On and off

I have my exams starting from tomorrow and I’m surfing internet and commenting on blogs and writing a post of my own… But I’m really looking forward to going back to Lahore for Eid after my exams are over Insha-Allah. Muneeba has been counting days for me to reach Lahore and she reminds me every day about the number of remaining days .

I don’t know why am I not feeling any tensed for the paper tomorrow . It’s an open book exam which actually makes the exam even more difficult. You don’t study because its open book, but the questions OBVIOUSLY are not from the book. Besides its a marketing exam so I’m not really sure if studying or otherwise will make any difference . Anyways, I need your prayers for my exams, and I guess I’d be off from the addictive world of blogging for about 10 days and be back from Lahore Insha-Allah, unless there is another paper for which I don’t feel like studying…

Are we afraid of our own selves?

I have always believed that media plays a vital role in changing our beliefs and making us accept things that we wouldn’t have accepted on our own. We start making our minds and believing at what is portrayed to us, and we don’t try to find out what the reality actually is. I say this because recently I observed a very strong influence of media on a person from general public (That’s obviously my personal opinion).

I have been travelling a lot on public transport and this incident also has to do with one of my trips on a public bus. It was around 10 in the morning, and the bus was only half full. A child, maybe a maximum of 10 years of age came to me and asked me if he could make a call (He probably saw my mobile in my shirt pocket). I didn’t have credit so I told him it wont be possible to make a call. He asked the person sitting next to me, and he also refused.

The child turned back and started going towards his seat when the person sitting next to me asked him where he was heading to, to which he replied that he was going to his Madrasah. The child was wearing Qurta Shalwar, and was wearing a white cap with no hair on his head. I’m not sure what triggered the next couple of questions from this person sitting next to me, but maybe it was the Madrasah and the appearance of this child that made him a bit cautious. He asked the child what was there in his bag. I hadn’t even noticed the child’s bag before this person asked this question. It was a big bag, larger than a school bag, but it was shaped like a school bag. It was more of a back pack. The way the bag was placed on the seat made it look very heavy (I don’t know if it really was heavy or not). The boy replied he had stuff related to Madrasah in his bag.

This person then turned to me and asked why would a Madrasah require a child of this age to bring in such a heavy bag? I didn’t answer him, but the child probably heard this man, opened his bag and drew out a few of his clothes from the bag and put them back in, and without saying anything, sat on his seat. This person was definitely trying to make sure this child wasn’t carrying anything that he should not be carrying. The interrogative style of this person made me a bit uncomfortable. I don’t know if his behavior was justified or not, but have we become afraid of our own children? Is this really being careful when you ask a child who is maximum 10 years old, questions such as what do you have in your bag? Is this “war on terror” making us afraid of our own selves? That child is from amongst us, but then why is he targeted at and asked questions that I am not asked? Is it because he was going to a Madrasah? Is it because of his appearance?

I discussed this with a friend and his point of view was that the person was very right in critically asking questions from that child, because what we are going through requires us to be careful. But I ask, are we really going through what we are made to believe we are going through? I really don’t know and I leave it to you to decide if the way that person reacted was correct or not?

25 Random points about me

Finally, here is the post that Huda tagged me for. I’m extremely sorry for delaying it this much. And I had reasons as well. First of all, I was busy. And this is no lame excuse I tell you . Secondly, whatever I have been writing about recently, didn’t require any thinking at all, I mean it was just about my observation or feelings, and I just translated them into words. But this post really required some thinking. And third, I’m not good at listing things …

Ohh well, these three points above could very well have been random points about me . And I say this because I don’t know where to start writing about myself. But anyways, here are the 25 random things about me.

