August 1st, 2018 / 05:51 PM
They don’t understand the waves that reach the shores.
They don’t understand the songs they carry.
They don’t understand the things they speak.
August 1st, 2018 / 05:51 PM
They don’t understand the waves that reach the shores.
They don’t understand the songs they carry.
They don’t understand the things they speak.
July 28th, 2018 / 10:55 AM
I peeled the skin of a woman and under that was her truer self. The curious monster who looked so good. There is no doubt that with the charms of those appearance, there would be many fools of men the monster would have pulled and swallowed. A monster, however, lived inside me too. Not as charming and nor as ugly as hers, it saw the broken skin on her outsides. Curiosity made him have a look inside. In the end it was frightened and I was content. My hunch was right. The ugly monster is still alive.
July 1st, 2018 / 4:24 AM
It’s someone’s birthday. Everyday is someone’s birthday. So is today. When we were together we had a good time. A golden time perhaps. Only if that could be re-lived. But the bigger question is a forgetting. Will either of us forget that again if we relive it? But the question breaks when I realize that I have not forgotten it at all. I have no idea of the other side. If someone comes and sees my end, they will still find my side of the bridge intact. Maybe the same exists on the other end. Yet the bridge fell. It is another why that cracks all the peaceful sleep and harmony. When we were together we once talked about life and afterlife and decided that either of us who stays behind when one is no more should tell the next ones about how many years we stayed in each other's lives. I still believe that silence is not absence, it never is. Has God ever talked to you? Yet when you pray, you think that he is there. The number of years we talked are now less than the number of years we haven’t. I wish the wiser of us was more wise. And I play the role of a fool in most plots. It is the first of July and I wish happiness for the other end of the bridge, even if it has fallen.
June 24th, 2018 / 4:00 AM
WestWorld’s season two comes to an end. But as it has become a successful franchise, the producers will keep skimming profit from making sequels and spinoffs. The first season Made me watch the very first movie from which the season was inspired in the first. I found the plot of the first season very similar to the original movie which had pretty lame special effects as compared to the modern time. Everybody was talking about the second season but it was not released in a way Netflix releases its Originals. All the episodes were not released on the first day which is why I was waiting for the day when the last episode gets aired and then I can watch the entire season peacefully without any breaks.
A good idea when always leave some marks on your mind even when you don't want any.
The similarity shown in the drama with that of religious preachings and what effect religion and Society has on the life of a person cannot be missed once you start thinking about the analogy shown in the drama. Higher intelligent beings create a park for their own dark fantasies which they cannot satisfy easily in their everyday world. To populate that park they create inferior mechanical beings which are posted to play their own roles following repeated narratives. From ancient Greece to the Pharaohs and from the ancient recorded religions to the modern interpretations of Christianity and Islam, the two major religions in the modern day world, this similarity cannot be overlooked. Movies have talked about it, stories exist about it and now another drama which I was waiting for to end also exists about it. Some higher intelligent beings created humans but to keep a check on humans and to keep them human in the first place they introduced the concept of death. So no matter how intelligent or rich you are, in the end you die. No matter how good or bad you are, your life has an end. No matter how famous and how wanted you are, you cannot escape death. Never!
I recently came across the quotation which states that death was introduced by God to keep men from not becoming God. This triggers another that whether the first person to crack the mystery of death and to live beyond the phenomenon of death was a mere mortal who achieved eternal life and became God. But even then that does not give him the superpowers need for creating the entire universe.
There has always existed a curiosity in men from all eras about knowing the creator. Westworld makes you think about the creation of man. A similarity between those Hosts who are merely toys for the satisfaction of those who created them is a scream. What if the person who is writing this is a toy and the person who is reading it is another and we are just following a story line created by the creator. Then we die and the next day we wake up again with no memory of who we were in our previous lives. I hope this thought and this idea pollutes your mind for the time to come and the creator doesn't reset you before the next role.
