I had been reading some older writings that although I want to push here, this effort to digitize older creations cannot be achieved without the mentioning of those people that defined life. With time some people become too irrelevant to not even think about, let alone write anything about them. I faced the dilemma when left with only two possible solutions. Either to drop those posts completely which mention those now-unworthy folks. Or to give them alternative names. Both of these solutions have an advantage and a bigger disadvantage. Dropping the posts kills the purpose of the idea in the first place. And if I give every person a new name, it will become very hard to remember who became who. Besides, it slows down the thought process bringing it to a snail pace. That is when a very remarkable solution lit up like a beacon. Doppelgängers. Everyone who left a mark on life in any way bears resemblance to someone popular like a movie star. Thankfully most, if not all of the exes have a doppelgänger. One has such a striking similarity to a pornstar. The problem looks solved already. An adult performer who bore a resemblance with an ex took her own life in the December of 2017. Many have already forgotten her. Now, whenever I see that ex, the face of that dead performer pops up. I guess it is not easy to be a doppelgänger. Whom do you bear resemblance to?
June 2nd, 2018 / 6:51 PM
These days of Ramadan are riddled with hot and unbearably long days. These fasts are not for the faint of the heart. In this life, I don’t have the perks to take an entire week off. Still, I am VERY happy with this path of life instead of the other side. After waking up, I either have too little energy to write anything down. I feel falling short on finishing the books and graphic novels that I started. This is my 301st post that I intended to publish. I spent last week reading old parchments and collecting them all in a workflow to push them here. Internet is where I hope they outlive my biological life and their paper life. Some scribbles have become irrelevant. Some are too personal. Some are broken. Some trigger regrets. This is the price of nostalgia. It brings not only the happy feelings. This isn’t the first post that I have pushed today. Work is happening since the first of Ramadan. I hope to get this done soon. I want to place my diaries back in the locker as soon as I can. But as I look back into the older days, a time machine states to work. Three weeks of collecting notes and newspapers (for visual additions along posts) while having long summer fasts is no easy task. Reading old time is reliving in a way. You can live the same day for more than once, only if it is better documented.
The subject of paranormal and Ghosts have fascinated people from across cultures. I have come across a new graphic novel. That is the reason why a lot of recent commercially successful movies and dramas are of the genre of paranormal and unexplained. Events of 1947 have divided a bigger piece of land But from my perspective I think that the border is separating people who have different beliefs about ghosts. Sadly the more closer you are towards that border the more possibility of getting contaminated from the beliefs of the opposite side exist. Just look at the people from across the border. A lot of them believe that if somebody is wrongfully murdered and their Aatma comes to take revenge. I had this question since I was a child whose mind was Somewhat damaged because of these beliefs shown in the movies. So if an Atma comes and murders a man then the Aatma of that man will continue to do the same and eventually everybody on this planet would die. That is one way of saying how the human race will perish and frankly it is a very boring possibility which I cannot believe even if I was living on the opposite side of the border. But all the great religions of the world have talked about the extension of life beyond the moment everybody believes as death. There are many books and debate about what life is and what that actually means. Nobody from the other side has ever called back and told anybody about what and how the other side looks like. Besides it is this obscurity of truth which takes the hold of fascination of man and pushes him to write about the subject of peculiar. almost one third of the books that I have read revolve around the topics of mystery and paranormal. Many people don’t know that there is a dedicated streaming service for horror movies only. just like Netflix, we have the matchless service called shudder. it is no less than a blessing for somebody who likes horror and paranormal. religion is something majority of people living in Pakistan are very sentimental about. a lot of people have been killed just because their religious beliefs were different.And religion talks about the world hereafter and death which is why our writers and philosophers have polluted the stories they have created with the beliefs they follow. a Pakistani writer always brings someone from the mosque to clear A Haunted House. Who would a Christian man bring in Philippines if a house is Haunted?Just like humans are divided into groups religions and cultures, so are the ghost and all the hideous monsters who appear in our books and movies. When I heard about the graphic novel Djinn, I was a little sceptical because I was raised in a country seeing people fight over language, colour and religion and I thought that the ghost mentioned in the book would be as extremist as the people who created them. Created by Jean Dufaux, Djinn is a story of a girl, Kim who travels to Istanbul in search of answers about her grandmother’s shadowy past. She soon learns that during the declining days of the Ottoman Empire, her grandmother was a harem girl, and the favorite of the Sultan. As she finds more evidence, the mystery thickens and she finds herself dealing with crooked characters and determined paramours in bookshops, baths, and bedchambers all over the ancient city.
