Day 4, July 2, 2015

12:20 pm

I am on a very good sleeping schedule these days. I mean, I am sleeping less and am still active throughout the day instead of dousing every few seconds. I sleep after Fajr which is 4:00 am in the morning and than wake up at 10:30 am.

Here is the problem though. I haven't been productive like I always dream to be. By that I mean, I have been watching Scandal. That is all I have been doing for the past four days. I would not mind it in normal circumstances but when your life is on the line, it kinda becomes important.

I do not know how to stop. The only way I know is to finish it.

4:38 pm

It was suggested today that I am a big spender. Unlike a loyal obedient wife, I don't save every tiny penny that comes out of my husbands pocket. Instead, I get late night ice creams and eat out on weekends. I buy shoes, clothes and books. I indulge in things that I shouldn't. I spend money when instead I should be saving it to buy property, build houses in Pakistan and buy Gold as a means of saving. Property that will sit there as some sort of back up, houses I will never live in and Gold that will sit in a bank locker only to be weighed and paid Zakat for, every year.

First of all, I don't think that I am a big spender. If I look back on this year, my biggest expense would probably be my books. All of whom are paid by the pocket money I receive. I have bought one pair of shoes, that also in sale. Its not because I could not. Its because I did not need any more shoes. I already have a lot.

The one thing I did go all out on was Abdullah's wardrobe. And trust me, that needed updating. Because it looked like a homeless person's wardrobe where half the clothes didn't fit him and half weren't even his. So, yes. I did buy a lot of stuff. Because I like men to be well dressed. They deserve to.

I am pretty proud of myself for the fact that I have controlled the way I spend money and have bought things that I know I will use. So when you hear someone tell you that what you are doing is wrong. It hurts like a bitch.

It makes you realize the mistake you have made of considering your husbands money as your own. It makes you hate yourself for getting married before finishing your studies, before standing on your own feet, before being independent enough to not listen to someone slap you across your face with words.

The worst part is that we did save money. And we spent it, doing something good for them.

People say that I don't have responsibilities. That's why I can spend money on things like food and clothes. As if living with In laws was not the biggest responsibility ever.

Nonetheless, let me make one thing every clear.

Even when I am responsible for feeding, clothing and educating my family, I am not going to spend money buying houses in places I do not know whether I will live in or not. Instead, I will continue eating out on weekends. And watching movies. And going bowling. I won't buy heaps of gold to add to my stash. Instead, I will be taking a vacation. Somewhere out of country, where my kids will get to experience different cultures and acquire knowledge. I will be spending on Disneyland tickets, ice skating rinks and seeing the view from top of the Burj Khalifa. That is how I will be fulfilling my responsibilities.

And if need be, I will be okay to cut down on all these things. But don't for a second think that I will deprive myself and my family the chance to live a life in the moment in order to make a life in the future.

I have been blessed enough that I was given a lot of things on my wedding. And I intend to keep those as my saving. I don't need a lesson in saving money for the hard times. I don't need to be told to keep it in control.

If there was one thing I was taught, that was to spend what is my budget. And believe me when I say that, even when I am buying a double scoop ice cream, I know that its in my budget. You can set your own budget. You can set rules for how you have spent your life and want to continue doing so.

But please, I don't agree with your views. Please, let me set my own budget. For once, let me do what I want. Let me be who I want to be.

Adieu !

SAP
............

Day 3, July 1, 2015

Here is the thing. I love birthdays. I love buying flowers, blowing up balloons, spending 5 hours baking and decorating a cake, buying the perfect gift, wrapping it Pinterest worthy and then surprising the person in question. I love all that. And I try to do that for everyone. At least family members.

The problem is fitting these celebrations has become a challenge in my budget. Not that I ever have a budget. I try to be all sophisticated and save money. But I end up using Abdullah's card on everything then. Technically that is still saving. Anyway, I was just figuring out in my head the various upcoming birthdays, welcome backs and congratulations. And it dawned upon me that I am going to end up in debt even before the month is up.