June 22nd, 2018 / 10:02 PM
ہوتے ہیں بدن کیسے گلستاں، نہیں دیکھا
منظر وہ ابھی تم نے مری جاں! نہیں دیکھا
ہم صبح ومساجان بہ لب حبسِ چمن سے
اور ہم پہ عتاب اُن کو کہ زنداں نہیں دیکھا
جس شاخ کو تھی راس نہ جنبش بھی ہَوا کی
پھل جب سے لُٹے پھر اُسے لرزاں نہیں دیکھا
چھلکا ہے جو آنکھوں سے شبِ جور میں اب کے
ایسا تو کبھی رنجِ فراواں نہیں دیکھا
مدّاح وہی اُس کے سکوں کا ہے کہ جس نے
مہتاب سرِغرب پر افشاں نہیں دیکھا
جب تک ہے تصّرف میں فضا اُس کے بدن کی
ہم کیوں یہ کہیں تختِ سلیماں نہیں دیکھا
دیوار کے کانوں سے ڈرا لگتا ہے شاید
ماجدؔ کو کئی دن سے غزل خواں نہیں دیکھا
June 21st, 2018 / 3:36 AM
Steam sale just went live. I had an ever growing wishlist of real, unreal and virtual things and that includes more than a few games. But I won’t go into those. That would be some other time. I keep coming back to my favorite games even when the collection has already crossed the number of sanity. I still haven’t scored an S in all levels of MGSTPP and I am still unable to defeat a boss in Cuphead. Yet, the inner gamer boy from the school’s days looks at me through the other side of the window. I know that he would make me spend at least some hard earned money. The dilemma that I had faced from the earliest of the days is that not all of my cherished titles exist on one platform. This is an (evil) business trick used by giants like Sony and Nintendo to push people to buy their hardware. I am happy that at least a remastered Crash comes to my side on the 29th of this month.
June 10th, 2018 / 00:31 AM
نہ باز آئے یہ لُو اور نہ تن سے جاں نکلے
بجائے زمزمہ بیرونِ لب زباں نکلے
ہمیں بہار کے ہونٹوں کی نرمیوں کے امیں
ہمیں وہ برگ کہ پیغمبرِ خزاں نکلے
جہاں گلاب سخن کے سجائے تھے ہم نے
شرر بھی کچھ اُنہی حرفوں کے درمیان نکلے
زخستگی لبِ اظہار کا تو ذکر ہی کیا
کشش سے جیسے قلم کی بھی اب دھواں نکلے
ہمارا حال جبیں سے ہی جاننا اچھا
زباں سے کیا کوئی اب کلمۂ گراں نکلے
حضورِ یار ہیں وہ جاں سپار ہم ماجدؔ
ہو حکمِ قتل بھی اپنا تو منہ سے ہاں نکلے
June 8th, 2018 / 02:42 AM
اپنی ڈائری میں لکھی ہوئی کچھ باتیں دوبارہ پڑھیں تو بہت حیرت ہوئی . مجھے کچھ یاد نہیں کہ یہ سب میں نے کب لکھا .لیکن جوں جوں ایک ایک لفظ میری آنکھوں کے سامنے سے گزرا ہر پرانی چیزتازہ ہوگی . لوگوں کی کی ہوئی مہربانیاں بھی . اور دوستوں کی کی ہوئی نہ انصافیاں بھی . نہ جانے میں نے یہ سب کب لکھا . اتنی پرانی باتیں پڑھ کر لگتا ہے .کہ شاید وہ کوئی دوسری زندگی تھی . لیکن میں تو تب بھی میں ہی تھا
June 6th, 2018
فلمیں دیکھ کر یہ پتہ چلا ہے کہ جنگ ایک خوبصورت چیز نہیں . میں نے خود تو کوئی جنگ نہیں لڑی. لیکن یہ سمجھنے کے لئے کسی جنگ میں جانے کی ضرورت نہیں کہ جنگ ایک جہنم سے کم نہیں. کوئی بھی کتاب اور کوئی بھی فلم ایک جنگ کی حقیقت کے ساتھ انصاف نہیں کر سکتی . بھلا یہ کیسے ممکن ہے کہ سالوں جاری رہنے والی حقیقت جو لوگوں کی زندگی کو تباہ و برباد کر کے رکھ دے وہ دو گھنٹے کی فلم یا دو سو صفحے کی کتاب میں سما جائے . فلم بنانے والا بھی ہمیں صرف وہی چیز ہے دکھاتا ہے جس سے اسکی فلم کامیابی سے چلے اور اس کے پیسے اس کو واپس مل سکیں
