Ups and downs in life. Right?
The most challenging is the down.
The low. Especially when you're struggling to find a reason why it happened to you.
Then it feels like there wasn't any "up" in the first place. Ever.

Mickey.

W. Seriously man,what happened? What was that all about? From talking almost every day to texts dwindling more and more in June. And now I have a fear of texting you because I don't like receiving one or two word texts from people who gave me conversations as deep as the sea. You are the only person in the world that I know will be there for me even if we haven't talked in ages. Who can spin talks and laugh so hard and show me all this love without feeling anything romantic.

You,nobody else,would send me a slice of Masoom's cake all the way from Islamabad 'just cuz'. And TCS me a jar of Davidoff's best house blend coffee because I told you two nights before that I've had nothing but Nescafe in my life. Or listen to my 4 hour rants about H without interrupting once. They were really four hours long. So long,and you made them feel like minutes.

I've seen your genuine smiles when I come over to Islamabad or you to Lahore. Whenever we meet we have these huge smiles. My cheeks hurt. Its funny because we all say Aoa to a thousand people a day and it means nothing. But all we say to each other is 'Hey', and we get happy.

Carom. Ludo. Blair Witch project. The G-8 park at 6am. So many words and subjects and topics. To talk about.

I sometimes wish you weren't so against hugging. Because if I could,I would everytime. You are a complete double edged sword and you go off into the wilderness at times but you always come back. With a bang. A text,rather. Leading into a phone call.

Profs are ending tomorrow. I'm adding you in my FnF since I have a new Warid sim. And I'm calling you. And I'll listen to everything you say. But please stop this bullshit of ignorance. I don't know why you're doing it and I used to care but now I don't. Let's talk. Deeply. 

Altered sensorium.

I don't know how it happened, but it did.
A couple of brownies here and there, and then my heart's racing. And I can't sleep. And everything feels completely unreal. People are walking in front of me, and you think it's all a lie. I'm telling people I'm not crazy, and I wish they'd stop laughing. In my head, I'm talking perfectly fine. To others, I'm slow as hell. Thing is, they know exactly what's happening to me, and I'm stuck in this whirl of clouds thinking "This feeling is going to last forever." "I'm going to die for sure." "My heart's going to explode from shivering."
Now, I have more confirmation than any other that getting high is so overrated. Definitely not recommended if you have a darker side to you, a meaner, evil side. You need to be nice and happy to enjoy it. And friends around too.
And to have it in between profs. Shit. I'm loosening up a little too much, aren't I?
It's over. And I don't want it again. And I honestly have the coolest supportive people in the world. All the way from H smelling it and laughing, to M saying It's perfectly normal, I'll come by tomorrow, and check on you (And she did. She left a few hours ago. And we watched Vines and cuddled in blankets and talked about every shitty thing under the sun). And Kt, being right there when I was too afraid to sleep for fear that I'll die. Haha.
I want a Domino's pizza so badly right now. Veggie Feast.
Nobody judged. Or passed a sarcastic comment or said anything. And they have no idea how much I love them for it.

Okay, forgetting all the sappy stuff. Prof vivas and practicals are happening, and I'm smack dab in the middle of them. I had four days to study for the Pathology viva, and I've wasted one and a half just getting over myself. And sleeping. Alot. ALOT. 14 hours straight.
New friend. N. She's from college, but not in the same group. I have needed and depended on her so much during these exams. I couldn't have gone through them without her. I'm going to call her after this. So lost about what to study.

I have another blog post completely ready to write about, but for later.
Cheers to a first. (:

Today of all days.

Small little insecurities.
All join up and form big complexes.
These are the things everyone needs to work on, rather than your careers, your future. You're not going to have a future if you can't clear out your emotional clutter. It could be about physical appearance, about wealth, about anything. You're never truly free unless and until you work on this.

Trust. I hate that word. I hate it because it means that I'll have to believe someone without proof. People can change, you know. Within a day. A second, even. I believe that. I believe, that except for my family, people will betray me, somehow, someway. I can't trust. Everybody thinks I'm candid, open. Whatever I do tell people, it's things that don't matter to me at all.
I wish I could stack up every phone call, every word, every sentence that an individual has said and use that as the reason to trust them. But that's not always the case. You need to go with your instinct, and you need to remember that everybody has their bad days. What they do then, or what they do sparingly, isn't who they are. Especially when you've known them for so long.

