The Serious Tale

'Never fret over an OSPE afterwards, only before”

Great words said by a great person, my elder sister. :D

The panic I experienced while diving for my cell phone as it fell into a pool of mud, or while running for the last free sandwich, or even while running away from the Dissection Hall for my precious life...(rewind and imagine all in slow motion :| )...was nothing as compared to the panic that enjoyed a roller coaster ride to and fro in my G.I.T. ONE DAY BEFORE MY ANATOMY OSPE.

For the sake of a few minutes that we would spend in front of scary specimens, trying to make wild guesses, we dedicated an entire day to exploring the world of Anatomy. From morning to night, “Have you had something to eat?”, “NO”... “Do you want a sweater?”, “NO”... “Have you brushed your teeth?”... “NO...wait, what?”

The night brought no peace with itself. I jerked around in bed, finally deciding that I wanted to revise the gross part again. The atlas seemed to be playing games with me, hiding the very labeling I wanted to check. Before I finally found sleep in a corner of my eye, I wished for a miraculous photographic memory.

It was like a dream. The voices around me were fading into thin air with every minute, a sense of derealization was slowly taking over, carrying me in its heavenly arms and shielding my eyes from the sharp golden daylight that illuminated half of my face. I was staring right into the Sun. My body was numb. I reminded myself that my theory exam hadn't gone quite okay. It was do or die for me. And as a matter of fact, I already felt like a corpse, feelingless and expressionless, staring blankly through transparency into my scary thoughts.

I was the third one to go. The bell rang and my mind instinctively pushed me forwards to the first specimen. Then the second, the third. It was a queer feeling, this was quite like the first OSPE of my life. Yet, the feeling of derealization was new. The feeling of walking over a cotton-cloud and life suddenly losing track of time...two minutes were two hours when I had to wait to go to the next specimen, and the same was two seconds when I was still struggling at a station. Life had turned into an unskilled wizard, swishing its wand this way and that, not knowing what the consequences were to be. Life was rash-driving and not knowing where it's going, depending ninety nine percent on sheer luck. The wheel was out of hand. That wheel, a Force had taken in its command. And I was a puppet to my luck.

I came out gasping from the same door I had entered through. However, this was not the end of suffering. Level Two was still to go. It started after a one hour torture of sitting silently on the provided stools. My butt was frozen and I shifted about awkwardly in my seat, hoping to get some warm blood throbbing. The girl beside me turned to give me a skeptical look. I cheesed her a big, toothy smile. I couldn't understand how everyone could be so stiff, so silent, so patient a few minutes before an exam, I had imagined two dozens of fat chickens puck-pucking and flapping about in a pen haphazardly. THAT was my idea of a scene before an Anatomy OSPE. Here, even crickets were silent. Even coughing was going to get attention. The ironic part is, I always have the urge to cough when the air is still and silent. Oh, destiny.

The bell rang. It was a race of memory and time. And so far, time seemed to be winning. I would just stare into the microscope, wondering whether I'd seen something like that before, trying to recognize the ever so tiny spots as some kind of epithelium. I mean, SERIOUSLY?? I wanted to turn the objectives to power x40. What IS wrong with x40? I think they just don't want the poor kids to pass. Evil, despicable paper-pattern-setters.

One minute, TRRING. Another minute, TRRING. Come on people! Throw away the microscopes and LET'S PLAY MUSICAL CHAIRS. I'd be luckier at that than guessing the names of the pink brides in sixty seconds.

My long slide was Cerebellum...I couldn't really think of a suitable viva related to it. I asked a few girls around. By the time a short, sophisticated examiner entered the room in a crisp, royal blue formal suiting, my heart was pumping blood like a maniac. Every hair of his beard was in perfect place, and classy silk rested in the breast pocket of his American style coat. Nevertheless, he was a poker face. As he came to me, with the same glassy expression that he'd put up for the previous students, I decided to face him boldly.

“So what is cerebellum?” He asked in a low, smooth tone.

Damn! I thought. I didn't see THAT coming.

“Ugh...” I gazed at him, he gazed back. I gazed at him, he gazed back, I gazed...okay, enough :-/ . So I slowly started to tell him all I knew. “It is a part of the CNS...” and I decided that was all I knew. The awkward gazing game started again. He smiled at last, and asked me an easier question and let me go.

Whew...that was close. I ran back to the hostel, deciding I couldn't breathe until I'd get back.

Yes, there is truly a Force. A Force that had made the utmost strict examiner smile. A Force that had made me guess the names of at least half of the pink brides correctly. A Force that was running through my veins and writing my answers for me. I had felt the presence of the Present, the might of the Almighty, the power of the Powerful. And I decided that there was God above, and I ran my arms under a gush of water to perform abolution for a prayer of thanks.

Jail-break

Headed towards the Heavenly Green Door...flung shoes off a tired pair of feet without opening the laces, threw the lab-coat into the top shelf in the messy cupboard, and collapsed on the hard mattress.

That's what everybody was like when they got back after their last exam...it seemed like breathing again after being bailed out of jail after eighty years of sentence.

Stomach growled.
Ow. Now I have to get up off my lazy ass to get my self some food...Food, come to me. Whoa, that thing is walking. Nice.
I looked at the refrigerator, and to my surprise it opened with a slight creak. I moved my eyes to Rak's costly mango juice, which happened to hop out and poured itself in a grand glass. My meal was ready. I opened my mouth so each of my favorite dishes would jump in, and I munched and munched until....I finally choked.

