Just Another Stupid Post

I talk a lot about life. And death. And everything that mingles in between. But I mostly stick with life. It’s easier to tattle on something you’re experiencing on a daily basis. Of course, death is a handy topic too but being alive is the biggest reality. Trying to sprinkle some gyan about life is an intriguing exercise. It may make others go “You need to get a life!” or something in that line but trust me, they don’t say anything to your face and whatever they think in their empty head is their own personal business. Whatever. I can even bet that almost each one of us spew philosophical nonsense on life, knowingly or unknowingly. It’s like a validation of all the time you spent on this lonely planet.

Interestingly, we refer to life as a third person. Most of the words we use to describe it is inspired from songs we hear, dialogues we rote on screen, news we read and stories and poems we learnt as a kid. Yes, not to deny that considerable amount of it is based on personal inexperiences, too. Situations vary. Expressions vary. For example, when we are happy, we don’t jump around thanking our life for being so kind and shit. The same reaction isn’t true when unfavorable events take place. Why me? How unfair! FML!...... follows. Needless to say, life is exaggerated so it’s quite normal to see its nuances pumped up via words. I

Almost everyone’s ultimate dream is to lead a perfect life. It could be for anything – love money, fame, peace, industry, benevolence, etc. In truth, very few pursue this relentless dream as the idea of perfection is hard to overcome. For the rest of us, talking helps. Hearing your voice may be the easiest task but that’s when reality kicks you in the balls. The thing is, our approach towards life is totally different from the way life approaches us. We are like life’s guinea pigs. Most of us have no clue what we want to do with our lives. Some do. But the worst are those who know exactly what they want to do but are doing nothing about it.

Moreover, there is no dearth of words of wisdom when it comes to how you should live. That’s how it is.

After reading this, you must be cursing “You need to get a life!” to me. Fair enough. If I had the kind of life I wish I had, I wouldn't have been bothering myself with this stupid blog either.

Life's *Storry*

Since I’ve got absolutely nothing to blab on, I’ll try my bad luck with stories. Like you know, stories go back a long time. For most of us, our grandmas held the password to the magical world of endless tales that kept us engrossed when we were less-stupid little kids. And then one day you grew up and stopped paying heed to impossible fibs. In simpler words, you became a part of your own story called Life. You were the main character, for a change. Of course, you realized every now and then that you weren’t cut-out for the part but still you carried on with it. Needless to say, you often wondered, “How the heck did I bag this role?” So you started looking around and acknowledged the fact that this whole world is an exotic stage and we are all mere hams, diligently trying to act professional, ad-libbing every now and then to add a twist to the script. But in the end, you get a story to call your own.

No matter where you come from, you always carry some f-ed up story with you. These stories, so to narrate, are mostly based on personal inexperiences and utter disregard to consequences. That’s exactly what makes it so damn captivating – its raw unpredictability and undeniable authenticity. Somewhere down the line, we learn that our story can’t be perfect the way they show in movies. Our stories are basically sad, to be frank. We love melancholic drama and not even attempt to get tired of it. Maybe this is the reason why our stories mostly turns out very hospitable to tears and warms heart. Luckily, a fortunate few find the silver smiling lining amid this charade and laugh their heart out at the trivialness of breathing. And some join in the laugh riot.

This story we’re talking about here is alive. It has procreative gifts. For instance, it can give rise to spiteful rumours, adulterated anecdotes and misquoted quotes, too. Far from being dead words, this story is life itself. It may so happen that once in a while, life may abandon you and digress towards loneliness, lethargy, maudlin and other such inviting corner. Despite this interlude, the story goes on.

"Dearest Life, January was here but you weren't, where were you? February is here but you aren't, where are you?”

The search never ends nor the hide-and-seek routine. Just for a story’s sake.

Chancing on a Change!

If you ain't living on some deserted island or in deep Amazon, there is a pretty good chance you'd be nodding to the fact that something is brewing in Egypt, or should I say in Arab world, at large. They say it is history in the making or a dictator in the breaking. The experts believe epic events like these don't take place often. Well, the people in the know love to dig past, analyze present and predict future. That's their job. But one intriguing word is doing the rounds – Revolution.

People love revolution. Everyone desires a change even at the price of not knowing what exactly that change is all about. Give them an affable leader and a common enemy and then lo and behold. The emotions will unfold on streets, the very place where we're expected to do the very opposite. Every single time the media flashes pictures of people gathered on a city square, you can feel euphoria, anguish, hope, ecstasy, all served on a single plate. You see a crazy crowd shouting slogans, waving flags, pelting stones, burning vehicles and everything that isn't within the definition of civility. And yes, do note that revolution almost never takes place in rural areas!

