original.
The drama portray the life of a simple Pakistani household which is predominantly female with just one brother and a neighbor who has the cheesy crush on him.
The story moves from the gloomy alleys of old Lahore to the vibrant glamorous life of new money.
The social change in the core of Punjabi society, tradition dying in transition. Old values being over ruled by the new doctrines.
The sets are original, so is acting in one way or another.
It is one of the best productions of Lahore center.
Drama is definitely dying in Pakistan. Specially tv drama.
These days geo is telecasting the premiere of shoaib mansoor’s movie and I was wondering why is media blind to the deterioration of drama.
Ptv productions these days look like copy cat version of ekta kapoor filmi dramas.
I some times wonder who wear these kinds of dresses even in urban Pakistan.
Originality is overruled by glamour and fantasy.
We need a revival, cultural, intellectual and yes philosophical.
80’s were definitely intellectually productive when ptv had to bear the censor ship of a dictator.
I am wondering what has happened to media in these so called FREE TIMES.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Another sleepless night
It is almost 12 and I am cursing my sleeping routine. Nothing is helping right now. I have been reading for last 6 hours and my eyes are red and head is throbbing.
In 3 months I have been able to write 4 chapters(all fragmented, written by hand rather typed) and was able to draft the plot.
I still do not know what I really want to do with this piece.
Writing is one exhausting job. Reading for days and then trying to collect my own fragmented thoughts.
I decided today to move out of ca if I do nt get enrolled in PhD. Amman is right I need time with myself.
But then again will running from life help?
Every one is accusing me of hiding behind books.
This is the only way to curb personal thoughts.
Every other ghost I had buried in past is coming back to haunt me.
But then again..memories are the worst spell one could ever suffer from.
Even love is not a good exorcist.
Sarah~
In 3 months I have been able to write 4 chapters(all fragmented, written by hand rather typed) and was able to draft the plot.
I still do not know what I really want to do with this piece.
Writing is one exhausting job. Reading for days and then trying to collect my own fragmented thoughts.
I decided today to move out of ca if I do nt get enrolled in PhD. Amman is right I need time with myself.
But then again will running from life help?
Every one is accusing me of hiding behind books.
This is the only way to curb personal thoughts.
Every other ghost I had buried in past is coming back to haunt me.
But then again..memories are the worst spell one could ever suffer from.
Even love is not a good exorcist.
Sarah~
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Dreamless days sleepless nights..
In my own wilderness
I think about you
and the time i had you..
in all the ways a woman can have a man
and then losing you
in all the ways a woman can lose a man
the pain,the pangs the sobs the cries
Thinking that they will apease with time
as time is a natural healer
but then thinking today with my head
on a wet pillow and eyes swollen with red lines
a thought crossed my mind..
love had been a curse rather then gift
leaving me dreamless days and sleepless night,,,
I think about you
and the time i had you..
in all the ways a woman can have a man
and then losing you
in all the ways a woman can lose a man
the pain,the pangs the sobs the cries
Thinking that they will apease with time
as time is a natural healer
but then thinking today with my head
on a wet pillow and eyes swollen with red lines
a thought crossed my mind..
love had been a curse rather then gift
leaving me dreamless days and sleepless night,,,
Saturday, July 14, 2007
Turmoil....
When are you coming back,ravs called at almost 5 evening.25th I guess .I answered back.Do n't you miss home?
Home?
I know she was referring to our abode which we both leased a year back. It is so strange to have your own house, to pay your own bills and to enter its loneliness at end of day.
I realized that I started liking the lifestyle when I shifted back to amman;s place few months back.
The noise of family was too much some times.
Too sensitive, she commented one day.
But now I realize that I am going through a real dilemma. I am so much use to my loneliness and independence that the whole idea of sharing my life with some one is overwhelming.
It is just as some one entering your comfort zone and asking space. Talk to him he is good,my mom pleaded in evening.
All guys are good what should I talk to him?
Same old nonsense?
She was silent knowing that I am really hardheaded at times.
But yes I do not know in which direction I am moving my life. I am afraid of settled life and domestication is too appeasing.
The only time when the idea of marriage clicks is when I see kids running and playing in the park.
But again this is no reason to play with some ones emotion. Marriage is a plant which needs commitment and love.
And ravs is right, I am afraid to love. And I am afraid to forget love.
Some scars need a life time to heal.
Home?
I know she was referring to our abode which we both leased a year back. It is so strange to have your own house, to pay your own bills and to enter its loneliness at end of day.
I realized that I started liking the lifestyle when I shifted back to amman;s place few months back.
The noise of family was too much some times.
Too sensitive, she commented one day.
But now I realize that I am going through a real dilemma. I am so much use to my loneliness and independence that the whole idea of sharing my life with some one is overwhelming.
It is just as some one entering your comfort zone and asking space. Talk to him he is good,my mom pleaded in evening.
All guys are good what should I talk to him?
Same old nonsense?
She was silent knowing that I am really hardheaded at times.
But yes I do not know in which direction I am moving my life. I am afraid of settled life and domestication is too appeasing.
The only time when the idea of marriage clicks is when I see kids running and playing in the park.
But again this is no reason to play with some ones emotion. Marriage is a plant which needs commitment and love.
And ravs is right, I am afraid to love. And I am afraid to forget love.
Some scars need a life time to heal.
Friday, July 13, 2007
Trekking in mississauga
June 19, 2007
Walking for 6 hours yesterday is showing up today. I have found an awesome companion and friend, huma anty. In spite of the age gap we have lot more to talk. I like her adventurous spirit. Yesterday when I was a bit hesitant to step up in the thick forest near the ravine she motivated me.
Tracking for 6 hours was fruitful and we found the credit view river park right near our neighborhood. The whole area is filled with ever green trees bushes and yes the river bank makes the place like a scene right out of lord of the rings.
At the back of the park there was meadowville village. The whole area is conserved by the government. And the whole community was indefinable when it comes to beauty.
I felt that I was going through some post card scenes.
Well now we have decided to cycle the whole path next Sunday.
My feet are still sore. It will take some time to gain back the lost stamina.
