fine!

33

since its not allowed to bombard examiners with sob stories, i was wondering what would be the next best strategy in case of an emergency (like if i can only manage to answer 2 out of 4 (out of 8  ) questions..with a brain like mine, one cant be too sure)…..so i have concocted a very subtle but potentially effective plan B…and since i am a noble soul with  a very generous disposition i have decided to share its details with you..

step A: fill a fountain pen with water

step B: take that pen with your (ink-filled) pens and ballpens to the examination hall..(i need not add,this step is crucial for the successful execution of the plan)

step C: answers as much questions as you possibly can…dont get overwhelmed by this seemingly gigantic task..since you took the trouble of contemplating this plan, you would probably need to answer 2 questions max

step D: when your ink-filled pen stops working (primarily due to lack of signals from the grey cells) bring out the customized H2O pen

step E: remove its outer capsule and gently squeeze the filler to eject drops of water….drop them at the blank end of your answer sheet at strategic locations…(For God’s sake dont end up soaking the 2 sheets you so laboriously filled)

And since tears are words the heart can’t express , its solemnly hoped the examiner would undertand this heart-felt message…and even if the cold-blooded dream-murderer fails to rise to the occassion, rest assurred he wont be able to bring any charges of examiner-manipulation against you…see? no downside only pluses..

ps: thanks for sharing my glee in the last post…with friends like you who needs any friends

ps2: guess how many times the word “since” was used in the post?

35 ( i guess)

yeeehaa…i have joined The Tribe..

& here is the proof, my slick wi-tribe modem lying next to my would-be-ex NTC modem..just check out the blinding green light,reminds one of polar aurora….sach hai, daine wala jub bhi daita da—err ziada ho gaya? ok then lets go straight to the background

once upon a time i had the misfortune of opting for en tee cee* ’s dsl…initially they (dsl and customer service) were terrific simply because they were not operating it on their own..yeah they outsourced my connection to Micronet guys due to capacity overload issue i think.. …later on they developed the capacity  (*scoff*) and took me back on board,resulting in a very miserable me…network problems became a norm instead of exception…the single customer service technician they had, became our adopted family member…every other day he was found in my room..twiddling with the messy but cunning  connection that always started working the minute he laid his hands, nay, Eyes on it…leaving me in a very awkward position…i bet all the staff at that dept thought i harbored guilty passion for that technician guy..his pathan looks were no help either..

khair, i mentioned this to a friend and this led to my recent acquisition of this gadget..God, i love this word; g.a.d.g.e.t

ok before i really lose it, or someone starts feeling awed by my nonexistent prosperity, let me casually mention a related detail…the wi-guys are giving away free modems to employees of some organizations on their panel..(whatever it means)..you can use it for free till feb, then from march you start coughing up the money or return the modem..

What. the.hell.was.this.post.all.about?!!!!

and here is the sum total of the machines i own (in addition to the years old camera which took the pic and a cell that is gone for repairs)

anyone still in doubt about my cop pop’s honesty?

44-n

Death itself is bad enough, add to it murder, suicide or accident and one is left with tantalizing Who, Why and What ifs….Waisay a quick question..in your opinion, what would be the Divine verdict for a Muslim who committed suicide under the influence of drugs? Would he be tried for suicide? Or would he qualify for lenience since he wasn’t in full control of his faculties, drugs being his chief flaw?

*sigh* Is it just me or suicides (even of perfect strangers) affect you the same way?

