Have you ever just sat down with pen and paper in hand (although these days its with a laptop) and have totally no idea what to write about? Well, that seems to be happening to me today. I can think of absolutely nothing to say. I got married to a Croatian warrior precisely a week back, got Indian Muslim marriage defined and redefined in these 6 days…came to know of cultures and tradition which no one was aware of apart from the one who popped it. Saw the widest range of Muslim Hijabs and missed both marriage and reception dinner… but still if you ask me… I have nothing to write. Much on the lines of Ghalib it feels like so much has happened that nothing remains relevant.
Some days I have no problem at all. I'll be scratching my week old beard or traveling and all of a sudden I get this great idea for an article; I can sit down and bang that puppy out in just a few minutes…I love those times. Then there are days like today, I sit in front of the computer screen and stare at that annoying, blinking cursor. It just sits there and blinks at me. It's like its taunting me, laughing at me because I have nothing to say. The pressure is unbearable. Blink, Blink,Blink…comeon you brain-dead…Blink Blink Blink
I suppose I could change it to one of those smiley faces or a dinosaur, but then I would have a smiley face or dinosaur blinking at me.
I guess I could probably not stare at the screen; I can watch TV or maybe go to sleep. But how is that going to help me write an article? Blink, Blink. Stupid cursor. This really isn't helping me. I'm so obsessed with this cursor, I can't let my muse come to me and do its muse thing. Knowing my luck, she's staring at the cursor too. Well, if my muse won't come maybe I should start digging my nose or something. No, it will never get that bad. When is there ever a good excuse to dig your nose? Have you ever been so bored that you decide, "Hey, I'm bored, I think I'll just start digging my nose for time being." I don't know about you, but I've never done that. I can see pulling my chair bit back and start digging my nose filled mixture of city pollution but if that Croatian warrior see me doing that probably I will be divorced before I could actually realize I was married. Now digging a nose to get an easy divorce might be a good reason but digging it because you don’t have any ideas to write is not at all a good reason.
So, I'm back to square one, although now my fishes are looking at my direction and blinking at me…!!!God this is spooky… how many times have your fishes looking at you leave alone blinking underwater? I'll tell you...Never. You can't get a fish to blink. Actually, you can't get a fish to do anything. Well, you can get it to shit every five minutes without asking much, but how hard is that. Now, all of a sudden the stupid thing gets it into its head to blink at me. This is getting out of control. First the cursor, now the fish, what's next? Now, the light on the phone is blinking. OK, that's it, I'm done. I guess I just won't write anything today.
I will put a marriage pic of mine… but my warrior is still arranging it in some order and till the whole 700 pictures are arranged I won’t be getting anything.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
We are just friends bullshit
The other day I was having a phone conversation with a friend of mine. In the midst of that long call, he said something about a guy whom I met only once and mentally tagged him as a slimy asshole. He mentioned the fact that he believed that as a married guy he was wrong to have so many female friends that he spent time with. My friend feels this asshole might not be doing it just to irritate his wife he might actually have a addictive problem… addicted to making female friends and leading friendships to an unknown territory.
His sentence was not a point in itself; it was part of a wider conversation about what had happened to some of our mutual friends since they left college. The guy that he mentioned was married to someone we both knew but had not kept in touch with since her marriage.
The next day that sentence about the married guy with female friends finds its way into my idle thoughts. The rest of the conversation has long since evaporated but this sentence has managed to linger as if it were embossed and visible above the rest of the now faded words.
Why is it wrong for a married man to have female friends or vice versa? I believe the rule applies both ways. But even though I feel like I understand the reasoning behind the 'rule', I'm not sure I understand the logic.
Okay, so there's the obvious attraction issue. But just because one person is male and the other female that doesn't mean there will be an attraction or does it? And are we then saying that it is wrong to have friendships with people you may at some point find attractive? In fact taking that question one step further, is it wrong to have a friendship with someone you presently find attractive? How practical is this rule in reality? How will you like to know your partner is avoiding that person from opposite sex because she finds him attractive? Will you smell loyalty or breathe jealousy and inferiority.