I don't trust people. And even though I must have 15 insecurities lined up in my mind, that's the one I have to fight to get rid of.

Intermittent noise.

Exams are over, and then again, they're not. Because all I have is 20 days till the first prof exam. Everyone non-medical is telling me to relax about it, but you don't know, do you? 20 days, is 10 days in medical speak. Just half of everything, and twice the course. It's a gandi feeling, and I don't plan on studying today either, so that cuts down one more day. Oh well.
I love breakfast because I make it myself, no matter what it is. And breakfast recipes are the best, and easiest. Omelet, sandwiches, baaqar khaani, chai rusk. Love em all. I want to have all of this today.
I also want to have Italian food for lunch everyday until I'm sick of it.
Life is one long train ride nowadays, and it's past the feeling where you like the ride and you want to sit there. Now, I just feel like getting off. I mean, trying new things, and diversifying life. I didn't mean suicide. Did you think I meant that? No.
For the first time in my life, I really want to get a job and earn my own money. I have this urge to be financially independent. The times when Dad puts money in my ATM is the happiest of times. It's not just shopping, I'm not all selfish. I like being on the way home, and seeing a fruit mandi, and buying fruit for the house, just because I feel like it. Or shopping at the mall, and buying a pair of Converse sneakers, because the littlest sister has been obsessing over them. I still owe Kt a pair of sunglasses since I lost the ones she bought from Dubai. She still hasn't stopped bothering me about it and hasn't failed to repeat a thousand times that she can never get sunglasses like those.
I've been listening to 22 by Taylor Swift and Icona Pop's I Love It on repeat for two days. The fix nowadays.
I'm gonna go make a beautiful timetable and stick to it.That'll make me content for now.

P.S. It's the 5 year anniversary. And I'm sitting here writing a blog post. Fill in the blanks for yourself.

Holding my fist to my head.

Stop fighting.
For God's sakes, grow up and stop fighting, and stop avoiding each other too, when you're at it.
This is turning out to be one miserable, endless loop that I don't want to be stuck in.
I have send ups from Monday, dammit. And my brain is just stuck on today and its events.
This has got to stop. Something, someone has to give in. Make life better. God, I hate this.

And I don't hate alot of things. I like my life the way it is. I learn to live with almost anything. A friend said once "Tumhaari bardaasht bohat hai." Threshold high as hell.
But when it falls, it buries.

Hey you.
Stop living your life for yourself and me for mine.
Let's entwine. Again.

The final song.

Before Sunrise, Before Sunset, Before Midnight.

Movies are supposed to be good, not worthwhile. There's too much in our lives, in this generation, to deal with for a movie to impact us. But this trilogy did. This is not a movie review.
I never saw love as anything but a path leading to marriage. I won't call it naivete, I'll call it blindness. You love someone, not crazily, not obsessively, but deeply, down to the lowest trenches of your heart. You can feel depths volumize every word you speak to him. It all carries so much weight. He matters, means so much. You're calm but still. You're not. And you think I want this forever.
Marriage is a colossal collision. I loved saying that. It's red, blue, green, yellow paint all being thrown together and not caring whether you made a mess or a masterpiece. Kids, schedules, clash of timings, is the food ready, can we afford this, can you go pick them up today, I don't have time for this.
I don't want this forever.
I want to remember the good things, the sparks. I don't want to fall in the flames. I don't want to marry the one I love. Because it will ruin everything. 
I think I just learned what acceptance feels like.

Everything is an illusion.