"Wake up, idiot!"
My weary eyes shot open. "Oh, holy...thanks for ruining a nice day." I mumbled under my breath.
"Get dressed! We're going to hang out somewhere in Loserville." I saw a blurry image of Rak hanging upside down from the ceiling.
"Loserville?" I raised a brow.
"We don't have money, so we can all we can afford is Loserville." We both giggled. I suddenly made a sulky face.
"What..."
"I didn't bring any clothes even good enough for Loserville." I told her.
She said she'd lend me her's.

It was a nice shade of brown matched with pink. Five girls with wavy, dark hair decided to visit a classy mall even if their pockets were empty.

There was much to look at. So much to see and absorb. We were lost in the city lights, out of our prison after eighty years. As the sun set, the lights became dreamier. Neon signs danced and mesmerized us. We spent hours commenting on Maria B.'s new collection, comparing designer work with small scale industrial output, quality and quantity, and most of all, how much we were always going to cherish our time together.
We had tons of frozen yogurt for our complaining tummies.
After, we visited more shops, turning shoes, hats and coats down secretly because of the prices but beaming at the shop keepers with a slight thank you, pretending we didn't really have time to actually stand there and choose.
One attendee actually thought we were interested in buying their shirts, and she even put a dress off "waiting" just so we would buy it. Just like our attitude in other stores, we beamed, saying thank you with a slight bow and turning the offer down because of "time", saying "PHEWWW" right as we got out.

Subway was our last spot. We munched and munched and munched on our sandwiches until we knew we would grow out of the dresses we wore.

We returned empty handed of course, with nothing that has mass or takes space, but in our minds we had taken two thousand retarded pictures and saved them in our memories.
Fun didn't quite end. We talked and watched movies till after midnight. Still, we went to bed thinking this wasn't enough...

Because after all, we were all born to party, but forced to study.

The Murder

During a fight violent screams, swears and curses pitch the air. People use guns and sticks.

I had none. In the air silence screamed. My friend shivered. A frown had hooked up on her face as fright took over. Yes, the idea of two helpless girls locked up in a room with a merciless shadow gives goosebumps. All I had to offend the enemy was a broom, the only thing I could find in the haste. No matter how puny a broom may sound like, it was a mark of strength for me at the time, when nothing else was available.

Again...two young girls locked up in a room with a scary stranger...slithering its way from one bed to another...the creeps that frozen smile would give...two young girls on the verge of wounding themselves badly....with swollen throats and tightened facial muscles...eyes bulging out, bruises on their backs...a lifeless color haunting their bodies...it could be, in short, a MURDER.

The guard outside had retreated from the fight with the stranger. Now it was just the two of us...and of course the horrendous shadow.

We circled around like in a boxing ring. Our scared wimps and moans were the cheering crowd, and the stranger's sudden leaps were the ringing bells. "time out!" they would say...and then each brave move I'd make with my broom to defend myself would be a break to the "three, two, one..."

I attempted several unsuccessful shots at the advancing shadow...but what good could a broom do? The stranger smirked at my helpless hit and trial. I was suddenly breathless. It was suffocating in the locked room. I looked around at the four walls that grew closer and closer to us. Would we ever be saved? It was either the stranger or the phobia that would kill us both. Teyni pulled at the sleeve of my shirt. I tried to give her some of my fake courage by nodding and shaking myself back up, clearing my throat. A crooked smile was enough to unveil my secret.

The circling continued, added to it was the hiding, ducking, jumping and rarely bending back parallel to the ground dramatically in slow motion. :D

The stranger became impatient with two utterly hyperactive and disrespectful hostages. It had never seen frightened people in so much action before. Therefore, not foreseeing the circumstances, the stranger dived towards me.
A shriek escaped my dry mouth as I blindly shot a sixer at the offender. Teyni leaped up, her hand smacking in my face and making me shriek louder, and this once, multiple times in a row. This made her to scream in return. The pin-drop silence turned into a clatter. Teyni threw her precious scarf in the direction of the "six" I had made...just as an innocent attempt to save me if the shadow survived.

Suddenly dead silence took over. Teyni was shaking. I was frozen to death...the offender had vanished. At last the heat of the very recent incidents melted me, and I plucked courage to peek beneath the scarf...something wriggled underneath. Teyni and I screamed together. :D

*girls*

The lizard had let go of its tail in surrender. I sighed as relief crossed my mind at last. We unlatched the door and threw the corpse out with our dissection gloves on. :P

To celebrate our first official murder in hostel, we ordered burgers and had a little dance party in the room. As we munched on the crispy meal, I grinned. When Teyni asked me about it, I exclaimed, "I must admit we looked like the Flinstones back then!"

Zombieland

Home: a warm word with so many memories and so much joy, where people are pure inside out unlike the world outside. The world outside is Zombieland, with their hair and teeth growing, to frighten you and then to eat you up, respectively. :D There are only two ways you can keep the Zombies out of your way: to shoot them...or to show them the middle finger.

