The Spell

We all want to relive special moments of life. Like playing a favorite song on YouTube again and again and then again. The magic of past and memories gave birth to the Taj Mahal, countless poems and ghazals and music. Nostalgia is no less than magic. Like a lover left with the bangles of his beloved, our memories keep giving us the kick. Mind can play its share of tricks but none is like the spell of nostalgia.

Aamir Ali Bilal

(December 4th, 2009 / 7:09 PM / Karachi)


Numbers fascinate me. And I believe in numbers. A good number with repeating digits is easy to memorize. That’s one plus. For a number, I probed Faisalabad, Gujranwala, Vehari, Rawalpindi, Shakargarh, Mianwali, Hyderabad and finally Multan to get a number. The good old days of Lahore. It was some effort back then. I got what I was seeking. I paid some thousand rupees for it. After years I am very happy that I got that number. When someone praises it, I feel all the money that I paid for it and seeking it is returned. After this number, I did get new numbers but they all stayed ephemeral. From a few days to a few months at max, all the numbers ended up dead but this number. Life shifted to a new place and I had to change my number or at least get a new number again for some days until the shadows behind it disappeared. But to get a new home, I wanted that to be at least as good as the previous one. I knew it would demand a little extraordinary effort again. But as technology has stepped up or I learnt a few new ways, this was not as wild and scattered. I finally got another number. I like it. I am using it more than the older one. The old number gives me a strange nostalgia and pleasure. The new number is more like a teenage soul breathed into a grownup man. From from time to time, I turn on an old disposable Nokia phone just to check which of my ex is having an insomnia. 

Aamir Bilal