1. I like winters. I like the start of them, when it starts to get foggy and all dewy early in the morning.
2. I love sight seeing. One of my dreams is to visit the northern areas of Pakistan, all of them. Although I have been to many places already but I’d love to go there again and stay there for a long time.
3. I think I’m a bit adventurous. I want to go bungee jump and scuba dive and do all those weird things that parents usually ask their children to stay away from…
4. I can’t live without food. Well, obviously no one can live without food, but my case is a bit different. I eat A LOT. I live to eat.
5. I like reading but not too much. I mean, if I see a good title, or one that appeals me and sounds interesting or a must read, I’d want to buy it but I can never be sure if I’d really read it or not. But I do try my best to find some time out of my schedule to read.
6. I like collecting books. All types of them, and in all forms. I once had a huge, HUGE collection of E-books related to software engineering. I still have some novels that I bought thinking that I’d read them, but I haven’t still read them . I want to have a library of my own. A small one, but having great titles.
7. I like writing. This is something I really like doing. But haven’t been getting time recently to write much.
8. I like reading poetry. In fact, I love reading poetry. I had such a huge collection of poetry at the time I resigned from work but I lost it (that was one bad experience ). I still have a good collection but its not as good as the one I had. Or probably I had associations with that poetry collection.
9. I like listening to slow songs and ghazals. Old classical Indian songs are my favorites.
10. I like singing as well. I once tried to perform in front of a small gathering, for auditions for an event, but I failed badly . But I still like singing.
11. I don’t have too many friends. Or I should rather say, I don’t have too many close friends, but the ones I have are just too special. I love them, and I can’t even think about losing them.
12. I love rasmalayi. I so love it. I love all sweet dishes like Shahi tukray, Kheer, Halwa, Falooda but rasmalayi is so special.
13. I love rice. I can even eat rice thrice a day, seven days a week.
14. I like doing sports. My favorite sports are Table Tennis, volleyball (that’s probably because of my height), badminton, and cricket.
15. I don’t know swimming. And that’s something I have always wanted to learn. Most of my cousins know it, my brother, my dad, my uncles, everyone knows it, but I don’t . I don’t even know how my brother learnt it but he did and I still don’t know how to swim. But I’ll learn swimming, this is something I really want to do…
16. I have recently been very confused with what I want to do with my life. I think I want to study and get a PhD. Or maybe not. Or maybe not now but a little later. Or maybe I’d just let this idea go. Not sure really.
17. I am really trying very hard to control my anger. This is something I don’t have control over, and something that really puts me in bad situations at times.
18. I love kids. I love their observations and how they learn. I love the way they know how to play with things one could never imagine playing with. I just love kids.
19. And amazingly enough, kids somehow love me too. Or at least I think they love me .
20. I have a weak memory. And an even weaker short term memory . Not that I forget things every 15 minutes, but still, it isn’t too good. And people close to me know this very well .
21. I think I’m a bit sensitive as well. I can easily get hurt. Maybe that’s because I easily trust people. I believe in people and in what they say.
22. Ohh and that makes it another point about me, I trust people very easily .
23. I forgive people easily as well. I don’t know why, but I do. Maybe this is in attempt to get rid of my anger that I do it, but I do.
24. I want to do something big in life. I want to be remembered. Maybe through my writings (maybe one day I’ll write something worth remembering ), or maybe through my nature, or I don’t know through what, but I want to be remembered.
25. I want to learn different languages. Don’t want to be perfect at each language, but just want to be able to understand the basics… Currently I’m TRYING to learn sindhi .

Well, this didn’t take much time. Actually it did take time, as I had to go and take a class after I had only written the first 15 points. But at least, this didn’t require much thinking . Almost everyone I know is tagged. So it can’t be 25 tags but I’ll tag the following.

Electrifying Pakistan

Think Success

Writing For life

Floating Thoughts

Shifting Paradigms

Thank you Huda for tagging me for this post.

Psychological Hideouts

Since our childhood, we’ve needed someone to share our feelings with, to share our secrets with, to gossip with, to talk to, to just do anything we feel comfortable about doing and can’t do alone. For some people, that special person is their mother, for some it is their father, and for some it is their siblings. They would just come and share everything with their special person.

For children who just started going to school, they would come back home and say everything they faced to their special person, which mostly happens to be their mother, as she’s someone easily found at home. They would tell about what other students had for lunch, who they sat with in class today, what they studied in class etc. These are things these children really want out of them as soon as possible. They want someone to listen to them. They want someone to give them time. They want to be paid attention to. And this special person is the one who pays attention to them.

These children then grow older and make friends. Friends who not only sit together in class, but someone who they want to meet every day. Friends to enjoy their time with. To share things, the scope of which now has increased with time. The scope of their discussions now includes trusting each other with things only a few people know. They share their observations, their knowledge, and along with it, their secrets that they don’t want to stay only with themselves, but to be known by a few others as well. This is where the special person comes in for these grown ups. They find their psychological hideout in their special person.

A time comes when people share things with their parents as well as their friends. Their special person is not limited to one person, but a few of them. This is when the shift in special person is about to happen. You start sharing things more with your friends than with your parents. Its not that you don’t trust your parents anymore, but you naturally want to spend more time with your friends and want to share things with them. This I guess is natural. You spend more time away from home when you enter university, and the only time you spend at home is when you come for dinner and sleep.