Story of my life.

I do not know why I am in love with it. But I am. And I would not have it any other way.

I didn't do much today. I went to Ikea and ended up coming back empty handed. Which is no small accomplishment, I tell you. I love Ikea. My first visit was to the one in Jeddah as a tween. I loved it back then and I still love it now. I love how you can take so many individual pieces from all across the shop and create something beautiful out of it. It is one of those shops that lets your creative side free to dance around and throw paint on the wall.

I have a weird obsession with house makeovers. It is like a guilty pleasure. Looking at different people's personality through how they decorate the room is a fascinating thing. Although, you would never know that it is my room if you looked at the one I have now. Me and Abdullah always joke that we are like a bunch of lazy laid back people who live in a grey/black/white themed room with fancy candle holders on our side tables. Its when you open our side tables and see the mess of headphones, coins, diaries, all sorts of junk that you get who occupies the room.

Sometimes I feel like my head is too big for my own good. As in, I get distracted so easily because I have another great idea. But then I am forced to be grateful for having an idea in the first place.

Adieu !

SAP

........

Day 2, June 30, 2015

1:29 pm.

I started reading Out Of The Easy by Ruta Sepetys. It is so hard to pronounce her name. I read about the book on Pretty Books blog. She is a huge fan of both of her books. And this was the one I got my hands on. So far I really like it.

It is based in New Orleans. New Orleans is such an intriguing city. I first came across it in Vampire Diaries and then the Originals because Klaus and his family are from there and the story is based on that town. It is portrayed as such a cultural city with a bit of mystery hanging in the air. And that really makes me want to visit it. Some cities are famous for their landmarks which makes people flock on it from all the over the world. But New Orleans sounds like a landmark itself. It is known for its nightlife and the flow of music.

7:25 pm

I feel much better than yesterday. Still feel a bit woozy, other than that all is well.

I was talking to Abdullah about how the past few months, I have been focused on what clothes to wear to a party, recipe to try out, family feud to sort out or celebrate some occasion. A friend made me see the intellectual person in me after getting in heated discussion. Someone who had opinions about The Stanford Prison Experiment conducted in 1960. Someone who could prove her point. Someone who loved acquiring knowledge. It is not that I don't like makeup or to get all dolled up. Its just that I like being smart much more. I like to balance a bank reconciliation.

We all perceive ourselves in different ways. Some are content with one thing while other spend their lives hunting after dozens of things. It comes down to how you want to see yourself. Do you want to be a pretty face in a friends wedding ? Or do you want to be representing a friend ? Or maybe you want to be both. Maybe you are okay being neither of the two.

11:59 pm

Just came back from polishing off a Stuffed Crust Pizza with a Berry Mohito. The traffic on the roads is insane. Its like Qatar just learnt that there is a thing called having a life. I am going to go into hibernation so I don't have to face the horrific traffic everywhere.

Good luck to everyone who still has to shop for Eid.

Adieu !

SAP
............

Letters To The Moon # 7

Dear Moon,

Apparently, not knowing whether your husband is wearing the new shoes or not is also a crime in the married world.

I need some answers from these so called Desi mothers of ours. Why the hell do you bring up your kids so dependent on you ? They are independent enough to study in international universities, go to work at world renown companies but are not able to match their ties with shirts. How ? And why ? How is it a wife's responsibility to pick up his clothes off the floor ? Or call him every two hours to ask if he had breakfast, lunch etc ? Is he not sane enough to go and eat by himself ? or is he incapable of doing that ?

Please let your kids grow up. Let them do things on their own. Stop doing things for them. You are just creating problems. Nothing else.

You are just creating a grown up child who still wants his mommy at every step of the way. If you want to do that, do it by all means. Do not marry them then. Girls are not lying around waiting to care whether your son has new shoes on or not. Nor are they in a line to get ready every day for your son.