As I don't have license to kill, I've been doing the latter lately, but the Zombies have become immune to getting abused so often. Let me describe the Zombies. The Zombies are two-headed, one to show and the REAL one to hide. The one to show has normal-sized teeth along with other very human features. The other is GREEN and MEAN with vampire canines and a pretty greasy tongue; the evil Mojo-Jojo brain is always at work! Some Zombies are the leaders, who tell other Zombies what to do. The other Zombies listen and work accordingly, because their brain present in the “head to hide” never developed fully, so they can't make strategies themselves and are foolish enough to be used by the Leader Zombies for their personal benefit. The Leader Zombies think that getting back at humans for their mistakes makes them a winner, and they laugh about it. Had they known that humans “know better” and that the Zombies “aren't worth it”, they would realize that they're just wasting the little time they have in this life, the time that humans are spending munching on chocolate, drinking cola, listening to music and writing a blog like I am. :D

Sometimes the Zombies change their identities to pose as humans to get back at them. They think they're so clever that humans can't realize WHAT KIND they truly are. They have lots and lots of fun fooling around with a fake identity that they forget what it's bringing to them. Because in famous legends when they laugh too hard they forget about themselves in the end. What a tragedy.

*sad violin* =P

There is a time when the Zombies realize what other Zombies are actually doing, and then they fight among themselves. That is the time when humans sit back with a big bowl of cheesy popcorn and WATCH. It's a cold war, like that between Zombies and humans, so the target thinks they're so cool until they're shot. :D

Zombies can never be united. You know why? Because after all, they are ZOMBIES. Had they been humans, would they have had the sense of unity and would have known the value of staying together as ONE.

Don't be Zombie.

Be human.

The Laptop Buzz: Part I

Our favorite time-pass in college was taking trips to the I.T. department, asking the coordinators twenty times a day about the hoped-for free laptops. With shine in our eyes we would head to their office, but the Grim would follow us everywhere, sucking all the joy and hope out like dementers. At last we came to believe that we would never be lucky enough to run our fingers on a free personal computer, or punch in digital notes with the triumph of a winner. =(  Not everybody was being rewarded with a laptop, only students with high educational achievements were honored so. As we would walk out of the coordinators' office, the Grim would laugh at us mockingly.

At last the blue moon shone, emerging from within a mob of retreating shadows. The date for the distribution of laptops in our city came nearer and nearer, and the adrenaline level rose and rose, until the excitement erupted in finding "someone who wants a red laptop in exchange of a black one?". :D

...but what happened in "The Moment Between Cause and Effect"? Look thus...

The day was hot. :/ It was three in the evening. I was sitting under the blessed fan in the college cafeteria, munching on crushed ice that I got for free in a disposable glass. I was waiting for the first bus to start so I could push my way through the imaginary crowd in my mind and glide in like Superman. :D

Temperatures rising, I saw students crowding on the road like colorful tides, like a mixture of shades on a palette or hues splashing in the air to celebrate Holi. The heat was frustrating, but the hope of a fruitful tomorrow kept everyone in high spirits.

The buses swallowed these tides in a matter of minutes, and headed in style to a temporary stop: Divisional Public School...but I was still stuck in college. The "superman" in me wasn't feeling so fly after all. I decided to wait for the last bus, in hope that I wouldn't have to be transported all the way with the side of my face pressed against the glass window. :D
Result: I still had to be transported all the way with the side of my face pressed against the glass window. =/
As soon as i hopped in (one of the last ones to get into the bus), a senior squeezed her way through and settled right beside me; I was already in a tight spot, right in front of the door. Her fitting in practically pushed me to a side with a bump, and a speed breaker proved to be further helpful by slapping the side of my face against the glass window. :D It was a horrible nightmare come true.

We breathed again only when we walked into the school, headed to the cafeteria and bought chilled fizzy drinks. Wiping the sweat off my temple, I walked around exploring the building, found the auditorium, and soon was disappointed to know half of our college had already discovered it. Suffocation forced me out again, and I stalked the shadows of tall trees around, seeking haven under their thick canopies till the big college crowd would move again. At last a lot of chaos among the teachers ended and we walked the rest of the way to Iqbal Stadium...the Final Destination. :D

All Luck Needs is a Prayer

20/05/2012. Sunday this weekend was a boring one, but only until the evening, when Hania, Teyni and r.a.k. returned to Faisalabad and broke an exciting news. They blabbed and chattered about a short-film competition that was going to be held soon in Lahore. The Snipers had explained everything concerning the event last Saturday. So the three pests had thought the story out on their way home that weekend.

With every little detailed conveyed to the rest of us, it was at last decided that the video was going to be made.

For the main role, we needed someone who was both a good singer and had an aptitude to give a star performance. We also needed a child with the same qualities. Then a person fit to act as a typical father was to be looked for. After a lot of thinking, overlooking and rejection, we at last came to choose the perfect people for these characters.

21/05/2012. Monday. A hundred eyes looked for a fat guy…and a skinny one. Where were the two? We had only five days for making the video before Saturday, the dead-line for submission of our creation. Now, due to their unfortunate absence, we were left with four. However, the next day, both the fat guy and the skinny guy were talked into the concept of the video.

That night, as I pulled a shirt out to wear the next day, I realized it was all too black. A scarf. I need a good scarf, I thought to myself. But where do I get it? I scanned my wardrobe. I pictured in my mind a black and white checkered scarf that would go perfectly with the shirt. Nobody had it. I asked all accessible seniors, but no one owned a checkered scarf. Disappointed, I tried to accept the dress as incomplete as it was. As I got in bed to sleep, a thought suddenly woke me up. I knew who had a black and white checkered scarf.

23/05/2012. Wednesday morning. Warrior got me the scarf. The camera was focused and the cast was in action. We pleaded the worker in charge of the auditorium to unlock it for the shooting.  He succumbed to our stubbornness at long last.

The stage lights were perfectly positioned for shooting the “concert” (it sounds funny because all we had was ten people to act as the audience to wave their hands about in the air wildly as Faiq, the skinny guy, performed without any instruments, music and microphone arrangements  :P ).

As we saw Faiq arrive for the first scene of the video, his casual clothes spoiled the enthusiasm for a moment. We tried to convince him to borrow a more “superstar”-like shirt from a hostilite friend.

“Like what exactly?” Faiq asked us, confused.

“Dark.” said Hania, just as I said “bright”. This confused him even more.  :D

“What do you guys really want, dark or bright?”

“Dark.” said Hania, again as I suggested “bright”.  =D

“Dark and bright.” Hania suddenly summarized. Faiq blinked helplessly.

Avoiding a time-taking task, he at last bluntly asked for Warrior’s scarf that rested on my shoulders like a beautiful, patterned snake. I made a face. I had struggled to get a matching scarf for my shirt and giving it away as soon as I had worn it was no justice. Understanding the situation, I reluctantly handed it to him for his role. As the camera rolled, I realized that a mere Arabian scarf had changed his whole get-up,  accessorizing and adding to his otherwise informal dressing. I was pleased with myself. :D Had I not forced Warrior to find the scarf, what would have become of the main character of our video?

We were on our toes for the next couple of days, struggling to complete the five-minute video. It was a tough time for everyone. A little disappointment followed our decision of expecting perfect acting from a boy who worked in our hostel: his face was frozen in a permanent grin. He kept laughing in the scene where his father died, and in the short time that we had, seven takes of the same scene irritated Warrior so much that at last he begged for mercy.

“How many times are y’all giving me a heart attack?” he asked.

“Just one more time!” would be our answer. :D

24/05/2012. Thursday evening. The uncle in charge of Aazam did not allow us to take him away for the video again, and only when we made a hundred promises to bring him back to hostel in time, did he finally agree. Again, all he did was smile…

The major problem we were to face was the editing. Video-making was a first experience for all of us. We tried downloading a couple of editing programs, but the load shedding was forcing us to surrender. The sun set with such misery, that we found no hope in the night that followed. Warrior had talked to an experienced senior, but concluded without any luck. It was midnight and the editing program was downloading at snail’s speed. We were all freaking out. We had just one day for shooting a couple of more scenes and editing. Was it possible for first-timers like us? We begged for mercy as the power was lost for the millionth time in the day. Fate seemed to be against us. The download stopped. The heat was frustrating. I tried calling friends, who could help, but suddenly there occurred a network problem and the call would not connect. So many “catastrophes” in one night ruined all the enthusiasm we had started the project with. We looked at our anatomy book with remorse, thinking: struggle for nothing. Hania broke the silence with another sad remark.

“Just think what we would’ve been doing right now if we hadn’t taken this impossible responsibility on our shoulders.”

“We would’ve been studying anatomy for our sub-stage, munching on snacks and chatting.” R.a.k. commented. We hadn’t studied a single word.

It was three in the morning and still no sign of power. I gave up. R.a.k. fell asleep. I lay down beside her.

25/05/2012. Friday. I was so hopeless, that I refused to shoot any more scenes. However, when r.a.k. told me Gohar had downloaded an editor successfully, I realized the value of hope. When we’d all gone to sleep last night, Gohar and Aymi had taken another chance. And that chance had worked. I relaxed in the afternoon as r.a.k., Teyni and Hania struggled with shooting the last scenes in college. I was preparing myself for the editing that was coming my way like a spinning cricket-ball. In the evening, Gohar told me some basics of the editing program. The rest was easy to work out. Gohar’s mind was full of ideas like always. She showed me an impressive sample of some editing she’d done to test the program, and that motivation pushed me through the whole night. Teyni sat beside me for a pretty long time, choosing a variety of modifications, r.a.k. and Hania were there to give suggestions to improve the edited piece. Everyone was all eyes and all ears till their stamina could support them. After everyone was sleeping soundly, Ayesha I. came and sat beside me. Though she had brought her B.D. along, she helped me through the rest of the video. When I shut the p.c. down, it was six in the morning. My mind was saturated. I updated Warrior with necessary information and collapsed in bed like an eighty years old Einstein.

26/05/2012. Saturday noon. I woke up to screen my eyes against the unexpectedly bright sunlight pouring in through the window. I looked at the clock. Oh my… SUB-STAGE! I had made up my mind last night that I won’t be giving this viva because I didn’t know the anterior mediastinum from the middle mediastinum, and dyspnea from dysphonea. My sketch book wasn’t complete either, but that guilty feeling of leaving a test was hammering in my head. I got up, got dressed, and ran to college. I asked about for a sketch book. Teyni gave me hers. In fifteen minutes, she put short facts in my head. With the confidence of a winner, I sat down in the chair the teacher offered me. He asked me for my anatomy card, but I had no idea I was supposed to bring it. He then told me to show him my sketch book.

“There you go…my sketchbook.” I smiled and put the diagrams in front of him. He, instead of Going through the diagrams, flipped the book back to the first page. My confidence shattered and my heart sank in my mediastinal cavity. It seemed as if he freaked out to see some other roll number on the book instead of my own. However, I wasn’t wrong, and he really did freak out. He called another girl who would tell him my right name and roll number. He (like any typical teacher) shared the situation with another teacher who was also taking viva in the same office. I happened to be his student. Luckily, he took my side. That luck also owes me gratitude for bunking dissection and getting to prepare a presentation as detention, which had impressed my teacher such a great deal, that now he was forced to say kind words in my favor even when I was wrong.

