Sunday, May 31, 2009

Mehnat.

The stage. The backdrop, every tiny thing is handmade.

The entrance. Grabbed chairs, strained our necks and backs wrapping the slippery pink chiffon on to the poles and pinning it in place. Then cutting out flowers of silver paper, cutting out minuscule circles of purple and pink crepe to stick inside the flowers. Stuck the flowers onto silver dori and looped it around it the whole pole, scattering a few flowers at the bottom. Then tying up the trailing cloth with silver dori.


Our masterpiece. The titles. Buying, hauling, washing, spray-painting wine bottles. 72 in total. Then cutting tiny pieces of silver paper, colored paper, decorating with silver pens and markers and pink and mauve ribbons.



Farewell 2009.

I was supposed to get to the uni around 2:30 p.m. and I got there after 3. The party was supposed to start around 3:30. Aamna and I are hurrying around here and there, putting final touches on stuff, not letting anyone else in because the entrance still wasn't done. We completed all the decorations by 3:25 and then let everyone in.
Problem No. 1: The A.C.s weren't working. There were about 8-10 of them in the Seminar Hall (where the party was being held) and only 4 or 5 worked. Anyway, we called up some of the men from the offices and begged/pleaded/cried and finally got them to work.

Problem No. 2: Total multimedia shutdown. All the seniors were there, our teachers had arrived including our Head of Department, and the audio system refused to work. We tested it the day before, the morning of the day, and just before the party. It was in perfect working order and then somehow it just... died. Aamna called home and asked her dad to bring her woofers and since her house is pretty far away, we had to wait quite a while. Imagine, a party with no air-conditioning, no music, no nothing. Tension running high, fights breaking out here and there. Weeks of intense practise and preparation and running around in Anarkali and Pace, trying to get those damned hats and no music to dance to.

Khair. We started giving out the bottles, then - the one with the titles. Everyone adored them, especially the teachers. Lots of hooting, loads of fun.

And then the speakers arrived. The hall went nuts when we started the dances. They were all pretty good, thank God. The songs were all fun, upbeat and short so nobody got bored.

Then came the teachers' parody. Oh Lord, they LOVED it. I was mimicking the Head of Deptt., who also happens to be my favorite teacher (yes, the feeling's quite mutual =P), and 3 other friends of mine acted as the other teachers we had. We'd never rehearsed the script since no-one had the time, instead just ran through it once before our performance. When we went onstage, all of us forgot the script. We winged it. Totally winged it and gave it our all. The teachers were literally letting out belly-laughs and we couldn't control our laughter onstage, it was A-W-E-S-O-M-E~! Quite possibly one of the best times of the evening.
And then the seniors started their acts. Why, we have no idea. They were the ones getting the farewell, why the hell were they performing? Anyway, that went well too. They had this movie they made of their years in the uni... and it didn't work. LOL. No, I shouldn't be amused but I was because I had made this slide show for them and that DID work and everyone was impressed, even the seniors. It was great. Some of them got so emotional, they started crying.

We started winding everything up by 7:30 p.m. and then served dinner. And cake. All the teachers came up to me and told me that they loved the mimicry and I got lots of hugs. Lol.

I got texts and calls and hugs of thank yous from my teachers and the seniors. No, I'm not bragging, I'm just still on a high that we pulled this off, despite some major hitches. Here's a text from a senior, one that I really liked:
"Thanks a lot for making our last day so memorable... it was great.. everything went so awesome... and all of the memories we'll take away and remember forever are all because of you. The slide show you made was awesome and so were all the other things. We'll never forget this day. From our whole class, THANK YOU!"

... See why I'm high? One of the best days of my life it was =)

Saturday, May 30, 2009

Drumroll, Please.

Ladies and gentlemen, I am a hit.
The party was awesome, despite total media fiasco. Shall upload pics of our shadeed mehnat soon.

And yes, I was a hit =D
*booty-shake*

Friday, May 29, 2009

Lotus Totus.

A friend sent these in an email. Yes, I know they're old and probably not very interesting... but still =)

One. Give people more than they expect and do it cheerfully.