It's Sehri time. Life feels so normal this way now, staying up till 3am. But when I see that dark blue sky after an hour or two, then that's my cue to hit the hay. And wake up with a sleep headache.
Enjoying light comedy nowadays. 30 Rock. I don't have anything to fall back on after this. Maybe that's for the better.
I had a friend, back in school. O Levels. Let's call her Z. She was my best friend, really close. And just because of our age, immaturity, and her ego, we had a massive fight in front of the whole class, and never spoke to each other again. At a reunion last year, I hoped that we silently buried the hatchet in our heads and would act like decent civil human beings. I was certainly ready to. And when I came close to meeting her, she got up and walked towards the bathroom. I realized then that it wasn't because of our age that we fought some 7 years back. She is, was, and will still be, immature. Though I do miss her.
School was a kaleidoscope of everything. I was definitely that "OMG! He's sooo cuuute" girl. I crushed on many guys. All they needed was spiked hair and sagging jeans. One of them is now a singer in Karachi and comes on Radio FM91 now and then. Another runs major art projects around the city. I sure do know how to pick 'em.
I crushed on H too, but I never saw it heading anywhere. Look how that turned out, haha.
And drama. So much of it. And rebellion. I was this close to being expelled. Instead, I was suspended. And failing tests was a regular.
I wish I knew how I got my act together so I could give advice to people about it.
Now, there's none of that in me. No cute boys, no rebel, no failing. I'm this straitlaced person now. Unbelievable in my eyes.
 Kicking the habit of biting nails is so hard, crazy hard. Struggling.
Going to make a list of the people who can see my full profile on Facebook. Later.

My deconstructed day + summer so far.

• I have a 10$ bill in my black and white dotted wallet. I've had it since 2005, when the dollar was 57 rupees. Now it's at the 100 rupee mark, but I can't bring myself to convert it. I've thought about it a hundred times, in a hundred different places. At a store, when I really wanted that bag. Or at the Duty Free, when it could get me another box of chocolates. But it's still there. I find it amusing that I could keep it in there for so long, when I'm usually very capricious with my money, and where it goes.
•   The weather affects everyone's mood. Let's all accept it and avoid our worst tempered friends when the sun is blazing. And then laugh and play in the rain together when it comes.
• I'm not excited about summer vacations. At all. I won't have to wake up at 6am anymore, but I'll probably be isolated most of the time, and sitting at home. Especially since Ramadan starts  a few days after the vacations do. So, all my time will be for that.
• Every day, wake up with a new purpose.
• A friend's laptop broke a couple of days back. The Shahbaz Sharif ones that we got. It makes me so grateful that my laptop is alive, because I put it through absolute hell, every day. I do not deserve this.
• Pharmacology presentation left, and then it's all classes. That's a relief.
• Third year professional exams scare me more than the first two professionals I gave. I'm scared right now even though the damn thing is 3 months away. Aargh, worry wart I am.
• My Milo and milk is in the freezer getting cold. I'm anticipating it.
• Words are beautiful. The people who write them aren't, necessarily.
• Quit nail biting habit regimen. Not successful, I keep on doing it in the deepest subconscious way. I am so annoyed at myself; how can I not know when I'm doing it?
• House season 6. Then all the way to 8, then Game of Thrones, then anything else I can get my hands on. 
• I can touch my toes now. I couldn't before. I realized, my body is a creaky machine. It is not flexible in the slightest and I do the bare minimum. I need to be more healthy.
• Didn't take enough pictures for third year. Hm. Now, third year of med school is summarizing in my head this last week. The ups and the downs, the best points and the worst.
• I want to stop talking less, and listening more. I'm a horrendous listener.

Within the timespan of a song.

There's tension, right? Stress.
To me, it's black and white, like everything else is.

White tension: The project deadline, the test in a few days, the hours before getting ready to go somewhere. Tension that can be easily distributed and you know you're on the right path and you'll get it done. So everything's okay, even amidst the tension, because you're doing something about it. Unless you're not. That's a different story. That's not me.

Black tension: The one the sticks like silk. Where the object of tension is swirling about in your head so much that days feel like they passed by, when they haven't. You walk, you talk, you smile, you stare, you fill your head. But it's still there.

Black nowadays.

The deep end.

Countdown.
It's the first, but not the last. And definitely the scariest.
I feel like everyone's sexist and reiterating "but beta, you HAVE to get married someday no?"
Whenever we look at brides/fiancees, we think 'They must be so happy.'
There's only one word for this feeling, and it isn't happy.
It's complete, and utter confusion.
Afraid to take a step forward, and don't know how to look back.
And, either willingly or unwillingly, moving your life to fit around the day your baat happens.
I feel weird. Not physically ill. But just...out of it.
I'd rather be studying Pathology and making my Forensic copy.
I'm not ready.

Trails.