My viva started. None of my answers were incorrect. In the end, he threw at me a ball that was hard to play. I surrendered. Hence he found a chance to say “you haven’t studied at all, I’m still going to pass you, but you haven’t studied.”

After college, I sat down again with the editing program, showing everyone the work and asking for the flaws. R.a.k. and I struggled hard for five whole hours, staring at the screen with tired eyes. At long last, our video was completed. It was almost eight on the clock, and I realized I hadn’t even changed out of my uniform since I’d come back from college.

We had completed Mission Impossible in a mere week, and if there’s nothing more I learned, I at least realized that all luck needs is a prayer.

The Little Things Give You Away

Everyone is judgmental. Some go for the first sight, some wait for time to bring them the answers. Yet, there is a blind side that everyone ignores, which is why perception matters. Some see the glass half full of water, and others as half empty. An apprehensive mind can never think positive. Sometimes you just feel like climbing the highest mountain, and then merely jumping down. That is how spirits rise and fall.
The world inside of a woman is wild. No matter how much she looks like she is bathed in the summer-sun, her soul is wet through. When expectations are not lived up to, a woman simply changes her perception. All transitions are painful. Disappointment always means she is building walls around herself. Her screams are silent.
Expressions always suppress the fear of risking the truth. They clear misunderstandings and give space for reaction. They bring the storm to an end. Only when the tides crash, do they submit to gravity. Silence only rises the tides above the sea, and ego higher than self-respect.
Express yourself, be an open book. Crystal clarity in a person's character is what's beautiful about them.

Breathing In...

The week had depressed me to torturing heights, from books to social burden. Circumstances had at last taught me that the truth isn't always crystal clear. People are judgmental and the most obvious explanation is never correct...apologies do not make up for a broken heart and puzzles cannot be completed until you find the last piece.

As I settled in the bus to head home, my sister called.
"Do you mind a little drive-through directly after we pick you up?" she asked keenly.
"Oh, of course not..." I assured her, leaving half my thoughts unspoken.
I don't mind this at all. I actually need this. In fact, we can go shopping. Shopping is my medication.
I shut my eyes.

Time passed like a snail. The two hours to Lahore never seemed to end. I asked the Lord how much more he was going to make me suffer before some rest. The answer came to me as distraction. Hence I looked out the window, soothing my eyes with green and gold...

...I hopped in the car as soon as it arrived in the parking. My little sister hugged me as a greeting and gave me a self-made card. I was too tired to open it, and slid it in my pocket. We reached the mall, and I dashed inside to heave a long, deep sigh of relief.
Clothes! Lots of clothes and a fresh splash of color! Flashy lights and large air-conditioners! This is divine! I hugged my luck with a word of thanks. My sister eyed me with a little pity all the time I feasted my eyes upon the designer dresses, shoes and accessories. She could see how desperate I was to be free, and now that caged monster was breaking the chains. With every dress I tried on, and every shoe I slipped my feet in, I felt better. The hurt seemed to get less. So much for an ordinary girl.

As soon as I saw the Sweet Factory, I ran to get my bags full... jelly, marshmallow, sugar belts and what not.  I grabbed a few bars of chocolates from a shelf, and was out with the heavy bill and millions of shopping bags, the mall's hideous logo gazing like a dozen eyes at the world.

I unlocked the car, stuffing everything on the back-seat. before I could settle myself in the car, the air brought about some sweet music. I turned around to see a man play the flute.

The flute...always magnetic. Magical. The music melted in my ears like butter, and my heart melted likewise. My dad was calling out to me, but I think I couldn't hear him. I walked to the music. The player was sitting in the corridor, leaning to a pillar. His eyes were shut tight, a frown crossed his face every now and then as the music rose and fell.

The flute...I sat down in front of him, leaning to the opposite pillar, listening with attention. A light breeze blew my hair away from my face. My brows descended and my eyes sought darkness to feel the music leave a pleasant impact on my mind. The agony rose to its peak, the heart sinking, the pain erupting from the crater: my eyes.

The music stopped abruptly. I looked around. The man was gone. He had left my soul dancing like a maniac, celebrating the freedom, the escape from all the sorrow I had piled up inside me.

I shuffled my hand inside my pockets, suddenly remembering my little sister's card. I opened it.

"Dear Mina,
I miss you when you go. I hug you to be happy. I wish I could hug you everyday.
Hamayal."

For once, the spelling mistakes she made were to be forgiven. I looked at the cover of the card. She had drawn two stick-figure girls holding hands, and two BIG, RED hearts.

The Randomness and the Skill

"Sajni"...The song is always new when you hear it in his voice. And yes, Awais Butt adds the magic-music all along.

A song, dedicated to PMC mates...by Kamran Hussain Hashmi

The Family Charade

Fast forward one day at my house and all you’ll hear is a high pitch chirrup. :D

It’s us, talking, arguing and wailing. From “what’s for breakfast today?” to “I don’t want wallpaper in my room!”; from “Hey! Stop singing this song!” to “Don’t hang out with EVERYONE in your class.”…and yes, I end up being grounded.

The clash of ideas is inevitable, and so are the consequences that follow (like I told you, my being grounded). :/

However, one thing bonds us all together as a family, and that is my dad’s old car. :D

Charade, sparkling like gold some twenty years ago, as my dad knelt down on his knees beside it to propose to my mom. (=

Charade, as they drove across the green fields together, looking forward to seeing life as a welcoming host.