We have lives of our own. Lives we would like to live. We have personalities, habits, hobbies. Our lives are not because of your sons. We are made to parade around them like some sort of peacocks. We have to make sure that we love what they love. And eat what they eat. If they like chocolate and heaven forbids, we don't, that should be declared a crime, punishable by 5 years in jail.

In life, there comes a time, when you have to let go of your kids. If you try to hold onto them, tying the strings tighter, knot after knot, eventually they will break off these ties and go their way. You will be left behind wondering what you did wrong. On the other hand, letting them live their lives will mean that they include you in it as well. They give you the place and love you want and deserve.

Let that love be from the heart. Let it be pure.

Don't try to force something that can never be forced upon.

Yours always,

S

P.S. One day, I will actually say it to people's faces, till then let us just be content with this.

Inside Jokes

Its the little snippets that you share with a loved one, locked in a bathroom or a hello every morning with that cute stranger in the coffee line on your way to work. 

Its that stupid cup cake bra of Katy Perry's that you made fun off. And the month after that which consisted of your conversations, starting with or including cupcakes and Katy Perry. And now everytime someone mentions those Sugary Delights, you search for your friend in the crowd and burst out laughing. Or your remember her with her incredibly loud cheerful laugh. And smile longingly at that memory. 

Its that moment when you see a pretty looking building in the middle of a restaurant hub and you ask whether that's a restaurant as well. You are looked at incredulously and are told that its some rich Sheikhs grave. Apparently the Souq is named after him. And you believe him. And than point out his stupidity when in fact you were the fool all along. 

Its those moments that no one else except that one person will understand. Someone other than them will never find cupcakes as hilarious or get the meaning of your hello. 

Because its not for them. 

You are lucky if you have those. 

Moments. Inside jokes. Not the friends. 

It doesn't matter who the person is. 

Stranger or foe. A memory has been made for life. A joke formed. 

And that person all of a sudden has been embedded in your mind. 

Every time you pass that restaurant, those expressions will be on your mind. His crooked nose, him doubling over in laughter while crossing the intersection will play in front of you. 

That time you walked home all the way from Villagio and was nearly killed at the traffic lights. The "I told you so" plus the death glares you got from that family friend will be remembered.

Or the time you and your brother made an elaborate story of your other sibling stealing Raisins from your Grandma's cupboard to give to his five year old girlfriend. No one else other than the three of you will find it funny. 

These cannot be made. 

Or talked. 

They are spontaneous. 

Instant. 

You cannot force them. 

It happens when it happens. 

Or it doesn't happen at all. 

You are in luck if it does. 

...SAP...

30 Day Writing Challenge, Day 1

The other day I was telling my friend, how my writing has become more of a reality show script than what I wanted. So I decided to take matters into my own hands and try out one of the writing challenges. Because I want to write fiction. I saw a couple of challenges and this 30 Day Writing Challenge stood out the most.

So that is what I will be doing for this month.

Day 1 —Select a book at random in the room.  Find a novel or short story, copy down the last sentence and use this line as the first line of your new story.

The book I chose was The Girl Who Played With Fire by Steig Larsson, mainly because it was on my side table. 

She was going to need it, or she would die.

He thought about all the things that had gone wrong in his calm and serene life.

Three days ago, he was sitting in Germany, Skyping with his kids back home and telling them that he had gotten the i-pod and the American Girl doll, that they wanted. He had asked about her, but she was busy making dinner. So obviously, he did not persist and talked to the rest of his family and than went to sleep.

And now here he was, sitting on the cold hospital bench, hands clenching his throbbing forehead, being told that it was over. Unless some miracle happened.

She was going to need everyone's prayers.

Their story was very simple. They had met through family friends and had instantly liked each other. He had introduced her to his parents, thinking that they would reject her but they had liked her more than him. After that it was a matter of months.

They had gotten engaged among family and friends, all the time being told how lucky they were to marry the one they loved.

After an year came Mehndi, Baraat and the reception. Again they were looked upon as a very fortunate couple.