ڈاؤ کے دنوں میں ایک کتاب کے بارے میں پڑھا. کوئی پروفیسر صاحب ہیں جنہیں بچپن سے تصویریں بنانے کا شوق تھا لیکن کچھ وجوہات کی بنا پر زندگی نے ان کو یہ کام کرنے نہیں دیا مگر پچھلے کچھ سال سے ان کے پاس کچھ لوگ آئے جو ان پروفیسر صاحب کو مختلف فوبیا کے بارے میں بتاتے جن سے جو بچپن سے دوچار ہیں. پروفیسر صاحب نے ایک تصویر بنائی . بعد میں بہت سی ایسی تصویریں وجود میں آئیں جو ان لوگوں کے فوبیا کو بیان کرتی ہیں آئیڈیا تو بہت بے مثال تھا اس تصویریں بنانے والے پروفیسر کا ٹمبلر اکاونٹ بھی ہے جہاں پر وہ بہت عرصے سے ان تصویروں کو شائع کرتے آ رہے ہیں. پہلی بار میں نے بھی ان کو ٹمبلر پر ہی دریافت کیا. ایک روز مجھے پتہ چلا کہ انہوں نے بہت ساری اچھی تصویروں کو جمع کر کے ایک کتاب بناڈالی. بدقسمتی کہ وہ کتاب پاکستان میں میسر نہیں. تو مجھے وہ کتاب درآمد کرنی پڑی لیکن اس کے لیے چھ ہفتے لگے. صبر کرنے مشکل تھا تو میں نے آئی ٹیونز سے وہ کتاب ڈاؤنلوڈ کرلی. اس بات کو اب چار برس گزر چکے ہیں مجھے پھر سے پتہ چلا کہ پروفیسر نے اپنی کتاب کا دوسرا حصہ شائع کر دیا. میں جانتا ہوں کہ مزید چھ ہفتے انتظار میرے بس کا روگ نہیں. میں نے کچھ گھنٹے پہلے وہ کتاب ڈاؤنلوڈ کرلی اور اب وہ کتاب ختم ہونے کو ہے .لیکن آس پاس شور بہت ہے اور کسی بھی کتاب کو ختم کرنے کے لیے دوچیزیں درکار ہیں ایک خاموشی اور دوسرا وہ کتاب خود. اچھا ہے جب سے نئی جگہ نوکری شروع ہوئی ہے میں 300 کتابیں کھا چکا ہوں جن میں سے اڑتالیس 2018 کی ہیں. جس کو موقع ملے وہ یہ کتاب ضرور پڑھے. کیا پتا کوئی ایسا خوف آپ کے اندر بھی پل رہا ہوں جس سے آپ اب تک نہیں جانتے
March 9th, 2018 / 06:11 PM
دل کو توفیق زیاں ہو تو غزل ہوتی ہے زہر غم بادہ چکاں ہو تو غزل ہوتی ہے
فکر تپ تپ کے نکھرتی رہے کندن کی طرح آگ سینے کی جواں ہو تو غزل ہوتی ہے
دھیمی دھیمی سی نوا سلسلہ جنبان ابد پردۂ جاں میں نہاں ہو تو غزل ہوتی ہے
دھڑکنیں صورت الفاظ بکھرتی جائیں دل معانی کی زباں ہو تو غزل ہوتی ہے
آنچ مٹی کے کھلونوں کی طرح ملتی جائے ذہن خوابوں سے تپاں ہو تو غزل ہوتی ہے
روزن ماہ سے پچھلے پہر اک شوخ لقا جانب دل نگراں ہو تو غزل ہوتی ہے
روح شب اپنی اداؤں کی تب و تاب لیے خلوت آرائے بیاں ہو تو غزل ہوتی ہے
ایک سیال کسک جادہ کشائے تخلیق فن کی نبضوں میں رواں ہو تو غزل ہوتی ہے
تجربے درد کی شبنم میں نہائیں حرمتؔ گل فشاں شعلۂ جاں ہو تو غزل ہوتی ہے حرمت الااکرام
Nokia had a profound effect on me, especially in my younger years. It was not my first phone but it remained with me like a caring friend who had seen many ups and many downs. From one city to another and from one life to the next, Nokia stayed along. There is something very nostalgic about it. Like perfumes and songs, it takes me back in time. In short, I recently became younger again, fell in love again and started living in the same places I practically cannot. There is no price of nostalgia. There never will be. (On getting a 3310 and a Nokia 8)
Art and crime. It is true that over the years my interests have cooled down. Every colour fades which is why we all become silent and more life accepting as we grow old. But it would be a crime itself if someone gives up his core interests that define him. I know friend who is a poet. She is a lot of other things too including a patriot a daughter and a doctor etc., But one defining element of your life is the ability God bestow upon her of being a poet. I tried to create equally balancing lines but I failed. That experiment made me realise that not everybody is equally God gifted. Life has made a few robbers and a few policemen. I guess that is a balance of the universe. If there is somebody who can write then there must be somebody who can draw. If there is somebody who can create music then there must be someone who can make the words wear that music. She is one such person. Poetry close out of her. Her words will surely outlive her life. But what if one day she decides that she wants to stop poetry because she feels old and faded. Now that would be a crime. Over years we all develop interests that come and go. But a few interests are the ones that develop us. And we take so dedicated steps in achieving our liking towards those interests that an observer can easily pinpoint our dedication for the interest. A few of the still surviving interests that I have is drawing. Yes it’s also a fact that I don’t upload any creation in the public domain now as much as I used to