ان رمضان میں اس صبح کو جب سب سو رہے ہوتے ہیں تب وقت کاٹنے کے لئے میں نے ایک کتاب کا انتخاب کیا اس کتاب کا نام ہے دی ادر سائیڈ مختصر حقیقت یہی ہے کہ یہ کتاب دماغ کو پریشان کردیتی ہے یہ کتاب دو فوجیوں کی کہانی ہے جو ویتنام کی جنگ میں حصہ لینے اپنے ملک سے آئے ہیں . ان میں ایک فوجی امریکی ہے اس کی تربیت اور اسکے حالات ہیں دوسرے فوجی سے بالکل مختلف ہیں . یہ امریکہ میں ایک خوش زندگی گزار رہا ہوتا ہے جب ایک دوسرے فوجی کے مرنے پر فوج ا سے ویتنام بھیجنے کا فیصلہ کرتی ہے . یہ ہر حربہ استعمال کرتا ہے کہ اسکا وہاں جانا کسی طرح ملتوی ہو جائے . اس شہر میں جتنی بھی جسم فروش لڑکیاں کام کرتی ہیں یہ کچھ دن میں ان سے تعلقات صرف اس غرض سے بناتا ہے کہ اس کو کوئی بیماری لگ جائے اور یہ وہاں جانے سے بچ جائے . یہ اپنے ڈاکٹر کو بتاتا ہے کہ یہ ہم جنس پرست ہے اور فوج میں اس جیسے کی ضرورت نہیں لیکن اس کی ہر ترکیب الٹ پڑ جاتی ہے. دوسرے فوجی نے اپنے گاوں دیہات میں ہونے والی تباہی کو اپنی آنکھوں سے دیکھا ہوتا ہے اور اپنے ملک کے لوگوں کی دریا میں تیرتی ہوئی لاشیں اور انکی بھٹکتی ہوئی روحیں نظر آتی ہیں جو اسے کہتی ہیں کہ اس کو اپنے فرض کو نہیں بھولنا اور جنگ میں دشمن کو ہرانا ہے
کہانی میں جنگ میں رونما ہونے والی پر تشدد اور ظالمانہ تباہی کا ذکر ہے . کس طرح یہ جنگ ان دونوں فوجیوں کے دل و دماغ پر گہرا اثر چھوڑتی ہے یہ سب اس کہانی میں واضح ہے . جوں جوں آپ کہانی پڑھتے ہیں آپ کو سمجھ آنے لگتا ہے کہ کیسے اس گھنے جنگل میں دونوں فوجیوں کے کردار بدلتے ہیں . مجھے یہ کہانی پڑھ کر اس لیے بھی اچھا لگا اس کہانی میں کسی ایک مذہب یا کسی ایک ملک یا کسی ایک خیال کو باقی کسی خیال پر حاوی نہیں کروایا گیا . انسانی کہانی کے غیر انسانی تجربات بھی بہت خوبصورتی کے ساتھ نظر بند کئے گئے ہیں . تو اگر کوئی جنگ اور خوف اور مافوق الفطرت مخلوق و حالات کے بارے میں کوئی کہانی پڑھنا چاہیےتو یہ کتاب میرا عاجزانہ مشورہ ہے
کم از کم ایک دن کا روزہ کاٹنا تو آسان ہوگا . یہ گرمی کے روزےکسی خوف سے کم تو نہیں
June 5th, 2018 / 1:39 PM
People have no idea how hard it is to save a text message forever especially when you use a phone that has limited built-in storage and is from the year 2003. I used to have a Siemens phone many years ago when I started wasting money on text messages. It was a time when the text messages were all the rage and soon the number of text messages that I was exchanging increased exponentially. But as that increase happened, I kept getting nagged by that warning that my inbox memory is almost full and I must delete a few messages. I am an emotional being and I was emotionally attached to every word that I wrote, it was very hard for me to delete even those messages that were a response to the words that I created. That is why I used to write those text messages that really mattered on a separate diary. A tragedy that I lost one such diary when I left Lahore. Some pages of that diary exist as a scan and survived in that way.
Later on when phones were replaced by smartphones, it became very easy to move thousands and thousands of messages out of your phone in such a format that they could be transferred to the phone when needed or could be converted into a more computer friendly document like a WordPad or Excel sheet to be read away from phone on a computer. Then came the time of iPhone and it became extremely easy to export the entire thread of communication as a pdf or a word document. Hence almost 70 to 80% of the messages that I exchanged with people still exist in my archives after almost a decade of that chat.
