Dr. K

January 30th, 2007 / 10:21 AM / DLKE

Just met a teacher. I never liked him. I never hated him either. He taught us biochemistry which is why he, as the people say, developed a complex that his subject is minor and makes him not as big or as important as other deans of the other departments. Some of his habits point out to that too. Just consider this fact. There used to be four lectures and one laboratory session for biochemistry. But now two lectures and the laboratory session are scheduled for Saturday. One biochemistry lecture happens from 8 to 9 at the start of the day. The lab happens at 11. And the last lecture with which the day ends is also taken up by his lecture. That is done intentionally so no student could ever skip classes or enjoy longer weekends. People who live in the hostel but are from the surrounding cities like Kasoor and Gujranwala used to leave for homes on Friday after the first compulsory class of anatomy ends at 10. So to stop that practice, our biochemistry dean introduced the mandatory attendance for those clever folks. Almost all of my weekends go by at the hostel. So I am finding the near suffocating filled classroom on Saturdays very entertaining. Still, I don’t like Dr. K. His name starts with a K. Seriously. He is writing a book about preclinical biochemistry. I hope if that ever reaches the markets, people will believe that his name really starts with a K. Sach.

Langra Gandu

January 25th, 2007 / 4:32 PM / 313 FH

I am too lazy to join the exercise bandwagon. But Lala has decided to exercise. I don’t know how that idea has popped up in his head. But we were in the ground today. It would have been more relaxing if we were just sitting on the edge and had watched the football match instead. But the sudden strenuous work has made the mind lighter and empty already. I wonder if we go for that again tomorrow. The match however got interesting when a fourth year junior mocked the ill-mannered goalkeeper of the final year. That final year’s keeper is a foul mouth person. He lives in the same block as us. And every morning we see his snake sitting in the latrine because he is too bad mannered to wash his shit away. He has one leg shorter than the other and that makes him limp. That junior called him a langra because of which he lost his already bad temper. He is one of those we never liked. And we are not the only beings in the hostel who don't like him for his behavior. In fact no one likes him. He wears a pair of spectacles when playing football. Battery. Langra. Gandu. 

Landing Back

January 11th, 2007 / 11:34 PM / 313 FH
It was my flight back to Pakistan. Lala had come to  receive me from the airport. We did not go back to the hospital straight. A distraction came up and we had to follow that distraction. There are some tasks that always suit young man. It would look very odd for a very old man or even just an old man to follow any distraction no matter how strong the element of attraction is. Our adventure took us to an old part of the city called Krishan Nagar.We got hungry which is why we left our adventure in the middle and headed straight to the hostel and dropped the luggage. our next stop was obvious. any restaurant that would serve our taste Buds and empty stomachs. I noted that during all that time Lala was constantly bombarded with text messages. the smile on his face is another indication that something is not from the days when I went back. a few weeks are enough for a man to forget old wounds and find a new source for more injuries. no I don't want him to get injured at all. it is he himself.
 As I write this on the diary, Lala has gone outside to attend a phone call which is very uncommon time for a family member to call him. Uncle calls him around evening. Maybe if somebody wants to become a family member only then is this the absolutely right time to call. I just had Chaat which Munshi Muneer brought from Gawal Mandi. I had missed chaat during this vacation. Tomorrow I have to meet my lawyer as well. I am too tired now to pen down any other colored or colourless thoughts. A few messages have appeared on my phone from a few distractions. But I have no energy left to exchange any kicks or words. Good night!
 

Rahima

January 2nd, 2007 / 10:08 PM / Ras Tanura

I want to meet Haider uncle. Going to that old city is just like meeting own’s self stuck in time. I have heard that whenever a man goes to a place he has lived, He always meets his own self. As the city is not that big it has not seen rapid or drastic changes.  Except for a park which has been renovated, almost everything looks like unchanged. that first stop still exists from where I used to catch a bus to school. I have heard that the bus driver uncle left that job some years ago. I know that still some school kids would use this bus stop with a new driver. this is an analogue it to life itself.  somebody is living the same life again just like somebody live the life before me. We are all given different characters that we live and then we move on to a better place as they say. Hyder uncle was complaining about some ups and downs in his life. From the day we are going to the day we are no more we keep fighting resistance against us. I guess that is one way of defining life.