Walking for 6 hours yesterday is showing up today. I have found an awesome companion and friend, huma anty. In spite of the age gap we have lot more to talk. I like her adventurous spirit. Yesterday when I was a bit hesitant to step up in the thick forest near the ravine she motivated me.
Tracking for 6 hours was fruitful and we found the credit view river park right near our neighborhood. The whole area is filled with ever green trees bushes and yes the river bank makes the place like a scene right out of lord of the rings.
At the back of the park there was meadowville village. The whole area is conserved by the government. And the whole community was indefinable when it comes to beauty.
I felt that I was going through some post card scenes.
Well now we have decided to cycle the whole path next Sunday.
My feet are still sore. It will take some time to gain back the lost stamina.
You call it seduction and i call it comedy
.”A dying animal”.
I am reading phillip Roth. The novel is one of his works which are not that remarkable in literary world. But the 156 page novel has blown the innate doctrine of some ideas which has always form the core of my personal believes.
The moral dilemma western world faces with a revolution which is aimed at objectifying humans into desires and needs.
The whole game of mating masked in the sophisticated veneer of culture poetry and words. The story evolves around a 64 year promiscuous professor who ended up having an affair with a student who was 24 at that time and then suffers with cancer at the later stage of the novel.
There are no chapters in the novel and the narration is superb entwined with many other stories. Each creating a storm of thoughts and raising many philosophical questions related to the modern age.
The dilemma of modern woman, her independence, her experimentation with her own body in name of liberation.” she never loved me she never desired me she experimented with me” The desire, household and dating.
What is important in life? Companionship, security of house hold or desire.
Do we really love the person we desire at animal level? Is the game of mating called love?
Can words mask the bitter realities of life?
There are some quotes I am savoring on from the whole morning. It is one of the books I read in one go.A true pleasure for some one who has the courage to think and realize .
“His adultery is not adultery it is an arrangement”.
“I think you were whole love fractured you”.
“It was about puritan, make a great show of religion but no humanity”.
“Can I master the discipline of freedom as opposed to the recklessness of emotion”.
“who are the new people when you meet them? They are the same old people in masks. They have nothing new about them”.
“There is a heavy past clinging to the future”
“It was a human right issue, give me liberty or give me death”.
“Coupled life and family life bring out every thing childish in every one involve.”.
Even though phillip roth is depressing but reading him is mentally stimulating and is worth the time.
I am reading phillip Roth. The novel is one of his works which are not that remarkable in literary world. But the 156 page novel has blown the innate doctrine of some ideas which has always form the core of my personal believes.
The moral dilemma western world faces with a revolution which is aimed at objectifying humans into desires and needs.
The whole game of mating masked in the sophisticated veneer of culture poetry and words. The story evolves around a 64 year promiscuous professor who ended up having an affair with a student who was 24 at that time and then suffers with cancer at the later stage of the novel.
There are no chapters in the novel and the narration is superb entwined with many other stories. Each creating a storm of thoughts and raising many philosophical questions related to the modern age.
The dilemma of modern woman, her independence, her experimentation with her own body in name of liberation.” she never loved me she never desired me she experimented with me” The desire, household and dating.
What is important in life? Companionship, security of house hold or desire.
Do we really love the person we desire at animal level? Is the game of mating called love?
Can words mask the bitter realities of life?
There are some quotes I am savoring on from the whole morning. It is one of the books I read in one go.A true pleasure for some one who has the courage to think and realize .
“His adultery is not adultery it is an arrangement”.
“I think you were whole love fractured you”.
“It was about puritan, make a great show of religion but no humanity”.
“Can I master the discipline of freedom as opposed to the recklessness of emotion”.
“who are the new people when you meet them? They are the same old people in masks. They have nothing new about them”.
“There is a heavy past clinging to the future”
“It was a human right issue, give me liberty or give me death”.
“Coupled life and family life bring out every thing childish in every one involve.”.
Even though phillip roth is depressing but reading him is mentally stimulating and is worth the time.
October 18, 2006
just a thought.....
Last evening....
while stirring the suger in my companion's cup....
a moment flashed across my eyes.....
years back.....
in lahore.....
the same season...the same weather....
But the tea was different....
i was different...you were different...
the world was a closed protected place...
with loved ones to take care of...
with lights and music...
laughter and sunshine...
and yes dreams...
dreams of being together for a life time...
dreams of being us ......
your occasional smile....
staring me with a familarity beyond words....
your three moles near the ears.....
and i counting them with my eyes......
and in those few scarce moments....
you made me....
feel as a woman....
a desired woman....
a woman in love.........
but the world is not that any more...
and some times i just think....
that does your companion makes tea as good as i did...
or does she counts the moles on the side of your ears.....
and if she does.....
does she feels that some one else...
years ago has done the same....
desired you with a strength which was beyond...her being...
beyond your being...
its just a thought in a dying evening....
just a thought.....
Last evening....
while stirring the suger in my companion's cup....
a moment flashed across my eyes.....
years back.....
in lahore.....
the same season...the same weather....
But the tea was different....
i was different...you were different...
the world was a closed protected place...
with loved ones to take care of...
with lights and music...
laughter and sunshine...
and yes dreams...
dreams of being together for a life time...
dreams of being us ......
your occasional smile....
staring me with a familarity beyond words....
your three moles near the ears.....
and i counting them with my eyes......
and in those few scarce moments....
you made me....
feel as a woman....
a desired woman....
a woman in love.........
but the world is not that any more...
and some times i just think....
that does your companion makes tea as good as i did...
or does she counts the moles on the side of your ears.....
and if she does.....
does she feels that some one else...
years ago has done the same....
desired you with a strength which was beyond...her being...
beyond your being...
its just a thought in a dying evening....
some old blogs
well i was going through postings on my previous blog and i wanted to paste it here out of no reason.This work is as old as one year and during all this time i have chnaged so much.Some of the pieces were inspired from the life of people i know frds,family.But ironically readres thought that in all these stories it was me.How did he cheated you?
Some one mailed?
well who?
so it was kind of interesting.
I guess this is a very private space where very few ppl have an access.And i am kind of diplomatic in writing here as well.
i am just thinking about the amount of mail i got on this single piece.People are so judgemental.Well i do nt mind some one labelling me as alcholic(which definatly i am not) but yes this poem was for a friend breakups are ugly...
for a friend......
