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

Laws of retardation:Theory Four -Taking over

World in order

I can proudly say that my plan to take over the world is now complete. It took me some 18 years to finally get here and I’m deeply grateful to the Venus-lings for all their motivation and support. All hail Venus!

On a lonely summer day, I realized I was becoming a vegetable because I could not frame coherent thoughts and my vocabulary seemed to be rotting away with a rather putrid stench. It was truly devastating and I set out to investigate the cause, which I was shell-shocked to find: It was part of the greater plan of the Venus-lings to mess with my head. They wanted to turn me into a vegetable so that I would become useless for the Earth and they could take me away to Venus and make me their queen. The question is, why did they choose ME of all people for this prestigious, yet immensely important role? The answer is as following:

1. I love Venus too much and they received these signals confirming that from my heart and brain and the apple-pie I’m going to use soon. They were baffled by those signals and couldn’t find any such signal from a single Venus-ling! I mean I had even written two poems on Venus! They were just overwhelmed by my mis-directed patriotism and totally ashamed that I wasn’t one of them so they decided I deserved to be their queen (there are no immigration facilities up there so being queen was kind of essential or the army would take me down).

2. They realized the Earth didn’t deserve me because it had become too sad for me to live in and my heart couldn't take it anymore, even the apple-pie would crumble away too soon. Nobody on earth except Subata Khalid understood what I said most of the time or not in full depth at least and most of them gave me a hard time about it, trying to put me off. The Venus-lings realized I needed an escape and the power to make things right. That would only happen if I was the queen of some other planet.

3. They were tired of watching the ill-health of the earth and decided it was time for change. I was the only one thinking of a revolution in my part of the world and people were being too mean to me about it so they decided I deserved a chance to lead the change. I also have a blog called ‘Floodgates’ for crying out loud! They just understood the ideology behind it and were too impressed.

4. They had to make me queen anyway so they decided to throw in the Earth complementary for good measure too. I mean what more damage could possibly occur to it?

Armor and artillery

First and foremost, whoever is willing to accompany me needs to have their heart replaced with an apple pie- that is the sole armor we require. We shall then order sets of cowboy boots, enabled with the most modern, efficient, and possibly high-tech spurs. This will be taken care of by Saba’s Babu and we are deeply grateful to both of them in advance.

I know I've mentioned cowboy boots and they have a more ruthless appeal to the barracuda senses but I prefer Jimmy Choos. They are just irresistible!

Mc Donald's has been especially helpful and provided us with  these fresh, juicy and very sweet apple pies at our special request (be grateful all you pie-lovers, Mc Donald's would never have had the idea if it weren't for me). I prefer these over my own because I don't have to work, they're portable and occupy very less space, also easily replaceable (all you have to do is open the window in your chest, pluck out the previous one and replace it with oven-fresh stuff).

There is a wide variety of spurs to choose from. Take your pick!

 

   

Then we need to cat-nap some caterpillars and pack them away in jars (with holes in the lids for Oxygen). Seems like I have learned to make a note of precautionary measures, courtesy of A level sciences. At least they have some courtesy. We shall feed these caterpillars with apple-pies so that they become venomous and then prepare for the major part of our plan.

The Climax

We elope to Venus and after basking in its enchanting atmosphere for a while, raid the world wearing our sparkling spur-enabled, cowboy boots. We grab a random person on earth and say “Take us to your leader, earth-ling!” This by the way needs to be accompanied by our signature action of pressing our temples with our fore-fingers and jerking the head from right to left, making a 180 degrees angle in a robotic manner. The earth-ling (we are superior Earth cum Venus-lings now) takes us to NASA. We unleash the inescapable wrath of our venomous caterpillars upon the NASA dudes, the caterpillars sting them and they die at the spot.

The fruit

We then set out to give quick, painless deaths to most of the lowly beings walking this beautiful planet called Earth, making it a little more blood-stained and dirty by slashing their throats with the spurs! Simple, quick, painless, peaceful, revolutionary, innovative and modern. The world is mine (or maybe ours).

Image courtesy: Subata Khalid, Bisma Farukh, Saba Iqbal, Atiya Rafique and Google.