Coke didn't do the trick. Nor did chai. Or the three teaspoons of sugar that i added to it. So now what. Now I want to be at a gazillion places all at once. I'll even list em for you.
Okay so, Bistro. I want to go to Bistro, sit by the heater and stare at the pretty city lights tonight. You come along, too. We'll have fries together with that bad ketchup they serve along with it.
I want to go back home. Be naraz and spend the whole night out on the porch steps. With cold coffee, of course. Or maggi with lemon.
I also want to go to Gymkhana. With Menahil. Lie there back in that golf ground, hoping to find another banana-shaped moon.
I want to go back to school. 11th grade, specifically. Make paper boats with Nahal for that dirty puddle of water next to our bench.
I want to get on that train and ride to Cali once more. Shanzay? Yeah, go pack.
I want to go to LUMS. And sit under the streetlamp. And I dont even mind being sick, Mariam.

I'm going, okay? Where? I'll let you figure that out.
Byebye.

I owe Paulo Coelho. This one, he wrote for me.

The winter air chills the tears on my cheeks. The rooftop wall is tiny, hardly three feet tall. I'm sitting against its back, ducking away from life down on the street. To hide up here is why I came. Its not much of a hiding place, though. But I like it. I like it because here I am invisible, staring down at the world below, above and around me. Nah, I'm not spying on the neighbours. Thats a Sh'ia Lebouf thing. Seen Disturbia? My mum liked that movie :o
I'm simply blogging of want of something to do. Distracting myself. And running away from mums morning lectures, of course. Know what I realized? Winter is going away. Maybe it'll take away with it the things it brought. Maybe it'll leave em behind. And I'll accept whatever it chooses to leave behind at my doorstep. Good or bad, I wont be picky. Promise.
I know, I know. I've been whining a lot in the last couple of posts. Just that, I say it here, write it all and then the hurt is gone. And then i can finally forget it. Like i keep telling you, bear with me, please.
Wait. That reminds me of something. Lemme go fetch that book.

   
     "By the River Piedra I sat down and wept... my tears fall into the cold waters that course past me. Somewhere, this river joins another, then another, until - far from my heart and sight - all of them merge with the sea.
   I am writing this story on the bank of the River Piedra. My hands are freezing,my legs are numb, and every minute I want to stop.
   That is why I write - to try to turn sadness into longing, solitude into remembrance. So that when I finish telling myself the story, I can toss it into the Piedra.
Only then - will the water extinguish what the flames have written."

I'll give you a copy of this one if you like. I added it to my list of favorites :)

Our Song?

I want to stick pins in your eyes
I pray you get a rectal rash
I hope your visa declined
Your children are blind
Get broke and have to porn for cash
Become epileptic and violently shake
Find out that you were conceived by accident
Fall out of a roller coaster
Take a warm bath with a plugged in toaster
In short
I really hope you die :D

If I have to fall, may it be from a high place.

I surrendered.
I retreated.
I gave in.
I let hurt take me, grab me by my hair and swing me.
I let fear tell me, loud and clear, that I'm not as strong as i pretend to be.
I let pain crawl onto me and tell me that numbness cant protect me.
I let the heavy tears brake down those walls around me, revealing me bare.
I let doubt wrap around me and strangle my faith.
I let life play with me. I let it do with me what it may.
I let hurt and tears, pain and all my fears steal me away.
I let them take me.
I gave in.
I surrendered.
I retreated.

This ones for you. Because? Well, because you got me thinking over it all night, too. Obviously i couldnt talk it out with anybody. It was about you, so i had no right to. Not like i knew anything anyway so there, end of story.
But alone under the covers i wondered about all the possibilities to make it right. I thought about anything and everything, reasoning with myself. Justifying you. Justifying our stupid choices. The silly mistakes that we tend to make in the matter of seconds. Like i said, be careful; Something you may do in an instant might cause you heartache for life.
The point is, its too late. Now what? I told you to forgive yourself. I take it back. I know its hard. I know because i still havent forgiven myself. I cry sometimes and let it out. I complain almost every now and then. These ideas probably just seem ridiculous to you. I wont disagree. But they help. Help me to sleep at night if nothing else.
I dunno, you just sounded hurt.
Instinctively, i wanted to make it right. Ive seen hurt unbearably close way too many times. Lost two people i loved the most. Either because of my choice or fates. Either way, it hurt the same.
I just want you to know that we may think something is unfixable but there comes a point where everything is fixable. Dont give up. As a general rule, when you lose something, you have fairly good chances of getting it back, too. Considering the fact that it was once yours, the chances are in your favor.
Besides, the whole universe does conspire to help the dreamer :)
You said you didnt need help. Not like this is much help. This is just me talking to myself. It wouldve gotten kinda long over a text message, you see :p
Nonetheless, i had to say it, you know. After all, i am half stubborn as you are.
                        Yours truly,
                        Weird Stranger.

Your Personal Party Planner :)

Maybe I'm getting better at throwing out these surprise birthday parties. I ought to pursue a career in party planning :p
So we laughed like little children. Ehab messed the cake in a bad attempt at snow spraying our faces. He even messed my hair twice, remind me to hit him for that. I asked the guys to bring along three balloons each as their entry ticket to the party. My personal joke. They actually did, it was funny. The cake was heart shaped. Made the guys crack up. They thought i was crazy. No wait, weird. They thought i was weird. One of them mentioned it was mainly cause of my constant babbling and the non-stop pleas; asking em to stay a little longer. The birthday boy was so late. But i loved my flowers, nobody bothered to ask us the secret behind those, though.
I took pictures, maybe I'll post one here for you. And i need to fish for that video, too. I actually managed to surprise him. His expression was price-less.  I fell in love with it. See, I'm not so good at reacting to surprises. It makes me angry not knowing something. So, don't surprise me with surprises, I'll end up breaking your heart :p

p.s And hey, Poophead, thanks a lot for waiting with me. I love you.

The Risk.

I'm having cornflakes, its early morning.. maybe 8 or 9? The gas heater is starting to get on my nerves, literally. My numb hands haven't warmed up the slightest bit. My fingers don't hurt anymore. The wound is pretty much healed but sometimes the cold seems to compliment it.
Today as i gulp down my cereal, a thought crosses my mind.. Ive grown up so much in this past month, more than i have in the last 18 years of my life. Like all of a sudden everything has changed. Here i am in a city where I'm setting foot for the very first time, even though i was born here.
It reminds me of these lines from my newest favorite by Paulo Coelho, "I was there because suddenly life had presented me with Life. I felt no guilt, no fear, no embarrassment."
Mariam says shes proud of me. So am I.
I wont be ungrateful, I'm happy i met life at eighteen. You too, step out and discover. I was pushed out but that's altogether quite a different story. You probably have your own story. Its hanging in the middle, incomplete. Go write it.

FINALLY SEVENTEEN? :P

Hi, Happy Birthday loser. Stupid seventeen year old. I love you, okay? yeah.
Now come over so i can sing it for you? Fine, im waiting.

In 2011...

• My fish died. The cold killed it, not Mariam.
• I cut my fingers trying to open a coke bottle.
• Rickshaws dont scare me anymore.
• Nor does traffic. 
• 30 year olds think they're young enough to ask out an 18 year old.
• Romeo and Juliet seems to interest me all over again.
• Assholes like Usman make me laugh.
• I cant dance.
• Ice-cream has lost its charm.
• I miss popsicles more than ever.

Happy New Year.