"I don't know about you, but...I don't think I'll ever stop talking to you. You're my best friend. Even if we're not together, I think I'll still keep in contact with you. No. I will keep in contact with you."

In my head: It's crap, it's all crap, don't believe it, he waits till now to say things like this, it's crap crap crap.

Last of the first.

One memory that sticks like glue, all the time, every time.
Getting dropped off to Pizza Hut with my sister, and starting to order. Asking which toppings are halaal and which haraam. The  Egyptian guy behind the counter, cautiously flirting, because he can see Dad standing behind me. "Where are you from? Pakistan or India?" 
K and me in unison: "Pakistan." "Ohh, no wonder you both are so pretty." Nervous laughter.
"Well, in that case, you can have any topping. Everything is khalaal."
"I'd like to visit Pakistan one day. Islamabad."
Two large pizzas, don't remember the toppings. Salad, soda, bread. Picked up by friends and taken to Manzar Beach. Everything sounds normal,picnic-like.

Except that it is past midnight, and the desert night air is chilly to the bone. There's a surprise blanket in the trunk, which we spread out near the shore. The water is inky black, you can't see anything. But I can feel it. Everyone's already started opening up the boxes, and Mom is calling me to eat. But I can't, really I can't. The wind and the sand and the middle of the night is all too cliche and overrated and just perfect. I wouldn't have minded even if I ended up only with half a slice. Being there, walking along the wet sand with not a single worry. No college duties, no exams, nothing with H. Nothing. Lightheaded.
It's getting colder by the minute, and my cardigan isn't thick enough. So I end up sitting on the blanket and munching on pizza while staring straight ahead at the buoys bouncing on the water.

Across the "pseudobeach" are lights, glowing. Of the city. And the sound of lapping water is the only thing I hear. These moments fill me up. I let them fill me up. Nothing is comparable to this.

Oh, Dubai.

Slip into rhythm.

Today I collided two of my worlds. My college life and my personal life regarding H. Merged them. With a few sentences about what's going on at the other side. I realised, I didn't like it at all. Before, I only separated everything because I felt it would be easier to deal with things that way. Now I realized I separated it because I didn't want the crisis/dilemma/problem of one part of my life, to affect the other. And now that my friends know things, it feels like it's a global issue.
It was something  I had to do. Because we've been a group for 2 and a half years, after all. Regardless of all the superficial parhai/outings/clothes talk, we were still close in a way. So I decided to let them in a little. It wasn't awkward, and reactions were what I expected. But now, all that's going through my head is "They know."
College is a sort of an escape for me. No matter how tough or strange things are at home or with H, college is that one place, that outlet where I could shut all of it out. Turn it off for awhile, and make my mood better with friends and food and things to keep me busy. And then, when I leave all happy and satisfied, life's other problems seem easier to deal with.

I love compartmentalization. I'm going to do it as often as I can. It makes my head feel organized. Inner tranquility.

Blogging about the insane, boiling heat isn't going to make it go away. So I won't. But I will say that it is SO HOT that we Lahoris should be considered brave. Actual heroes. For bearing with this. (49 degrees. Forty. Nine)

Health issues are resolved, which is definitely a yay! moment. It was a kidney stone. All that pain, damn. I felt like dying those days. There was a point where I didn't even care about the diagnosis, I just wanted an injection to kill the pain. Everyone should make a special prayer that they never have to feel kidney stone pain. It is so horrendous, and everywhere, and deep, that it makes you think "Something is eating me from inside". And getting it massaged only makes it worse. Nauseating type pain.

I'm extremely behind on all my college work, and I have about 5% of prep for a Microbiology test on Monday. I should be studying for it right now, but I'm shoving ALL of the work for tomorrow, Sunday. Allah, please don't let guests come over tomorrow. They'll distract me. And let me pass the test too.

I'm going to go read other blogs now. And watch House.





 

I need a stranger I can disengage.

I wish I could say that I was lost, or my mind was jumbled up, but it wasn't. And it's not even the extremely-busy thing either (though I have had multitudes of things piling up). I just...backed off. Anti-social for awhile. Wouldn't even reply to people's audio whatsapps or maintain friendships that I really do treasure alot. The satisfying part of it all was that I was okay with all of this. Not beating myself up about retreating, focusing on things in FRONT of me rather than in my head. 
Learning to be okay with most of what happens to you in life is one more step to everything else.