The chaos that promptly spills on roads actually begins with a society. We, being the herds that we are, love to let society guide us in spite of knowing perfectly well that human society is a failed experiment. One of the biggest reasons why it flunked lies in our inherent selfishness. Small wonder we ended up here, deservedly though. We belong to the kind that not only hunts on full stomach but also qualmlessly boast about it. We don't have to travel far to know what I'm blabbering about. Just take a look at your place. The place you like to call your home. Make a list of all the stuff lying there that isn't of any use to you but it is still there, nonetheless. It could be anything from the clothes you don't wear anymore to the food that gets wasted every single day. The bottom-line is we are neck deep in materialism. The concept of sharing with the less-privileged never kicks in. After all, we are busy 'getting ahead in life'. This is where society fails abysmally and such imbalanced societies proceed to give birth to so-called revolutions. History reeks of struggles where collective human suffering was the winning difference.

Now, the daunting question is who do we want to change – the society or self? The simpler choice would be changing the society. People have being doing that aeons now – trying to change others. The more difficult task would be changing oneself voluntarily. It's high time we washed off this thick coat of want and get a better sense of other's pain and misfortune.

Coming back to the breakthrough happenings of North Africa, let's hope this time it's a revolution for real, not political checkmate or a religious knockout. Revolutions always leave behind its share of ignominy. In fact, the only revolution that passes off without any controversy is the one our planet takes around the sun.

Let's see.

In awe of Coke Studio...

The other day, someone who read my blog (I know it’s hard to believe that just like it’s hard to believe you are reading now!) concluded that I write less and complain more. Well, I told him I've got the divine right to rant and he, the divine wrong to get offended. But I guess he had a point. My writing is bleak and I ought to apply the positive elements too, and most importantly, try to project myself as less of a loser than I already am.

Movies and Music are my closest friends. Since I’ve already done a bland piece on cinema, I’ll try to replicate its *success* with a on songs. No, no, I won’t be listing out ‘20 Names in Music’. That won’t happen for a very simple reason: I don’t know much about music except that it’s almost like a medicine that puts the heal in health. So here’s what I’ll do. I’ll just talk about the songs I got hooked to lately and what makes them so special.

Before I get started, I must confess I’m smitten by Coke Studio. For those who aren’t aware of it, go Google it. It’s one of the finest things to have ever come out of Pakistan and you can’t afford to miss it. There are hundreds of musical gems flowing thanks to this TV Show. And one such song that has been at the top of my personal chart is ‘Mori Araj Suno’. This song by Tina Sani is electric, to say the least. It is Sufism meet God meet Tina Sani meet talented musicians meet Sufism. Perfect harmony.

Besides, do check out Nawai Ney. It is a melting pot of flute, violin, drums and everything else that pitched in well with Tina Sani’s tuneful voice, powerful words and the chorus of three pretty girls. Needless to say, Sufi music has this unexplainable purity that engages mortals with our so-called Creator and back.

Arieb Azhar’s Husn-e-Haqiqi too belongs to the same stable. Here, Khwaja Farid-inspired lyric questions the vanity behind naming Almighty and draws parallel between nuances that goes unnoticed in our day-to-day existence. And then there is also his Na Raindee Hai which extols the virtue of truth and invokes the supreme power as well as Bulleh Shah in the concluding line. I’m in awe, is a gross underunderstatement.

Add Arif Lohar & Meesha Shafi's spirited Jugni and Zeb & Haniya's Afghani folk number Bibi Sanam Janem to the list and you're a fan for life. And please let Sanam Marvi's Pritam tickle your musical curiosity.

For those who aren’t Sufially-inclined and found the aforementioned reccos dull, either go stab yourself with a plastic knife or try Damien Rice’s The Volcano and Rootless Tree. The haunting but assuasive cello at the very beginning sets the tone for the song and the two beautiful singers with melancholic swagger do the rest. 

Enjoy.

Expression of Depression

There’s something about depression that grows on you. Maybe it’s depression itself. Maybe not. You keep on falling down and down to a point of absolute comfort. You are zoned. Most of the time, you take a U-turn and come back to your senses and deal with the fall. But sometimes, you just fade away.

Once in a while, life makes you realize you were born to be depressed. Of small things. Of big things. Of nothings. But you’ve got to be depressed to be part of the crowd. Perhaps, you are not content with the way you look or smell or think or express. And worst of all – no wait, worstest of all – people think they know you. It’s like you are a guinea pig in a huge social experiment. Society is, after all, an invisible layer of stress, constantly wanting you to act in a certain way or the other. But at the end of the day, no can harm you more than you. That’s an unestablished fact.

