تزک جلالی
It is the failure of us as a collective that we are not able to develop a political system clean of violence. It is our fault and our fault only. We will praise every nation we go to. But we will not adapt anything good. What better is there in the world than the place one calls home.
The CJ should return to Islamabad, his staying here will not change the status quo, but his going back might. It is a small chance, but when you are losing lives in an absolute anarchy situation you have to take chances.
In my capacity as a citizen of this city, which might not amount to much in anyone's eyes, but at the end of the day I as a citizen am all there is to things, I would request the CJ to return to Islamabad. It is a difficult decision since I have supported the CJ since Day 1. But if there is one iota of a chance of improving the situation it is this. And we must take it.
What of us? What of me? What of my friend Imran sitting in his balcony trying to catch of glimpse of his brother coming home? What of my colleage Ahmed whoes uncle was going for the rally? What of my friend Amina who lives in an apartment overlooking the carnage?
This is not Beirut. This is not Calcutta. This is not Bohemia. This is Karachi.
What have we become.
Have just come back from a very long drive through a very large portion of the city. Shahra e Faisal is closed at Tipu Sultan. Security personnel are visible. The city is uncharacteristically calm. The throughfares are solitary. Like the sudden calm during the deep breath before the plunge. But, a plunge into what? Tomorrow is a day when to quite an extent the future of our country will be decided. On the streets. For better or worse. And, for all we know, we don't know anything. Anything can happen. Anything may happen. It will effect us all. But, we do not know it at all.
It is like a building crashing overhead. It might crash on us, or it might now. The stakes are very high. The absolute lack of clarity or control very complete. Utter and absolute sense of impotence.
Waiting with baited breath as the future of my nation unfolds. Before my very eyes with me as a completely powerless bystander.
Tomorrow will tell.
It would seem that Jasmine Revolution will be hitting Karachi on Saturday. It was going to be different, but like all things in this great psychologically imbalanced city of Karachi it is not.
There are massive rallies and peaceful demonstrations planned both by the combined opposition parties who are supporting the visiting Chief Justice in his stand against the government and by the Muttahida Qaumi Movement. Though there is no apparent reason for problems but, be prepared.
As per the training in near anarchical situations that seem to be the norm in all large cities infested by humans. We all wait with baited breath.
Ok. Ok. I know, it is wrong, and evil, and sinful, and completely despicable. And I know what all of you will say. No, you should think about these things. Remember last time. Please don't forget how it effected your life. It nearly ruined your career. It destroyed your social life and our friendship was under strain because of your antics. And that I am the only son and I should be more involved in family and not spend all day long sitting in the window seat reading Hardy.
But, I dont care, it is not your decision, it is mine. And, I am not afraid to say it out loud, I will say it, and I will scream it from the top of very tall buildings where noone else can hear me.
I am in lust!
It is this cleaning guy; I swear I can not keep my eyes away from his face. I have just seem him today and yesterday. But, with the amount of staring that I have done and the fact that he actually looks at me now because he knows that I will be staring at him makes it better.
Wicked office lust politics. Jalal is learning so much.
Ladies and Gentlement, Pakistan's coming of age party in full swing;
The Jasmine Revolution.
It seems that
The Jasmine Revolution.
Non violent defiance of unconstitutional means. Slow and steady with the support of the general public. Apparently directed against known figures. But in reality, symbolizing the fact that we have indeed reached critical mass. Enough educated and self aware Pakistanis to finally raise their voice against what is wrong. By the volume of people present, it is clear that this process will not stop.
We have finally learnt how to demand and then to win through non violent means what is our right. The sky is the only limit.
I am happy; and hopeful.
Well, if only I had the ability to take amazing pictures and some sort of an electronic device that allowed me to take as many pictures as I want. And another device that records everything I see in exactly the same way as I see it. Would love to relive things that I have done.
And, in addition to that, if I can also have the ability to eat and drink as much as I want and not exercise and still be absolutely delectable, fresh and strong.
So many things, so few mercies. What is man to do?
I seem to be going insane.
Ahhhhh. I love beauty. I just love it so very much that I can not for the love of God describe it in words. I am sure you all concur. But, wow!