And now, ten years later, they had two beautiful kids, a well decorated house and an incredible partner.

They had everything.

Until that damned driver, who had shattered their perfect mirror of a life in 5 minutes and a single turn.

Now she lay in that spotless white bed, hooked up to a million machines, tubes going in and out of her, after giving up on him and their life together.

He sat there, cold and helpless, waiting for his worst fears to be confirmed and the tears to flow, wondering how his luck had changed in ten years.

...SAP...

A Day In Jail

How would you describe your feelings if you were stranded in a plane for 12 hours ? Your 3 and a half hour flight turned into an 18 hour flight ?

Lets start with us boarding our flight which was at 8:30 pm. We boarded the plane early at 7:45 pm.

The first tragedy that happened was that the flight was delayed. It was a connecting flight for a lot of people from US, Europe and even KSA. Some of these flights were not on schedule so we had to wait for them.

Our plane finally took off at 9:30 pm.

We were assured that we would arrive at Allama Iqbal Airport at 3:00 in the morning now.

On route to Lahore, while we were passing Karachi, I had the misfortune of saying, Amma lets get off here and do a little sight seeing.

As luck would have it, when we reached Lahore, there was fog and the weather was so horrible that the plane kept circling for an hour and than headed back to Karachi.

We landed there with an amused expression and an air of adventure. Because we were ready to get out of the plane, see the airport and just do something.

Well, turns out we had to stay in the plane because they were expecting the conditions to improve within the hour. And we would have headed back at 7:00 clock maximum. We had landed there at 4:30.

We would get an update every hour and reassurance that the plane would fly in an hour. But we stayed in the plane. And here we were planning a sight seeing tour in Karachi.

The weather conditions improved at about 11:00 clock and our plane finally took off at 12:30. By now I felt like I had just come from Australia not a three hour flight from Qatar.

Talk about mishaps. I have NEVER ever in my life even when I have been awake for 48 hours, felt this bad.

To make matters even worse than they could be, someone tried to snatch my Louise Vuitton bag and it broke in a snap. But thank God, it wasn't stolen considering every valuable thing from phone to camera to ten different connecting wires were in it.

The minute we step of the plane and after checking out, taking our luggage, we see a mass of people surrounding me. In plane words, we had arrived on the airport which looks like a Fish market.

And the day ended by my Taya picking us up and asking, " So how did your day in jail go ? Hopefully, you won't want to go there again."

P.S. The best or worst part was that it was nobody's fault. 

........

Home Is Where The Heart Is

Its been four years since our last move and I have to say that I had forgotten the chaos that comes with it. My house looks like a frat house right now. Piles of clothes lie here and there, cartons have engulfed every inch of the space, keys have been lost, the trash pile is larger than the things we actually need, arguments are going on on what to keep and dispose off ( my mom wants to throw everything) and any attempt at making the house cleaner ends up making it more messy.

After taping and labeling a carton, we find something that has to specifically go that in one. Than we have to open it up again. Its a disaster. We only have two days left till the moving day and let me tell you that only our store has been packed and the books of the house, which occupy more space than rest of the things combined. Abbu had a fit seeing so many books. And he uttered the words "ban" and "books" in the same sentence. I said, lets not go there, my dear daddy. Because more than half are yours.

What I love about moving houses is that you have an excuse for everything. Didn't do your homework. Moving houses. Didn't callback a friend. Moving houses. Missed dental appointment. Moving houses. Ordered pizza three times in a week. Moving houses. Its awesome. And it works every single time.

Its a little weird though. In a way, we don't have a single house to call home. So we make every one of the houses we live in, our home. And you get attached to it. But the fun part is that you have numerous houses all over the continents to call your home.

