Archive for the 'Mind Freak' Category


One Last Time…

So I will meet him tomorrow..

For what my heart hopes is the last time…

I want this to end!  I am too exhausted from the endless justifications, and apologies and waiting for the what ifs to go away.  The love that meant so much is gone, exhausted.. drained from giving too much for the last 5 years without hope…

I don’t want a relationship where I am expected to be the strong one, and take care of things all the time… Once in a while, I yearn to be held in my sorrow with hands soothing my brow…

I want things to be taken care of where I don’t have to decide all the time…

I am sick of waiting for him to grow up!

I cannot give anymore and so I became cruel and cold and told him so…

Now he wants to meet me to give the words to his funeral prayer…

Is he going to hurt himself or me?  I don’t know…

And the fact, that I don’t care worries me…

Will he die?  I don’t know.. I don’t want him to… but if he does, how much am I to blame?

Will I die? Again, I don’t know… Will his irrefutable proof of love for me be in the form of a bullet to my head and then his own…?

I still want it to just end…  This is not giving me life as it is…  And if the end calls for this, then so be it!


Insane Condition for Closure…

I can’t forget…  I hear the echo of his words; and the malice and cruelty in them still and that echo is louder than the sanity inside me…


He left me to live with this because he did not have the nerve to come say these things to my face… Or was it because I was so worthless in his regard…

And the worthlessness?  Was it my own creation?  I alone gave him the power to do this to me…

Sanity says I still am giving him and his words too much importance.  He is still influencing me…

But my insanity wants the chance to see his fickle face once just to turn away from it…



… to do anything but weep and feel that knot of fear being pushed higher up in my throat along with the helpless, useless, impotent anger at the apparent worthlessness of our lives…

Today, my city mourns.  Innocent casualties of war and the death of our spirit and self.  With the burial of those perished today, will be the laying to ground of the death of our identity, morality and our faith.  Not we ever had any of these things to begin with but at least there was hope.

Students were killed today in another link of an alien war that has been brought to our country by those for whom we are no more than pawns.  Students!  Young women and men conversing about studies and class mates and books and games, maybe some had a wedding to go to or to arrange… Some may be sitting there thinking of the things they need to do when they get home… Some simply thinking how hungry they were…  And the walls came down on them along with debris, fire and scraps of metal that silenced their dreams, and their ordinary concerns…

And left forever echoes of screams and agony in the hearts of the parents who were seeing their future in those bright eyes that are now closed; who were now seeing that hardest labor of love coming to fruit…  Parents who will now bury those dreams and hopes under dust and dirt and leave a piece of themselves with them.  I can visualize the agony that is going to scream through the minds of those families today and wonder how people can not think of the repercussions of what they’re going to do?  Self sacrifice is all good and noble where you’re concerned but slaughtering others… Spare a thought, you miserable brainwashed machine!

How can any cause justify the death of this innocence?  Do these people truly feel that targeting innocents and civilians is going to make an iota of difference to those who sit in the seats of power?  As if we are worth that much!  And how many of us truly care anyway?  We will be saddened for a while, be worried a bit about maybe this being us but in the end we move on; going on with our ordinary lives.  We are conditioned to be cold now.  We have no feelings of remorse nor guilt nor retribution.

We have no sense of self.  Those who have died have done so in vain.  And those they have left behind will cry and mourn their loss.  And we will go on as we always have in the face of everything done to us.  We take it.  Here are our collective asses… Stuff whatever you can up them.  We can take it and more.

As to those who believe they are carrying out the Almighty’s will, why is it not Allah’s will that the oppressor dies a painful death?  Is it open substitution?  some kind of macabre play where the understudies for Zardari and Chief of Army Staff or Musharraf are always on stage to take the bullet both literally and figuratively?

Bloody bastards, if you must do something to right the wrongs committed against you, then do so against the perpetrators?  Go on and blast Musharraf and Zardari and Altaf Hussain and all the rest so your revenge can truly be complete!

Frank Herbert said: “If you think of yourselves as helpless and ineffectual, it is certain that you will create a despotic government to be your master. The wise despot, therefore, maintains among his subjects a popular sense that they are helpless and ineffectual.”

I don’t even want to blame the USA.  Why should I?  I have no right when I know that the fault lies within our on money grabbing, power hungry little hearts.  But DAMN!!

People say that standing up to the US and its imposition of rules and bills; drone strikes and elite forces would eliminate all this.  Saying it is rather easy, but doing it requires spirit that understands sacrifice.  Not the free for all, kill one-dozens free kind of spirit but the spirit that maybe we need to re-evaluate our lives.  Some comforts, some luxuries that we could do without, if it could mean breaking this narcotic hold that money has on everything we do.  It is money and silken sheets and crystal decanters that prompt the drive for governance in our country.  Never an actual spirit of changing the system.