In a shot of vodka.....
can i forget the pain...
you inflicted on my soul....
taking me...
loving me...
making me feel as the most beautiful woman in the world...
and then discarding as some used cloth...
which loses it charm with passage of time...
can i forget....
how you made me feel like a high class mistress....
using me in the name of love.....
playing with my emotions....
to use nothing....
but piece of fllesh...
which i was ready to sacrifice on the alter of love....
can i forget....
how you cheated on
2 woman at same time....
and now....
in the sadness of night.....
when i need you....
i want you....
you walked out....
can i forget....
the pain of past....
and agony of future...
in this one last sip,,,,
For steve and... with love...
He stares at my bare skin....
what color is it...
brown..white ..a pale shade of yellow ....againts his white radiant skin..
i wonder and stare back....
how it would have been....
if it would have been some one else....
some one who knew that what i speak in the hours of ecstacy...
in hours of wilderness and in hours of dispair....
he stares at me again...during the time....
for him iam exotic...brown..some one from a far off land...
beautiful....
i looked back...
things are so relative......
some ones browness became beauty in another land!
November 7, 2006
between us.......
taking coffee today in the busy university centre...
my thoughts drifted to you....
probabaly it is over.....
it has to be over...
ethically....
morally....
culturely.....
but then....
who is the second woman.....
i who was there for u for last 4 years......
in every ebb of life...
or she....
who probabaly knows nothing abt u......
i dont have an answer for that...
do u have one?
Some one mailed?
well who?
so it was kind of interesting.
I guess this is a very private space where very few ppl have an access.And i am kind of diplomatic in writing here as well.
i am just thinking about the amount of mail i got on this single piece.People are so judgemental.Well i do nt mind some one labelling me as alcholic(which definatly i am not) but yes this poem was for a friend breakups are ugly...
for a friend......
In a shot of vodka.....
can i forget the pain...
you inflicted on my soul....
taking me...
loving me...
making me feel as the most beautiful woman in the world...
and then discarding as some used cloth...
which loses it charm with passage of time...
can i forget....
how you made me feel like a high class mistress....
using me in the name of love.....
playing with my emotions....
to use nothing....
but piece of fllesh...
which i was ready to sacrifice on the alter of love....
can i forget....
how you cheated on
2 woman at same time....
and now....
in the sadness of night.....
when i need you....
i want you....
you walked out....
can i forget....
the pain of past....
and agony of future...
in this one last sip,,,,
For steve and... with love...
He stares at my bare skin....
what color is it...
brown..white ..a pale shade of yellow ....againts his white radiant skin..
i wonder and stare back....
how it would have been....
if it would have been some one else....
some one who knew that what i speak in the hours of ecstacy...
in hours of wilderness and in hours of dispair....
he stares at me again...during the time....
for him iam exotic...brown..some one from a far off land...
beautiful....
i looked back...
things are so relative......
some ones browness became beauty in another land!
November 7, 2006
between us.......
taking coffee today in the busy university centre...
my thoughts drifted to you....
probabaly it is over.....
it has to be over...
ethically....
morally....
culturely.....
but then....
who is the second woman.....
i who was there for u for last 4 years......
in every ebb of life...
or she....
who probabaly knows nothing abt u......
i dont have an answer for that...
do u have one?
Neurada and i
I avoid translated fiction,poetry or any piece of writing.Every language has its own spirit.And translation kills that spirit blatantly.I read war and peace almost 10 years back from now and that book was a complete torture.
Long dull and boring ,not because of the fact that it is actually boring but the fact that it was translated fiction.
It was another friend in Islamabad who gave me a copy of gracia marquez.The first 10 pages were again boring but then i was lost in the magical realism and thoughts were spinning a web around me.
There was no looking back after that day.Gundra,pablo,drovastky(hope i have spelled the right) they all become a part of my reading routine one after another.
And then i received this poem from some one very close.
It was my first introduction to neurada.
I wish i could know Spanish to understand the emotion in his work.Well the same sigh emerges when i read Hafiz and firdousi.
He is a pleasure.A wizard crafting magic of words.Intimate thoughts written on a page.
Pablo frightens me yet make me realize that words matter some times more than the mere touch of the beloved.
If i claim to have memorized faiz years back then Neruda is now a definite late night read.
He is simple,complete yet intellectually stimulating.
And so here is the piece i love ..all the time
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You
I do not love you except because I love you;
I go from loving to not loving you,
From waiting to not waiting for you
My heart moves from cold to fire.
I love you only because it's you the one I love;
I hate you deeply, and hating you
Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you
Is that I do not see you but love you blindly.
Maybe January light will consume
My heart with its cruel
Ray, stealing my key to true calm.
In this part of the story I am the one who
Dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you,
Because I love you, Love, in fire and blood.
By Pablo neurada....
Long dull and boring ,not because of the fact that it is actually boring but the fact that it was translated fiction.
It was another friend in Islamabad who gave me a copy of gracia marquez.The first 10 pages were again boring but then i was lost in the magical realism and thoughts were spinning a web around me.
There was no looking back after that day.Gundra,pablo,drovastky(hope i have spelled the right) they all become a part of my reading routine one after another.
And then i received this poem from some one very close.
It was my first introduction to neurada.
I wish i could know Spanish to understand the emotion in his work.Well the same sigh emerges when i read Hafiz and firdousi.
He is a pleasure.A wizard crafting magic of words.Intimate thoughts written on a page.
Pablo frightens me yet make me realize that words matter some times more than the mere touch of the beloved.
If i claim to have memorized faiz years back then Neruda is now a definite late night read.
He is simple,complete yet intellectually stimulating.
And so here is the piece i love ..all the time
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You
I do not love you except because I love you;
I go from loving to not loving you,
From waiting to not waiting for you
My heart moves from cold to fire.
I love you only because it's you the one I love;
I hate you deeply, and hating you
Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you
Is that I do not see you but love you blindly.
Maybe January light will consume
My heart with its cruel
Ray, stealing my key to true calm.
In this part of the story I am the one who
Dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you,
Because I love you, Love, in fire and blood.
By Pablo neurada....