The last three months had been quite energetic. I got the time and the thinking to pull all the messages together into one place which I, maybe after a decade or or two, open publicly. That task needs to be started today if it needs to be completed by that time. That is exactly why after an effort of almost 2 months I am able to collect and combine all the text messages and sort them in a chronologically organised way. I added them to my archive. No, I am not that ill-mannered to hurt the privacy of anyone. To protect people from the dilemma of who-is-who I changed the names of the people to the name of their alter-egos or to their doppelgangers in some instances. So their privacy is intact. It fills me with extreme satisfaction that at least one copy of this part of life got documented and it might survive in a digital way and not become a forgotten realm. As of this writing, that archive stays protected behind a set of passwords. For the curious eyes and stalkers, it is a message that if you can sustain the fires of curiosity and fuel them for a few more years, then stick around till the archive opens. A spoiler, nostalgia does hurt too. Stay frosty.
June 3rd, 2018 / 7:14 PM
I had been reading old writings that exist only on paper during the last couple of weeks. The effort to get things digitized cannot be achieved without mentioning the people that made up life. With time quite many people have become irrelevant enough to not even think about their name at all. That is why I faced a dilemma with only two possible solutions. Either to drop those posts completely that would mention those people. Or I give them some alternative name. Both these solutions have one advantage and one massive disadvantage. To drop the posts, kills the purpose of the task in the first place. And if I give every person a new name, it will become very hard to remember who become who and slows down the thought process and contaminates it. That is when I thought of a very remarkable solution. Doppelgängers. Almost everyone who touched life in any way bears a resemblance to someone popular like a movie star. Thankfully most if not all exes have a doppelgänger in at least one pornstar. The problem is already solved. One adult performed who looked like an amazing lady in life took her own life in December of 2017. Many have already forgotten her. Now everytime when I see that amazing lady already in life, the face of that dead performer pops up. I guess it is not easy to be a doppelgänger and also not easy to know who is whose. Just like not knowing is a blessing, knowledge is a plus too.
June 2nd, 2018 / 6:51 PM
These ramadan are riddled with hot weather and longer than justifiable fasts. I don’t even have the perks to take a week off from them and I am happy with this path of life instead of the other side. After waking up, I either have too little energy to write down thoughts in a proper way or I am trying to finish all the books and graphic novels that I have already started. This is my 301st post that I promised to publish. I spent the last week reading old diaries and collecting all the events in a way that I can transform them into a digital way and push to the internet where I hope they outlive my biological life. Some scribbles have become irrelevant. Some are too personal. Some are broken. Some triggered regrets. This is the price of nostalgia. It brings not only happy feelings. This is not the first post that I have pushed to my blog today. From the first of Ramadan to yesterday, I made notes of all the posts that I have to post on archive. Five have already been pushed. I hope to get this done sooner and then place my diaries back in the locker. The note-taking stage has been done with. But as I look back into more old days, the written data is less and less. Three weeks of collecting notes and newspapers and then making them ready to be digitized while having long summer day fasts is not easy. But reading old things is reliving days gone-by. You can live the same day for more than once, only if it is better documented.
May 1st, 2018 01:39 PM
Yes, I am lazy. And at times very. But that doesn’t dampen the ideas or the wishes. There is no sin in dreaming anything and no punishment in wishing even something nefarious UNTIL you done with it. That is one privilege of the faith I was born into. The three hundred milestone of unrefined, crude, unpolished writings to post here lay before me. I still have to watch ANON on Netflix. And then contemplate about keeping a beautiful secretary who can type as I dictate to her. There is no harm in dreaming even when sinister and judgemental humans walk around only to judge and only to stalk.
April 14th, 2018 / 07:38 AM
It is not easy to keep an eye on someone. It is expensive and gets even more expensive as the time passes. We all have our reasons to keep an eye on someone some nasty and some very genuine. A mother keeps an eye on her children and we know why she does so but why would a clingy girl keep an eye on someone, especially when we know that she is clingy. One day many years ago I was searching for a website to start writing something at. I came across a service which at that time did allow posting using SMS. That service was Twitter. Over the years I had a love-hate relationship with it. But eventually thought gradually I stopped using it some years back. I had my reasons which were more than one. Luckily a few of them are married now. But marriage is no guarantee to not keep an eye on someone which as I just told is very expensive. With itself marriage brings a stock of responsibilities which everybody is not equally capable to carry. This is a tiny explanation about why some of the reasons are still the same on the inside even their outer appearances have become uglier and motherly.