Two. Marry a man or woman you love to talk to. As you get older, their conversational skills will be as important as any other.

Three. Don't believe all you hear, spend all you have or sleep all you want.

Four. When you say 'I love you', mean it.

Five. When you say 'I'm sorry', look the person in the eye.

Six. Be engaged at least six months before you get married.

Seven. Believe in love at first sight.

Eight. Never laugh at any one's dreams. People who don't have dreams don't have much.

Nine. Love deeply and passionately. You might get hurt but its the only way to live life completely.

Ten. In disagreements, fight fairly. No name-calling.

Eleven. Don't judge people by their relatives.

Twelve. Remember that great love and great achievements involve great risks.

Thirteen. When you lose, don't lose the lesson.

Fourteen. Smile when you pick up the phone. The caller will hear it in your voice. (Although in Pakistan, that's sorta an invitation for phone-stalkers to stalk you for years to come.)

Fifteen. Spend some time alone.

Thursday, May 28, 2009

The Day I Spent With M.A.Kasana.

She took me to the most popular make-out spot in her university. Sending out signals? LOUD and CLEAR, Mehreen =D

<3

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Sheetz.

Ek kali topi, ek kali shirt, ek red tie aur ek kali jean chahiye. Meray pas jean ke ilawa kuch nai hai. Meri team-mates ke pas wo be nahi hai. Hum boht gareeb hain. Nayee khareednay ka faida koi nai, 2 mins ke liye pehnni hai. 


Sheetz mayn, vut to do??!!

Monday, May 25, 2009

Sunday, May 24, 2009

Long Time, Eh?

Wow. I've never had this much of a gap between my posts. Ah well. I'm incredibly busy, and strangely enough, I'm not satisfied. I'm not happy with it, even though I hate sitting idle. I don't know why this is, its just weird that this ennui won't go away. No matter how busy, or how not busy I am. 

Other than that, life's pretty good. We're giving the titles to our seniors pasted on wine bottles, and yes, it caused a major fiasco in our department. Imagine: A girl with a dupatta on her head at all times, full-sleeved clothing, achi/shareef bachi (yes, this was the general consensus, not specifically mine =P) and carrying wine bottles, stinking of alcohol. I was going to the bathroom to wash the labels and stink off, when suddenly the whole Islamiyat Department teachers made this semi-circle around my friend and I. The bathroom is just about three feet away from the Islamiyat Deptt.

"Ye aap kya kar rahi hain?!" A huge woman, covered with a black burqa, glaring and literally shaking with fury. 

Me: "Er... bottles dhonay ja rai hun?" 

Teacher: "AAP NE KYA KARNA HAI IN HARAAM CHEEZON KA?! SHARAM NAI ATI?!"

Me *shaking with suppressed laughter*: "Its for the party we're throwing."

Teacher *horror making her eyes bug out*: "VAAAT??!!! MATLAB KYA HAI AAP KA?!"

*all other teachers gasp and make muttering noises that sound suspiciously like 'Astaghfirullah'*

Me, realizing that she thought I intended to pass out wine to drink, could barely control the urge to burst out laughing. I explained to her what I intended and she stared at me suspiciously till I offered to scrub off the bottle in front of her. 

Teacher *more glares*: "Jayen yahan se."

And then the bathroom ki safai wali banned us from the bathroom. 

Khair. All the bottles are half-way done and they look really hot. Will upload pictures soon. Pray that it goes exactly as planned, and no attention-grabbing, dominating, superiority-complex wali class-mates spoil all the hard work. 

Mujhe aisay karna hai:
  

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Marina.

Marina mera Ek Iklota Pyaar hai. Haan jee. Bus.

psst...paise time per bhejwa dena

Cheekh Lo.

