Sunday, March 11, 2007

Heeaaalppp Needed

People i.e. bloggers - I require some much needed directions to get some things on my blog to function normally. Getting complaints on how the comment window shows an error, therefore making it difficult to leave any comments.

Couldn't access any of the wordpress blogs - Mansoor: http://wordofmansoor.com - was kind enough to help. Although I wasted a couple of hours leaving comments on several wordpress blogs which havent turned up.

While helping with this please keep in mind you are not dealing with a behind-the-scenes-savvy computer person. So details please. :)

Thanks

Malfunctioning Weather

The weather here is mal-functioning again. Karachi weather is as confused as the people that reside here. Today, I have to admit, I am loving this particular weather abnormality. Woke up to growling thunder, a strong wind and cotton candy sky. Then I heard the ping ponging on the roof and knew this one wasn’t a teaser. Nothing can wake me up as quickly as rain - unless it’s Dad in one of his moods.

I stand in front of the window, hypnotized and calmed by the constant sheets of falling water. During a break, a plane heads for the runway rattling my windows, a train toot toots in the distance. I just stand devouring it all in, letting my senses flare. Aren’t there times when you feel you can absorb energy from something as simple as rain. Though, truth be told at the moment am craving a couple of French toasts or a stack of pancakes with lots of dripping maple syrup and a large glass of orange juice or green tea. Wish Mom was here, she’d whip up something magically suiting this weather. I think I am going to end up with a large mug of the dreaded MILK…urgh…I’m so not a milk person. The buffalo milk here – and if anyone says its cow milk I’m liable to do some serious damage – has half the buffalo swimming in it, the smell is nausea inducing, the milk itself gets your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth with all the free floating fat and it curdles into something nasty when it hits your throat. Now that’s a mood dampener. I think in the last couple of months I’ve tried several brands just to find one that I don’t have to taste, so far its been OLWELL’s hi-Cal, low-Fat mixture, but their ad leaves a lot to be desired, why use the tag-line “You are Unstoppable”...or something along those lines, idiots don’t realize that everything and everyone is Stoppable! Hitler was eventually stopped, the Energizer Bunny stops when his batteries die out. And I’ve in all certainty digressed.

First thing I did when I jumped out of bed was call home, tell sis its raining and held the phone to the world outside asking her “Can you hear it?” Mom was on the extension so they both did. I’m sure it brought smiles all around. Wish I were home, with Bubloo-the cat curled up on my lap enjoying the weather, or well in his case he’d be calling his several lady-loves. We are seriously thinking of getting him neutered, though the thought of castrated male makes me wince. Not surprisingly, Dad and bro are totally against it, but with feline aids rampant, we have been advised several times to make him “happy and safe”. Bubloo is going to be so darned upset if he looses any part of his manhood. If we gave him the choice, he’d prefer to die sexually replete. Please don’t ask me how I know what goes around in my cat’s head, but he definitely has the females flocking. It’s probably got to do with the whole black-guy-satisfaction-guaranteed myth. Or is it a fact? Atleast, in Bubloo’s case it is definitely working. Here I go off on another tangent…

Anyways, getting back to the present. After last night’s madness, this is definitely a gift from the heavens. Literally. Before, I had realized that the weather had turned absolutely wonderful, several conversations from last night were playing amok in my head. I kept tossing and turning, cringing, telling myself that I could have said this, or that, not encouraged the argument, or given this advice to this person…but since the moments are lost, it is pointless to go over something that cannot be taken back.

Just this minute thunder did some amazing sound acrobats, and lightening added to the glamour. Show Offs. The craving for food is making my intestines knot, so am going to go fix myself the French toast and brew some green tea. No MILK today. Then I’m going to sit on my bean bag, lights off and enjoy this unexpected show, who has seen what tomorrow will bring. Hot, humid, dusty weather?

Thinking

Its that time of the night when you sit all by yourself and reflect on how your day went. Today, I have counted every minute of every hour to get to this one hour past midnight. I know exactly what I did minute by minute since I woke up, there isn’t much of what I did that seems to matter but what I thought and how I felt. Being quarantined is not helping matters either. (Don't ask) I have too much time on my hands to think.

Think about today, tomorrow and the last nine months I have been away. And no I was not pregnant. So many things have changed. Additions. Good byes. Compromises. Losses. Life. Death. I’ve changed yet am the same. Some things just defy logic, yet I look for answers. Maybe some day I’ll find them hiding somewhere inside me, but then again maybe not. For they may not be my answers to find.

Its never been about questioning life or raising a frustrated fist at destiny. It’s about the decisions that I make which lead me to where I am today. One thing that keeps coming back to calm me is that along the way my faith has strengthened. There are no regrets of where I am. This is me living my life moment by moment. Treasuring the yesterdays, memorizing the todays, and smiling at the tomorrows.

Sitting here just now, makes me wonder why I stayed away for so long from doing something I love. It wasn’t that there wasn’t magic to share, but there was no heart in the magic. I couldn’t wave my wand and create something that satisfied me. There are times when there is so much happening and your mind just shuts down. Its blank. Its numb. And you wish, wish with everything inside you that words would just flow. In your head. In your heart. But, all you hear is your heart beating a slow tattoo in your head.

Two nights ago, I felt like a man lost but being mule-headed about asking directions. After two hours of trying, every damn thing I could think of I gave in and sent blogger the request for user name and password retrieval. Hardly took two minutes to get back on. *Sigh*
Can't say how long I intend to stay for, although truth be told if fellow bloggers hadnt kept dropping in those comments, I probably wouldnt be here now. I'd have given it a couple o' more months. Credit goes to the ones who enjoy my ramblings.

Thursday, March 08, 2007

Silence of the Dead


The first step inside has the fast pace of life receding to nothingness. The second step and the silence is absolute. The birds are respectfully quiet. In this air of peace, vacuums of restlessness are almost tangible. I walk on, the sun beating on my covered head. Beating drums, or is it my heart? In this place of rest, the sound seems insultingly loud.

I am directed towards an ancestor, now encased in marble. I pray. I pray for him, I pray for me. This is all that is left of him, besides the blood that now flows in my veins. I meet others, some I know, and some from before my time. I greet and pray, for mine and the companions to mine. Strangers now neighbours.

I pray for peace. Their and mine.

Finally, I stand before the one I have come to meet. Even here her simplicity is apparent. No shining marble, no marker – just a little stone with a wilted plant. I kneel at her feet, my hand on the burning sand. The tears fall freely, yet no sound emerges to disturb her slumber. My heart aching with the need to feel her arms around me. I hope she knows I have come. I hope she forgives me for not always, being there when she needed me. For as long as I can remember, she has been my anchor. She stood by me when there was no one else. I pray she is happy and at peace.

I miss you gran’ma.

As I walk out, I hear them call me back. To speak of their joys and sorrows, their pains and trials, speak of the living who have forgotten that the dead still exist.

At the entrance, I stop to glance back one last time, wondering who will I rest next to. My heart silently promises to come back. To meet them again. To offer what I can.

My salutations and prayers for the people of the graves. May Peace be Upon You.