I’m random and I’m ranting…  and everything has gone uncomfortably numb!



It’s like splintering into pieces from within…  Shards splitting from the center into slivers fine and sharp…  The kind that burrow in and make you bleed and you can’t get them out.  The fine edge just slides over your skin, through it leaving a sting sharp enough to make your breath catch…  Imagine thousands of those shards slicing through you inside out at the same time… so you don’t quite know where to hold the pain first…. you don’t quite know how to make the blood stop… even as you fade… all you feel is the agony…  all you see is the red…  all you feel is the helplessness of knowing that all that waits is darkness…


Referencing kills

All those people who invented bloody styles of thesis writing and referencing, should be thankful that they’re dead…  Because they would surely be dead now if I ever laid my hands on them…

Aaarrrrgggghhhhh.. khud mar gaye and museebatein hamare liye chhor gaye!!  Ufffff!!!


A Teeming Mind

… And yet, no possibilities.  Today as in so many days, I don’t see much to get me out of this eternal rut that I’m stuck in.  I had read and heard about the realities of life getting one down but never really experienced the helplessness that one endures in their wake…  

Money is oh, ever so important.  I look back at the feeling of having lived in a house owned by my parents with the kind of yearning that can make me double with pain.  It’s been around ten years that have seen us shift every few years into one rented house from another.  I dream of the day when I’ll have that peace of knowing that this floor beneath my feet and the roof above my head belongs to no one else.  But damn it, I don’t have the money for that luxury.  It’s shocking how rent money eats into your savings, with no return, leaving you empty and hollow…

You know, my parents are getting old.  In a couple of years, my papa will retire.  Mama has always been unwell.  Nothing critical but progressively strong medicine to treat migraine over the years has led to hypertension, blood pressure, osteoporosis…  She jokes about how her insides are probably degenerating but it sends a cold chill through me that makes me jerk back physically.  I’m a real mummy daddy bacha who even today at the grand old age of 30, sleeps best in the afternoon curled up next to papa, or whose day isn’t complete until every last, little detail of the day’s happenings is not repeated as it occured.  On the other end, I know my parents rely and trust on me far more than they do on my brother.  Where I am proud to be worthy of that trust, the pressure that I’ll disappoint them is also greater.  Right now, there is something alive and kicking inside of me that makes me just want to do something so I can make that little house where my parents can live…  But damn it, I so don’t have the money.

And then there’s my bro.  Bless him, he’s fine as brothers go but he is an intellectual of today.  He looks and treats all with the same kind of pragmatic, unemotional practicality that can really pinch at times.  Example being, if papa asks him for a loan, he’ll say something like he won’t be giving the household expenses for the next 3 months so that the loan can be recovered.  What is this, a bank?  They’re your parents.  They are the ones who sold their house so you could go to America to study.  They are the ones who spent hundreds of thousands of rupees on your wedding because that is what you wanted.  And this is the attitude you show them.  It hurt to hear that papa asked bro to bring medicine and he didn’t bring it because he was too tired to take the detour to the market on his way back from work and it was hot by the way.  It was the first time my father actually said something to the effect that this is where the difference comes between a parent and a child.  My parents never let lack of money, time or resources be a reason to refuse us anything.  We had the discipline that allowed us to study and study well, get jobs, have a reasonably well mannered countenance but we also knew, rather know that there is nothing that our parents would not do for us.

And then there is him.  Ugh!  The bane of my existance, or my entire world, I so don’t know.  Rationally, my mind knows the limits and possibilities and is prepared for them, somewhat but damn my heart drives me crazy at times.  He talks about all these things, futures, possibilities but there are so many what ifs…  His age, his dependency on his family, his youth and immaturity (not necessarily the same thing) and his damn emotional nature…  His decision making is so based on what his heart tells him to do that his brain has little or no role to play in it whatsoever… You cannot live like that in today’s world..  Besides, to my fault, let’s just say the heart’s decisions aren’t all that for me…  I end up thinking of things like so his heart likes me today but what happens tomorrow when his heart falls for someone else…

I want another job.  I love teaching but I want something different now.  Something more regular and less tiring.  The mileage I cover in a week, driving between the universities I teach at is physically and mentally exhausting.  It’s made me short tempered and irritable where I’ve developed a tick in the side of my eye when my fuse blows.  I want a time out but damn it, I want peace of mind and I want things settled for my parents.  And for that I need money and dayam, I so don’t have it!!



I can feel the wall building within me. 

And my mind is spinning…

October 2019
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