Our Pharmacology head had fifteen minutes to spare today. So she gave us a cute heart-to-heart about Islam and souls. Deep, overwhelming talks that leave me feeling like some different person, not the 22 year old I am. Making me feel absolutely miniscule. We grow up to know that toys break, seasons end, night turns to day, food finishes. Everything is finite. The idea of an infinite soul is scary, to say the least. And it makes my insides squirm. Since I am one for denial, I think I'll keep on pushing this to the back of my head until I need to sort it out. Trouble is, I don't exactly know when that'll be. 

This summer is grueling, and my iron will to ignore the heat and push on is gone. Health issues, people. Muscle spasms, insomnia, and fatigue. I don't know where it came from, and I don't know when it will leave.  I'm doing everything I can to make 'what I eat and what I drink' my top priority. So I'm pumping myself with juices and chips and roti and food every 3 hours. It's all I think about nowadays. Ab kya khaana hai.

 Trust is never what it is until it is SUPREMELY tested. Remember that.

Stethoscopes, reflex hammers, pen torches, inch tapes, and assessments. Wards aren't as inviting as they look. Annoyed, I am. Of the hospital. I need outings again. Gorging on Subway sandwiches and making pointless, funny conversation. Maybe McDonald's too this time, since they open at breakfast hours now. I love their Limited Edition "international" burger thing they're doing. Haven't tried a single one, but the idea is good.

My brother says I like the "hipster" DSLR photos. The ones of hair flips at 5:30pm with the light being just perfect. Pre-sunset light. I keep on delaying photoshoots with him, because this stupid degree is getting in the way. This is one thing I'm really excited about. Photography shoots. Jilani Park, Raiwind Road, the mouth of the Motorway, haaaye, I want to doooo thisss. Screw MBBS for one day. I will go.

More later. Enjoy yourselves people. Your souls are infinite!

 

Cable cars.

Indulging my whims.
Unmatched comfort.
Stolen peace.
Nights that felt like they would never,ever end.

Notnormal.

I don't want you like this. In lightning bursts, in microseconds. Ten texts in one minute, too much limelight and attention.
I want you, drawn out and spread. Evenly divided between both of our schedules. There, always. No excuses. One text every hour.
It is not possible that I always end up texting you just as you're arriving home from God-knows-where.
Stop with the overcompensation. It depresses me. I'd rather be depressed for another reason.

Shard.

This week has been a brain-jolter, a back-breaker. And it's only half over. 
It's seriously opened up my mind to the fact that I NEED TO LEARN HOW TO COOK. It's a survival tool, like learning to swim or starting a fire in the woods. And considering the fact that I'm a major foodie, I should know how to make my favorite things. This Spring break, I'll learn for sure. Chicken karahi,pulao,some Italian dishes, some nice desserts. I also want to go to Islamabad this break and hang out with W. I also want to go shopping with S. I also want to go over people's houses, people I haven't seen in years, and literally get excited by the thought of having so much to catch up on. Yes, this is good. This is great. So many plans to deal with, and I have the power to squeeze them into one week. 
I love being so busy that I don't even need to look at the clock. Busy with work, or fun, or being around people. And that has been seriously lacking lately. I'm so free and bored, that I feel a bit pathetic. And it's not my fault. Mom's out of town. I have to help take care of home. I have two seasons of House on my laptop that are DYING to watch (so, I watch them). The right side of abdomen hurts spasmodically and periodically (the doctor in me says it's appendicitis. But let's not stretch things).
I can't wait till Mom is back, she's like the central core to this household. I can't even go to college properly when she's not here. Kuch hota hai. I have the strangest feeling in the world, triggered by her absence.
I love reading those blogs that secretly-but-openly talk about their love life and their vices, weave it around some purpose, describing the minutest of things. The blowing of air or the number of times a cigarette has been puffed. When their partner held their hand and for how long. It makes me want to write like that, but not want to THAT much. I don't have that ability, and nor am I that comfortable with sharing things like that. Not anymore. Pata nahin kyun. These minute details are kept inside me, and they wash over me, hit me, or just flit through every now and then.  I wonder if it can be seen on my face. That I've been visited by wisps of memories. What do people think? I'm too curious about things like these.
This relights the sparks in my brain about what life is about. Nothing is overrated. Not traveling or beaches or kisses or hugs. Everything's what you make it. And everything is relative.