I'm of the opinion that if I'm in a relationship with someone then I simply would like to trust her... that she will never make such things visible to me. I would prefer remaining ignorant of her attractions.
Understand folks, If they're going to cheat on you then they're going to cheat on you. No amount of rules and barriers or freedom and understanding will prevent that or help address the far more serious underlying issue that must surely be there in the first place. And if they did cheat on you would that be the end? How far can forgiveness go? How broken does something have to be before it simply can't be fixed?
I suppose the question is an age old one. Can men and women really be just friends? I'd like to think so but then again most of the time I don’t think about stuff the way I would like to think.
I think maybe it comes down to how secure you are in your relationship. If you're worried that your partner is at risk of cheating on you then that is a tough place to be. However, perhaps the problem isn't that your partner is about to embark on some secret sleazy relationship, but more the fact that you think they would do so? I hate that guy and his tribe real slimy ones and the good thing my wife also hates that tribe equally if not more… what about you?
His sentence was not a point in itself; it was part of a wider conversation about what had happened to some of our mutual friends since they left college. The guy that he mentioned was married to someone we both knew but had not kept in touch with since her marriage.
The next day that sentence about the married guy with female friends finds its way into my idle thoughts. The rest of the conversation has long since evaporated but this sentence has managed to linger as if it were embossed and visible above the rest of the now faded words.
Why is it wrong for a married man to have female friends or vice versa? I believe the rule applies both ways. But even though I feel like I understand the reasoning behind the 'rule', I'm not sure I understand the logic.
Okay, so there's the obvious attraction issue. But just because one person is male and the other female that doesn't mean there will be an attraction or does it? And are we then saying that it is wrong to have friendships with people you may at some point find attractive? In fact taking that question one step further, is it wrong to have a friendship with someone you presently find attractive? How practical is this rule in reality? How will you like to know your partner is avoiding that person from opposite sex because she finds him attractive? Will you smell loyalty or breathe jealousy and inferiority.
I'm of the opinion that if I'm in a relationship with someone then I simply would like to trust her... that she will never make such things visible to me. I would prefer remaining ignorant of her attractions.
Understand folks, If they're going to cheat on you then they're going to cheat on you. No amount of rules and barriers or freedom and understanding will prevent that or help address the far more serious underlying issue that must surely be there in the first place. And if they did cheat on you would that be the end? How far can forgiveness go? How broken does something have to be before it simply can't be fixed?
I suppose the question is an age old one. Can men and women really be just friends? I'd like to think so but then again most of the time I don’t think about stuff the way I would like to think.
I think maybe it comes down to how secure you are in your relationship. If you're worried that your partner is at risk of cheating on you then that is a tough place to be. However, perhaps the problem isn't that your partner is about to embark on some secret sleazy relationship, but more the fact that you think they would do so? I hate that guy and his tribe real slimy ones and the good thing my wife also hates that tribe equally if not more… what about you?
Cattle Class
Some people have accused me of being socially irresponsible because at times I prefer not to watch the news on TV or scan the daily newspaper.
I'm not big on watching the news on TV. At times I steer clear of news websites. And I don't get a newspaper, not even the one where some random wannabe sex symbol bares her breasts for all to see on page three.
In short, there are simply times where I try to avoid knowing what's going on in the world. It's not that I don't want to know what's happening, it's just that the more I know, the less I want to know.
Right now if I turn on the TV and the news is dominated by talk of war. Thousands of United States and British troupes are already in strategic positions around the Gulf ready, or so it would seem, to simply sweep into action against the ghost of Saddam Hussein this time trying to hunt Iran, it doesn’t make much of a difference Mr. Obama getting a Nobel peace award. Then Indo-Pak argument on sharing Kashmir booty and lately resurfacing of Naxalite movement. Oh yeah did I also heard about Pakistan declaring war on Taliban. So now Pakistan is against Taliban and India, India against Pakistan and Taliban and Taliban is against everyone.