Charade, as my elder sister and I would fight for the front seat after school, and would end up both squeezed together, one of us a serious obstacle for my dad as he tried to change gears. However, I would always wonder why the goddamn gear had to dance about for the car to move forward.

Charade, when a third baby arrived, who was another volunteer for the front seat. =/ I remember how we once annoyed mom to an extent she told us she’d have to put the front seat up for auction if its demand doesn’t fall. As children, that actually shut us up. :D

However, our golden charade was pushed to a side in our hearts when a brand new white car with flashy lights took its place in the main garage. =( It’s golden paint faded, and the windscreen was blinded by a thick layer of dust…the ignorance was heartbreaking.

Charade entered our lives again with a new boost of energy…a boost that sent the car smashing right into the fence. :D Yes, my elder sister was testing the race. My sweet father was encouraging her as she gave her first try to starting a car.

There came a phase of another boost of energy, this time smashing the car right into the gate of the garage: I was learning the gears. :D

Then came a time when mom realized that Charade needs to be thrown away…it was quite true, for now when someone would start the car, the whole car would tremble, and at a speed-breaker it would seem like the body of the car would break open in all directions. :D

My dad refused, I refused. We both care about the memories Charade has added “gold” to. They are priceless, so is my parents’ Charade, my sisters’ Charade, OUR Charade, because this is not just another car, but this is the Family Charade. =)

Teyni Saved Me

At university level, you can never judge your test paper to be good or bad. The moment I came out of the examination hall after giving in my "upper-limb-stage" answer sheet, I knew I'd done the best I could and now deciding the mercy was all up to dear God! Then, I'd forgotten all about it...

For one whole week, Aymi had been praying for the result to arrive. We'd all scream and wail when she'd say that, and everyone used to refuse to say "Amen". However, we all knew that the snake had to shed it's skin some day, and it finally it did last Wednesday. It was a nerd I overheard, whispering to her friend, and the word passed around in the Physiology lecture hall. By the time the whispers caught my ears, I was caught by Sir's vigilant eyes, shuffling about uncomfortably in my place, and was sent OUT OF THE CLASS. =D I obeyed his orders with a screwed face.

The humiliation of being sent OUT OF THE CLASS had blown my mind so, that I forgot all about the stage result. I appeased my fiery soul with some Japanese music. =(

It was when I saw the first years storm OUT OF THE CLASS to the Anatomy department, that I remembered I had once taken an "upper-limb-stage", and the whispers suddenly made a lot of sense. (dumb me :D) I joined the storm like another spec of dust uniting with the swirling wind.

Girls pushed and shoved one another. In the background, I stood still with an eyebrow raised: wow, these guys are really keen to know their marks. Nerds!
I looked to my right, r.a.k. had her fingers crossed at her heart, eyes shut, as Hania read out her marks. Suddenly they both screamed. "We both passed! Yay!" All around, I saw girls hug one another, some just turning away with a heavy heart. Both extremes depressed me.

Where did I stand?

I plucked courage to make my way through the suffocating crowd, as near to the notice board as I possibly could: the wild mob kept pushing me back like there was a ten-minutes sale about to start. :D

Where was my roll number? Where was it? Oh, it's right there. So they didn't miss me out, eh? I saw, slowly.
Two figures...that added up to...sixty-four...sixty-four?


SIXTY-FOUR???

Out of a total of two hundred, I had failed at sixty-four marks? Was that how bad my stage had been? I recalled my viva. Yes, it had been horrible. I had rightly argued over the course of a nerve with a grim-looking teacher, whose long, black moustache had evaded me. That's all I had been staring at throughout my viva. :D

So he'd failed me. Good revenge, I thought.
I decided that the day was extremely unlucky for me. With my face hung, I walked out of the Anatomy department, to walk into Aadi, who seemed happy.
"How's your result?" she asked.
"Don't ask, they've failed me at sixty-four." I was really upset. She hugged me.

Aadi's coaxing words had made me feel better. That was when Kamran passed by and reminded me of the result AGAIN. =/
"I failed. Sixty-four." I told him too. He shook his head in pity.

Teyni dragged me to the dissection hall. There, I had to confront more happy faces. It was when I shed a tear that Teyni knew I had expected much more of myself. She took me to the notice board, ensuring me I hadn't made the right calculations.

What EXACTLY could be wrong with simple addition? But Teyni knew. She knew because she is an angel. =)

"Sixty-four..." she read.
"There, I told you!" I exclaimed, but she read further.
"...plus FIFTY-SIX!!!!" she suddenly squealed.
"What does that make?" I asked her coldly.
"It makes one hundred and twenty, you IDIOT!"

My eyes popped out of my head. I couldn't believe I had been dumb enough to ignore half of the result, and believed that I could actually fail like THAT. But then again, at university level, you can NEVER judge your test paper to be good or bad. =)

Three in a Row

When you're suddenly home-sick and you know you can't digest whatever you eat in hostel, you head home. It was the three of us this time. A little bit of disappointment here, because we always try to be an even number of people when riding the bus home; it's always more fun when so. No one has to sit beside a stranger and feel uncomfortable, and everyone else doesn't have to make an extra effort to help that friend keep pace with the gossip! :D

This time, Jay-G joined Teyni and me in our "back-home" journey at the eleventh hour.