But then, you experience things that you really want to share with people, but you don’t know who to share those things with. You have perfect and trust worthy friends who have been there for you whenever you have needed them to help you. You also have your parents who wait for you everyday to return from your university/work and they would most happily listen to what you have to say, but still you try finding someone else to share your feelings with. You have everyone to talk to, but still you feel as if you don’t have anyone to share things with. Your friends instantly feel that you’re not ok, and that there is something disturbing you, but you insist on being ok. Your parents try probing you about what’s wrong but you insist on everything being perfectly alright. What do you do in such a situation? Where do you find your psychological hideout in this case? Does it really happen at some point in time in your life?

Ethics and Business

A lot many times when deciding about something, we only consider aspects that favor us, and overlook many things deliberately. Or maybe not deliberately, but the we tend to think only in one direction, one that we want to happen, one that we have already made up our mind about. Sometimes we do realize other aspects to things as well but somehow we try and justify the reason we have for what we think.

Recently I have been involved in doing a research about opening up a breakfast house where one of the potential target market is those students who bunk their classes and look for places where friends could sit and have something to eat and pass time. I mean we have been thinking about ways to market this breakfast house to these students. This is to say that we have been thinking about how to promote bunking classes . And because this is a big market, specially for a breakfast house, there are all justifications in this world to market our product to these students. Is it an issue relating ethics?

Even if we dont discuss marketing this place to the college and university students, places like these definitely attract the young generation itself. The word spreads quickly, and even without us marketing the breakfast house, it probably would be known at least in the surroundings. A place like a breakfast house is definitely a good idea but is it ethical if any such place attracts people to skip their classes and come to these places? Is there any solution to this problem (if it really is a problem)?

Overconfidence about being confident

How do you define confidence? And then, where do you draw the line between confidence and over confidence? Can a person feel over confident about ones own self. Can I misunderstand my own self? Can I be confident about something that actually makes me over confident about it? Defining confidence and overconfidence in general might be easy, but I find it extremely difficult to define it for ones own self…

Our lives are always busy. Almost always we have each minute of our time scheduled. We make plans, although bearing in mind that these plans are subject to change. Sometimes we change our plans ourselves, and sometimes the plans get changed because of things that are out of our control. One of the reasons we change our plans is when we take on new challenges, new assignments, new tasks that we THINK we can easily do, keeping in view our existing responsibilities. This is where confidence (or overconfidence?) comes in. Our thinking that we can do it, decides if we’re being confident or overconfident.

If I talk about myself, I do not plan long term. Although I do have plans for both short and long term but there is always room for improvement, and I guess I have a bit more room for changes than others probably have. . I don’t know if this is good or bad, but I tend to accept challenges as they come, rather than making up my mind well before about what things I’d work on and what things I won’t work on. And I have experienced, that however much burden and workload I take on myself, somehow or the other, the work gets done Alhamdulillah. This is to say that whenever I get an opportunity to take up a challenge or a new and exciting task, I try taking it up, without thinking if I’d even be able to do it or not. I don’t know if this is confidence or overconfidence. All I know is that I’d put in efforts to the best of my capabilities.

Most of the times, and this has especially been the case in my student life, I take up on several optional voluntary tasks, some of them requiring lots and lots of time, and end up running late on the compulsory tasks. This obviously results in waking up and working at nights and at times finding workarounds to the issues, not solving problems from their core. But as I said, everything gets done somehow. But should we actually be going for getting things done SOMEHOW, and at times compromising on the quality of work? Or should we try taking up less tasks and not push ourselves to the limits, and focus on and make the tasks result in perfection? Is it overconfidence to be confident about being able to do something?

Impatience

Since the start of this semester, I have had to travel through the public transport extensively. Four out of the six weekdays, I have a class at the other Campus of IBA for which I have to commute through the public buses. And then obviously I have to come back through the same mode of transport as well. This makes it eight trips a week, and at least six of these eight trips, I witness Impatience…

Our lives have become so busy and occupied that the tiniest of interruptions become so unbearable for us that we start using abusive words and even start folding our sleeves. Everyone seems so engaged with himself that he doesn’t even see if the other person that he’s talking to is an elderly person or a disabled person. Everyone is so confident to be right in whatever he is doing. Everyone is so assertive and convinced about his behavior and attitude that a small correction from someone pinches him hard. And above all, the social classes come in to action right when they shouldn’t. Money starts speaking right where it shouldn’t. Or is it me perceiving things this way?

I’d like to specifically point out to some of the incidents I witnessed myself. A student, seemed to be in his early twenties, climbed the bus and sat next to a very elderly person. While he was sitting, he mistakenly hit his elbow to the elderly who got irritated and asked him to be careful. The aged uncle definitely did not like it, although it wasn’t the fault of this young boy. But this young man, instead of apologizing because of being younger (that’s what I think he should have done), very rudely asked the elderly to mind his own business. The elderly complained of being hit by the elbow of this young man, and this student shouted back claiming to be innocent and asked the elderly to keep quiet, and started talking to himself (definitely negative about the aged uncle). Although he wasn’t at fault initially, but I’d say, he was not only at fault when he misbehaved later, but displayed ill manners and disrespect to the elderly.

Similarly, another student got himself scuffling with the conductor over student discount rates. The student probably didn’t show up the student card and when the conductor asked for the full conveyance charges, the student started using abusive words, something that have become an every day usage. To me it always seems that people are in search of a moment where they can get rid of their anger and throw it out on someone. Neither did the student that I just mentioned, nor did the conductor stop using abusive words, each of them feeling proud of hearing their families get ridiculed in public (sorry to have used these terms but that’s exactly what was happening out there ). Almost always there has to be a third party involvement to stop the fight. People seem so ready to fight with their hands if need be, although they are always equipped with all sorts of fighting words as well to give them a good start at the opponent .

Buses usually stop at some main stops for more than 5 minutes to get some passengers and to fill up the vacant seats before they start again on their journey. This definitely irritates the passengers who’ve been sitting in for long. There is a whole collection of abusive words you get to hear if the bus keeps on standing at a stop for more than three or four minutes. This is almost an every day routine, and everyone knows that their efforts (if this really is an effort) wont bring any success, but still, probably just to satisfy the inner-selves and to have a feeling that they got themselves lighter by abusing someone (the bus driver this time), people do it. People bang in at the door and at the windows, hoping for the bus to start moving somehow.

More often than not, money gets to speak as well, and at times loudly too. You get to hear the statement “Do you even know who I am?”, or “Do you know who you’re talking to?” very often. These are attempts, although to no avail (almost always) to put the opponent on back foot, but doesn’t it really show where you’re coming from? Doesn’t it show your “real” background. And above all, saying this to a person who everyone knows is a bus conductor, who earns his bread working all day in this heat running from the ladies compartment to the gents compartment and vice versa, collecting travel fare tickets, doesn’t this statement just say everything about “who you are” and “who we’re talking to”.

What really has become of us? Why have we become so impatient. Or have we?

Kids are kids

I went to my relatives place this Sunday and was forced to play a game with the son of my cousin. His name is Hisan and he is just above six years old. Hisan forced me to sit with him and play this game, the name of which I have forgotten. Both of us had 5 lives initially, and had weapons before start of game. The weapons included a Star, A shield, Fire, and some Mini bombs. He was kind enough to give me the first turn.

I didn’t really know what to do, so I chose the shield. I was trying to be safe (I thought a shield was safe enough). But Hisan chose a shield as well, and we both died. Well, somehow, a shield for a shield kills both warriors . So I lost one life and Hisan lost one life. I then thought to ask Hisan to choose the weapon. I was trying to be smart again . Hisan chose the shield this time again and I chose the star. I died again, and Hisan survived. Well, only Hisan got to explain the logic and decide who wins. His logic was that the light of my star fell on his shield and reflected back and hit me and killed me. I was 2 down…

I dont exactly remember but I think I chose the shield again. I was trying to be defensive. Hisan chose fire this time, and as was expected, I lost again. Well, my shield melt this time because it was made of plastic. His fire destroyed my shield. This smart kid learnt a lesson from the first time he lost his life, that whatever happens, just force the opponent die . I was 3 down now. Next he had his turn to choose the weapon and he chose the mini bombs. Before this, I didn’t even understand what this weapon was. The way he was pronouncing it only made the mini thing audible but the bomb part wasn’t. I chose Fire. I thought I should be aggressive as well. But obviously, I died again. Reason, Hisan had LOTS of mini bombs, and my fire only had limited life. Think of being a genius…

Some similar combination of weapons made me loose my 5th life as well. I don’t exactly remember the choice we both made this time, but his logic was accurate as always and he defeated me with reason. So he only lost 1 life, that too when he couldn’t probably come up with a good enough reason to only make me die, and I lost all of my 5 lives. But…

I won the game! I lost more lives so I won. My score was 5, and Hisan’s score was 1 . And believe me, he didn’t have any answer to this logic . He kept on explaining to me that the one who loses more lives cannot win, but he kept on agreeing that 5 is more than 1, so he finally agreed to allow me to lift the trophy .