We keep chasing happiness only to realize it was peace of mind, not happiness, we were after. No wonder sadness is never out of fashion. It’s always there around the corner waiting to pounce on you and won’t give up until you yield to its magic. A big part of the problem dwells in our mindset too. We shape our desires and ambitions and worldly hoo-haa-haa according to elements encircling us. We are never really free, you reckon?

Some of us confuse depression with disease. Even science wants us to believe so. Well, it’s a personal take but if depression is a medical disorder, then happiness is too. Shrinks may not agree as they are too busy stuffing you with drugs that go smoothly with your hollow system and your supremely f-ed-up mind.

We are facing our own creations. Moreover, sadness is underestimated for all the power it holds. In reality, it is more powerful than happiness. A happy moment doesn’t stick with you for long. Blame it on biased amnesia but that’s how it is. Smiling randomly reminiscing about gone good days doesn’t take place much often but crying hoarse over how life had been unfair in the past is quite a famous exercise.

As usual, there was no straightforward intention to come up with this piece. Just plain depression at not being able to come up with anything better.

Of His Own

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He knows not how to win
nor to break hearts asunder,
all he does is speak his mind
leaving the devil to wonder…

He gets alone wherever he is
and secretly cries his eyes out,
while enjoying the noise of a distant smile
calm as a cold and cold as a clam…

He is not what folks think
as they aren't worth the trouble,
has no reason to do otherwise
for he tells no truth, he tells no lies…

He rises under the sun
and sweats in the noon,
kisses the sweet breeze
and sleeps with the moon…

He's well aware of death
as well as the mysteries breathing beholds,
yet he wants to try his best
to keep his chin up when he falls dead…

Quite or Quit!

I’m thinking about my job. Gotta quit either one of them. OK, I quit thinking. Bad jokes apart, this is a serious issue. Nah! Don't worry. I'm not going to advocate nihilism-hedonism-combo-supershit philoSOURphy here though I'd love to do exactly so but I'll try not to. What I really want to do is convey the importance of getting a proper job which one LIKES. The type where you don't have to ask yourself, "Is my job worth the piss I'm holding back?" Nevertheless, the term 'workaholic' doesn't apply to you if you don't like your job. As streetforward as that.

I'm emphasizing on the likeability factor as I ain't particularly someone who is very much happy with his job profile like majority of my fellow-employees in this universe, aliens included. I'm not exactly excellent at what I'm doing but I'm not the worst case scenario so I can say that I know my job better than the back of my hand. But then, what the heck do i need to know the back of my hand for, eh?

Throughout my sorry life, I always wanted to be somebody. And I'm still not THAT somebody. It's like a fading reverie where I see opportunities being gutted right in front of me. In reality, I'm rather busy writing stupid pseudofunny lines and feel like a monk with a monkeyish grin. I may not be as hopeless as this piece is turning out to be but trust me, one must get a job one dearly loves. Although it's hard to believe I too used to love my job from the bottom of my fingers once. Today when I look back, I wonder if they drugged me or something. You see transcribing is not the world's best job and transcription is hardly known outside our small thriving circle. Honestly, my job and I are simply destroying each other but we both pretend as if we are unaware of the fact. Plus, the nocturnal nature of my work doesn't help much. There is hardly any social life left of whatever was left before I left diurnal existence. No, Social Media doesn't count! And the ugliest part of all: I'm getting screwed by my job while my cronies are getting laid.

Maybe it's time to quit. But what next? I don't need this stupid job as long as no one mentions money and I'm wearing a pocketless trouser. My parents won't allow a 24 year old crazy son to stay at home tied to his PC watching never-ending movies. That is just not happening. So I guess I'm at the crossroad of my life. Perhaps, I should go back to what my forefathers used to do – farming. Not a bad idea to be frank but I'm not harboring that Lucky Ali moment. At least, not yet. On a second thought, I must become a fisherman and go back to the sea. After all, according to Darwin, that's where we all come from. On a third thought, I guess I should escape into the deepest of jungle and fulfill the penultimate dream of emulating my childhood hero Mowgli's life. But again, I guess I'm too old for that kind of nonsense.

Enough of trivializing the "serious issue" I noted in the very first line. Maybe, I'm overreacting as usual. Maybe it's just a phase and like all other phases, this too will burn out. Some days it feels great to have a job. Apparently today is not such a day.

Whenever I'm in office I keep reminiscing about all the stupidities I committed and how little I learned. Anyway, it's never too late to improve, quit or die. Or write another futile piece and undo whatever you blabbered in the previous post.

P.S: Just thought of doing something more insignificant than my job. Hence this blog post. *cruel laughs*