Reasons of love
I am going through this 80 page book by harry G farnkfurt and thinking again and again that I need to redefine this term for myself. What is love? It’s pure definition separating lust, obsession habit and infatuation. Does it exist in its pure form where we love to care?
I have claimed more than once to be in love and moreover I believed that love was unconditional.
But is love unconditional in all its meaning. What is the value of love? This question has shaken my conscious in one mighty blow.
Reading it was same as reading john Irving’s Cidar house rules, and then thinking that am I pro life or pro choice, though I still strongly believe that abortion is murder.
Or reading das capital and, then questioning my whole practice of being a Muslim inside out.
Does love has any morality? Is pre marital sex is an expression of love or is it fornication?
Some one touching you in name of love?
There are so many questions and this book is one wonderful read I have in almost 8 months.
The only reason for love is love itself.
I have claimed more than once to be in love and moreover I believed that love was unconditional.
But is love unconditional in all its meaning. What is the value of love? This question has shaken my conscious in one mighty blow.
Reading it was same as reading john Irving’s Cidar house rules, and then thinking that am I pro life or pro choice, though I still strongly believe that abortion is murder.
Or reading das capital and, then questioning my whole practice of being a Muslim inside out.
Does love has any morality? Is pre marital sex is an expression of love or is it fornication?
Some one touching you in name of love?
There are so many questions and this book is one wonderful read I have in almost 8 months.
The only reason for love is love itself.
last night
Last night your lost memory visited my heart
as spring visits the wilderness quietly,
as the breeze echoes the silence of her footfalls
in the desert,
as peace slowly, softly descends on one's sicknes
faiz ahmed faiz
as spring visits the wilderness quietly,
as the breeze echoes the silence of her footfalls
in the desert,
as peace slowly, softly descends on one's sicknes
faiz ahmed faiz
Woh jo tareek rahoo maree gaye ....
First time in history of pakistan ,army has emerged as a rogue element.
And people have realized the fact how they dramatized the stuff and staked thousands of lives,
The uniform is now a symbol of hate which once was a symbol of martyrdom and respect..
deplorable..
And people have realized the fact how they dramatized the stuff and staked thousands of lives,
The uniform is now a symbol of hate which once was a symbol of martyrdom and respect..
deplorable..
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Random thoughts ....
12 is an even number. Even as we mathematicians assume it. All maths is assumption with logic. The day started with a different kind of emotional turmoil. After 8 insomniac nights I was able to have a proper sleep pattern. Amman bashed me, saying that it is the lack of isha prayers which is responsible for the insomnia and night mares.
The only thing I could remember in the morning was the fact that I sobbed last night on amman shoulder.
There was a temptation in morning to pick up the phone and hear his voice on other line and then there was a voice in my brain. Grow up girl.
But we never grow up some times. We try to behave as grown ups.
8,7,6,5 3 steps to left and 4 to right, my aerobic instructor was almost screaming on her highest pitch. It was fourth week in her class.
The first 2 weeks were a torture. People who do weight training do not have good heart rate.
And after the class I was thinking that I have behaved like a weight trainer in life as well. I have always taken the pain and stress in a go thinking that with time it will lose its own intensity. Not realizing that when we suffer, the scars are permanent.
Even though the pain does yield in positive returns at some end of life but the pain do convert into a change and some times damage to human body.
But again I better not be thankless. Life has bestowed me more than I have wanted in life. And yes there is a long way ahead.
But it hurts, it definitely does.
It is an ego war and my ego is bigger than this whole North American continent.
The only thing I could remember in the morning was the fact that I sobbed last night on amman shoulder.
There was a temptation in morning to pick up the phone and hear his voice on other line and then there was a voice in my brain. Grow up girl.
But we never grow up some times. We try to behave as grown ups.
8,7,6,5 3 steps to left and 4 to right, my aerobic instructor was almost screaming on her highest pitch. It was fourth week in her class.
The first 2 weeks were a torture. People who do weight training do not have good heart rate.
And after the class I was thinking that I have behaved like a weight trainer in life as well. I have always taken the pain and stress in a go thinking that with time it will lose its own intensity. Not realizing that when we suffer, the scars are permanent.
Even though the pain does yield in positive returns at some end of life but the pain do convert into a change and some times damage to human body.
But again I better not be thankless. Life has bestowed me more than I have wanted in life. And yes there is a long way ahead.
But it hurts, it definitely does.
It is an ego war and my ego is bigger than this whole North American continent.
Sunday, July 8, 2007
One crazy week....
It has been a crazy week. The news media, family gossip machines every thing was churning news which were going on my nerves.
Amman is upset on the fact that she came to know it so later, but I feel so lighted on knowing all the facts now in one way. Life is so funny at times.
Insomnia is back, and I spend most of my nights going through open and close door policies in china. I am amazed on the fact that how a research proposal on comparative economic systems is ending up to be a whole synopsis of international trade scene. Ironically I hate international trade but being a macro economist you have to endure all the crap.
So the news was not new. I was waiting for it from so many months and it did not make any effect what so ever emotionally. I am numb.
I guess I am over with making shrines I made out of stupid memories and weeping on them. Or the past few years have changed me more from a conventional woman to a blatantly independent woman.
The whole scenario was not at all disturbing. I guess I am over with the teenage crush. And assuming that it s love which I nurtured over years in some darkened chamber.
Hoping that things will come on my terms. But they never did, they never could have..
and i in my romantic idyllic world assumed stuff which was never suppose to happen.
I should have known that I will always be a small town girl, simple rigid. The girl he saw in kitchen making chapattis on vacations.
But then again i am not the woman he rejected 2 years back. So it was an ego war. And that ego war changed so much.
I have a bright career in front and yes i have proved to people academically and socially that yes I am smart..(what a dilemma you have to prove with your transcripts that you are able).
I better bury the ghosts of the past. Or i guess happiness and life only demand this from me..
Amman is upset on the fact that she came to know it so later, but I feel so lighted on knowing all the facts now in one way. Life is so funny at times.
Insomnia is back, and I spend most of my nights going through open and close door policies in china. I am amazed on the fact that how a research proposal on comparative economic systems is ending up to be a whole synopsis of international trade scene. Ironically I hate international trade but being a macro economist you have to endure all the crap.
