Archive for the 'Auto-Pilot' Category


IT Incompetent….

…  I hate myself!

I go around in the world of technology, blogging going ker-plunk and ping like a huge pinball when I come up against terms like FTP support and servers and clients…

I feel so illiterate!!


Shopaholic? Am Not!

Here’s the deal. I hate shopping. It’s at times like this that I doubt my female orientation. You know the stereotype? Walking around malls, laden down with bags and once in a store, only coming out when either the pockets are empty or the store runs out; Having the low-down on all the sales, the best bargains, the best shops..

And clothes shopping? I abhor it! My mama can’t understand how I walk into one store and walk out in 15 minutes with something. I can’t understand how she can spend so long sifting through hordes and piles of cloth when essentially it takes a couple of minutes to understand if you’re going to buy something or not.

The family decided to utilize the public holiday commemorating Kashmir Day by driving to Peshawar and spending the day getting together things for bro’s soon to be wedding. (Fingers Crossed for that!) Papa, smart man that he is decided to get himself out of the tangle by saying that we can drop him off at XYZ’s place in Hayatabad so he can get some work sorted out. Which left me to chauffeur my mama around Saddar and Koochi Bazar in the city’s narrow streets overridden by rikshaws, buses and no traffic rules whatsoever. Didn’t let bro weasel out telling him it was his prospective better half’s shopping and I was not carrying all the bags that I knew we would inevitably end up with.

Six hours!!! Six tortuous hours were spent in those narrow bazars wandering from one small street into another and then another. The musty smell of cloth and ‘hermal’ smoked in the corridors as mama picked, prodded, draped and bargained her way through stacks of silk and jamawar and old style kumkhuab interspersed here and there with chiffons and velvets.  My mama is such a tyrant!  I mean it in a good way of course!  She would sit with three or four patterns in front of her and ask bro or myself on which one to get.  The amazing thing was this went on till we came up with the correct answer i.e. the one mama already said that she liked best. 😀

Thankfully though, mama is most suitably happy with her purchases.  Bro manfully sat through the session with a small, almost beatific smile on his face.  Little angel that he is while I scowled and sighed my way through the seemingly endless day.  I was rewarded nonetheless at lunch time with steaming hot Chapli Kabab’s from Jalil and sweet, sweet qehwa.  The word ‘green tea’ seems so insulting somehow.

Then it was back to the old part of the city to buy lotus roots, paneer and amrassey.  My coming to Peshawar is always tempered by the food shopping I swear.  Papa walked right into the centre of the bazar to get gorgeous, soft khattey ke kabab (Don’t ask me to translate please!) packed for me as per promise extracted before setting off.  We left around 3 in the afternoon, well in time to stop again near the old mosque to have pakoras and qehwa as only made in that corner of the city and then homeward bound we were!

I have spent the last 24 hours being told about the next week’s regime to go all over Rawalpindi, Qilla and Moti Bazar to now get the clothes worthy of being worn by her soon to be one and only daughter in law.  I’m doomed!


Around the First Bend

“This is the way a research paper is supposed to be presented!”

Sat through six hours of torturous presentations that appeared to go on till doomsday. The fact that all the papers presented before mine were based on quantitative research and the litany that were ANOVA and correlations and regressions and p and f and t values was way too lyrical for my much imbued mind probably was one reason that I was fretting. Professors and advisers at Research Conferences are notoriously pro-quantitative research. Even when the course is taught, we are told next to nothing about the tools for evaluating qualitative data and analysing it. I kept thinking how I persuade the strict looking panel of the validity of my own analyses.

Turns out, all my fears were unfounded.  Alhamdulillah, thanks to an aesthetically and technically sound presentation and a smoothly voiced delivery, the conference ended to public acknowledgement of the quality of my presentation.  Reminded me once again, how thankful I need to be to my parents for ensuring I studied at a good school that placed such emphasis on language and confidence building.  It was the only thing that made a difference today.

March 2020