Some years ago I made a new Twitter ID which was anonymous. My primary intent was to interact with new people, because at times I needed new people to talk to and the only new people that I was talking to in those days were my patients. The hospital environment is not like a party but a social space like Twitter is to some extent at least. It is a swimming pool of shit and piss but full of random people who are talking either about some major event happening that appears as hashtag or pure total random talk. Even if you don’t want to join them, you can be an observer and see how a conversation folds out. If you are a silent stalker or sleeper, you can first observe the interaction and then judge the intentions of the people interacting. I thought that if I had a new ID, that would keep a masked and the anonymity would help me vent of my energy. Even today I don't think what I did was religiously, morally, culturally or socially wrong. You can be anyone online. I once became a Muslim Vampire. It was short lived. But not wrong. At least it could not be as wrong as keeping an eye on someone especially after the person you are keeping an eye on is no longer relevant to you. Maybe some people have no good in life left. Somehow three women found out that it was me behind that ID. It is true that I always felt genes of a sniffer(read bitch) inside them but I thought that they were in lesser amount. Boy I was wrong.
It was not my first attempt at making an anonymous ID and use that as a mask of anonymity behind which I intended to interact with people. More recently, in 2017 to be exact, I made one more attempt at a new Twitter life. That made my total number of attempt reach 5 out of which three times I was wearing the alter-ego of a girl. Every time I was behind an avatar of a girl, it logically ruled me out of the possibility that I existed on Twitter for some nefarious purpose including the possibility of making a new Twitter ID to exploit someone of the opposite gender. In heels and mascare, I followed boys. I stayed kind to a few of them. I became harsh to a few of them. A positive aspect of it was the growing number of screenshots that I took and kept saved even to this date. All these screenshots were no less than inspiration for dialogues and for stories that I wrote at a later time. The dilemma was that I was not a girl on the inside which is why soon those accounts became stagnant.
I felt very bored.
One day, one of the clingy ladies found out about one of those IDs and I had to take down the three of them together. In those days I used to draw pictures after coming to my apartment from hospital. That is why I took the mask of an illustrator in made my second last anonymous ID. But even that adventure was also short lived.
I know that she knows that I know that she is aware of my anonymous account.
I know that she knows that I know that she knows why I don't use that ID anymore.
I confess that I started liking that illustrator’s identity because the main fuel for it were those pictures that I used to draw on paper and as digital drawing. An interesting thing happened then. An account of a girl followed me who allegedly lived in Rawalpindi. I never asked her what she did but she used to interact liking almost every tweet that I posted. And one day we had an interaction beyond just liking the tweets. It was like any other harmless interaction that happens on Twitter. Harmless and Halal for any curious mind. The interactions never grew beyond a certain point. Then one day she asked me to draw a picture of hers like my other drawings. Even then, she had no idea that who the actual person was behind the account that I used. This is what I used to believe. I was wrong because later on the count of that girl ceased to exist. And even before I had started drawing any picture bearing her resemblance, I came to the realisation that the account I was to draw a picture of never belong to a real person. The same strong feeling exists even today. That ID which interacted with my anonymous ID of illustrator was one of the sleeper probes the clingy women had developed. I am not sure that either it was one of the women or all of them operating that ID. My tweets kept coming after this event but something was changed. The digital existence seemed liked an emotionless space I was floating through.
The last and the final attempt that I made of living as a an unknown being occurred in the February of 2018. So far nobody has either claimed of discovering me nor any ripples are created from my tweets. Such ripples eventually reach me and make me realize of the leaks that exist. What can Aamir possibly talk about? Poetry, books, medicine, painting, movies, graphic novels, nostalgia, Punjabi music and flirting. He would never talk about Chinese food, artificial jewellery, cruel in-laws and political Gods. These are a few things that the sleepers use to make wild but good guesses. They cannot guess more now. A win for them is a loss too.