So the news was not new. I was waiting for it from so many months and it did not make any effect what so ever emotionally. I am numb.
I guess I am over with making shrines I made out of stupid memories and weeping on them. Or the past few years have changed me more from a conventional woman to a blatantly independent woman.
The whole scenario was not at all disturbing. I guess I am over with the teenage crush. And assuming that it s love which I nurtured over years in some darkened chamber.
Hoping that things will come on my terms. But they never did, they never could have..
and i in my romantic idyllic world assumed stuff which was never suppose to happen.
I should have known that I will always be a small town girl, simple rigid. The girl he saw in kitchen making chapattis on vacations.
But then again i am not the woman he rejected 2 years back. So it was an ego war. And that ego war changed so much.
I have a bright career in front and yes i have proved to people academically and socially that yes I am smart..(what a dilemma you have to prove with your transcripts that you are able).
I better bury the ghosts of the past. Or i guess happiness and life only demand this from me..
Friday, July 6, 2007
Two facets of one coin
Switch on the TV. There are two ary channels available in North America. One is ary digital and other is ary one. One is streaming images of a siege around a mosque in the heart of capital city. Those who have lived in Islamabad know what abpara and melody are all about.
The second one is showing “divas talking” ridiculous face of another Pakistan.
Women speaking in a funny accent, and talking about trivial issues(I bet it is all gossip and no issue). You switch on other channels and you wonder that where in hell in Pakistan these women who wear these tank tops and Capri’s.
Where are these smoke puffing bimbos Pakistani media is portraying daily?
On one hand we look like a state without a writ. A bunch of religious morons and on other hand we have pseudo elements in the society.
A rogue culture. A society within a society.
And yes MARX was right.We are suffering from the worst economic apartheid.
We are moving towards if not a revolution then definitely a disaster.
It is depressing and yes enlightening.
As there is always hope and yes every night has a morning.
The second one is showing “divas talking” ridiculous face of another Pakistan.
Women speaking in a funny accent, and talking about trivial issues(I bet it is all gossip and no issue). You switch on other channels and you wonder that where in hell in Pakistan these women who wear these tank tops and Capri’s.
Where are these smoke puffing bimbos Pakistani media is portraying daily?
On one hand we look like a state without a writ. A bunch of religious morons and on other hand we have pseudo elements in the society.
A rogue culture. A society within a society.
And yes MARX was right.We are suffering from the worst economic apartheid.
We are moving towards if not a revolution then definitely a disaster.
It is depressing and yes enlightening.
As there is always hope and yes every night has a morning.
Curiousity kills the cat
I know this....
but i am too curious about some one.....
Do you miss him...
wat kind of question is it ossama?
just asked....
i dont know.....
Just curious why he did that....
well some times you dont need to have answers...
he did nt desreved you...
ya you are saying because i am your sister and ...
and wat.....
you know what you are.....
yes....conservative meek...old traditionalist......
and by all this feminist stance you are trying to prove that you are not one?
I dont care abt that any more you know this.....
Have you seen her?
No.....
why are u so curious....
I dont know...
probably my ego.....
ahhh...u wanna know how better is she....
hahahahaha...no comparisons....
i know what i am...
then?
i have no idea....
its just that.....
family gossips?
hurts....
well iam over with all family crap i dont care....
what you people assume...or will assume..
ahh....
You are too curious...
get over him....
ahh...
dear how can i tell you i am over with all this...
but a hurt ego needs answers.
but i am too curious about some one.....
Do you miss him...
wat kind of question is it ossama?
just asked....
i dont know.....
Just curious why he did that....
well some times you dont need to have answers...
he did nt desreved you...
ya you are saying because i am your sister and ...
and wat.....
you know what you are.....
yes....conservative meek...old traditionalist......
and by all this feminist stance you are trying to prove that you are not one?
I dont care abt that any more you know this.....
Have you seen her?
No.....
why are u so curious....
I dont know...
probably my ego.....
ahhh...u wanna know how better is she....
hahahahaha...no comparisons....
i know what i am...
then?
i have no idea....
its just that.....
family gossips?
hurts....
well iam over with all family crap i dont care....
what you people assume...or will assume..
ahh....
You are too curious...
get over him....
ahh...
dear how can i tell you i am over with all this...
but a hurt ego needs answers.
Curiousity kills the cat
I know this....
but i am too curious about some one.....
Do you miss him...
wat kind of question is it ossama?
just asked....
i dont know.....
Just curious why he did that....
well some times you dont need to have answers...
he did nt desreved you...
ya you are saying because i am your sister and ...
and wat.....
you know what you are.....
yes....conservative meek...old traditionalist......
and by all this feminist stance you are trying to prove that you are not one?
I dont care abt that any more you know this.....
Have you seen her?
No.....
why are u so curious....
I dont know...
probably my ego.....
ahhh...u wanna know how better is she....
hahahahaha...no comparisons....
i know what i am...
then?
i have no idea....
its just that.....
family gossips?
hurts....
well iam over with all family crap i dont care....
what you people assume...or will assume..
ahh....
You are too curious...
get over him....
ahh...
dear how can i tell you i am over with all this...
but a hurt ego needs answers.
but i am too curious about some one.....
Do you miss him...
wat kind of question is it ossama?
just asked....
i dont know.....
Just curious why he did that....
well some times you dont need to have answers...
he did nt desreved you...
ya you are saying because i am your sister and ...
and wat.....
you know what you are.....
yes....conservative meek...old traditionalist......
and by all this feminist stance you are trying to prove that you are not one?
I dont care abt that any more you know this.....
Have you seen her?
No.....
why are u so curious....
I dont know...
probably my ego.....
ahhh...u wanna know how better is she....
hahahahaha...no comparisons....
i know what i am...
then?
i have no idea....
its just that.....
family gossips?
hurts....
well iam over with all family crap i dont care....
what you people assume...or will assume..
ahh....
You are too curious...
get over him....
ahh...
dear how can i tell you i am over with all this...
but a hurt ego needs answers.
Thursday, July 5, 2007
Changes.....
West has changed something intrinsically in me. That is the approach to judge people. During my growing up years I had the old time criteria. If you study well and get good grades you are smart and thus have a great life ahead.