Sab kuch itna fazool kyun hai? Shayad garmi ki wajah se. HATE, HATE, HATE IT. Fazool, fazool. I like repeating random words. People with schizophrenia do too. Does that mean I have the tendency to develop it? La la la. Maybe. I hate University. Har Tuesday, sara din light nai hoti wahan pe and the generators can only work for so long, especially since we have spashul mehmaan walay saaminaar every other day. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Kya bakwas hai. You know that weird awazaari? Jo har garmiyon mein ho jati hai? Wo cheez hai aj kal. Till um.. I don't know... THE NEXT SIX MONTHS MAYBE? Meine Islamabad jana hai. I like Islamabad. I shouted a lot today. Mostly at my class ki -censored- larkiyan. They annoy the sheetz out of me, man. So, I have a hoarse throat. And Lonely, you're right, it IS my blog, but I live for all of the comments I get (being an attention-hoe ain't easy, boy) Lol, so its not all mine. Unless the mood changes. Khair, jo bhi. Neeli's stopped commenting. Maybe even reading. Sadia bhi gayab hai. Kasana to... bus. Thursday, beta. Thursday. I actually don't like the green text, but if I change the color, the pink hurts my eyes, yes Ubaid, I know it all hurts your eyes, and blue is... well. Too blue. I want to see a blue moon. Has anyone seen one? My friend brought her tiny sister to uni today. She's about 8 months old, Mashallah. AND OMG SO PURTY! <3 
She was frowning the whole time, the little girl. Haha, she looked so damn cute. Mashallah. Meine concert per jana hai. Mujhe nai pata kis ka, I just wanna go. I want to graduate already, Goddammit. Bored, annoyed, lazy. Too much work. Practical copy banana itna fazool kaam hai. Why the fuck would anyone want to know about anyone's else's memory span? Who CARES? So, I'm getting calls, yay. Mein ja rai hun. Bye.

Monday, May 18, 2009

Legend Says

A smile on her lips, a dream in her eyes, she leaned her head against the cool, cool glass of her window, listening to the rain make its steady, dependable, pitter-patter. Waiting, her eyes searching the path in front of her home idly, waiting for him. Spotting him, her face brightened with pleasure, as if a light had gone on inside her. She waited impatiently for him to make his way inside, where she stood, waiting. 

His eyes warmed at the pretty sight of her, with her lithe form fairly vibrating with energy. Pausing at the threshold, he said,

"Another story you want today, my love?"

She laughed, full and free. "Am I that obvious, then?"

"To me, you are." he said, amusement plain in his face and voice.

They settled into their quaint little kitchen and she leaned forward across the table towards him, with anticipation plain in her eyes.

"Alright then, I'll tell you a story that I was told by my grandfather and, and to him by his grandfather and so on for as far back as anyone can remember."

"Sentimental men? Most legends or stories are passed down from the mother", she said.

"Yes, we are a sentimental lot. Do you want to hear the story, or not?" he asked with mock annoyance.

"Oh, please tell, by all means" she said, in a voice quivering with suppressed laughter.

And he began.

"There lived a maid known by the name of Gwen. She was of humble birth, but the breeding of a lady showed in her bearing and manner. She had hair as pale gold as winter sunlight, and eyes as green as moss. Her beauty was known throughout the land, as she had a slim and pleasing form, but she was a modest maid who held herself with pride. Since her blessed mother had died giving birth to her, she kept a little cottage tidy and welcoming for her aging father. She did as she was bid and expected to, and no-one ever heard a complaint pass through those perfectly formed lips. Though she was seen from time to time, walking the cliffs in the evenings and staring out over the sea as if she wished to grow wings and fly away, to a land of her own choosing."

He paused here, holding out a hand for her. She gave him a questioning look, but he only smiled and grasping her hand, drew her towards the large windows, which showed their almost perfect surroundings drenched in the downpour, and somehow, sunlight still peeked through, here and there. Drawing her close and leaning her head on his shoulder, he continued:

"No-one knew what was in her heart, or if they did, they couldn't say. Perhaps this is something she couldn't properly recognize herself. But still, she kept the cottage, cared for her father and walked the cliffs, alone. Always, alone."

She made a small sound which might have been of pity, or sympathy, he didn't ask. Turning her around, her back towards him, he rested his chin on her head and they both gazed out at the wet beauty in front of them. 