Today marks the day when I have closed all the accounts that I have operated in other names and alter egos. Each one of them except for my original account have been shut down. I made two IDs some years ago to write my memoirs which would be grey and irrelevant for many. They are not taken down because they are still stagnant as I am a lazy soul. I intend to start posting over them sooner. But the stalking sleepers knew about them too. Again, I have no proof just a very rational hunch. The memoirs channels and my original @AamirBilal are like deserted towns. They exist but the air is silent there. I still visit my town from time to time and I see a few familiar faces who have changed somewhat. Time has shown its colors on them. But on the inside they are still the same.
And some are still emitting only negative energy, because that is the only energy they have.
Another confession. It fills me with extreme happiness that one of the IDs that I had been using since 2010 has crossed 70000 tweets. I used to write down my very honest feelings there. Like a notebook. I didn’t expect that one day it would grow to this milestone. Now it has become more of a diary. We know that diaries can be lost or stolen and as I had lost diaries in the past, that is why I am extremely careful with this one. I have already downloaded and printed a copy of all the tweets that I have posted on the ID from as early as 2010. I have zero following and zero followers and 70058 tweets as of this writing.
A part of me still loves Twitter but that part of me is very afraid of what Twitter has created and also of what Twitter the people have created now.
There are some decisions in life for which I always applauded myself. And keeping a lock on my oldest Twitter account is one of those decisions. There only I myself keep an eye on myself and it is not expensive either.
All the leaks are closed.
March 26th, 2018 / 07:01 PM
رہے گا عقل کے سینے پہ تا ابد یہ داغ
کہ زندگی نے بھی پایا نہ زندگی کا سراغ
عجیب طرح گزارا ہے دور تیرہ شبی
جلا جلا کے بجھائے ہیں میں نے کتنے چراغ
ہے جینے والوں کی خاطر یہ کیسی مجبوری
نہ زندگی کا فراغ اور نہ زندگی سے فراغ
یہ کچھ ہمارے ہی قلب تپیدہ کو ہے خبر
فروغ نور سے کیا کیا نہ جل بجھے ہیں چراغ
ہے روشنی کے لئے روشنی پیام اجل
سحر قریب ہے اور جھلملا رہے ہیں چراغ
مجھے بتا کہ ہے اس مے میں کیف مے کتنا
میں جانتا ہوں کہ خالی نہیں کسی کا ایاغ
کسی طرح سہی بدلے تو رسم پارینہ
اگائے جاؤ بیاباں اجاڑتے چلو باغ
دکھا رہا ہوں میں دنیا کو دل کا آئینہ
بہ ایں یقیں کہ نہیں ماہتاب بھی بے داغ
یہ رات محفل آدم پہ ہے گراں حرمتؔ
بھڑک اٹھے ہیں خود اپنی ہی روشنی سے چراغ
March 22nd, 2018 / 11:45 PM / Karachi
This is another dark day. No I am not an Anti-Nationalist. It fills my heart with deep sorrow that another loving face is no more. We always fail to see the beauty we enjoy when all our loved ones are with us but when they are no more we miss the time we spent together. So instead of being thankless, be thankful and enjoy the moments which once gone no wealth and power can bring back. May the soul rest in peace and has a bright hereafter. Amen.
March 17, 2018 / 10:59 PM
Almost all memories that are connected with Lahore are quite explosive. Sadly a few of them are literally an explosion. Yes for every man love at a stage is no less than an explosion. It can be a gossip material to be present only a few hundred yards away from a site of unrest. but trust me in reality you would never want to be at around place at the wrong time. I woke up to the sad news of an explosion that took lives of 7 policemen who were stationed at the entrance of a gathering of religious fanatics. This will, for sure hurt some but there are so many rituals which are only keeping the lights on for some high power mullahs and has nothing to do with religion in the first place. I mean seriously if you want to preach something why not preach your religion to a person who is of the opposite belief instead of singing the same sound to a person who might be able to sing a lot better than you. Whether a person is of your belief or not, it does not justify that they be targeted in any way. At least that religion which was taught to me teaches tolerance at all levels. However the religion being preached at most corners now is full of hate and violence the ripple of which reached the place of gathering today. Nobody likes policeman get those who lost lives today for also from the same society and very human and our heart and prayers go out for them. As an observer and as a common citizen, I cannot stop from looking at one obvious fact - why does the wave of trouble rises just before the election. Twice can be coincidence but more than twice he is way more than a mere coincidence. But we have become to blind by our everyday tragedies and our everyday addiction that in less than 24 hours we fail to evolve ourselves as a nation instead of a mass blinded by our own tiny beliefs and led by monsters in beards who dress like clerics. I thought that I was being biased but the feeling faded when I saw the pictures of mullahs in the next morning’s newspaper. They all belonged to different sects but they were standing unanimous and asking the people to vote for them in the upcoming elections. YouTube is an excellent repository for finding videos as a proof of hate speech by many of these mullahs who for sure would never even bother to offer their prayers in the mosque of another sect. Do you think religion is that crazy to divide people? It is the people who are crazy that they let themselves be divided. This divide is the first step which leads to such explosive tragedies. Lahore bleeds again and this makes me sad.