These top stories almost push another situation into obscurity too. North Korea. I don't know much about this, and again, I don't want to. But it looks like they've been doing their own mini war dance with America, a dance that Japan recently got involved in saying they would attack North Korea if their was evidence that it was planning a missile attack.
And then, instead of the 'and finally' stories where we usually get a nice inside story about who slept with whom in the big bad world of entertainment (Michael Jackson died …so did the news) we get the usual run of the mill news about the economic downturn and some horrible killer flood or earthquake in some place across the world.
Following this there will be a weather report, which given the fact it's time of Global warming mockery you got to forget anything natural.The weather doesn't spell the end of the news though. No, after the world news and the weather we have the local news. This will consist of a collection of stories about regional slaughters, explosion, scams, and some company shedding x thousand jobs.
This bulletin will however still have time for one of those walk, sit on the couch interviews where some big shot enlightened guy will knock the day light off from your already cramped head.
And after all this, what will we do? We'll sit there and watch a reality game show or an episode of Friends or movie re-run. We'll escape into the make believe world of television for a while, until the next new bulletin, at which point we'll probably say "Ok the body count didn’t rise much." then switch it off and go to bed…And people have accused me of being socially irresponsible!
I'm not big on watching the news on TV. At times I steer clear of news websites. And I don't get a newspaper, not even the one where some random wannabe sex symbol bares her breasts for all to see on page three.
In short, there are simply times where I try to avoid knowing what's going on in the world. It's not that I don't want to know what's happening, it's just that the more I know, the less I want to know.
Right now if I turn on the TV and the news is dominated by talk of war. Thousands of United States and British troupes are already in strategic positions around the Gulf ready, or so it would seem, to simply sweep into action against the ghost of Saddam Hussein this time trying to hunt Iran, it doesn’t make much of a difference Mr. Obama getting a Nobel peace award. Then Indo-Pak argument on sharing Kashmir booty and lately resurfacing of Naxalite movement. Oh yeah did I also heard about Pakistan declaring war on Taliban. So now Pakistan is against Taliban and India, India against Pakistan and Taliban and Taliban is against everyone.
These top stories almost push another situation into obscurity too. North Korea. I don't know much about this, and again, I don't want to. But it looks like they've been doing their own mini war dance with America, a dance that Japan recently got involved in saying they would attack North Korea if their was evidence that it was planning a missile attack.
And then, instead of the 'and finally' stories where we usually get a nice inside story about who slept with whom in the big bad world of entertainment (Michael Jackson died …so did the news) we get the usual run of the mill news about the economic downturn and some horrible killer flood or earthquake in some place across the world.
Following this there will be a weather report, which given the fact it's time of Global warming mockery you got to forget anything natural.The weather doesn't spell the end of the news though. No, after the world news and the weather we have the local news. This will consist of a collection of stories about regional slaughters, explosion, scams, and some company shedding x thousand jobs.
This bulletin will however still have time for one of those walk, sit on the couch interviews where some big shot enlightened guy will knock the day light off from your already cramped head.
And after all this, what will we do? We'll sit there and watch a reality game show or an episode of Friends or movie re-run. We'll escape into the make believe world of television for a while, until the next new bulletin, at which point we'll probably say "Ok the body count didn’t rise much." then switch it off and go to bed…And people have accused me of being socially irresponsible!
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Refusing to turn 28
I'm supposed to turn 28 years old this December. But I think I'm going to refuse and stay 27 another year or so. I have my own reasons to hold my ground or my 27yrs of age by neck and not let it go for next couple of years. Few reasons which I can make public are:
Number 9 is my lucky number. 2-7=9 OOO that’s a wrong calculation. Ye smartass I was just waking you up, people tend to fall asleep as soon as they are done reading my first paragraph.