All of my life I had strived to work hard get good grades and reach where this clan of nerd wants me to be(I guess I am the only person in family who will be a non medical dr…if I finished the program).
But now credential and resumes do not impress me. I have seen jerks from so called iv leagues and weirdoes from first tier schools. People boasting about the number of credit cards they have in their wallet to the carats of diamonds they can buy for their wives.
The approach is too shallow.
So yes humans are more than credentials and resumes. There should be better criteria’s to judge people.
But then in academics education is a good filter.
Ironic is not it?
All of my life I had strived to work hard get good grades and reach where this clan of nerd wants me to be(I guess I am the only person in family who will be a non medical dr…if I finished the program).
But now credential and resumes do not impress me. I have seen jerks from so called iv leagues and weirdoes from first tier schools. People boasting about the number of credit cards they have in their wallet to the carats of diamonds they can buy for their wives.
The approach is too shallow.
So yes humans are more than credentials and resumes. There should be better criteria’s to judge people.
But then in academics education is a good filter.
Ironic is not it?
Phantasmagoria…
oday I am in memory lanes trying to recall what ever is there in the dark alleys of my brain. The time of the year when usually results are out matriculation level o level chiefly. I did my metric or according to correct English grammar took my metric exams in year 1998.
Those days the times were definitely different. There was no internet. Yes there was but then it was 90 rupees per hour and we had to log from Lahore which was immensely expensive. There was no cable as it’s a normal norm these days in Pakistan. Instead of cabal we had the satellite dish with only 10 channels.
Bbc,Zee tv star plus the English one and few Chinese channels which never made sense except the animes we tried to watch ones in the blue moon.
I scored 675 marks in matric and I wept for 20 days. It was the first shock in real world. Moral…”we never get what we want in life”. The end of this was that I got into a small collage rather than following my mothers foot steps to Lahore collage for woman.
It was a small town collage with broken bricks and haunted grounds. The teachers were awfully haughty with sorry to say no sense of teaching or the word teacher itself.
I still feel a disdain about the place after so many years.
The agony of those days flashes back in my memories day after another.
My biology teacher use to dress up as a drug junkie and she was famous in collage for doing drugs. Well still she is a mystery. She use to enter the class open the zoology book and read in a language which was definitely not English.
But i still respect her for at least trying to come and attend the classes.
Then we had this physics teacher who never attended the class. She use to come all the way from Lahore well once a month. So she never was in the class.
The only worth mentioning teacher was Mrs Huma.She was young a new graduate and very enthusiastic. She was regular in attending the classes and enjoyed her work.
Then again I never saw the face of my English teacher during 2 years or my Islamic studies teacher. I even don’t know their names.
The 2 years were awesome in many ways. The collage had a good library. I read good fiction.Manto..i remember the look on face of librarian when she saw me reading manto and then borrowing it.
Quratulain haider..i read Agg ka dariya 9 times.Daphne du maurier…I read each and every piece of her work.
So I found the cure for my loneliness in the dysfunctional atmosphere of govt collage for woman sheikhupura.
Now when I look back I feel amazed the way I survived the atmosphere and then came out as a better person.
I scored aweful marks in my fsc 735.And so again my whole career was jeopardized. I was not a very good student but my average dropped from 80% to just a mere of 65%.
Those were bleak days. My parents were ready to buy me an admission in a private medical collage and I wanted to prove that I can do better than that.
At the end of day I did bsc from the same place went to a public university and then choose economics as a serious career path.
Some times when I look back I wonder that how I made through it all,
with out teachers with, out good books and definitely without any solid inspiration.
I was a small town girl with no exposure except books.
But I wanted to look outside the box and feel the life in my own way.
But every one is not as lucky as I was.
But still in my own neighborhood I have tremendous examples of females breaking the stereotype barriers and entering the labor force in non stereo type roles other than doctors or teachers.
But it is true that education at school and collage level needs to be revised again. We need good teachers and good planners with definitely a good accountability system.
I did my Ba from a collage which does not have any alumni or a recognized name.
I remember that when I was applying for my graduate studies in north America 4 universities mailed me back that my Ba was not from a recognized place and then I had to mail the Punjab university degree to prove my credentials.
It was a thorny way. But all is well that ends well.Today I am in a phantasmagoria.
When I look back I want to sit and pray To Allah for awarding me with things and opportunities I never had a hint about.
I don’t have any hand on the place where iam…
I am still a small town girl from a collage without alumni……
Those days the times were definitely different. There was no internet. Yes there was but then it was 90 rupees per hour and we had to log from Lahore which was immensely expensive. There was no cable as it’s a normal norm these days in Pakistan. Instead of cabal we had the satellite dish with only 10 channels.
Bbc,Zee tv star plus the English one and few Chinese channels which never made sense except the animes we tried to watch ones in the blue moon.
I scored 675 marks in matric and I wept for 20 days. It was the first shock in real world. Moral…”we never get what we want in life”. The end of this was that I got into a small collage rather than following my mothers foot steps to Lahore collage for woman.
It was a small town collage with broken bricks and haunted grounds. The teachers were awfully haughty with sorry to say no sense of teaching or the word teacher itself.
I still feel a disdain about the place after so many years.
The agony of those days flashes back in my memories day after another.
My biology teacher use to dress up as a drug junkie and she was famous in collage for doing drugs. Well still she is a mystery. She use to enter the class open the zoology book and read in a language which was definitely not English.
But i still respect her for at least trying to come and attend the classes.
Then we had this physics teacher who never attended the class. She use to come all the way from Lahore well once a month. So she never was in the class.
The only worth mentioning teacher was Mrs Huma.She was young a new graduate and very enthusiastic. She was regular in attending the classes and enjoyed her work.
Then again I never saw the face of my English teacher during 2 years or my Islamic studies teacher. I even don’t know their names.
The 2 years were awesome in many ways. The collage had a good library. I read good fiction.Manto..i remember the look on face of librarian when she saw me reading manto and then borrowing it.
Quratulain haider..i read Agg ka dariya 9 times.Daphne du maurier…I read each and every piece of her work.