"Did she stay alone all her life, then?" she asked, quietly.

He softly kissed her hair and inhaled the scent, rubbing his cheek against the softness. As he spoke, a silent stream of sunlight shimmered through the rain, through the window, to pool quietly on the floor at their feet.

"One day, when she was taking flowers to the grave of her mother, she met a man - or what she thought was a man. He was tall and straight, with thick, dark hair and eyes as blue as the skies above her. By her name he called her, and his voice was like music in her head and set her heart dancing. And in a flash like lightening, they fell in love over her mother's grave with the breeze sighing through the tall grass like faeries whispering."

She smiled up at him, her dimples giving her a cherubic air. "Love at first sight, huh? God, I love that romantic in you."

He grinned back at her and squeezed her playfully in his arms so that she yelped. "Be quiet and let me speak."

"It was not a simple matter of a maid and a man taking hands and joining lives, for he was Aidan, the faerie prince, who lived in the silver palace under the hill where her cottage sat. She feared a spell, and doubted his heart, her own, and the love they felt. The more her heart yearned for him, the more she doubted, for she had been taught to beware of the faeries and wherever they gathered. 

Even so one night, when the moon was round and full, Aidan lured Gwen from the cottage and onto his great winged horse, to fly with her over the land and the sea and show her the wonders he would give her if only she would pledge herself to him. His heart was hers, and all he had, he would give to her. 

It happened that her father saw his young Gwen swirl out of the sky on the silver winged horse and the faerie prince behind her. In his fear and lack of understanding, he thought only to save her from the spell he was sure she was under. So he forbade her to meet the prince again, and to ensure her safety, he betrothed her to a steady young man, who would provide for her in a fair manner. Gwen, a maid with great respect for her father, dutifully tucked her heart away, stopped walking the cliffs, and prepared to be wed to the one her father had chosen.


How many of you want to know more? =P

Sunday, May 17, 2009

Panic.

It took over her mind, her breathing. Suffocating, can't breathe, can't breathe, can't breathe. Coated the back of her throat with the metallic taste of fear. And blood. Her eyes darted, here then there, then back again. Oh, God, oh, GOD. Her thoughts circled frantically around and around and around and WILD, to get out, escape, inhale, breathe, GOD THINK! Her nails scraped the walls, drew blood, left torn bits of flesh and nail and smears of the dark, dark red on the blank, gray wall. Prison. Her prison. Only in her mind? She didn't know. She couldn't understand. Captive, prisoner, hostage, inmate. Get out, get out...

... Can't. Just can't. A moan escapes her blue-tinged, dry lips. Her breath heaves. Rasps, the labored breathing of a cornered animal. Defenseless, hopeless, God, so small. She drags herself to the corner of her prison and rests her head back against the wall. A tear slides down her white, white cheek. Hopeless, hopeless. Can't get out. Imprisoned, forever and ever and ever... 

... Only in her mind?

Friday, May 15, 2009

Chaye, Anyone?

I've been given the Housewives' Highest Stamp of Approval on my chaye-making abilities. And tons of dua'aein "bus jaldi se apne ghar chali jaye."
Yes, that is my ultimate goal in life. Of course.

Thursday, May 14, 2009

What Just Happened?

We're giving a farewell to the graduating class. No, wait, let me re-phrase. MY CLASS was planning on giving a farewell and I was definitely not getting involved/attending. At all. The last time I did, it was HORRIBLE. So, this morning I decided wtf, it won't even be fun, what's the point, right?

No. Not right. We were having a class discussion of where we wanted to throw the party and I offered ONE suggestion. ONE teeny little suggestion. And suddenly, I'm organizing the whole thing (of course, with help but main work = mine), giving suggestions every-which-way, convincing the staff to do things our way, planning, planning, planning. I have absolutely no idea how I got here. I have to get 72 wine bottles - empty of course - lol, 5 sashes, catering deals (I NEED DISCOUNTS!!!), and blah, blah.