'Cause you are the piece of me I wish I didn't need
Chasing relentlessly, still fight and I don't know why
If our love is tragedy, why are you my remedy?
If our love's insanity, why are you my clarity?

Bulletproof. I think I've done this before.

Why is it that people believe the strangers with their compliments, never the people they know? And yet they're afraid to let strangers enter, see them, know them. What sort of misplaced trust is this?
I need heels. 6 inch walay. And cinnamon rolls and more money and fresh air and a boost of self esteem to face everything.
I need more strength to deal with the days, because I'm slowly (and sadly) realizing that my daily nap is a requirement rather than a luxury. I cannot do without.
I need Lahore to embrace me tighter than before. Because I can't seem to feel it anymore.
We're playing around with the idea of happiness, we don't even know what it is. What will you do when you have it? Nothing. Isn't that scary? You're working so hard,  for a feeling.
Reaffirms my earlier beliefs. Nothing matters more than what/how you feel.
How a song's shrill voice and blasting piano keys can send chills deeper than your spine and make you want to act out in your own music video.
And a glance could mean everything.
Ignorance is pure bliss. But knowledge is empowering in its own way. And those who believe the former, can never understand the latter.

I have a load of crap to do. Get Nat's assignment on Azithromycin. Find two more antibiotic cases in the ward tomorrow. Submit my MLC copy Lug my laptop around all day tomorrow. But I just want to run away. For today. Bohaaaat dil chah raha hai. To escape.

Regret's catching on faster than a cold.
Forensic, Patho, and Pharma copies, all incomplete. And unchecked. The horror.
Left a really important chapter for tomorrow's  test.
Struggling to break out of this rigidity, holding me back tight.
I hate this funny, stupid, weird never-before felt feeling. Looseness.

Too sudden.

Hey you.
I never experienced what people meant about a scent having its connection with a memory. Or memories. Maybe because my sense of smell was always associated with something recent, not too far back. Home, or university.
But today, I smelled Blue Lady. From I don't know who. And I remembered the school courtyard at off time, and our blue sweaters. Mine with the hole in the right sleeve. Which you always reminded me to get stitched. Dull grey skies, always that. The exact position of the water cooler. And you, most of all. In your grey shirt, and steel pants. Lanky. Standing. Laughing. And I just. Remembered you. Over and over again. And the memory stayed with me longer than the scent did.
I never really liked how Blue Lady smelled. But it doesn't matter. It means something. How was I supposed to know a thousand tiny little particles were supposed to take me back seven years ago? 
How powerful.

Of things understood.

Sometimes, when I come home from college, I go over the entire day in my head while changing clothes. And I mentally make a list of "Mistakes I Did Today". They could be anything from talking too much, to ignoring someone, to spreading gossip, etc. 
It's a pretty self destructive procedure. But I find it helps at times.
At 23, I'm still finding myself out. I think we all are.

My own shot.

Blue boxes.

To start off, Happy New Year. :) It's 2013 already. Who knew? That 2012 would pass so fast, and that (regardless of whether we believed it or not) everyone would hold their breath on the 21st, only to see that nothing happened. The world might've become hell, but it definitely didn't explode end.
I went through travel-mania in the summer, the main reason for why summer 2012 was horrible and spent completely on sulking and not enjoying whatever I had in front of me. But if there was any reason to believe in Allah and his "compensations" for people, it was this. For as I was envying all my friends going abroad for the summer, I got my summer wish. To go to Dubai in the winter. (: And spent the New Year there.
It was great. No. More than great. I enjoyed it thoroughly, all day, every single day. For one week. Everything was different,I WANTED everything was different. Because even after profs, even when the college was off for holidays, just living here felt routine. Bogged down, annoyed. I didn't need a vacation, I needed a life recharge. I left Pakistan, denying to believe that I had to come back. The saddest day of this year so far was the day I boarded my return flight.
Now, being back feels like I'm 14 years old again, and letting every small thing get to me. Because everything feels like it's destined to not give me a good future. Not give me what I want.

So much more in my head to write, but the words aren't flowing. Maybe some other time. Cheers to the New Year (: