Monday, June 29, 2009

Thursday, June 25, 2009


Just gave my final viva around an hour ago. Yes, exams finished. Strangely, I'm not at all happy or excited, even though I'll be entering my last year of Honors. Don't get me wrong, I can't wait to get out of this place but... Na shukri hun mein. Lol.

Monday, June 22, 2009

Whispering Madness.

Her fingers, they traced patterns in the zig-zag path of the falling raindrops on her window, beckoned by gravity to fall to the ground. Her heart, it beat out a tattoo of grief, with every beat, ripping itself to shreds. Her mind, it whirled and scrambled, crazed and frightened, calling up the rising fear inside of her. Her hands, they fell to the blade she'd kept beside her since that day, that one day.

It hurt to think of it, oh how it hurt.

Her fingers, they trembled, her eyes, they stared, then darted, panicked, panicked.

Despair etched in every crevice, every line and hollow in her old, old face.

A moan, brief but heart-rending.

A sob, of endless grieving.

Then the pain. White-hot, searing.

The young man glanced back at his charge, the woman he was supposed to care for. He couldn't care less about her. A small sound escaped her, but otherwise she sat dull and lifeless, in the chair she'd been sitting in for two days, in the clothes she'd been wearing for twice as long. Moved, she hadn't, in 2 days. He wondered for a fleeting moment, what went on in her crazed mind, what made her make those tiny sounds every once in a while, detached from reality. Sometimes, she scared him. Sometimes. He snorted. Her hands and feet were tied, she couldn't possibly harm him. But her eyes. The way they watched him. Her eyes. Frightening, with creatures living in them. Her eyes.

Madness, they called it. Crazy, they called her.

A whisper, a whisper of the madness sliding over your skin, sliding up the back of your neck, down to tickle the base of your spine.

Wait. Just wait.



Me: Is it true, that hugging relaxes your parasympathetic nervous system?

Sid: Yeah, I think so. Cause, you know, when people are upset and all, you hug them and they feel better... don't they?

Me: I guess. I should give out more hugs to people.


Me: Yeah, they'd probably either think I'm retarded or start calling me gay.

Sid: Definitely the latter.

Haan Jee.

MyLifeIsDesi - FMS #1667


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Sunday, June 21, 2009

Bad Dreams.

That's just it. Bad dreams. Nightmares. Not that they don't go away, they do. But when they come back... they're worse than before. Much, much worse.

Yes, I know what helps. I can make them go away.

Except that they come back.


Thursday, June 18, 2009

Wednesday, June 17, 2009


Oh, great. Now I lost a follower. *sigh*

I still have four exams to go.

Mere total subjects 4 hain. And I'm giving 7 exams.


Tuesday, June 16, 2009


I'm tired. Of everything. For the past few months, its as if I'm living someone else's life. This emo, weird, dissatisfied feeling did not exist in my life and now its all there is. And not just with me. For some reason, almost every person in my immediate family is... unhappy in some way. Being strong, constantly wiping away tears and consoling everyone and just being there for them... Its eating away at me now. I'm exhausted, I really am. I do not cry easily. I never have. I'm very emotional, yes, but I rarely cry. And these days... you know when everything just grows and grows and grows inside you and you have to let it out or you feel like you'll burst... I feel like that. Every single second, of every single day. I. Need. To. Let. This. Out. Blogging doesn't really help, but its the only way I have right now. I'm teetering at the edge right now. Of a very dangerous edge.

Someone tell me something happy.

Monday, June 15, 2009


Don't wanna study, don't wanna study, don't, don't, don't. The paper shouldn't have been postponed. I have the most difficult exam of the semester tomorrow. Difficult because there's no clear course outline or material, you have to wing it. And if the teacher doesn't like your winging... you're a broken bird.

Haha, I'm reaching up to new levels of lameness =P

Sunday, June 14, 2009


The light went around 12:40 a.m. Its still not back. What. The. Hell. Is. Going. On?!

Saturday, June 13, 2009

I'm Whining, Again.

Yesterday morning, I came home exhausted from my exam because I hadn't been getting enough sleep... obviously. And I hadn't eaten in over 12 hours. So no, I was not in a very good mood BUT since I had another paper the next day (today), I had to start studying... soon. Which did not improve my mood. And the fact that this particular exam consisted of two years worth of Statistics didn't exactly help. So, I'm studying and trying to cram things into my over-crammed brain (nope, wasn't working) and spent an hour or two on one topic, alone. Which, I found out later, the teacher had cancelled and hadn't bothered telling any of us but a friend found out by accident when she called up the nice teacher to ask something. Imagine my 'joy'.

Then, I moved on to other topics and found out I'd forgotten everything. Freaking out, Khan and I spend hours on the phone and decide to just let it go and to hell with everything and blah, blah. This was around... 9. P.M. I played with Moosa for a while, decided I'd go to sleep early around 10 p.m. cause that's when the light comes back on. 10 p.m., I go to my room, happily thinking of a nice night's sleep since I had to get up by 4 a.m.

Turns out, I couldn't be more wrong. 11 p.m., I start getting calls. "PAPER CANCEL H GYA HAI!" Me: "WHAT? WHAT? THAT'S NOT POSSIBLE!" And then starts the whole story. The whole class is calling up each other and our teachers and our seniors, and frantically trying to find out whether its true or not. Okay, so we find out its true, and everyone goes back to bed, relieved that they won't have to get up in the wee hours. Right?

Wrong. "Paper cancel nai hua." An hour later, "No, wait, its cancelled." This went on till 1 a.m. Someone SMSed everyone that she'd talked to the head and the paper was going through, it wasn't cancelled. Nobody knows what to do. Everyone sleeps around 2 and gets up at 5. Study, study, study, don't think of anything else, study. Around 7, we start getting calls again. "The paper's cancelled, the gate-keeper's not letting anyone in, its confirmed". Khan and I go anyway, to check things out. And the paper's finally postponed till Monday.

Severe lack of sleep, a horribly aching back, I can't even go back to sleep, the light's going off-schedule, Khan is acting like a paranoid nut, I just got done with cooking dinner since family's coming over.

All I want to do is watch Private Practice and eat chocolate and pizza and lasagne and spaghetti with meatballs and OMG chicken Italian casserole and... yeah. You get the drift.

I don't want to take the rest of the papers now =(

Friday, June 12, 2009


Tinkle tinkle lillal shtar
How I bunder what sho are

-Hussain Khan, age almost 2.

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Wanna Stalk Me?

All of these are ABSOLUTELY true. Qasam se. =D

Okay, all of the girls who read this, I'm sure you're more than familiar with almost all of these. My sister and I came up with these last night, recalling all the stalkers (good, bad, hilarious, plain stupid, leecher) and just cracked up. Where do these people come from?!

So, anyway. Starting off with when they call and you politely ask 'Aap ko number kahan se mila?'
The brilliant responses:

"Allah Miyan ne dia"
"Wahi nazil hui thi"
"Khwaab mein aya tha"
"Forward email mein aya tha"
"Sarrak (road) pe parra hua tha, meine utha liya"
"Geo ki headlines/breaking news mein dikha rahe thay"
"Ek banda aap ka numer phela raha hai to meine be le liya"

And then when you tell them to please STOP calling,

"AAP roz phone karti hain, meine to nai kiya"
"AAP ki missed call ai thi"
"AAP ki he dost ne diya tha"

Matlab, wtf?!

Acha, then when you ask them WHY they called up a random number,

"Aap ne number bechna hai?"
"I am so alone"
"Mein depressed hun"
"Mein boht akela hun, aap mujh se dosti kar lein mera sab dukh chala jaye ga"

Then when you ask them who they are, the sheer brilliance of their response:

"Aap ka dost"
"Pehchana nai?! Kitni buri ho!"
"Abhi to phone pe baat hui thi aap se"
"Mujhe bhul gai ho?"
"Jis ko number deti ho us ko yaad b rakha karo"
" I AM PIA CAPTAIN" Then the same guy 2 days later,

Most of them start off with a text like: "Yo...kami/adnan/akmal/mani/kamran...kaisa hai yar...kidhar gayab hai chiknay...milna kisi din jigger...chal call to kar mujhe"

Yeah, they text you, pretending they don't know that they've deliberately SMSed a random number: "Ye to mere dost ka tha... acha call to uthao..." Ugh. Seriously.