So I plan on making this slide show with pictures of the graduating class. I don't want to use PowerPoint, its way too limited. I need suggestions, can you tell me a good software I can easily download (the CD-ROM doesn't work) and make a slide show from? Help, help. And girls, please give ideas for fun titles we can give to the seniors. 

<3

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Masterpiece.

Sid: Can you please ask Ali to write a poem for me, I need it for Literature class.

*Ali writes very intellectual poem*

Sid: Tell him to think like a 17-year-old Grammarian and then write one.

The Masterpiece that emerged in about 5 seconds:

The year begins every year
In that it never fails
But please, oh this new year
Hand me some hot males


A designer purse or two would not go amiss
And is the male is all that is required
Know this right now
I shall not for long remain a 'miss'


But please i'll ask you in ways rather polite
When a few of you begin to show your burden upon me

Let not the numerics come to light

Do this, you know you have the desire to comply
Hurry now, time is scarce, i have to go to gunsmoke cafe

Before taking digital pictures
I have makeup to apply

Reality Check.

I'm sorta sick of pretending I like you, and that we're friends. You get?

Tangled Up In You.

You're my world
The shelter from the rain
You're the pills
That take away my pain
You're the light
That helps me find my way
You're the words
When I have nothing to say

And in this world
Where nothing else is true
Here I am
Still tangled up in you
I'm still tangled up in you
Still tangled up in you

You're the fire
That warms me when i'm cold
You're the hand I have to hold as I grow old
You're the shore
When I am lost at sea
You're the only thing
That I like about me

And in this world
Where nothing else is true
Here I am
Still tangled up in you
I'm still tangled up in you

How long has it been
Since this storyline began
And I hope it never ends
And goes like this forever

In this world
Where nothing else is true
Here I am
Still tangled up in you
Tangled up in you
I'm still tangled up in you
Still tangled up in you

-Staind - Tangled Up In You

Monday, May 11, 2009

Frequency

Resonate with me
Let me be your tuning fork
Let me be that splash of icy cold water on a lazy summer morning
After a night of shared passion

Drown with me
Let me be that thick cloud of lazy haze that compounds our souls as we exhale
And fades into the air leaving nothing but the faintest scent that lingers
Refusing to fade any further

Live with me
A million lifetimes between the phases where time exists
On planets with asymmetric moons tastefully littered with
Broken axes of every variable conquered

Walk with me
In circles concentric, getting no closer to home until we find the final verse
Of the eternal song that was discovered in mid-chorus and shifts forever between
Crescendo and De-crescendo, falsetto and verbrato.

-Ali Ghafoor.

Sunday, May 10, 2009

Tell Me.

Tell me, why is it that people who are Pakistani are tortured the most in Pakistan, compared to any other fucking country? Tell me, what do they do when all the while they were living outside of Pakistan, they were taught that this was their country, their people, their land, and ironically, it is here that they are going through hell? Tell me, how can they live here, then?

A friend of mine went to this trip with her University. Normal field trip, nice Pakistani people, nice Pakistan. The bus caught fire, her feet burnt, her friend's arm burnt, the food burnt, she got a nose-bleed, she can't fucking walk. She didnt really mind all that, maybe it was all chance, coincidence, right? This is her, verbatim:

Eenust says:
No, it's okay.
Eenust says:
I just hate 80% Pakistani people's reaction to such situations.
Eenust says:
They're low-life fuckers.

Maryam says:
which would be?

Eenust says:
Aag lagi hui hai wahan. Loot macha di.
Eenust says:
They stole the food boxes. Many were dancing and hooting.
Eenust says:
Some just walked away and started smoking.
Eenust says:
My friend pulled me up because my feet were burnt.
Eenust says:
He tried to put cold bottles on it.
Eenust says:
God. I hate these people.

She said she was always accepted where she lived before, despite the color of her skin. Here, she's considered an outcast, despite the color of her skin. Fucking, hateable, stupid people. Passive-aggressive shits. Why anyone would want to live here is beyond me. Not those who've been living here since forever and are used to it. Those who come here with the hope of being in their 'own land'.