So I found the cure for my loneliness in the dysfunctional atmosphere of govt collage for woman sheikhupura.
Now when I look back I feel amazed the way I survived the atmosphere and then came out as a better person.
I scored aweful marks in my fsc 735.And so again my whole career was jeopardized. I was not a very good student but my average dropped from 80% to just a mere of 65%.
Those were bleak days. My parents were ready to buy me an admission in a private medical collage and I wanted to prove that I can do better than that.
At the end of day I did bsc from the same place went to a public university and then choose economics as a serious career path.
Some times when I look back I wonder that how I made through it all,
with out teachers with, out good books and definitely without any solid inspiration.
I was a small town girl with no exposure except books.
But I wanted to look outside the box and feel the life in my own way.
But every one is not as lucky as I was.
But still in my own neighborhood I have tremendous examples of females breaking the stereotype barriers and entering the labor force in non stereo type roles other than doctors or teachers.
But it is true that education at school and collage level needs to be revised again. We need good teachers and good planners with definitely a good accountability system.
I did my Ba from a collage which does not have any alumni or a recognized name.
I remember that when I was applying for my graduate studies in north America 4 universities mailed me back that my Ba was not from a recognized place and then I had to mail the Punjab university degree to prove my credentials.
It was a thorny way. But all is well that ends well.Today I am in a phantasmagoria.
When I look back I want to sit and pray To Allah for awarding me with things and opportunities I never had a hint about.
I don’t have any hand on the place where iam…
I am still a small town girl from a collage without alumni……
Forgetting love...
I am not afraid of loving.Iam afraid of forgetting love
and so i sperate my naked body to the evenings...to the
breeze of the september night not far away from winter
leave my kisses to the yellow and red butterflies
to allow them to fly in my absence
leave my passionate poems to the rivers
so that they can recite them to passserbys...
leave my scent to my old lovers
leave my fantacies to those i saw once
leave my secrets to the pages of books
leave the pavilion of laughter
and weeping pavilions side by side
leave all the blomming tress to my dreams
so that they can remeber that happiness
is in the legs of nature and silence can be as painful
as love that love smiles but is never satisfied
is happy but is never too long as a stranger
in your bed who speaks to you as he loves you
knowing he will never see you
and who are we after making love after every lover?
are we still afraid what love might do to us?
I speak for those who feel the way i do
i do belive i must leave of me to some one some place
so that they could remeber me...
by nathalie handal...
and so i sperate my naked body to the evenings...to the
breeze of the september night not far away from winter
leave my kisses to the yellow and red butterflies
to allow them to fly in my absence
leave my passionate poems to the rivers
so that they can recite them to passserbys...
leave my scent to my old lovers
leave my fantacies to those i saw once
leave my secrets to the pages of books
leave the pavilion of laughter
and weeping pavilions side by side
leave all the blomming tress to my dreams
so that they can remeber that happiness
is in the legs of nature and silence can be as painful
as love that love smiles but is never satisfied
is happy but is never too long as a stranger
in your bed who speaks to you as he loves you
knowing he will never see you
and who are we after making love after every lover?
are we still afraid what love might do to us?
I speak for those who feel the way i do
i do belive i must leave of me to some one some place
so that they could remeber me...
by nathalie handal...
Libraries
My romance with libraries is as old as my yearning to learn. The first time I entered a proper library was in 1994 and it was British council Lahore. I was a kid at that time and the whole paraphernalia of British council was alluring and magical.
Same year my mom got us the membership of children library again in Lahore. I had read numerous classics and hardy boys courtesy of that place.
Then it was the library of government collage for woman sheikhupura which opened the whole plethora of books for me.Quratullain haider,manto,daphne du maurrier and many favorites were the read during that stay.
But libraries were a source of books not an abode to stay and study. Qau changed that whole scenario when I spend more than 8 hours straight in central going through the preparation for terminals and midterms.
Mississauga central became my refuge when we moved to ca 3 years back and then the usual local library across the road.
But Roberts was the place which changed my whole view about libraries. Being the hub of student activities in u of t Roberts does not only promise a serene environment but yes really good books needed for academic research.
On other hand the whole condition of library at u of Mississauga is beyond words. Small with a very hostile attitude u of Mississauga was another place I started disliking during my research work at gta.
As a research student library is important tool and need. Though most of journals are on line but the feel of going through paper and print is a pleasure which only a book junky can understand.
University of Ottawa has a very French impact and that’s the same reason for hating the library. I prefer to stay in the home library at carleton to work then to go through the pain of French/English translator.
And since I am home these days and have to go to u of Mississauga to work on research the pain of strangeness and aloofness strikes again and again.
I miss my home library and yes I miss school too….
Same year my mom got us the membership of children library again in Lahore. I had read numerous classics and hardy boys courtesy of that place.
Then it was the library of government collage for woman sheikhupura which opened the whole plethora of books for me.Quratullain haider,manto,daphne du maurrier and many favorites were the read during that stay.
But libraries were a source of books not an abode to stay and study. Qau changed that whole scenario when I spend more than 8 hours straight in central going through the preparation for terminals and midterms.
Mississauga central became my refuge when we moved to ca 3 years back and then the usual local library across the road.
But Roberts was the place which changed my whole view about libraries. Being the hub of student activities in u of t Roberts does not only promise a serene environment but yes really good books needed for academic research.
On other hand the whole condition of library at u of Mississauga is beyond words. Small with a very hostile attitude u of Mississauga was another place I started disliking during my research work at gta.
As a research student library is important tool and need. Though most of journals are on line but the feel of going through paper and print is a pleasure which only a book junky can understand.
University of Ottawa has a very French impact and that’s the same reason for hating the library. I prefer to stay in the home library at carleton to work then to go through the pain of French/English translator.
And since I am home these days and have to go to u of Mississauga to work on research the pain of strangeness and aloofness strikes again and again.
I miss my home library and yes I miss school too….
Thoughts~another insomniac night....
Love is too over rated
Or people around me use it in wrong context; can a human mating ritual of wooing be termed as love?
Is love so fragile that it changes color with every fall.
Is love so common that you can fall in and out of it easily?
Did I love him?
Did he love me?
Or was it a ritual like all rituals.
Or self love is the only love?