This house like many before, has been our home. It has seen us BBQ countless times on the roof, than counting the stars in the sky, running upstairs like its a marathon to watch the fireworks. My favourite corner where I have sat, blinded by sunlight, drinking coffee and writing something. The wall that is covered with my incomplete sketches of the Doha Skyline, Huzaifa's disastrous writing on top of it and Moawiz's creepy hand drawn men crawling all over it. Me and Muaaz dancing like we are possessed, in the cold November rains. Our endless arguments on who will sweep the garage floor. The crazy idea we had of painting it ourselves and we did do it.

I sincerely hope that we pack everything and still have our body parts working. Because right now, we look like gypsies who have parked their caravans on the country side and thrown everything in it.

Good luck to you and to us !

Adieu !

S

.......

Be A Little Warmer

A few days back, Moawiz asked Amma,

"We are going to Pakistan. Will there be snow there ? "

"Yes, there will be snow," said my mom.

"So, there will be a Santa Claus and Christmas there ?", he asked with a very excited face. 

My mom started laughing and explained to him what Christmas is and that we don't celebrate it. But other people do. And he informed by mom about all the latest Christmas traditions. 

"So I won't be able to play in the snow ?"

My mom explained that snow is not just for Christmas. And that you can play how much ever you want. 

After a few days, my mom was telling this to someone over the phone. And the reply stunned me. That aunty went on to say, " How does your son know so much about Christmas ? Has he turned Christian ?"

My mom got really pissed and clarified that he watched a lot of cartoons, so he knows a lot of different things. And that he is 7. Than we all sat down and told Moawiz not to say something like this in front of certain people because the reaction is very bad. 

This got me thinking. When I was growing up, I had all different sorts of friends. Which included Non Muslim friends. And it was awesome. We respected their religion. They respected ours. They celebrated our festivals like their own even when we hesitated to do the same. But who can say no Christmas cookies and Chocolate Hazelnut fudge ?  It was a treat to see them wear Magenta coloured Pakistani clothes, arms covered with Mehndi and bangles, eating spicy food and asking for second helpings. 

Even in Pakistan, there was a Canadian family who lived right in front of my Khala's house in Rawalpindi. And I have grown up playing with there kids and the huge dog. I have baked cookies with them and decorated their Christmas tree. I have had bicycle races with them, popped firecrackers on Independence day while covered in Green and White and had Judy Aunty make us the best Strawberry Jam in the world. 

Some of the best people I have known, over the years are from different religions, different Nationalities, culture, traditions and what not. But even now there is no acceptance of the fact that two people with different religions can live in harmony and be friends. People will have their kids study in an American or British school because the studies are better. But the minute someone invites you to their Halloween party, its a disaster. Why ? 

Growing up abroad has had so many advantages. One of it being that you end up learning a lot about other religions. And you love them all the same. You know your beliefs and their limits, so you know not to cross them. But you also know to respect others and their religion like you would expect them to do with yours. So its give and take. 

Have you ever made hot chocolate with real chocolate ? If you have, than you will know that chocolate doesn't mix with the milk unless its melted and the milk is also warm. So they both have to do their two very different jobs to make one delicious drink. This is not that different than that. Learn to be a little warmer. 

......

Dear Diary

Yesterday, I was studying and I glanced over at Moawiz. He was writing something in a neon green diary. And when I saw what he was writing, I was exhilarated. He was writing a diary. He had written the date at the top and had described his day, all on his own.

I started writing diary when I was in 6th grade. Than I stopped writing. I picked up the pen again in 8th grade when I thought that life was cruel which it really was not. But I guess it was for a 13 year old. Ahhhhh ! The life of a 13 year old.

 Anyway, my diary found me writing in it once again in 9th grade. So my relationship with it is very on and off type. When things seem very hard, I write in my diary. When things are awesome and I cannot contain my happiness, I write it down. And like an everlasting companion, my diary is always there to welcome me with open arms, never complaining for abandoning it. I have to say that I probably have more diaries than I write in. What can I say ? I love diaries. Especially when there is leather, quotes and keys involved.

I am amazed that Moawiz wants to write a diary. Its an amazing habit which contributes to so much when you grow up. I hope that he follows this through. And that someday, I can tell him all about this day.