As for the barely alive me, I am fine Alhamdulilah..(yeah I know,saying that insinuates that you are being bombarded with concerned queries about your health, even if the last email your inbox received,originated from itself..(gimme a break! I am not that desperate, I just like to create a backup online inventory of important documents) *cough*

Prep is continuing in its mercurial vein, though calculations are doing good…

I have discovered (and contracted) a cellphone syndrome…if I write an SMS about P’s rude behaviour or sth to send it to Z, I end up sending this masterpiece of m-backbiting to P instead of Z….yup, I am in last stages of this syndrome…I have run out of excuses like “P I have another P friend too..i was talking about her (to a third P friend whose number is listed just below yours) or I wouldn’t have fwdd it to you, would i? *smiley*”

Pray for me guys…seriously

PS: find the value of n

44

yeah its a countdown.

actually i loved the ones successfully completed by my e-friends, M, Hira and Leena…so i thought why not launch one myself?..though admittedly there was a slight problem;shortage (in fact extinction) of  a mandatory dulha..err are you picturing me in red & gold, looking at the deserted road,,whisperig  guests in the background?? hehe,picture away but this countdown is about the shot-in-the-foot exam i decided to take without anyone egging me on..since i heard from someone (on the inside) that record 12,000 (TWELVE FREAKING THOUSAND) candidates applied this year for vacancies that are mostly around 200, i am exhibiting pre-traumatic stress disorders symptoms…for instance my sleeping hours have stretched to 12 ,  from 12 am to 12pm while rest of them are probably cramming up to their noses…i do weird calculations on calculator every 3 minutes, err i assume my marks for ever paper n add them up to see if they cross 700…if they dont i keep on adding 5 and 6s here n there, until they finally do..then hugely satisfied with my estimated performance, i take some time off to watch HBO movie..when credits roll, i run back to my room to study some more..but hard work tends to wear off my delicate body, i end up curling up beneath the blankets..oh dont you just love winter?..then i get up after a while,freaked out by some nightmare featuring my failure.. to ward off the evil feeling, i seek reassurance in my———books? Nah..Calculations!!! i do them all over again..after scoring 700, i open a book or two and study upto 3 hours…3/12 hours is better average than say, 3/24..dont you think?

and to jazz things up a bit more, my immediate family has left no stone unturned in letting the distant family n friends know about my upcoming appearance in the said exam,,,, to gather maximum prayers ofcourse…

i think i wanted to point out the similarities between a wedding and this exam in this post..but somehow they have slipped out of my mind…care to help me in recalling them?

ps: i am not that good with counting…but since its a countdown, i’ll appreciate if anyone can confirm that from today to 6th march, there is a gap of 44 days.

Voices from Beyond

i vividly remember our trip to the British Library, London.and of all the things they had there, the ones that fascinated me were sound recordings…there were millions of them!!…baba pointed out the names of leaders i could listen to..Quaid-e-Azam’s speech was there too..but when he turned away,i immediately played the voice of Titanic’s captain..yeah, i was afterall a silly sixteen years old starry-eyed thingy.. headphones perched on my dreamy head, i stood there listening to crackling sounds, mainly indistinguishable to my ears…but that was still an experience…listening to the voices of so many dead people in one go..i think i even played Florence nightingale’s clip..hoping in vain that someone, anyone of them would communicate to me, some clue, some signal, at least a career advice ..but it was not to be :/

what prompted this flashback? actually i was just reading about Radio Pakistan.& when i read that announcement of Pakistan creation was made by the Pakistan Broadcasting service, i was overcome by the desire to hear it with my own ears…*sighhh*

update: radio Pakistan has a sound archive!! now all i have to do is find a tagri safarish to make those people cooperate with me..so, anyone with a relative/friend in radio pakistan?

though i understand if you dont want to reveal that your near and dear one(s) works for Radio Pakistan…i mean— 

i cant access my gmail account it isnt even showing any error…only the filled username and password entries go blank everytime i hit sign in….i think its them, worms…the only surprising and mildly entertaining detail is, i am not even panicking..i guess i am too spent to feel something so minor…or else i am finally growing up i just did a disc cleanup all by myself, Start > Programs > Accessories > System Tools – Disk CleanUp

after googling it of course

though i am not really sure that it will help

downdate

penned a short story last night..and thats a problem…penned it..now its dawning on me that a) it would be very time-consuming to type it as its not exactly a  short short story .  b) my writing skills are barely good enough for trashing someone else’s work let alone coming up with something um original  c) what purpose would it possibly serve?.