He left us all alone

My grandfather died. He left us all alone. I never thought this would be the first thing I’d write about after my exams. I couldn’t even see him for the last time . The last time I saw him was when I had to leave for Karachi for the start of my semester. He was at the hospital waiting for his hip bone operation to start. I never imagined those would be the last visuals of him that I’d get.

He was over 90 Masha-Allah, but offered all prayers at mosque, or at least preferred offering all prayers at mosque, even if he wasn’t well. Even at this age, he walked quiet a lot. He would grab the hand of one of my cousins (he lived with my chacha) and would take him along for a long walk. Or if he wanted to go out for sometime, or if he felt exhausted sitting at home all the time, he would go and sit in the car indicating that he wants someone to come along and drive him somewhere. He kept himself fit. He decided about his diet and the times at which he’d eat. If he had a heavy breakfast, he would either not have lunch at all, or delay it. If he had something in the evening, he wouldn’t have dinner.

He loved Ice-creams. In fact, being more general, he loved sweets. The routine drives at around mid day almost always meant a cup for ice-cream. I also got a chance to take him for an ice-cream drive a couple of times when I was at my chacha’s place. It felt great when, probably for making sure I won’t leave him alone, he would hold my left hand that I used for changing gears. He would know it when we reached outside the shop where we bought ice-cream for him from. He would let go of your hand so that you can go and bring ice-cream for him. And while driving, if you try leaving his hand, he would hold it even more tightly, telling you he wont let you get away .

For the last couple of years, probably because of weakness or because of the age factor, he couldn’t speak. A couple of words that he spoke often were “Neeyat”, indicating that it was time for prayers, and “Nahin”, when he wanted to say no to something. Otherwise he would only nod his head. This summers when I was in Lahore, I once went to my chacha’s place where I loudly said Salam (in a specific way that was assumed to be the code between dada abba and me), and amazingly, dada abba replied in his same specific code tone saying WalaikumusSalam, although he said it in split words. Everyone was amazed at seeing him reply and trying to speak. I asked him “ki haal hai ji” (how are you) and he replied, again in broken words, “Alhamdulillah” (meaning I’m fine with the grace of Allah). This then became the talk of the day. Dada abba talked to Haris. I felt special . I asked him if he’d come to my place for a couple of days, but he didn’t say anything after that.

The Salam code that I had between dada abba and me was something very special. Since my childhood, I heard him say Salam in a very specific way. He would stretch a few syllables and would say others in a normal way, making the complete word Assalamualaikum a bit difficult to pronounce. Everyone would try answering him with WalaikumusSalam in that very tone and stretching of syllables etc. That’s when I also learned answering his specific Salam. I gained perfection at it, and then it used to be me and dada abba. Although my brother also used to reply with quiet perfection, but bhayya, if you’re reading, I can bet I was better . After dada abba found it increasingly difficult to speak, I would say Salam in that specific code, and he would smile.

Although not lately, but about 4 or 5 years back, dada abba used to give out Kharchi (pocket money) to all his grandchildren. He would actually give it to one person (the youngest of siblings) and that person would then distribute it amongst other of his siblings. Being the youngest of my siblings, I used to get the kharchi from him. We would anxiously wait for the start of the month, the time when we got our pockets refilled. As soon as it was the day, we would go to him thinking we’d remind him and ask him why he forgot our kharchi, but every time we asked him, he took out the exact amount of money and handed it over to us. He always remembered it before us and had the exact amount of change as well, so that it was always convenient for us.

I can’t forget my dadi’s voice when she talked to me after my dada died. I felt so alone. The worst part of living in a hostel and away from your family is that you are not near your near ones. I could only ask my family about the time of Janazah and the mosque where the janazah was offered, and the grave yard where he was laid to rest . May Allah grant him the highest of places in Jannat. May Allah forgive him. May Allah be pleased with him. Ameen.

As one of my friends mentioned, we all have to return to our creator, its just a matter of time. May Allah guide us all to sirat-e-mustaqeem. May Allah give us the taufeeq to serve our parents and grandparents. Ameen. I’d request you all to please remember my dada in your prayers. Jazakallah!

Muneeba turns 6 today

Muneeba turns 6 today Masha-Allah. Although I am just too busy with my exams, but this post was due because of Muneeba. May allah give her a long and a helthy life Insha-Allah. Abdullah also had his birthday on the 7th of October. He turned 2 years old Masha-Allah.

I have two more exams to go, Need your prayers everyone. I hope I havent lost my readers because of staying out of touch with my blog . Insha-Allah I’d be back, and with a lot of content as well . Take care!