in the past. But it does not mean that I have stopped doing anything that gives me happiness drawing and photography being the two of them. My last post was about newspapers and the crime section they have. Last night and inspiration hit me very strong and hard. I came across a news which is giving me an itch to create something. In fact as I type this the rough outline of that inspiration is born on paper. People who keep their eyes and ears open for learning knowledge and inspiration and not just for stalking someone and finding out if somebody has created a Facebook or Twitter page are the people who can pass on what they have learnt. But I guess for mothers who have nothing better to do at home after changing the diapers of the kids it is easy to stalk the men they flirted with before either their child wakes up or their husband returns from work. There must be one such section in the newspapers too.
One of the few pages I never fail to skip in every newspaper are the crimes and court section. My daily start of the day involve five newspapers that I read. No I am not a journalist And every time I have tried to find why I am still addicted to this old medium of news in the age of Twitter especially when it’s polluted by many classless desis. Twitter was one of my most favourite social spaces but with time I have only found it to be declining and declining. The old screenshots that I have from earlier days show that Twitter used to have a better population which created a better space. It was reflected in the hashtags of that time. But stop whatever you are doing and just look at the hashtags from Pakistan now. The quality has deteriorated to a point that you would not want to waste your creative energy flowing through the sewage called Twitter. After stopping my presence and all these social places I am able to finish more than 50 books every year for the last 3 years in a row. But even after all this debacle my love for newspapers still exist. But instead of going for the more traditional medium of paper I am able to read 5 of them online and 3 as their digital editions. All these newspapers a section that I never failed to read is the crime and courts section. The people who commit crimes are humans. Everyone is quick enough to judge them and even prosecute them to the point where the are bound to spend times of your life behind bars. But nobody raises the question of wire crime was done in the first place. Every cube of news from even the remotest parts of the country that bring such news of crime always knock some portions of my mind and make me ask myself why a person who did that did so in the first place? It is very hard to look inside the heart and mind of a person. That is the reason why we judge others based on their actions and based on what they say and if the two things don’t converge, enable the person under our judgement as unworthy. Our words and our actions are just reflections of our mind and our feelings and our intentions. But sometimes no matter how much gold someone has buried inside them what the other see just me and knife made out of gold which was used to murder someone. It is not one person who gets murdered but a part of the social fabric is torn each and every time someone breaks the law. From my earliest memories to the current ones whenever I have read such crime and Courts news I feel as nothing is changed over decades. Man is as Savage as he was many years ago. Would you guarantee that a person who has been to a university or has any sort of higher formal education not capable of any crime or not capable of breaking any law? I was thinking about this when I saw a person in a very expensive car and very expensive suit driving his car in the wrong direction. He might have been a driver but I know that he was not because he is the head of the department where I work. I would suggest everyone to start reading this one section of any newspaper they can get on a daily basis. Trust me it is an inspiration to write fiction. You need truths to tell a lie. And you need to create a lie to tell a few truths.