Now Concentrate…
You see by the time my Father turned 28 he was in a great job for 5 years, a beautiful wife (mmm atleast his wife thought so), a nice home, 1 1/2 kids (I was still inside) and a Bike to take his family for rides. I, on the other hand, have none of those things. I might have been able to pull off the bike or maybe a car if I would have cared enough for taking some driving lesson but I found it easier to sit at back and do the back seat driving. There is one thing I will have at 28 that my Father did not and that is staying with your parents and eating home cooked food. Yes, all the more reason to stay 27 and not get rebuked by people.
Once you turn 28 you can no longer use the excuse that 'you are young and in your 20's' when explaining why you do dumb things. Once you turn 28 they start saying he is in his LATE 20’s or nearing 30’s and then if you do stupid stuff you are just immature and irresponsible. Actions that at 27 are met with laughs and giggles will then be met with eye rolling and looks of disgust. People who loved hanging out with you when you were 27 and still 'young' will now shun your company because you are too 'childish'. I can't speak for anyone else but I personally plan on engaging in lots more dumbness and I don't want to be looked down upon for it just because I crossed some imaginary age marker.
I am getting married shortly and I don’t want people to think in the direction where the hoarding says “Old Groom”. I want them to feel and say young couple most importantly Young Groom.
I don't feel I am nearing 30. I don't think your age should legally change until you feel that age. It just seems stupid that just because 365 days have passed I am no longer allowed to be in my mid-twenties. I don't feel a day over 24, ok maybe 26 fine at times I feel I am 40 but that’s a very hush hush and private feeling. Sure I'm starting to get a few more aches and pains in a few places and maybe I don't have the strength and stamina that I used to, but that could just be from hard living. It has nothing to do with the number 2 or the number 8.
2 years from 28 if counted stupidly correct you turn 30 and ten years after you turn 30 you turn 40 and I'm in no condition to deal with that kind of pressure right now...
Keeping it honest and simple this time, I sum up my reasons here. Hopefully, I will inspire others who read this Blog to take up this cause and refuse to be bullied into premature aging as well. If we all stand together we can put an end to this insane and outdated practice once and for all. We will be able to form a world where people are as old as they want to be and no older. We will be The Ageless, The Forever Young, The Ones Who Never Became Senior Citizens. Then again, I'm young and in my mid twenties, what do I know...
Number 9 is my lucky number. 2-7=9 OOO that’s a wrong calculation. Ye smartass I was just waking you up, people tend to fall asleep as soon as they are done reading my first paragraph.
Now Concentrate…
You see by the time my Father turned 28 he was in a great job for 5 years, a beautiful wife (mmm atleast his wife thought so), a nice home, 1 1/2 kids (I was still inside) and a Bike to take his family for rides. I, on the other hand, have none of those things. I might have been able to pull off the bike or maybe a car if I would have cared enough for taking some driving lesson but I found it easier to sit at back and do the back seat driving. There is one thing I will have at 28 that my Father did not and that is staying with your parents and eating home cooked food. Yes, all the more reason to stay 27 and not get rebuked by people.
Once you turn 28 you can no longer use the excuse that 'you are young and in your 20's' when explaining why you do dumb things. Once you turn 28 they start saying he is in his LATE 20’s or nearing 30’s and then if you do stupid stuff you are just immature and irresponsible. Actions that at 27 are met with laughs and giggles will then be met with eye rolling and looks of disgust. People who loved hanging out with you when you were 27 and still 'young' will now shun your company because you are too 'childish'. I can't speak for anyone else but I personally plan on engaging in lots more dumbness and I don't want to be looked down upon for it just because I crossed some imaginary age marker.
I am getting married shortly and I don’t want people to think in the direction where the hoarding says “Old Groom”. I want them to feel and say young couple most importantly Young Groom.