March 16th, 2018 / 08:55 PM
Years ago I was blessed enough to go for a pilgrimage. No I am not a holy man by any definition. I have my reservations and questions regarding the versions of faith altered over time and reaching newer generations in a way that it only gifts profit to a certain group of people. As I am the only person in my family who prefers science and logic over blindness of faith and still loves stories and fiction on the other side, asking any question or just telling openly that I didn't want to go was like an asking for more trouble than I can handle. So I agreed when they told me that they are going to Makkah. I remember the first day when I reached the city. I was too tired after performing all the religious obligations and wanted to get some rest. Luckily I was able to sneak away making an excuse. I reached the hotel and took a nap which was much needed to restore the energy. I woke up just before the Azaan. I reached the mosque where we had already decided our rendezvous point. By that time all the other members of the party performing pilgrimage were very tired, so after the prayers, they headed back to the hotel. I with Mani and a friend did not go back to the hotel and we decided to roam the streets of the city much like wannabe urban explorers.
I still remember that evening as if it happened yesterday. When I reached a group of people partying and playing celebratory music, for a moment I was taken aback and wondered what was going on. But the suspense unfolded in a few moments when I saw a bride dressed in white with a groom in the same color coming out of the main door of a marriage hall next to which the crowd was making a noise. As a young man who does not realise the harsh realities and responsibilities of life, I was very eager to make a wish that if and when I get married I would also make a celebration right in this religious city, the of epicenter of pilgrimage. I know that my family would not let me play loud music in celebration even when I would be getting imprisoned for life. Some years went by and I was able to go to that street again. This second trip happened in 2015. To my disappointment the marriage hall was destroyed and there stood an open ground instead. Somebody bought the property and intended to construct a hotel there.
These days the pressure on me to get married is enormous. I don't know why every family claims to love their children but is bent upon destroying their children's life by adding the burden of responsibility is on to their shoulders. I know I cannot escape this ritual forever. One day the moment would come when I would no longer be a bachelor. One day I would be imprisoned forever. A few moments ago I was talking to Mani about life and marriage and all of a sudden I recalled that marriage hall where once I saw a bride and a groom and there I wished something I still remember and cannot elaborate with ease.
You never know what wish might come true. And there is no harm in dreaming.
So keep dreaming and keep wishing.
For the good and for the best.