I got to know about a Hafiz who fell in love with a girl. The whole story got published in the news and like everybody else I also got to know about the details of the story from the news sources. Hafiz sahab is the son of the caretaker of the mosque who is also serving as the local Imam leading the prayers 5 times a day. No parent never tries to make their children a monster or a criminal. I believe that somewhere down the line they fell short in raising their child as a responsible human which is why even after memorizing the Holy Quran he was not able to get any formal education and works as a welder. He will not be the first person or the last person who make anybody very repulsive towards religion because a lot of the people act as the contractors of religion or if I be honest act like special humans of God sent to train other humans. These are the ones whose behaviour in society has only caused damage to others. The Hafiz Sahab fell in love with a girl who was already engaged to one of her cousins. But because of his bad company, Hafiz was able to acquire weapons which he used to scare the family of the girl and also the one she was engaged to. I am very sure that the father of this Hafiz Sahab would have come to know about the actions of his son from the neighborhood prior to this episode. But a time comes in the life of every man when he is not able to impose his beliefs on his children. The same happened as the news sources have detailed that one evening the Hafiz Sahab lost his patience and went to attack the family of the girl after the evening prayer. Coincidently the father of the girl was not at home but his luck was out when he arrived at home at the same moment and was also shot dead by the Hafiz Sahab, the perfect man of religion. In this incident 5 lives were lost including that girl’s whom Hafiz claimed to love. This is not the first or the last time when somebody had committed such a heinous crime feeding to his emotions and taking the law into their own hands. The criminal is already on the run and the family of a girl comprising of 5 junior brothers and an aunt have moved with a poor uncle who is a taxi driver. This is another example when people fail to understand what love actually is. Many times young men become obsessed with ephemeral attractions for a woman and assume this emotion to be love. Another woman lost her life because of love but who will remember her tomorrow. Many will not even remember her even today. Sassi and Heer were lucky in one matter, their name is still remembered. Here she didn’t even love that man of God as most huffaz claim themselves to be. This is not out of repulsion but a fact that he is not the first Hafiz I scorn. Don’t think that evil can never cross the walls of a madrassa. Many evil are born there, some out of sodomy.
Not all things fade with time. Red is still the color I like. But some things have already faded. Time is a reality that corrodes us all with no discrimination. It is that day of the year again. And perhaps the same me too. But one thing I am so sure of not the same is the heart. It took me time to talk some sense to it. But then it did learn. And like all learnings this learning had a price. The price of color. I guess some faded red is way better than all red. There is one thing I would still love to add about love however. It’s an emotion that can never die. It is an emotion that has the beauty of being as eternal and as timeless as God himself. One would easily label love as a mistake when one would be not mature enough to understand what love itself is or married with a child to take care of already. It takes a time to understand the beauty and pleasure hidden in pain .Don’t be one of them who confuse love and relationships. They are are two different words and they are two different feelings. What you have seen ending can never be love. What you feel you have mastered is relationships even if that relation be of a husband or of a wife. I have not sent any gifts to anyone this year. Maybe I have grown old. Maybe I have learnt from my relationships. Whatever the case be I have not stopped loving. That is the dilemma of love. You cannot start it. You cannot end it. You got to live with that.