I don't feel I am nearing 30. I don't think your age should legally change until you feel that age. It just seems stupid that just because 365 days have passed I am no longer allowed to be in my mid-twenties. I don't feel a day over 24, ok maybe 26 fine at times I feel I am 40 but that’s a very hush hush and private feeling. Sure I'm starting to get a few more aches and pains in a few places and maybe I don't have the strength and stamina that I used to, but that could just be from hard living. It has nothing to do with the number 2 or the number 8.
2 years from 28 if counted stupidly correct you turn 30 and ten years after you turn 30 you turn 40 and I'm in no condition to deal with that kind of pressure right now...
Keeping it honest and simple this time, I sum up my reasons here. Hopefully, I will inspire others who read this Blog to take up this cause and refuse to be bullied into premature aging as well. If we all stand together we can put an end to this insane and outdated practice once and for all. We will be able to form a world where people are as old as they want to be and no older. We will be The Ageless, The Forever Young, The Ones Who Never Became Senior Citizens. Then again, I'm young and in my mid twenties, what do I know...
Thursday, September 24, 2009
First Letter To Uncle Sam - Saadat Hasan Manto
About Saadat Hasan Manto:
Saadat Hasan Manto, the most widely read and most controversial short story writer in Urdu, was born on May 11, 1912 at Sambrala in Punjab’s Ludhiana district. In a literary, journalistic, radio scripting and film-writing career spread over more than two decades, he produced 22 collections of short stories, one novel, five collections of radio plays, three collections of essays, two collections of personal sketches, and many scripts for films. He was tried for obscenity half a dozen times, thrice before and thrice after independence. Manto’s greatest work was produced in the last seven years of his life, a time of great financial and emotional hardship for him. He died several months short of his 43rd birthday in January 1955 in Lahore.
-- * --
31 Laxmi Mansions,
Hall Road, Lahore
16 December 1951
Dear Uncle,
Greetings,
This letter comes to you from your Pakistani nephew whom you do not know, nor does anyone else in your land of seven freedoms.
You should know why my country, sliced away from India, came into being and gained independence, which is why I am taking the liberty of writing to you. Like my country, I too have become independent and in exactly the same way. Uncle, I will not labour the point since an all-knowing seer like you can well imagine the freedom a bird whose wings have been clipped can enjoy.
My name is Saadat Hasan Manto and I was born in a place that is now in India. My mother is buried there. My father is buried there my first-born is also resting in that bit of earth. However, that place is no longer my country. My country now is Pakistan which I had only seen five or six times before as a British subject.
I used to be the All India’s Great Short Story Writer. Now I am Pakistan’s Great Short Story Writer. Several collections of my stories have been published and the people respect me. In undivided India, I was tried thrice, in Pakistan so far once. But then Pakistan is still young.
The government of the British considered my writings pornographic. My own government has the same opinion. The government of the British let me off but I do not expect my own government to do so. A lower court sentenced me to three months hard labour and a Rs. 300 fine. My appeal to the higher court won me an acquittal but my government believes that justice has not been done and so it has now filed an appeal in the High Court, praying that the judgment acquitting me be quashed and I be punished. We will have to see what the high Court decides.
My country is not your country which I regret. If the High Court were to punish me, there is no newspaper in my country that would print my picture or the details of all my trial.
My country is poor. It has no art paper, nor proper printing presses. I am living evidence of this poverty. You will not believe it, uncle, but despite being the author of twenty-two books, I do not have my own house to live in. and you will be astonished to know that I have no means of getting myself from one place to the other. I neither have a Packard nor a Dodge; I do not even have a used car.
If I need to go somewhere, I rent a bike. If a piece of mine appears in a newspaper and I earn twenty to twenty-five rupees at the rate of seven rupees a column, I hire a tonga and go buy locally distilled whiskey. Had this whiskey been distilled in your country, you would have destroyed that distillery with an atom bomb because it is the sort of stuff guaranteed to send its user to kingdom come within one year.
