spent an interesting couple of hours at park towers today-
1. 3 guys & a girl at mantra- all of 19 years old- disussing what the girl should buy- a very detailed concentrated argument ensued over which item would suit her the best- one guy thought her waist was her best feature so the shirt must show that off- the other guy disagreed saying that particular shirt looked like lingerie- to which all the guys snickered and looked even more pimply & pubescent.
2. different lives at different tables in mcdonalds- each table had a story to tell, like the man reading out headlines from the newspaper while his wife devoured her mc flurry. or like the young couple at another table shyly gazing into each other’s eyes, and coyly eating their fries & burgers. sentimental indian music set an emotional, nostalgic mood
3. 2 elderly women at maria b- holding up lawn prints close to their faces, unable to believe why maria b should a. make lawn. and b. make lawn which looked just like classic or farooq lawn.
4. a woman at liberty who at one glance i boxed, and then had to shamefacedly unbox when she spoke in perfect english to her daughter and explained the merits & demerits of the books she had chosen- and why she should pick a certain one.
i bought-from liberty
1. shantaram- gregory roberts
2. the alchemy of desire- tarun tejpal
3. open house- elizabeth berg
4. birthday stories- haruki marukumi
hours well spent-
Here’s to dreaming- dreaming of mcdreamy, of men who make you swoon,
Here’s to wishing- wishing for someone who will dance with you- with abandon,
Here’s to hoping- hoping for superficial things, a great sense of style, an amazing body,
Here’s to believing- believing that it is all possible and it will happen-
Here’s to knowing-knowing that the best is yet to come.
It is my junior year, 1978, when disco and Rocky movies are the cultural rage. We are in an unusual sociology class at Brandeis, something Morrie calls “Group Process.” Each week we study the ways in which the students in the group interact with one another, how they respond to anger, jealousy, attention. We are human lab rats. More often than not, someone ends up crying. I refer to it as the “touchy-feely” course. Morrrie says i should be more open-minded.
On this day, Morrie says he has an exercise for us to try. We are to stand, facing away from our classmates, and fall backward, relying on another student to catch us. Most of us are uncomfortable with this, and we cannot let go for more than a few inches before stopping ourselves. we laugh in embarassment.
Finally, one student, a thin, quiet, dark-haired girl whom i notice almost always wears bulky fisherman sweaters crosses her arms over her chest, closes her eyes, leans back, and does not flinch, like on of those liption tea commercials where the model splashes into the pool.
For a moment, i am sure she is going to thump on the floor. At the last instant, her assigned partner grabs her head and shoulders and yanks her up harshly.
“Whoa!” several students yell. some clap.
Morrie finally smiles.
“You see,” he says to the girl, “you closed your eyes. That was the difference. Sometimes you cannot believe what you see, you have to believe what you feel. And if you are ever going to have other people trust you, you must feel that you can trust them, too-even when you are in the dark. Even when you are falling.”
excerpt from tuesdays with morrie
The simplest commitment is the one made in the heat of the moment- the easiest promises are those fervently spoken in a state of passion. I love you-I cant live without you-I will always be there for you-you are my best friend-you are the one for me-I will fight for you no matter what-
We say these words or hear them with our minds shut off and our hearts wide open-we need to believe in them.
Those promises which are never talked about & are a bitch to fulfil, are the ones expressed with every part of our being but not spoken in words- These are the vows our body and soul make- when our eyes zealously connect with another’s eyes and say things which we cant control- when each move we make is another statement of undying devotion-and when every time we touch its almost like another signature on the dotted line-
What we need to do is realize that where there is such a thing as keeping your word, there is also more importantly a thing known as keeping your non-words. And though the words have been witnessed by the world and therefore exist larger than life, the non-words keep growing inside us till they consume us and we fall down and hit the ground really hard and very fast-
one windy karachi morning, having breakfast at espresso-
3 women- all in black specs, the lawn shalwar kameez-just-dropped-off-our-kids-to-montessori-types, discussing their kids, looking at a baby’s portraits done by jimmy’s studio, having omelettes & coffee.
3 women- 2 with short curly hair, one with a tight bun, discussing the concept of christ & similarities between islam & christianity-
eating waffles & croissants.
2 girls & 1 guy-the guy dressed in office casuals, the girls in 3 piece dupatta suits, carrying journals & pens (part-time teachers perhaps?) one girl discussing the possibility of the other girl and the guy hitting it off as a couple.
ordered tuna sandwiches & orange juice (isnt the tuna sandwich very dry?)
my friend and i feeling slightly un-aunty like, both wearing brown, with the same brown nokia phones from the l’amour collection, brown leather bags-discussing skin types, theatre in the city, gossip, karachi & being single-
enjoyed pancakes & omelette with cappuccino & orange juice.
the wind was wild, crazy & ruthless, no kameez left unblown, no hair stayed in place-
the pancakes were cold, but the maple syrup delicious
was watching grey’s anatomy-wanted to share the following-
The early bird catches the worm. A stitch in time saves nine. He who hesitates is lost. We can’t pretend we haven’t been told. We’ve all heard the proverbs, heard the philosophers, heard our grandparents warning us about wasted time. Heard the damn poets urging us to seize the day. Still, sometimes, we have to see for ourselves. We have to make our own mistakes. We have to learn our own lessons. We have to sweep today’s possibility under tomorrow’s rug until we can’t anymore. Until we finally understand for ourselves what Benjamin Franklin meant. That knowing is better than wondering. That waking is better than sleeping. And that even the biggest failure, the worst, most intractable mistake beats the hell out of never trying.