Lessons Learnt the Hard Way

Another cold season is upon us, and the schools are off. Sleeping, eating and chilling are high up on the list of 'to do' things. But there are things near the bottom too: grading papers, making presentations, lesson planning, catching up on reading and getting some quality family time. My brother went off back to Toronto with his family earlier this week. But on the up side, my other brother is coming back after five long years in a bit... my sister and I have planned pranking him at the airport - so what if I'm too old to be doing this stuff - one should be young at heart.

It has been quite a while since I've posted, but in my defense, I have been super busy. Busy with work and also busy with doing nothing. Let me explain. Ever since I've quit giving tuition at home, I've found myself with a lot more time (although I still can't understand how it gets over so soon). So I lounge around doing nothing, except enjoying the lounging after a hard day's work. As age catches up with me, I am finding myself increasingly exhausted. Exhaustion is a good thing though - makes for decent sleeping at night. And the cold has set in - kind of. I feel super cold all the time. It's me really. Yesterday my mother retorted it was quite weird for me to be wearing my fleece socks and sitting with the fan. Yes, admittedly it was, but as I explained, I am perhaps more sensitive to the plummeting temperature than others (possibly any other) - a quality that really works out in the heat of the summers. I have also been splurging. There's somethin

People will talk about things that they are not in control of. But the irony is they seek to control them anyway. And although it is true there are things we can't control in life, there are I think, shades of degrees involved. Human choice: it is the most formidable of human powers. And the most abused. But one thing I know you have no control over without a shadow of a doubt, is how others feel about you.You can be the kindest most compassionate being and yet you will have haters. You can be the most vilest of creatures and yet you will have admirers. Most people exist between the two extremes and obviously bias drives a lot of our behaviour. But no matter what, if the heart feels a certain way about someone, there isn't much you can do about it. The heart may even change, as it so often does, but even then it's just so beyond human control. You could be a breath apart and hate; you can be on the other side of the world and love. So what do we do? People who live w

I've been sitting for a while thinking what I should name this piece. Knowing that it would be a hotch potch of scaterred ideas, I decided to just go with the obvious choice. Speaking of a jumble of thoughts, there are so many circulating in my mind... the first and most recent one (I'll try reverse chronological order) is that I don't think I've seen this much rain in Karachi in the 5 years I've been here. The drainage system of the country is nothing to boast about and many people (and sacrificial animals for that matter) are in extreme distress. I've been looking at people posts on Facebook. Sometimes I think that the people are the new media. Journalists might become completely redundant one day. Coming back to the rain, scary videos of people half submerged in water, animals sprawled dead in the rivers of what were once streets and general flooding in areas is indeed very sad. Sitting on my comfy bed, in my comfy and dry room seems so much more of a bles

There come some junctions in life that give the opportunity of starting afresh. Sometimes those junctions branch off into completely new directions and sometimes they provide a fresh start to something specific. Say for instance marriage. That's a big one. Life takes a 180 degree turn and everything changes. Except a mother's love I suppose. Or for a student a new grade. That may seem like a lesser deal, but for the student, it is completely uncharted territory with potential and promise.

Ah, the weekend finally arrives. I feel like there is nobody who truly feels a weekend quite like a teacher does. As we approach the end of the year, things only seem to get crazier. Half the stuff is about next year! But back to the weekend. With Ramadhan right around the corner, this is the last day I'll be able to go out to lunch with my sister. We've planning something for weeks, but like all fun plans, they don't always materialise. Let's see if we can make it happen today. It's such a simple notion- planning to go out to lunch with someone you love- just planning, Yet, it's these small things in life that matter so much.

There is a half hour before the school van comes to pick me up and then I'll be on my way to another day of hard work and trying to make a difference. It's bright and sunny outside, the lull of the fan is oddly soothing and I can hear a bird in the distance. It's going to be a hot day. I can tell because of the hue of the sunlight- a very yellowish gold. I don't mind the heat much. I'm too busy to notice actually.

Everything ends: pomp. show, might, power, life. Steven Wallace says in one of his poems: The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream. Looks quite cryptic, but has such depth. It means that whatever power you have will ultimately be stripped away from you like the talons of wild animal tear away warm flesh- if not in this life (also transitory) then by virtue of death. People thick they're so high and mighty, but this is biggest deception of all. They feel like they hold power- but let me be very clear- the only power over you is the power of the Almighty. So I look around me and watch in amusement as people- some whom I once loved like my own, some I don't know but am intimate with the 'type', some I barely know, and I think- funny- what do they strut about for? Like peacocks. Like stallions who in a space of a few years will become old nags- not good enough to even be put out to pasture. And I smile inwardly- I think about myself having the last laugh. The t

Going to the dentist must be one of the most daunting- nay terrifying- experiences ever. But when the pain comes, and persists, it takes you down the rabbit hole right into the spider's den- more explicitly- the dentist's chair. The sheer immaculate, shining surfaces are unnerving, as is the gentle whirring of the clogs of the monstrous contraption that is the dentist's chair. The smell of disinfectant just adds to ambiance of dread and dismay. But most horrifying of all are the tools of torture that are laid out with meticulous precision, teasing, taunting and testing the resolve of the bravest souls. As the doctor strolls in without a worry in the world, clad in pristine white and looking like the ghost of all my hopes and desires, I shrink a little bit more into the plastic covered chair, as if somehow it would grant me respite against the looming and inevitable pain. Then something strange happens: the sounds emanating from her mouth are gentle and soothing like

Few things hold mystery. Not because they are mysterious, but because I just don't care. I may raise a quizzical eyebrow, I may even bat an eyelid, I may even occasionally give a second look, but people, I have learned, are resilient (for the most part) and will live if I don't prod and pry into their affairs. But then there are certain things that happen in an instant and they leave you in a haze of confusion. Even with the wildest stretch of your imagination, or mine in this case, can there be any plausible reason, or utterly implausible one for instances that seem to be right out of the Twilight Zone.

The numbers say I am getting old. I don't feel those numbers. I still feel like I've always done- except for the accumulation of memories. I may be wiser, I may be a little slower physically, but inside, I am the same. About getting wiser, it's inevitable with age I suppose. No white hair yet, but there are reading spectacles to show for it. And the years have taught me (particularly the fast few) that:

Usually, I write in extended metaphors. I do it because it's supposed to be a clever disguise over the angst in my chest. If I let it out in its raw state, it would consume me. And even in extended metaphors, I dare not linger a minute more than I need to- no use trying to pry open that Pandora's Box - nothing but a whole lot of grief inside. But one day a few days ago, a young, vibrant, highly intelligent student of mine made a comment that baffled me and gave me a lot to think about. I was, and am, a victim of the paradox this comment has put me in.