But I am disgressing. All I really wanted to do was to convey my good wishes to brother Erskine Caldwell. You will no doubt recall that you tried him for his novel ‘God’s Little Acre’ on the same charge that I have faced here: pornography.
Believe me, uncle, when I hear that this novel was tried on an obscenity charge in the land of seven freedoms, I was extremely surprised. In your country, after all, everything is divested of its outer covering so that it can be displayed in the show window, be it fresh fruit or woman, machine or animal, book or calendar. You are the king of bare things so I am at a loss to understand, uncle, why you tried brother Erskine Caldwell.
Had it not been for my quick reading of the court judgment I would have drunk myself to death by downing large quantities of our locally distilled whiskey because of the shock I received when I came to know of the Caldwell case. In a way, it was unfortunate that my country missed an opportunity to rid itself of a man like me, but then had I croaked, I would not have been writing to you, uncle. I am dutiful by nature. I love my country. In a few days, by the Grace of God I will die and if I do not kill myself, I will die anyway because where flour sells at the price at which it sells here, only a shamefaced person can complete his ordained time on earth.
So, I read the Caldwell judgment and decided not to drink myself to death with large quantities of the local hooch. Uncle, out there in your country, everything has an artificial facade but the judge who acquitted brother Erskine was certainly without such facade if this judge- I’m sorry I don’t know his name- is alive, kindly convey my respectful regards to him.
The last lines of his judgment point to the intellectual reach of his mind. He writes: “I personally feel that if such books were suppressed, it would create an unnecessary sense of curiosity among people which could induce them to seek salaciousness, though that is not the purpose of this book. I am absolutely certain that the author has chosen to write truthfully about a certain segment of American society. It is my opinion that truth is always consistent with literature and should be so declared.”
That is what I told the court that sentenced me, but it went ahead anyway and gave me three months in prison with hard labour and a fine of three hundred rupees. My judge thought that truth and literature should be kept far apart. Everyone has his opinion.
I am ready to serve my three-month term but this fine of three hundred rupees I am unable to pay. Uncle, you do not know that I am poor. Hard work I am used to, but money I am unused to. I am about thirty-nine and all my life I have worked hard. Just think about it. Despite being such a famous writer, I have no Packard.
I am poor because my country is poor. Two meals a day I can somehow manage but many of my brothers are not so fortunate.
My country is poor. But why is it ignorant? I am sure, uncle, you know why because you and your brother John Bull together are a subject I do not want to touch because it will not be exactly music to your ears. Since I write to you as a respectful youngster, I should remain that way from start to finish.
You will certainly ask me out of astonishment why my country is poor when it boasts of so many Packards, Buicks, and Max Factor cosmetics. That is indeed so, uncle, but I will not answer your question because if you look into your heart, you will find the answer (unless you have had your heart taken out by one of your brilliant surgeons.)
That section of my country’s population which rides in Packards and Buicks is really not of my country. Where poor people like me and those even poorer live, that is my country.
There are bitter things, but there is a shortage of sugar here otherwise I would have coated my words appropriately. But what of it! Recently, I read Evelyn Waugh’s book ‘The Loved One’. He of course comes from the country of your friends. Believe me, I was so impressed by that book that I sat down to write to you.
I was always convinced of the individual genius found in your part of the world but after reading this book, I have become a fan of his for life. What a performance, I say! Some truly vibrant people do indeed live out there.
Evelyn Waugh tells us that in your California, the dead can be beautified and there are large organizations that undertake the task. No matter how unattractive the dear departed in life, after death he can be given the look desired. There are forms you fill where you are asked to indicate your preference. The excellence of the finished product is guaranteed. The dead can be beautified to the extent desired, as long as you pay the price. There are experts who can perform this delicate task to perfection. The jaw of the loved one can be operated upon and a beatific smile implanted on the face. The eyes can be lit up and the forehead can be made to appear luminous. And all this work is done so marvelously that it can befool the two angles who are assigned to do a reckoning once a person is in the grave.
