Sunrise timelapse, Part 1; Night At 3: 50 a.m., today, right after Sehri, I decided that I wanted to make a time lapse of the sunrise. The place with the best view was my house's roof but if I used the stairs to get up there, I would have to go through a hard to open, rusty hinged, metallic door which makes enough noise to wake up the conscience of tyrants, and which would surely wake up my rather angelic, not-at-all-tyrannical parents. So I had to resort to using the alternative; climbing footholds built in to a wall connected with the roof, and then when I had reached the top, walk/ crawl on the top of the wall to the edge of the roof and use it to hoist myself up, on to the roof. I had been rather fond of this way when I had been 13, believing I was an Assassin from the Assassin's Creed franchise. But at the age of 21, in absolute darkness, I had to gather my courage to do this. And this brought that very obvious but also not thought about realization in my mind; I had aged from a child to a teen to an adult in what seemed an instant and it would take just another instant for me to turn into an Aged adult. 4 a.m., on the roof, I found a brick and used it as a support for my phone, and with songs playing on my headphones, started the timelapse. The first thirty minutes were unremarkable, except for two occasions; both on which a villager had seen what must have been, presumably, my silhouette against the ever so slowly brightening light of the sky, and proceeded to run away screaming when I had moved back or forth. Sitting on what is, after the Masjid's Minaret, the highest point reachable in the village, this scenario should have been obvious to me but my ageing mind didn't think of this. Sigh. At 4: 30 a.m., my alarm rang and my phone was moved from its position, just when my phone had started to finally capture the meek beginnings of the twilight. Why had I forgotten to turn off the alarm? Ageing mind. Sigh.
"Don't say anything that may come back to haunt you" Oft repeated, oft ignored. Raise your head up and look around. How many of those around you are what they shamed another person for being? Too many. The person who preached against carrying your heart on your sleeve, falling in love easily, that person who thought grief only came to those who let it in, falling prey to it and on and on it goes; fate's twisted humour manifesting itself time and time again. And at that moment, when you see they who condemned you, involved in, nay, propagating the very same behaviour/ act, the act of mocking them for their apparent hypocrisy, whether in front of them or behind them, is almost cathartic in the relief it provides, because to want to hurt, to mock those who have hurt/ mocked us is all too human. But is all that is human, good? Do we not see how there are parts of the human self so destructive, so barbaric in their nature that they propagate war upon war, stop us from sharing, just because it feels so good. I do not believe in Karma. The Dharmic belief of Karma implicitly places the blame for an individual's misfortune on that person themselves, and though it feels good to think that the reason why another person is suffering/ has changed into what they are, is because it's the Universe itself exacting retribution for them wronging us, I find that a very harmful viewpoint to the world at large because I have seen those almost angelic in the purity of their selves and their interactions with the world, bearing through events that are almost Dantaesque in the emotional/ physical torment they wreck upon the victims and I have seen human incarnations of Mephistopheles whose world is but sunshine and butterflies, thus I would rather believe that the divine retribution will be exacted in the after life, right now, we are all just going through our daily struggles and most of what we suffer is not because of what we have done but rather because life is as it is. Charity is also human, so won't you be human, won't you be kind? Won't you open that hand that use to point, to help that person you're pointing towards? #aesthetic
Not really a mother's day post, more like a throwback post because a) first birthday b) this looks like a renaissance painting scene c) my mother has to deal with aisay tantrums meray abhi tak and d) just look how deftly my mother is maneuvering her writhing, squirming son's body to let Dadi Ami put my ring on.😂 #tb to 1996 #firstbirthday
Despite the heat wave, food cools down faster than before, I think as I take the reheated plate out of the microwave. How else am I to explain why my food turned cold a moment after it was put on the table? I had been in one of my reveries so surely that moment was of the same duration as all the other such moments; moments in which I wonder why people persist in creating gigantic edifices in the name of religion, when they haven't been able to find the forgiveness that they so crave in the vastness of this world, in which I think how I love wearing white shalwar qameez because of how, on sunny days, when I look down I can't see anything but the sunlight being reflected, making me feel invisible and with me, my sins, and I ponder over all that I have lost, through my own choices and fate. This moment is just long enough for my unbearably hot food to become warm, or it should be, but today it's enough to turn it completely cold. I don't understand... Perhaps the moment is taking longer than it should, what with my having lost ev- And my food is cold again.
I know that we all know that we glorify/ deify/ demonize those who have done us wrong. Why? Because it would be too insulting, too embarrassing to admit the alternative, that we were fragile enough to have been harmed and/ or hurt by the actions of an ordinary human. Because by turning the arguably ordinary person who broke our heart into Aphrodite, we absolve ourselves of the sin of not recognizing from the beginning the quirks in that person, that would be incompatible with our own, for you see they had no quirks, they just inflicted cruelty because it was in their divine nature! Same goes for when we lose a friend. Worse though because the pain is worse and so we paint them as Judas, that they are by their very nature deceitful and selfish, even though a part of our brain decries such claims as lies for it remembers all the moments they were anything but. So on and so forth, until our lives, when seen through our eyes, seem like Dante's Inferno, Purgatario and Paradiso, juxtaposed on one plain. Anything to exonerate ourselves.
In Aitchison's boarding houses, there's a line up at 5:30-6 p.m.(depending on the time of the Maghreb Namaz) for the Maghreb Namaz and all the boarders are supposed to wear white Shalwar Qameez(with Sherwanis in winter) at it. And so it was one such lineup on an afternoon in November 2010; standing in line, waiting for the housemaster to tell us to head of to the on-campus mosque, we started to talk amongst ourselves but soon I found myself the center of attention, and as anyone who has been around newly-turned-teenager boys can tell you, that is never a good thing. "Oye tou Mahabharat parh raha tha aaj?" "Haan! Us main aik itni mazay ki kahani thi, badshaah jangal main-", I had starting answering, oblivious to the audience's mood in my enthusiasm to share what I had read, before I was interrupted. "Greek God of hunting ka naam kiya hai", they asked, in what I now understand was a mocking voice "Mera khayal main Greek Goddess hai Artemis" "Dekha bata raha houn na Mufti pagal hogaya hai, dekhna yeh Islam chour jaye ga anqareeb" "Tum loug tou jahil hou, woh tum sai zayada parhta hai tou jealous hokar kehtay hou yeh pagal hogaya hai" another friend had answered. And then we had all gone for the Namaz. I remember this because 8 years on, some of those very people who had been concerned with my leaving Islam, are themselves now involved in, let's say activities, which Islam discourages( putting it mildly) while I am, well, me. I do not say this to look down upon them, they made their own choices, they have their own lives but it just made me think that if I had been not as stubborn as I am, perhaps I would have given up reading on these things which interest me, just because of them exerting peer pressure and then what would I have been? I shudder To all the teenagers reading this: read whatever you want, explore whatever you want, don't fall prey to the identity crisis that some people around you want to force you into, you shall remain you no matter what: If you stop exploring/ reading about whatever, whenever society tells you to stop even though you want to continue, you'll be safe. However if you continue, you'll be interesting. #travel
#tb to January 2017 when these boys came to Pakpattan.