You tell them, very nicely, to please go bother someone else, to get a life, or very politely tell them to fuck off. The replies:

"Wot the fuck iz your prob, huh?"
"okz, okz, vaise very imp baat...plz pick phone...plz, plz. Very imp"
"Why? Are you scared of getting raped or some shit?" (yeah boy, I'm so damn scared of SMS rape)
2 minutes later...
"Hi" (you guessed it, the same guy, jis ko pehle itni ghairat charhi thi)
"I will cut myself" 2 minutes later... "I am cutting myself" 2 more minutes later... "I have cut myself"

Some guy called up my sister and went in a VERY feminine voice "Helloowwww, helllooowwww... *huge sigh* stupid"

We literally fell down laughing. Then there was this guy who used to call me up and went like:

"Helloo... hellloooooooooooo... baat nai karni? Acha gana suno, bara acha hai *music plays*"

He did that every single night. He called, and whenever I picked up, he started playing random songs.

Purple Whisk.

Do you guys have any idea how hard it is to find a decent template?! Ugh. Yawar, Marina, if you don't like this one... then its your job to find me a nice one (please?!). Yes.

Okay? Okay.

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Cobalt Blue.

Okay, before the criticism starts rolling in, I still have lots of tweaking to do so bear with this for just a day. Exam tomorrow so... Yeah. Have to go sleep. Anyway, wish me luck!


I forgot. I'm majorly addicted to the scent of Apple sheesha *haye memories*
And. Kenneth Cole.

Monday, June 8, 2009

Druggie Maryam.

I'm studying different drugs and their effects. Especially, inhalants and designer drugs. Inahalants, I think, I'm addicted to. No, really. Lol. And designer drugs, me thinks, I could very easily become addicted to.

Glue ki smell. Paint ki smell. Thinner, nailpolish remover, sumadbond (or however you spell it), finis, petrol, hairspray, markers, Vicks, and so on. Tauba. Mein to waqai druggie hun.

You know the worst part about having Psychology as your major? Every disorder you study, especially the mental ones, it seems like you have it. Depression, manic episodes, mild schizophrenia, personality disorders, psychophysiological ones, UGH. Seriously. Its enough to drive anyone nuts. Not to mention the eating and sleep disorders, the latter of which is VERY interesting.

Seems to me, we're all co-morbid examples.

Not Good.

I am so addicted to Facebook games. SO addicted, its not even funny. I started studying and then I discovered Restaurant City. And there went my noble study plans.

Pray for me. That's about the only way I'll pass this semester.


Cure for pretty much everything bad, aren't you?


Sunday, June 7, 2009

Iraani Billi.

Anyone want a Persian kitty? Purty hai. Haan jee.



I really hope you feel better. I know that right now, nothing I say or do will help. I just hope it gets better for you. I hope things work out. However you want them to.


Friday, June 5, 2009

Meri Zindagi Mazay Se Bharpoor Hai Jee.

Haan jee.

Some random person came online by the wonderfully eloquent screen-name of 'm da one'. Our fascinating conversation was as follows:

Maryam says:

who is this

m da one....... says:

human being

Maryam says:

how awesome. what a wonderful response. never would have guessed.

m da one....... says:



Then Bazqa and I go slightly insane n MSN. Finals, you understand.

Maryam: Bus jee, pyar he pyar.

Azqa: mera dil aap ke aur aap ka dil mere jism mein dharkta hai.

Maryam: dhak dhak. Dhak dhak.

Azqa: Dhuaan urtaa rahaaaa

Maryam: fish fish

Azqa: duck duck

Maryam: khota khoti

Azqa: londa londi

Maryam: pyara pyari

Azqa: bheens bheensa?

Maryam: koja koji, mona azqi, sidu kaaki, anushay kaali hahahahahahaha

Azqa: hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!! omg, this is hilarious!

Back To The Start.

6th semester finals. Start 10th June. All I've done lately is play games on my mobile for hours on end, facebook insanely, bug people through MSN, texts and phonecalls and various other things. Including cleaning up my room. In a nutshell, doing everything but studying. Yes, I realize this happens to me every single time during every single examination. To kya karun mein. I can't HELP it.