Uncle, by God you people are matchless.
One had heard of the living being operated on and beautified with the help of plastic surgery- there was much talk of it here- but one had not heard that the death can be beautified as well.
Recently one of your citizens was here and some friends introduced me to him. By then I had read brother Evelyn Waugh’s book and I read an Urdu couplet to your countryman that he did not follow. However, the fact is, uncle, that we have so distorted our faces that they have become unrecognizable, even to us. And there we have you who can even make the dead look more beautiful than they ever were in life. The truth is that only you have a right to live on this earth: the rest of us are wasting our time.
Our great Urdu poet Ghalib wrote about a hundred years ago:
If disgrace after death was to be my fate,
I should have met my end through drowning
It would have spared me a funeral and no headstone would have marked my last resting place
Ghalib was not afraid of being disgraced while he was alive because from beginning to the end that remained his lot. What he feared was disgrace after death. He was a graceful man and not only was he afraid of what would happen after he died, he was certain what would happen to him after he was gone. And that is why he expressed a wish to meet his end through drowning so that he should neither have funeral nor grave.
How I wish he had been born in your country. He would have been carried to his grave with great fanfare and over his resting place a skyscraper would have been built. Or were his own wish to be granted, his dead body would have been placed in a pool of glass and people would have gone to view it as they go to a zoo.
Brother Evelyn Waugh writes that not only are there in your country establishments that can beautify dead humans but dead animals as well. If a dog loses its tail in an accident, he can have a new one.
Whatever physical defects the dead one had in life are duly repaired after death. He is then buried ceremoniously and floral wreaths are placed on his grave. Every year on the pet’s death anniversary, a card is sent to the owner with an inscription that reads something like this: In paradise, your Tammy (or Jeffie) is wagging his tail (or his ears) while thinking of you.
What it adds up to is that your dogs are better off than us. Die here today, you are forgotten tomorrow. If someone in the family dies, it is a disaster for those left behind who often can be heard wailing, “why did the wretch die? I should’ve gone instead.” The truth is, uncle that we neither know how to live nor how to die.
I heard of one of your citizens who wasn’t sure what sort of funeral he would be given, so he staged a grand “funeral” for himself while he was very much alive. He deserved that certainly because he had lived a stylish and opulent life where nothing happened unless he wished it to. He wanted to rule out the possibility of things not being done right at his funeral; as such, he was justified in personally observing his last rites while alive. What happens after death is neither here nor there.
I have just seen the new issue of ‘Life’ (5 November 1951, international edition) and learnt of the most instructive facet of American life. Spread across two pages is an account of the funeral of the greatest gangster of your country. I saw a picture of Willie Moretti (may his soul rest in peace) and his magnificent home which he had recently sold for $55,000. I also viewed his five-acre estate where he wanted to live in peace, anyway from the distractions of the world. There was also a pictures of his $5,000 casket and his funeral procession made up of seventy-five cars. God is my witness; it brought tears to my eyes.
May there be dust in my mouth, but in case you were to die, may you have a grander farewell than Willie Moretti. This is the ardent prayer of a poor Pakistani writer who doesn’t even have a cycle to ride on. May I beg you that like the more farsighted ones in your country, you should make arrangements to witness your funeral while you are alive. You can’t leave it to others; they can always make mistakes, being fallible. It is possible that your physical appearance may not receive the attention it deserves after you have passed away. It is also possible that you may already have witnessed your funeral by the time this letter reaches you. I say this because you are not only wiser, you are also my uncle.
Convey my good wishes to brother Erskine Caldwell and to the judge who acquitted him of the pornography charge. If I have caused you offense, I beg your forgiveness. With the utmost respect,
Your poor nephew,
Saadat Hasan Manto,
Resident of Pakistan
(This letter could not be mailed because of lack of postage.)