It has come to my notice that a large number of people are trying very hard to destroy my impeccable reputation. I have seen comments, where people want to ask me how 'I would have spanked myself with leather tongs after pouring yougurt on myself' and other such statements that make the minds of my readers wander to a very unknown land where Jalal can not be what Jalal is!
Shame on you evil mongers for the light from the burning Sun shall shine through the thick clouds of lies and deceit and illuminate my yogurt drenched form using a leather tong with dexterity.
I hate going to work on mass public holidays. It is even worse when mine is the only department completely at work while the rest of the building contains less than 10 Kgs of living matter. And in this I am including the Chicken Sandwiches that we ate. I could have sworn that the muscles were still contracting as we ate them. Brings new meaning to the term fresh food.
And since we are on the topic of things that I hate, I hate driving to work and crossing only 4 cars where I have to travel for one hour through rush hour traffic every day. And I hate imbecilic motorcyclists who think that simply because the road is quite empty at 9 in the morning they can simply drive on all of the road rather than their own little bit of it. And yes, the bluberry topping on an absolutely amazing piece of cheesecake, I hate getting up at 8:15 in the morning on the 1st of frikking May 2007 to go to my vampiric office just so that my manager can show off to his boss's boss's boss that he is capable of running a team.
I hate stupid people. I hate deceitful people. I hate managers. I hate stupid, deceitful managers. Hence, the most natural post industrial state of the human being. Hating one's manager. That is where I am. Dont judge me because I know you are the same. The very very same. Or you are sleeping with you manager. Shame on you! How dare you destroy such a pure and noble relationship built on hatred, mistrust and revulsion by adding sex to it. You sicken me! Now go back to eating your Yogurt before I start to spank you with my leather tongs after pouring all that Yogurt on you!
There are great cooks; there are good cooks; and there are terrible cooks. Apart from being the starting lines of the 1,400 page rollercoaster of a novel on the saucy life of a homosexual cook in an upper class Pakistani house with a general penchant for sex and immorality dealing with the social, cultural and religious undercurrents of Pakistani society this will also the starting line of today's post.
I found out today that I am a bad cook. So if I had a gun to my head and had to cook eggs or something easier, I would end up being dead! Rather than being able to dish up a palatable dish. I sure hope my wife is a good cook. Or I will be destined to a life of eating out at expensive restaurants and growing fat faster than a speeding bullet.
Quote of the day, courtesy St. Jalaluddin the lunatic (can also be read as Maulana Jalaluddin the Lunatic, Swami Jalaluddin the Lunatic or Kahn Jalaluddin the Lunatic).
General - Man is a social animal.
Correct - Man is a sexual animal.
Well! If there is anything I really like about work, it is the all day training sessions that come few and far between like smiling managers and overly motivated employees. You get to meet a bit too diverse a group of people all trying to enjoy their first and last escape from the clutches of their manager.
And, training means getting off from work at 5 at opposed to the usual 12. So, one gets to have a life. You can go out, have coffee with friends, who, one has to admit, like discussing the strangest of things. What kind of women men are attracted to? What are your worst fears? Who did what at work? I am sorry, I am gay and would to sleep with Colin Farrell but discussing such personal emotional stuff makes me feel uncomfortable and edgy. I mean, what the fuck, I will talk about feelings and emotions if I grow a vagina, but since I am a man, I would rather talk about guns, killing wild animals and fighter jet planes.
Hmmmmmmmm. My brain seems to have been seriously damaged over the past couple of months. Mental Balm anyone?
Monday - 05 Rabi us Sani 1428 - 03 Vaisakh 1929 - 23 April 2007
With the fear of sounding overly repetitive, it has been some time. I would ascribe my absolute lack of linguistic and mental abilities to my vampiric capitalistic complete devoid of sensient brain cell organization. But then again, who can really say who is to blame generally.
So, recently I was supposed to move to another department. I was hoping it would be the one with the hot manager, with whome I had planned to have wild animal sex on the office desk and then fall to the cold marble floor during the dangerous and rather illegal liaison and not even notice. But it turns out that my passionate tasting of the forbidden fruit was not to be for I was shifted to another department with a rather brainless sub human evil imbecile as a boss who I am sure would not be able to get an erection without dedicated help from at least four of his team members because it just was so complicated.