It was a shock. =o

We knew that one of us would have to sit alone, but which one? =/

We got the first three seats of the bus. I fell into my "window-" seat lazily beside Teyni. It suddenly made me uncomfortable to know that Jay-G quietly filled her seat, miles away from us on the other side of the aisle. Teyni had to stretch half the length of her arm to poke Jay-G. She was THAT FAR AWAY. =(

Suddenly I had an idea!

I squeezed into the corner of my seat, making space for Jay-G in the middle, and called out to her. After all, the three of us weren't really fat: we fit in the couple of seats without squishing one another.

The road-hostess looked at us with sheer amusement in her eyes. We looked crazy sitting like that, but love knows no boundaries. Ha ha ha. =D

We talked about cars, and how all three of us had been driving without license. :D

"Ha ha ha! So we all have been breaking rules in our lives!" Teyni exclaimed. It was good to have a lot in common.

I opened my Kit Kat Dark Chocolate, and when I saw Teyni and Jay-G stick their tongue out, decided we weren't all that similar.

"Guys like dark chocolate, not girls!" Jay-G teased me. I didn't really agree with her, because I could finish a big bar of Bournville in half an hour without complaining about its taste. Anyway, I was glad I didn't have to give each of them a bite. :D

It was when I opened my big Dairy Milk that Teyni and Jay-G jumped upon me to snatch it out of my hand. Our fight over Dairy Milk is always hilarious. It starts with tickles and ends with faces smudged with chocolate. By the time our fight ended, my chocolate was half melted. =(

*tragedy*

When we reached Lahore, all three of us were "suffering from serious muscle fatigue of the face and thorax", we'd been laughing so hard.

Cherishing Home (:

Every time I visit home, I make the most out of the time I spend there. I am less fiery and more patient; I narrate the college gossip to my mom, bring gifts for Hamayal, the little one. =)

This time though it was a long weekend (Friday evening, a whole Saturday and half a Sunday) I spent most of the time buried under the burden of books (test this Tuesday =/). I talked less, even the stories of the sports week’s closing (I’ll narrate later!) I cut short in a nut-shell.

I always feel a little weird when I’m home. Diet is back to chocolate cereal and chicken kebabs as usual. Sleeping hours extend, and I know I don’t have to make my bed when I wake up because mom is kind enough to do that for me. However, there’s a strange feeling of shrinking back into that shell of a child I just crawled out of. I realize how safe it is to be at home, how brave my parents are to send me by myself to a world outside this shelter we all call “home”…

I shook the silver paper-bag so the last bit of cereal popped out into my bowl. I was going to throw the cereal box away with the empty paper-bag when I remembered there was always a “free gift” inside. =D the box felt heavy. Yes, there was a CD inside! Delighted, I tore the box to expose the neatly taped CD. It was a car-race game. The corners of my lips curled up into a wide smile and my eyes suddenly shone…all just to see I had got a free toy with cereal!

My elder sister saw this and laughed. I got goose bumps with embarrassment. :D

I started to tell her all about the Netizens Art Exhibition and how I was slightly jealous of a class-mate who sung better than me. =/

I told her all the jokes. I told her all the tragedies. We talked for a long time; I realized we were both were changing somehow. Then I read out a funny text message a friend had sent me:

“I want to hug you…

Around the neck…

With a rope!”

:D

My sister laughed heartily. I smiled.

Then she told me a funny joke from B.D Chaurasia’s book on anatomy. The book said “the deep fascia of the gluteal region is dense, opaque and pearly white.” She said that B.D claims our pearly whites are in our butt! That sure made me laugh. The way she twisted sober statements into jokes in her hilarious gestures was truly the old her. =)

Suddenly she said, “I want to hug you.” I glanced at her and back at my cell phone.

“…well I hope you’re not talking about the funny text I read out to you!” I replied.

“Oh, the joke is pretty obvious now we’ve heard it once!” she answered quickly.

“Aww, then I want to hug you too!!!” I said with a cheeky smile.

We both laughed.

The White-wash Refugee Night

Wednesday, 8_02_2012: …We (excluding me =D) woke up earlier that day…there was a great hustle bustle in the common room, our present residency. We packed our bags, and shifted everything we own to the back side of the common room, our trunks, mattresses and so forth.

I, as usual, lazily woke up at seven in the morning, folded my bed, stuffed everything into my trunk, and settled it with the others’ bags. We headed for college then…

Our hostel is getting painted inside out. It didn’t bother us much at first, even when we heard the news that girls from our neighboring hostel had to shift out of their common room for the purpose and spend the next three days God knows where. It started to bother us only when the same time broke unto us.

Most of us roommates got free at noon, and we kept wandering in the college as is our hobby.  =D We waited for the others to get free. Then we decided to stay in college as going to hostel would be a waste of our energies: we had no place to stay anyway.

Fourteen sorrowful hearts with lots of complaints and harsh feelings (x’@) settled in a circle in one of the college gardens. As light as butterflies, these fourteen hearts were carried away with the “photo session” that started soon (again, as is our hobby =p). Then the Netizens meeting was over and Aadi appeared, smiling at us. She’s an active member of the club. The club I myself don’t know much about as yet (=D).

We relaxed for half an hour on the bed of grass, and went back to the hostel at 3.30 pm. The common room was only half painted, rather only half white-washed by now. Disappointed, we scattered to find shelter in some seniors’ rooms. Teyni and I went to relax in the warm sun, and also to munch on some sweet. We talked and laughed for some time, then went to decide our near future (that is where we were going take an evening nap =D)

Dabi, a really sweet senior invited us to sleep in her room. We thanked God for bestowing upon us His mercy *slow dramatic violin*…but this feeling drowned immediately as we saw two charpoys awaiting us.

