Free Delivery

Freedom, independence and liberty are all synonymous with each other and with the evening breeze of the National Independence Day mingled with the aroma of Shashlik.

Cuz that's where the breeze is

What could be more invigorating than the feel of fresh air in your hair while you ride beside a daigh in a Suzuki and tantalize your taste buds with Shashlik in your cozy little niche right after iftaar? To me it feels like the perfect celebration of national independence day: the free breeze and free food in the Suzuki that's free of smooth brakes and protective barriers that are meant to keep you from falling off. Though I would like to uplift your spirits further with the good news that even if you do fall off you will not have enough velocity to escape the earth. In fact the whole situation seems rather royal to me. It's like your kingdom and the daigh your throne? Though I would like to reiterate your attention towards the fact that the walls are low and you should do something about that in order to prevent the likes of Trojan War. After all, the throne is very very precious.

NOM NOM NOM!

Rocking on four wheels, you roll on the road, nestled comfortably in your warm spot like a hen guarding the daigh like its eggs. The world gawks at you in awe, stares in discomfort and confusion. If you wish you can imagine some track from 'Lord of the Rings' playing in the background. Meanwhile you think "I must be the dragon warrior, hence NOM NOM NOM! Must make the most of the journey...eating, that will certainly help cool down the fire raging within me and I shall find my inner peace."

It doesn't matter what the man on the motorbike thinks while he's staring at you as if his eyes will pop out any moment. What really matters is the aroma of ketchup and peppers in the soft, steamed rice; the chunky chicken and your stomach's delight.

PAKISTAN ZINDABAD!

The sky so lovely,
The sun obscure,
The breeze so lively,

Your emotions so pure. 

Your nation will be transcendent,
Its buds mature,
You feel with dignity,
That the day hasn't been a bore.
You feel independent,
You feel so sure,
You feel so free,
Like Kung Fu Panda's lore.



And having written all that, I feel QUITE lame but happily so, hoping it made you happy too :)

Suffocating Sundays

Pacing in the drawing room, as that’s the only room I prefer to live in through the summers, I spend my days. I sit, stand up, walk and sit down again. The drawing room is my kingdom in the sweltering heat of the desert Karachi seems to be turning into. Since this season is also associated with exams, the most important ones of the year, I pretend to study in the drawing room. In fact, that is why I chose this room to live in, in the first place – I thought studying there would be easier. It was, in the first year. It really seemed so. But now… it just isn’t, bluntly speaking. Blunt – it’s a great word. It sounds so blunt, it gives a blunt feeling that vividly imparts how blunt one feels. So it’s also ironic, perhaps. Or was it oxymoronic? Okay, this really isn’t how I should be at this time of the year because I have an English exam in two months!

Anyway, I was talking about the drawing room and how it no longer seems like Jasmine’s part of the palace. I stack up my books in my drawing room and papers too. Lots of them. It looks like a study but that’s hardly what I do there now. I realized weeks ago that I no longer study there, but it was only today that I realized what exactly I do there. I pace around the room, sit down on one of the sofas, gaze into the sunlight streaming in through the windows; contemplate on how hot it actually is and compare the bougainvilleas I can see on the window opposite mine, to roses. Yes, the bougainvilleas belong to the people who live in the house opposite mine, since nobody in my family has the patience for gardening. I love flowers and all, my childhood fantasy was having a rose garden but I rediscovered this fantasy only days ago, while doing a yoga routine. Yeah, that depicts how much importance I’ve given to the idea in the past few years.

So yeah, we were talking about Sundays. No, I was supposed to talk about Sundays since I titled this post accordingly. I like being blunt. Being blunt on Sundays, because that’s how Sundays are: boring, bleak and blunt. I love power of three, whoever designed this technique in the English Language, must have been amazing. Or well, very fond of details and repetition in the very least.

Redirecting my attention to Sundays, I hate them. They make me feel disoriented, just as this post sounds. I get bored, can’t concentrate on anything, there’s nothing good on TV. I also feel morose for absolutely no reason and that frustrates me, which further leads to stress. And some more stress when I realize that I could be doing severe damage to the mood centers in my brain. In fact I believe I HAVE already done the damage and that’s why this happens to me with a greater intensity each coming Sunday. I think I’m only left with the anger/depression center and perhaps only a molecule of the happiness center. This certainly goes for Sundays, if not other days.

P.S. I’m also certain that I have ADD (Attention Deficit Ooh shiny!) I change my train of thought a little too often and ‘shiny’ corresponds to not only physically shiny objects but also shiny thoughts, metaphorically speaking. Shiny train tracks for my trains of thought, if you will.

Oh and, thanks for bearing with me. Have a great Sunday, or what’s left of it J