Saturday, 22 December 2012

Aap kay chacha jaan nay aap ki saalgirah pur aapko aik ghardee tuhfay main dee. Khat likh kar un ka shukriya adaa karain.

I miss O'level urdu classes. And I miss eleventh grade.

Dawood Public School, Karachi.

10- February-2011.

Muhtaram Chacha jaan, Asalam Alaikum.

Umeed hai aap aur aapkay ghar walay yaani meray rishaty daar khairiay say hongay. Aap meri saalgirah per aye mujhay bohat khushi hui. Aapka tohfa bhee bohat pasand aya.
Pehlay tou mainay socha nahen kholun kyun kay uska dabba bohat khubsuurat tha, laikin phir socha khol lun, aur jab mainay khola tou usmain say aik ghardi niklee. Mainay phir usay band kar kay rakh diya. Aap kay tohfay ka bohat bohat bohat bohat bohat shukriya.
Iss saalgirah par meray paas 86 ghardiyan jamaa hogayen hain. Laikin mai sirf aapki waali pehen kay phirtee hun. Kyunkay woh mujhay bohat achee lagti hai.
Aap mujhay meri aanay waali saalgirah par bhee ghardi hee dejiye ga. Aur mai woh bhee pehen kar phiruungi.

faqat, aapki bhateeji.

Zubairi the Berry. 

Title? What title?

It was last month when I had to go to the bank to get a draft made to LUMS. No, I'm not going to LUMS as a student, I'm going as a participant. It was little before the bank lady fired at me with the question I often ask myself along with everyone else, "So, what do you want to be studying after college?" And then I killed her in my head. Because I don't know what I want to study or what I want to be or where I want to go. I don't know if it's supposed to be easy, or is it always this hard for everyone. Because if it isn't, hating everyone is completely justified.

So far, I've wanted to be a surgeon, because I've watched Grey's Anatomy for long enough to learn a few fancy terms and a few diagnosis of a few diseases. And because surgery looks amazing on the screen. Then I wanted to be an FBI behaviour analyst, because Criminal Minds is honestly the best show ever. Not even going to bring Dexter here because serial killers don't get paid. Then I wanted to be a lawyer, because Suits inspired me, but I hate talking, but I like thrashing people and badassery.

Or I could be a writer, and I could write shows about twisted people who have no direction in life, because all they do is watch TV shows and listen to music, and they're too busy hating people.

Or I could doodle for eternity.

1. Afros are the easiest to draw.
2. Ears are the hardest to draw.
3. I can draw better on paper.
4. I bothered making eyebrows, but the afro ate 'em.

New Year's Resolution #3: Write more.

I've been so far away from writing lately, I've forgotten how this is done. How to start off and what to write. But I have my excuse, I was busy studying for me exams, even though I wasn't. But it doesn't matter.

On the bright side, I have an awesome background. This way, I will always be prepared for a zombie apocolypse. 

Saturday, 1 December 2012

New Year's Resolution #2: Never Write Poetry.

I gave a shot at poetry. This is what I came up with. The title is more like a caution note. This resolution is for the greater good, so you will want to thank me.

Poetic Injustice

Roses are red,
violets are blue,
you probably think I'm random,
well, I do too.
I was supposed to be looking for a background for this blog, 
but I changed my mind, 
Interest in poetry, I am trying to find.
 It is hard to find a conclusion,
I am writing in pure confusion.
I thought rhyming was hard, turns out it isn't,
I'm going to rhyme this one with blood transfusion.

New Year's Resolution #1: Harvard.

Hi there, reader.
Sometimes I don't even know who you are because I don't think anyone reads this, but here goes.

If I could deactivate Facebook, I would, but I can't. Because Facebook is oh-so important now. Since the idea of deactivating is still in process, I stumbled upon this when I logged in today, for almost the 14th time or so, and took inspiration. That's the weird thing about inspiration, it hits you. Just like that.

Since it's almost December, this is my first new year's resolution:

Learn to play the guitar. Practice singing (in the bathroom). Perform at a few gigs. Get a Coke Studio session, somehow. Write meaningless songs about lost love. Write more meaningless songs about drowning, flying, sinking, eating, sleeping, etc. And then finally go to Harvard as a performer (because my grades most certainly won't let me.)

Harvard, I'm coming for you. One way, or the other. Definitely the other.