Eenust says:
Mashallah. Mujhe nakseer aa rehi thi.
Eenust says:
I needed ice cold water to put on my nose.
Eenust says:
A guy knows I needed it. He drinks all of it and goes, "Oh. Sorry."

...I don't even know what to say to her. Goddammit, what'll happen if we're all this hell-bent on destroying ourselves and everyone around us, no matter what the cost? Can't we even fucking HELP people who need our help?

Happy Mother's Day.

Happy Mother's Day, to all you beautiful Mommys out there, especially my own and Sadia =)

<3

Saturday, May 9, 2009

Heartness.


I know you,

I walked with you Once Upon A Dream,

I know you,

The gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam...


Pyaray jaanwar, the Prince and Aurora walk off hand in hand <3

09-05-09

So, how many of you went to the play this evening?

Friday, May 8, 2009

YAYZERS!

Ali G, you are a genius. Template: credits go to Ali G, Tweaking: Maryam R X)

Comments?

I lovelovelovelovelove this!

BAH!

I give up. I can't find a good enough template that I can actually say is better than the last one. Help? PLEASE?!









Thursday, May 7, 2009

Alfalah.







I miss bank. I really, really miss it. I miss the constant deadlines, the get-the-client-satisfaction-or-you-die atmosphere, I miss being worked like a slave (literally).







I miss lusting after this car in the bank's parking lot, every morning:
I miss sneaking out when we screwed up and were supposed to skip lunch:

Yep, we did the sneaking in rickshaws =)








I miss the constant fights over Noor Bhai's yummy coffees in the kitchen, where we all hid from the seniors (read merciless slave-drivers), till we were sort of banned unless we kept our mouths shut. Oh, and the constant bitching =P





I miss all the Biryani Express and Copper Kettle and Nando's and sastay naan chanay/haleem. I REALLY miss the after-work hours, those were AWESOME:




















And most of all, leaving poor incompetent S to manage the front desk while we sat at Sonia's desk and swigged Cola's (bought with Baby Giant's money, ofcourse =D)








Tons of other missable things but these were some of the most nostalgic. <3

Mein Kya Kahun?

We're in the car, on our way back from Liberty. She was astounded that 'bangles' exist in Liberty. I was astounded at her being astounded. Then she asked me ''Ye jo larkiyan sleeveless mein adhi nangi phir rahi hain, un ko Taliban se darr nai lagta?''
All I could do was pray really hard THATWEGETHOMEREALFASTCAUSEIAIN'TGONNABEABLETOHOLDOUTMUCHLONGER. Yeah.

Feedback Pliss.

So, I'm thinking of changing the template. Again. But I love the header so =(
Help. Should Maryam or should Maryam not, that is the question.

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

Horror.

I have a horrible, horrible feeling that I'm going to have to bring her to the play. My one night that I'd been looking forward to, without her. 

Kasana, sorry but my life is way too emo aj kal. Yehi parhna paray ga tumhe.

Tu Hi Re

Tu hi re, tu hi re, tere bina mein kaise jiyon
Aaja re, aaja re, yun hi tarpaa nahin mujh ko
Jaan re, jaan re, in saanson mein bus jaa tu
Chand re, chand re, ajaa dil ki zameen pe tu

Chaahat hai agr, aakay mujh se mil ja tu
Ya phir aisa kar, dharti se mila day mujh ko
Tu hi re, tu hi re, tere bina mein kaise jiyon
Aaja re, aaja re, yun hi tarpaa nahin mujh ko


I can't get this song out of my head. I LOVE it.
<3

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Aaaaaaaaaaaand We're Back.

Anushay. says:
bcuz ryma is going to be DRESSED up in chiny clothes

Maryam says:
'anuzhay' ko meray se door rakhna i might just hit her

Anushay. says:
hahahaa

Anushay. says:
shiny*

Maryam says:
han mujhe pata hai

Anushay. says:
dude

Maryam says:
last time bhi ajeeb he thay

Anushay. says:
huh last time whn?

Maryam says:
last time play pe

Maryam says:
tum kahan thi?