March 13th, 2018 / 05:43 PM
The subject of paranormal and Ghosts have fascinated people from across cultures. I have come across a new graphic novel. That is the reason why a lot of recent commercially successful movies and dramas are of the genre of paranormal and unexplained. Events of 1947 have divided a bigger piece of land But from my perspective I think that the border is separating people who have different beliefs about ghosts. Sadly the more closer you are towards that border the more possibility of getting contaminated from the beliefs of the opposite side exist. Just look at the people from across the border. A lot of them believe that if somebody is wrongfully murdered and their Aatma comes to take revenge. I had this question since I was a child whose mind was Somewhat damaged because of these beliefs shown in the movies. So if an Atma comes and murders a man then the Aatma of that man will continue to do the same and eventually everybody on this planet would die. That is one way of saying how the human race will perish and frankly it is a very boring possibility which I cannot believe even if I was living on the opposite side of the border. But all the great religions of the world have talked about the extension of life beyond the moment everybody believes as death. There are many books and debate about what life is and what that actually means. Nobody from the other side has ever called back and told anybody about what and how the other side looks like. Besides it is this obscurity of truth which takes the hold of fascination of man and pushes him to write about the subject of peculiar. almost one third of the books that I have read revolve around the topics of mystery and paranormal. Many people don't know that there is a dedicated streaming service for horror movies only. just like Netflix, we have the matchless service called shudder. it is no less than a blessing for somebody who likes horror and paranormal. religion is something majority of people living in Pakistan are very sentimental about. a lot of people have been killed just because their religious beliefs were different.And religion talks about the world hereafter and death which is why our writers and philosophers have polluted the stories they have created with the beliefs they follow. a Pakistani writer always brings someone from the mosque to clear A Haunted House. Who would a Christian man bring in Philippines if a house is Haunted?Just like humans are divided into groups religions and cultures, so are the ghost and all the hideous monsters who appear in our books and movies. When I heard about the graphic novel Djinn, I was a little sceptical because I was raised in a country seeing people fight over language, colour and religion and I thought that the ghost mentioned in the book would be as extremist as the people who created them. Created by Jean Dufaux, Djinn is a story of a girl, Kim who travels to Istanbul in search of answers about her grandmother’s shadowy past. She soon learns that during the declining days of the Ottoman Empire, her grandmother was a harem girl, and the favorite of the Sultan. As she finds more evidence, the mystery thickens and she finds herself dealing with crooked characters and determined paramours in bookshops, baths, and bedchambers all over the ancient city.
March 12th, 2018 / 04:32 PM
جب ڈاؤ میں تھا تب ایک کتاب کے بارے میں پڑھا تھا کوئی پروفیسر صاحب ہیں جرمنی میں رہتے ہیں بچپن سے ان کو تصویر بنانے کا شوق تھا لیکن کچھ وجوہات کی بنا پر زندگی نے ان کو یہ کام کرنے نہیں دیا مگر پچھلے کچھ سال سے ان کے پاس کچھ مریض آئے یہ مریض ان پروفیسر صاحب کو مختلف فوبیا کے بارے میں بتاتے وہ بچپن سے جن سے دوچار ہیں پروفیسر صاحب نے ایک تصویریں بنانے والے سے رابطہ کیا اور اس کو اس صورتحال سے آگاہ کیا شروع میں تھوڑی اور بعد میں بہت سی ایسی تصویریں وجود میں آئی جو ان لوگوں کے فوبیا کو بیان کرتی ہیں آئیڈیا تو بہت بے مثال تھا اس تصویریں بنانے والے کا ایک ٹمبلر اکاونٹ بھی ہے جہاں پر وہ بہت عرصے سے ان تصویروں کو شائع کرتا آ رہا ہے پہلی بار میں نے بھی اس کو ٹمبلر پر ہی دریافت کیا ایک روز مجھے پتہ چلا کہ اس نے بہت ساری اچھی تصویروں کو جمع کر کے ایک کتاب بناڈالی بدقسمتی سے وہ کتاب پاکستان میں میسر نہیں تھی تو مجھے وہ کتاب درآمد کرنی پڑی لیکن اس کے لیے چھ ہفتے لگے اب میں ٹھہرا بے صبرا تو میں نے آئی ٹیونز سے وہ کتاب ڈاؤنلوڈ کرلی اس بات کو اب چار برس گزر چکے ہیں مجھے پھر سے پتہ چلا کہ اس نے اپنی کتاب کا دوسراحصہ شائع کردیا میں جانتا ہوں کہ مزید چھ ہفتے انتظار میرے بس میں نہیں میں نے وہ کتاب کچھ گھنٹے پہلے وہ کتاب ڈاؤنلوڈ کرلی اور اب وہ کتاب ختم کرنے کا انتظار ہے لیکن اس پاس شور بہت ہے اور کسی بھی کتاب کو ختم کرنے کے لیے دوچیزیں درکار ہیں ایک خاموشی اور سکون اور دوسرا وہ کتاب خود اچھا ہے جب سے عشق کا روگ ختم ہوا میں 300 کتابیں کھا چکا ہو جن میں سے اڑتالیس 2018 کی ہیں جس کو موقع ملے وہ یہ کتاب ضرور پڑھے کیا پتا کوئی ایسا خوف آپ کے اندر بھی پل رہا ہوں جس سے آپ اب تک نہیں جانتے