Confused and tormented by this question tonight.
Or people around me use it in wrong context; can a human mating ritual of wooing be termed as love?
Is love so fragile that it changes color with every fall.
Is love so common that you can fall in and out of it easily?
Did I love him?
Did he love me?
Or was it a ritual like all rituals.
Or self love is the only love?
Confused and tormented by this question tonight.
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
random.....
What do you wanna prove?
She asked me again in a bit harsh manner.Nothing.i said silently.
Have you ever observed your life from the last 10 months? What do you want to prove by your non social attitude?
Nothing I said silently again.
She is ranting she is shouting she raises her voice making points and I am looking at the plate with cake crumbs which I had lavishly enjoyed with a cup of darkly brewed coffee another addiction west instilled in me.
Why are you doing this to you self saro?
Doing what?
I asked again?
With drawl..
From whom?
Life
Ahhh
I am trying my level best…
And what is this arrange marriage crap..
I know you do not want to get married.
You can not get married without reason and in your own word love is the only reason.
Love is illusion and I am out of it..
Please do not contradict yourself.
She starred again.
Am I in a court of law?
No..
You have to give explanation, why are you so non social and from when have you started offending people with this lethal wit of yours.
That poor girl was …
Was what
All dressed up and behaving as if she owns the world.
You know I hate these fake parties and more over the fake stuff..
Too judgmental..
No
Too pragmatic..
Socialize.
I do..
Well socialize in the own circle..
Not that activist circles of yours..
What do you want to prove that you are smart?
I am smart do not tell me this.
I reached so far...
Ya and now you are hurting people around you.
Just imagine when the guy will came to know you want to get married to have kids and just his name.
What’s wrong in that?
Every body does that?
If I am thinking this way then what?
And yes the argument continued leaving me to think that in which direction I am moving my life. half of our lives we think that we are smart and the other half we try proving to people around us that we are smart. I lived through dilemmas in my life. Studying subjects which were awe fully wrong falling in love with people and ambitions which were not mine.
And now when every thing is in right place in my idea it is all messed up for people around me.
First a career and a degree were important. Now a trophy man is needed.
And yes I want life on my own. On my own terms and on my own wishes and yes on the idea of what I believe not on what others do…I do not know there are just grey zones ahead.
She asked me again in a bit harsh manner.Nothing.i said silently.
Have you ever observed your life from the last 10 months? What do you want to prove by your non social attitude?
Nothing I said silently again.
She is ranting she is shouting she raises her voice making points and I am looking at the plate with cake crumbs which I had lavishly enjoyed with a cup of darkly brewed coffee another addiction west instilled in me.
Why are you doing this to you self saro?
Doing what?
I asked again?
With drawl..
From whom?
Life
Ahhh
I am trying my level best…
And what is this arrange marriage crap..
I know you do not want to get married.
You can not get married without reason and in your own word love is the only reason.
Love is illusion and I am out of it..
Please do not contradict yourself.
She starred again.
Am I in a court of law?
No..
You have to give explanation, why are you so non social and from when have you started offending people with this lethal wit of yours.
That poor girl was …
Was what
All dressed up and behaving as if she owns the world.
You know I hate these fake parties and more over the fake stuff..
Too judgmental..
No
Too pragmatic..
Socialize.
I do..
Well socialize in the own circle..
Not that activist circles of yours..
What do you want to prove that you are smart?
I am smart do not tell me this.
I reached so far...
Ya and now you are hurting people around you.
Just imagine when the guy will came to know you want to get married to have kids and just his name.
What’s wrong in that?
Every body does that?
If I am thinking this way then what?
And yes the argument continued leaving me to think that in which direction I am moving my life. half of our lives we think that we are smart and the other half we try proving to people around us that we are smart. I lived through dilemmas in my life. Studying subjects which were awe fully wrong falling in love with people and ambitions which were not mine.
And now when every thing is in right place in my idea it is all messed up for people around me.
First a career and a degree were important. Now a trophy man is needed.
And yes I want life on my own. On my own terms and on my own wishes and yes on the idea of what I believe not on what others do…I do not know there are just grey zones ahead.
Sunday, July 1, 2007
Another year
I registered for the next academic year 2 days back. At that time i was wondering that how many more brutal years I have to endure. But yes it was my own choice in the first place and academics is one thing in life that is really a source of happiness.
The challenge the excitement the solitude and yes the loneliness .There are so many facets. And yes this journey has made me realize the importance of learning and teaching in one way or another.
So the summer is almost at end. When vacations started I planned to improve the gre score but after knowing that the school of my choice does not need any gre score i whole endeavor went down the drain.
Today when bhai asked out of no where that why i had disposed of the idea of duke at end of day and i had no logical answer. Funding...you are doing bs.(bull shit ).
And yes the reality is that I do not want to go to usa any more. The reason is absolutely stupid and naive.
But yes then we all have reasons stupid or logical ones. I won’t even dream of crossing that state any more.
Life changes so many things...
and yes it is true that things which we do not plan happen at end of day. And now I am all my way for the bigger end. It is exciting but scary. Promising but lonely.
But then again ravs was right"every road does not lead to heart".
And I guess in this whole pursuit of knowledge I blocked that road even for the one who wanted to take it for me.
Regrets regrets and more regrets
The challenge the excitement the solitude and yes the loneliness .There are so many facets. And yes this journey has made me realize the importance of learning and teaching in one way or another.
So the summer is almost at end. When vacations started I planned to improve the gre score but after knowing that the school of my choice does not need any gre score i whole endeavor went down the drain.
Today when bhai asked out of no where that why i had disposed of the idea of duke at end of day and i had no logical answer. Funding...you are doing bs.(bull shit ).
And yes the reality is that I do not want to go to usa any more. The reason is absolutely stupid and naive.
But yes then we all have reasons stupid or logical ones. I won’t even dream of crossing that state any more.
Life changes so many things...
and yes it is true that things which we do not plan happen at end of day. And now I am all my way for the bigger end. It is exciting but scary. Promising but lonely.
But then again ravs was right"every road does not lead to heart".
And I guess in this whole pursuit of knowledge I blocked that road even for the one who wanted to take it for me.
Regrets regrets and more regrets
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