Anushay. says:
stage pe?

Maryam says:
OH HAN

Maryam says:
OMG

Maryam says:
IM SO STUPID

Maryam says:
HAHAHAHAHA

Anushay. says:
HAHAHHAHAHA

Maryam says:
HAHAHAHA BLOG

Maryam says:
BLOG

Anushay. says:
VIP treatment na bhoolein plis **(H)**

Maryam says:
AFCOURSE not

Dramay

Anushay:

is -censored- ko to mein HITLER woman lagti hun.

Maryam:

Laughs like a loon. Like the loon that she is, more specifically. *snort*

=]

She smiled, humming softly to herself, swaying gently in front of the mirror. Long, patient strokes of the hairbrush through her long, lovely, raven locks. 

things my heart used to know
things it yearns to remember

A dreamy smile on her lips, she looked over at the tiny pink cot shaped like a basket, the mobile dangling pretty charms circling gently over it. A tiny beautiful life, a miracle that came from inside of her, the minuscule heart that beat inside the miracle's minuscule chest. Her lips curved more as she took in the little, perfectly formed features. She walked over to the cot and placed a finger on the velvet soft cheek, stroking lovingly. Precious, precious, precious.

I will find my way
I will sacrifice
Till the blinding day
When I see your eyes
Now I'm living
In your afterglow...

She lightly trailed her fingers over her child's eyes. Touched the rosebud mouth, marvelling at the tiny perfection. 

And thanked God every day for this miniature miracle, that had enriched her life ever-so-much-more. 

Sunday, May 3, 2009

Smile, Meri Jaan.

She floated to consciousness slowly, still drifting on the edges of her wonderful, wonderful dream. Yawning, she turned her head to the side and saw his, just on the edge of her pillow... Not a dream, after all. She smiled at the face that tugged at her heart, even in sleep; the hollows and planes of his beloved face softened in slumber, the long lashes she secretly envied, still and unmoving. He mumbled a little. She leaned over and lightly touched her mouth to his, to somehow quiet the demons that disturbed him even in his world of dreams. A wealth of love rose and swamped her whole being, making her feel as if she'd captured sparkles of sunlight within her.

"I would give all the world and more, just so the last thing in the depths of the night, before my eyes close for sleep, and the first thing in the morning, as soon as they open, all I see is you. Every night, every morning. My love, my heart, my hope, my strength. My being."

He opened his eyes and she jerked back a little, embarrassed by the intensity of her emotion, that she hadn't intended for him to witness. He smiled, his eyes smiling with his mouth. She smiled back and relaxed, cuddling against him. He drew her close.

He held his whole world in his arms.

M for Murder.

And M for Maryam. And M for Maryam who can cheerfully murder. Its been 6 days and I bet there are 60 more I have to tolerate. I'm getting advice and being cautioned and lectured at every 2 hours. I'd hoped to take it in stride but I resent everything I have to give up just because -censored-. I snap, sometimes. I can't help it. There is a limit to everything, you realize? I'm reaching mine. Very quickly. God help you if you make me cross it.

Oh and if Maryam talks in English, her cousin considers that very rude. And if Maryam is performing tests on her sister, whom she's chosen as her subject, and the test requires ABSOLUTE PRIVACY AND NO DISTRACTIONS and her pea-brained cousin takes that to mean 'laugh and talk and scream and make as much noise as you can', and Maryam politely asks her to getthefuckout (of course I didn't actually say that) then Maryam is -oh horror of all horrors!- HAYE SO VARY ROOD.

I'm going to go eat blackcurrant jelly now. And work on Community Psychology. You guys realize your comments actually make me feel better? Yeah, not so subtle, I am =P

Saturday, May 2, 2009

Scotch Eggs,

What's the REAL, ORIGINAL recipe for scotch eggs? There are thousands of variations. Asal waali kaunsi hai?

Friday, May 1, 2009

Soch Ke Liyay Khana

I wasn't aware that there is a HUGE difference between 'Jinn' and 'Ghost'. Are you?