All I want to do is meet people I want to meet. All of them. Except my family. They come over almost every weekend. Pehle he mein parhti nai upar se ye apne badtameez bachay le kar ajatay hain. KYA KARUN MEIN?!

All of my friends who don't live in Lahore should move here. Bus. Marina, Jatoi, Neeli. Sun lo. Bus Kasana achi hai. Wo yahan hai. Hum milein ge.

Yay <3

Thursday, June 4, 2009

Sane? I Think Not.

Sid and I having one of our endless funny/sarcastic/bitchy gossip sessions.

Me: -censored chotay bhai ka naam- ki pronunciation boht behtar ho gai hai.

Her: NAI. Aj Mama ko kehta hai "Chumistrry ki class nai li".

Me: WHAT?! Jaan ke bola ho ga.

Her: Acha? Bula ke puch le.

I call chota bhai. We shall label him 'H'.
I stare at her and say "Oh-kay".

Me: Aj tumne kaunsi classes nai li?

Apparently, this was too much for him to understand and he stared and then shook his head and went "VUT?!"

I politely ask again. He stares and repeats his 'VUT?!'.

Sid, exasperated, rolls her eyes and literally shouts the question at him. He can't figure out why the fuck we care, and much confusion ensues. Finally we get him to understand the what, why, how (much lying to cover up the real reason) and he says the word in question. Or the pronunciation of.

Sid looks smugly at me as soon as he goes out the door thinking we're (poor little us) very retarded.

Sid: Dekha?!

Me: Kya? Sahi to bola tha.


Me: Pagal ho? Sahi bol ke gaya hai!

Sid: Your hearing is BLINDED by love!


Me, very quietly: ...deafened by love.


much snorting and wild laughter ensues.

Wednesday, June 3, 2009


Fear scraped the back of her throat, hysteria bubbling to get out. Run, run, run. Run as fast as you can. Run or you’ll get caught. Run or you die. Run. A slight moan escaped her. Hands and feet shaking, eyes wild, mind numbed with fright, adrenaline and emotion. Deep, heaving pants. She ran, her feet slapping on the unyielding cement, pupils dilating. Prayers ran through her thoughts, maybe the one thing that could still help her. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe she couldn't be saved. Maybe she was meant to die his way. Her breath warred its way out of her lungs, her feet pushing on despite her exhaustion. Run. Run. Maybe you can run your way out of this.

Or maybe… you can’t.

Run” whispered a sly voice in her ear. “Run for we will catch you”.

The chase makes it sweeter, darling.



So, I've been wondering. What title should I get? Yeah, from you guys =P
Honesty required, no matter how insulting.
Okay FINE, I lied.

Seriously, though. What title would you 'bestow' upon yours truly?

Tuesday, June 2, 2009



She stares down curiously at the blood that drips from the knife she holds in her hand. drip, drip. She turns it over and over and over again. Glinting metal, a bloody red. Blood. She laughs as she sees the man lying still and unmoving at her feet. Hm. This just got curiouser and curiouser. Softly, she giggles. Alice in Wonderland. Hums softly. She pokes at the body with her toe. Leans down and stares into the face, eyes wide open and frozen with a look of eternal fear. She smiles, delighted. Starts to sing softly, still staring into the dead, dead face. Brushes the hair back, gets blood on her fingers. She brings it up to the light, squinting a little. And lets out a laugh. Another. And another, till the knife plunges into her own body and doesn't stop, doesn't stop, doesn't stop...


Monday, June 1, 2009


Wanna know a secret? This was my first EVER time performing on-stage. I have stage-fright. I was one quivering mass of fear up there. Turns out people thought I was really confident and didn't even show a hint of nerves. Go figure.

I used to be insanely shy. I'd probably have scored a zero if someone measured my confidence level. It was nil, nada, zip, didn't exist. Its been about four years that I've been giving presentations in my class and still my hands and feet shake, my heartbeat gets so loud, I can't hear myself speak, I break out in a cold sweat and go ice-cold all over. People think I'm lying when I tell them all that. Even my closest friends. Wtf?!

Let me tell you, it seriously pisses you off when your friends snort, roll their eyes and refuse to believe you when you admit your weaknesses. Hudd hai, waise.

Ah well. At least my acting skills are phenomenal *chokes on laughter*.