 *doh* =D

I tried and tried to tell myself that this is THE most comfortable bed I’ve ever known: I pictured a soft and bouncy four-poster, with muslin drapes and a silk sheet…*trrrriiiing*

The alarm for 6.00 pm rang, and it was time to attend a lecture on religion that a pious woman from another medical college had come to deliver.

She made us all cry for two hours: her words were touching and her prayer was harsh!

Then again we all were back discussing the same issue: where do we sleep tonight?

The first thing decided was that as we would get fourteen burgers delivered for fourteen empty, growling stomachs.

=D

We had a small party then at the back-side of the half white-washed common room, and then went to the warden’s room to beg for mercy (=p). However, all our whining and wailing was in vain.

At long last we won the battle against our self respect, and collapsed in a senior’s feet =D.

I told her she resembled Kristin Stewart…and check out the magic of my words, she agreed to keep us!!

*HILLARIOUS*: P

By the time we shifted 5 mattresses to her room, it was past midnight. The moon was laughing at us mercilessly. It hid behind dark clouds with shame when it saw we had finally found refuge under a roof of BRICKS rather than the star studded sky!

We were fourteen girls on five mattresses in a small room…Imagine that! R.a.k tucked us in this tiny space most comfortably. We had fun for some time (as time passes quickly :P) then on recalling the exhausting day, we remembered how tired we were. This sent us to sleep. =)

Hostel (part II): Dedicated to R.a.k.

Somehow, living in the common room has turned out to be a blessing in disguise, the major reason being the motivation for studying from my thirteen room-mates. Then not just studying, I've learnt to enjoy life to its fullest, something I would not have realized otherwise because I am not a multitasking person. =(

R.a.k, my roommate and a good friend taught me multitasking by simply letting me follow in her footsteps. However, no matter how much I try, I cannot be half as active as she is. Sometimes to see her run around under the burden of responsibilities (burden to me) makes me tense. I just want to stop her and let her take a deep breath. The best thing about her is that her words are promising and so are the actions that proceed.

She’s someone who helps gladly and does so like it’s her job. I used to see her being tense about my research work, when she wasn’t initially part of the research group, and guiding me with utmost concern where or where not I asked for help. Her suggestions are convincing and her ideas are strong.

Then the help for my part in the farewell of our principal: I needed the music of the song I had to sing in the function. I was quite tense as I had no source to download it. One afternoon as I was heading towards the computer lab to try the download out, I saw R.a.k sitting in the stairs thumb-punching her QWERTY, a frown on her face. I asked her presence and she looked up and told me she was trying to download the instrumental of the farewell song. I seriously wanted to hug her then. ^_^

Lastly, our “white-wash refugee night” (the story I’ll relate soon) was made sleep-able only due to R.a.k’s leading quality. She always knows what to do. She knew it two nights back too. She organized us such that we could fit in easily and were also satisfied with our places. She is the reason we slept in the maximum peace possible that night.

She truly is a leader!

There you go R.a.k!! Happy Birthday!!! (whenever it is =D)

The Flute in Me

A hollow flute when plays inside my chest,

My heart sinks, but my soul wants to dance instead.

Lifted from peace to celebrate the sorrow;

Burning like fire, as it rises from its rest.

You will see it as light in my eyes,

But only if you look deep enough,

And only if you search at all

Will you find where it really hides.

The music never stops to play.

I close my eyes, listening to it night and day.

Whatever may interrupt I do not move.

The flute chains me up and burns me through.

Cuts me and wounds me with its waves.

My soul spins to the climax of the music it makes.

When it pauses, my heart stops and waits.

Ears pricked, I cannot rest till it drowns my hate.

The flute. Curls me up like I am safe.

Gives my soul that dancing grace.

Blesses my eyes with the gift of tears,

For peace is when I cry, not silently bear

The truth. The flute. Turning me to stone.

Not numb, my soul shuffles with pleasure.

Taking out the sorrow, only to be fed with more.

Won’t you retrieve me by what is inborn?

The flute. Was grown and nurtured so well,

Won’t it die in you and me. Can’t you tell?

I keep returning for we are one music torn apart.

It can’t stop. It will pause, but again will start.

The flute. Listen for it was always there,

For the music never stops to play.

Why can’t you see your soul slightly sway?

When death comes along, it will only dance away.

The music never stops to play.

I am blinded with what is love they say.

I hang on to every note, each wave I closely hear.

You and I will make that music together one day.

"You'll Always be My Hero, Even Though You've Lost Your Mind"

Cutting Class...A Practice Students Never get Tired of

So I'm sitting here in the computer laboratory with my fingers warm. Somewhere in another world Dr. Tumnus (as I call him) is delivering a lecture on the highly complex system of nerves. The day is cold with the golden sun shining faintly from behind some bold clouds. =)

*Sweet*

...though not quite sweet at all. =/
No matter how much you envy me for NOT being in class, you should also understand WHY. The "high-tech" and advanced computer laboratory is always suffering from a dangerous virus that harms everyone's USB's. =(

I'm glad I didn't bring mine =D ;p

Anyway, so the point is it's not always necessary that students who cut classes are jerks =| I've cut class for a "noble" purpose. =P

See? That's how clever students think.
The message of today is...Be like me. =)

Uh oh! The lab attendant is telling me to "get out of the lab"...so I better get going. Have a nice day! =)