Please dont get me wrong. I like evil men. I love evil men. Especially Satan. I am sure sex with him would be torrid, for want of a more intense word. But then again I am expecting Satan to have a smashing sense of humour, like all villains in cheap hollywood movies.
Apart of my sojourn in the dark malicious corridors of Vampire Inc life is basically good. I have had to come to out to my older sisters. Who have taken it as an aberration and have promptly asked me to pray regularly and only then will I become normal and this anomaly will be removed as it has to be the work of the devil. Of course gay sex is wrong. But then again they havent seen Pavel Novotny. How can someone so muscular and extremely sexable (on a scale of 1 - 37 : 35) be wrong. Doh! Of course being gay is ok. If only Colin Farrell was gay, I would absolve myself completely. All said and done, I am supposed to find a good girl very very soon and get married.
And, my mother has been working to this effect. I have laid down two conditions for the girl, a - she needs to be intelligent, and b - she needs to be a good house keeper, food and the works. So I am quite assured that since they will never find a woman with both of these abilities I wont get married in the next 673 years, the time it takes for a woman like that to be born out of a society much much much more mature than ours. And, if there was one like that then the rest of the women in Pakistan would make he life hell and wont accept it. So I am clear all over.
Which reminds me that the sultry, humid, windy Karachi summers are here. And along with the humidity, temprature, flies, and power breakdowns / blackouts my libido has gone through the roof. I have finally turned into a sexually deprived maniac hunting for sex like a famished Lion hunts amongst the Zebras.
I done know if you have noticed but I seem to have used animal and nature related words a lot. Thats it, no more watching Animal Planet in the hope of watching Dolphins have sex and actually trying to learn something and implement it in real life. Perverted!
Oh, and in case you didnt like this entry. I wrote a five pager at the end of which my frikking Netscape crashed. I knew technology was out to get me. But I fooled it.
It has been some time.
But then again. What is work for. All 80 work hours per week of it. And how interesting that once you start to get overworked your boss gives you a lot of space in what you are allowed to say.
But then again low quality managers, fast reducing overly weighty women and stupid tea boys aside. Work can be interesting experience. One does learn. And I am trying to give the concept of work a lot of the benefit of doubt here.
You learn that one must know about Cricket and Cars because invariably most conversations do end up suddenly within the bounds of these two topics. Topics I would rather not discuss given my complete lack of interest in both of them.
One can see by the condition of my car.
At times I don’t even lock my car. It still hast been stolen. Maybe that is due to the process one needs to follow to be able to open my car and start it.
Oh well. Another week beckons.
Tonight I went to the Karachi Film Festival. For the first time.
Good movie. Good ambiance. Good experience overall.
And, additionally so much eye candy that I had a seizure / fit and fell to the ground amidst convulsions with spit drooling out of my mouth.
I mean the percentage of delectable guys was definitely more than 33%.
Like I said, seizure / fit. And that has never happened to me before. And we are talking about me here.
So, I talked to Intellectual Intercourse Guy (IIG) today. Seems like an interesting human being.
Just not all that into sex.
Which reminds me of the wonderful Yuan Tung Special Hot and Sour soup I had today. And the horrible Fried Squid. So, if anyone tries out Yuan Tung they should order the Yuan Tung Special Hot and Sour soup and definitely steer clear of the fried Squid.
I hate squid now. Earlier on I thought it was an intelligent and beautiful creature, then it became a tasty and stupid creature, now it is just a tasteless and stupid creature.
I have over thinking.
Oh, and yes, I have learnt that I learn. I have also learnt that I am fat, ugly, disgusting, hairy and look about fifteen years older than I actually am.
Hence, I will start to exercise, eat properly, and pay attention to how I look from now onwards.
And, get a frikking hair cut and trim my fucking goatee to make me look less like Ho Chi Minh and more like a horny sex deprived maniac capable of taking you to heaven and back in 10 minutes.
Hmmmm, this blog is turning from my usual anti religious ravings into my usual sex deprived ravings.
Fuck it. All I wanna say is, wonderful weather, Pink Floyd rocks. The Invisible Pink Unicorm is beautiful, pink and invisible at the same time. And, Faiz can still make me melt over Nuskha ha e Wafa like it used to be four years from now in a far away part of the world.