P.S. Please excuse my horrendous photography. :D

...SAP...

That One Moment

It was our 2nd year farewell a few days back. And it went perfect. Well, almost perfect. Things seem to shake up a little bit when we as in me and my friends are the ones doing everything. I guess its the way we work or the ideas we materialise.

Me and Muteeba had decided to do Spoken Word Poetry inspired by Sarah Kay. Honestly, we have never done anything together. Never. Ever. In the past six years that we have been friends, we have taken a lot of sides, fought fights, stood up for people, done things but never really done anything for ourselves. Just the two of us against the world. Or something. We never had a chance and we never made one. So we thought that we should perfect a moment that will portray our friendship for the rest of our lives. And I can proudly say that we succeeded.

Believe me, a confident person like me was about to give up. Because I sucked that much while practising. We had one day to practise it and it was going very bad. Very very bad. But all that did not matter on the stage. I was there with the one person who has truly defined friendship for me. So everything else just vanished. I felt like it was complete. It was perfect. At least for me it was. And I kept thinking that this is the first and last time I am doing this with her. We did it, with the mistakes that only we know, with similes in every sentence and with the friendship that we have shared for so many years. That moment I realise that I had done something right in my life to be blessed with such an amazing friend. That day I was truly grateful for what I have.

I feel like I never really got to beat somebody up for making fun of her or something. I did get to do that for others but never really her. You know, feel your blood rushing to your face for punching someone who had just insulted your best friend. Never really got to do that. Do not get me wrong. We have always had each others back. That is not even for anyone to question. But something was missing and we found that. Because we were on the stage doing a combination of all the things that we love. Words, poetry, books, writing, similes, chocolate, food, horses and most of all friendship. These are just a few. But that one moment was beyond perfect for me.

P.S. Muteeba, if life ever gives me a chance to punch someone for you, I promise I will. Although you would probably have had that person onto his knees by then.

...SAP...

That One Book

You know how there is that one thing in your life, just an ordinary object that reminds you of your whole life. It holds so many memories that your whole life is associated with it and you think that it is the symbol that represents you and your life.

My thing is obviously  a book. But its not just any book. Its the book. It is just a writing book that teaches you how to write in cursive. We have had that forever. It holds a very honourable place in my cupboard so whenever I look at it, all the memories associated with it flood my mind. My mom had always believed that cursive writing is the right or main writing of English. Like it represents English. So, me and my brothers were taught cursive and their were very strict rules about writing anything in simple hand writing. As far as I remember I didn't even know how to write in other than cursive, till like 9th grade. Even now when I write in simple writing, my mom gives me her 'I do not approve of this' look and she goes all like, I cannot believe I taught you cursive and you are writing this. I still remember the first time I wrote in simple font in front of her, she was like, what happened to your writing ? Like she has discovered that I have cancer or something and I felt like I just robbed a bank.

Growing up I always got tons of remarks on my writing and everyone wanted to write like me. I basically used to get Marvellous on my notebooks because of my writing. I remember, before moving to Qatar, there was this National Level Writing Competition in which the style of our writings were suppose to be evaluated and I obviously took part but I knew I won't win because there was this other student who was really good and her writing was simple. Last day in my school, I am handed an envelope and I open it to find that I had won that competition. Thing was everybody had told me that I won't win because I was leaving school and all but I did end up winning and I loved every minute of it.

Its pages are yellow and worn out from age but it just holds that many more memories. Whenever I look at, its like looking back at my childhood. You see now whenever I write something and I get compliments on my articles I think of that book. Because that is the book which had a role in making me who I am today. There is only one thing in my life that I am sure of more than anything and that is my writing. That yes, I have the ability to put my thoughts into words and maybe bring the words to magic. So in future when my first book will come out and I will sign it, I will think of this book. My first book that made me.

I hope that one day I can pass it on to the coming generations of my family and someday it will create another person like it made me. Its one of those things who are always special to you and are near your heart.

...SAP...