so with these realistic though thoroughly depressing thoughts swirling in my head, i have decided to defer its publication..

what an update! announcing that something is not gonna take place and that thing is something nobody was looking forward to anyway…*sighhh*

khair

A discarded sketch

A stained empty cup

An eye gone blind

A wilted plant

An empty nest

A torn book

A squeezed lemon

An abandoned puppy

A wrinkled face

An extinguished fire

A broken shard

A gutted fish

A forsaken home

what do they have in common?

DUH!

they no longer have what they once had..

can it get any deeper than this? 

another dose of Arab poets

Ibn al-rumi was poisoned by Caliph Mu’tadid’s vizier, who dreaded his satires.The minister suborned a servant who served the poet with a poisoned biscuit. When Ibn al-rumi had eaten it, he perceived he had been poisoned and rose to depart. “where are you going?” said the minister.”whither you have sent me”. “Very good”,replied the vizier,”present my duty to my father”.“I am not on my road to hell!” answered the poet.

that’s my poet!

Thabit ibn jabir was surnamed Ta’abbata-sharran (one who carries evil under his arm) because he carried a sharp knife with him.He was a robber; he could run down the very gazelles.in his poems, he mentions his adventures with the ghouls and how he saw them with their two eyes set in the middle of a hideous head, like a cat’s, their splitup tongues and mishappen legs.

Abu wahab, a man of Thaqif, who was a coward inspite of his inches met the famous runner one day,when he himself was wearing a handsome cloak. He inquired how it was that he could overcome every one, though he was short and slight and stunted. “It is my name’,replied the brigand.”when I meet a man,I say ‘I am Ta’abbata-Sharran’, then his courage melts away and he gives me whatever I demand.”

The questioner proposed that he should buy the other’s name, the price to be the gorgeous cloak and the right to bear the surname Abu wahb; the bargain was struck, and the purchaser gave up his new garment, receiving rags and tatters in exchange.

But the poet went from tribe to tribe singing, “though we may have exchanged names, who will give Abu wahb my patience in adversity, my indomitable courage in the face of all misfortunes?”

Bloody cheater!

Famous everywhere for his unbounded generosity is Hatim, of the tribe of Tai. If he found any one to share his food he would eat, otherwise he threw it away. Once His father sent him to herd the camels. On reaching the pasture, he found 3 riders who were 3  poets, Abid bin al-abras, Nabigha and Bishr ibn Abi khazim, on their way to King Numan. Hatim immediately slaughtered 3 camels for them. Abid said, “We desired no entertainment save milk, but if thou must needs charge thyself with something more, a single youg she-camel wuld have sufficed us”. Hatim replied, “That I know, but seeing different faces and diverse fashions I thought ye were not of the same country and I wished that each of you should mention what you saw, on returning home.” So they spoke verses in praise of him and celebrated his generosity and hatim sad,” I wshed to bestow a kindness upon youy but your bounty is greater than mine. I swear to God I will hamstring every camel in the herd unless ye come forwad and divide them among yourselves”. The poets did as he desired and each man recved inety-nine camels. When Hatim’s father heard of this he came to him and asked, “where are the camels?” “O my father”, replied Hatim, “by means of them I have conferred on thee everlasting fame and honour that will cleave to thee like the ring of ringdove and men will always bear in mind some verse of the poetry in which we are praised.this is thy recompense for the camels”. On hearing these words his father said, “By God I will never dwell with thee again”. So he went forth with his family and hatim was left alone.

WTH?!  Such generosity prompted by a craving for fame? I mean ok, I understand if people find the idea of being famous for beauty, brains, riches or honesty inviting. but fame for generosity? *gulp* sounds like a double-edged sword to me, constantly living up to lofty expectations of so many people…you are bound to disappoint, nahin?