Saadat Hasan Manto, the most widely read and most controversial short story writer in Urdu, was born on May 11, 1912 at Sambrala in Punjab’s Ludhiana district. In a literary, journalistic, radio scripting and film-writing career spread over more than two decades, he produced 22 collections of short stories, one novel, five collections of radio plays, three collections of essays, two collections of personal sketches, and many scripts for films. He was tried for obscenity half a dozen times, thrice before and thrice after independence. Manto’s greatest work was produced in the last seven years of his life, a time of great financial and emotional hardship for him. He died several months short of his 43rd birthday in January 1955 in Lahore.
-- * --
31 Laxmi Mansions,
Hall Road, Lahore
16 December 1951
Dear Uncle,
Greetings,
This letter comes to you from your Pakistani nephew whom you do not know, nor does anyone else in your land of seven freedoms.
You should know why my country, sliced away from India, came into being and gained independence, which is why I am taking the liberty of writing to you. Like my country, I too have become independent and in exactly the same way. Uncle, I will not labour the point since an all-knowing seer like you can well imagine the freedom a bird whose wings have been clipped can enjoy.
My name is Saadat Hasan Manto and I was born in a place that is now in India. My mother is buried there. My father is buried there my first-born is also resting in that bit of earth. However, that place is no longer my country. My country now is Pakistan which I had only seen five or six times before as a British subject.
I used to be the All India’s Great Short Story Writer. Now I am Pakistan’s Great Short Story Writer. Several collections of my stories have been published and the people respect me. In undivided India, I was tried thrice, in Pakistan so far once. But then Pakistan is still young.
The government of the British considered my writings pornographic. My own government has the same opinion. The government of the British let me off but I do not expect my own government to do so. A lower court sentenced me to three months hard labour and a Rs. 300 fine. My appeal to the higher court won me an acquittal but my government believes that justice has not been done and so it has now filed an appeal in the High Court, praying that the judgment acquitting me be quashed and I be punished. We will have to see what the high Court decides.
My country is not your country which I regret. If the High Court were to punish me, there is no newspaper in my country that would print my picture or the details of all my trial.
My country is poor. It has no art paper, nor proper printing presses. I am living evidence of this poverty. You will not believe it, uncle, but despite being the author of twenty-two books, I do not have my own house to live in. and you will be astonished to know that I have no means of getting myself from one place to the other. I neither have a Packard nor a Dodge; I do not even have a used car.
If I need to go somewhere, I rent a bike. If a piece of mine appears in a newspaper and I earn twenty to twenty-five rupees at the rate of seven rupees a column, I hire a tonga and go buy locally distilled whiskey. Had this whiskey been distilled in your country, you would have destroyed that distillery with an atom bomb because it is the sort of stuff guaranteed to send its user to kingdom come within one year.
But I am disgressing. All I really wanted to do was to convey my good wishes to brother Erskine Caldwell. You will no doubt recall that you tried him for his novel ‘God’s Little Acre’ on the same charge that I have faced here: pornography.
Believe me, uncle, when I hear that this novel was tried on an obscenity charge in the land of seven freedoms, I was extremely surprised. In your country, after all, everything is divested of its outer covering so that it can be displayed in the show window, be it fresh fruit or woman, machine or animal, book or calendar. You are the king of bare things so I am at a loss to understand, uncle, why you tried brother Erskine Caldwell.
Had it not been for my quick reading of the court judgment I would have drunk myself to death by downing large quantities of our locally distilled whiskey because of the shock I received when I came to know of the Caldwell case. In a way, it was unfortunate that my country missed an opportunity to rid itself of a man like me, but then had I croaked, I would not have been writing to you, uncle. I am dutiful by nature. I love my country. In a few days, by the Grace of God I will die and if I do not kill myself, I will die anyway because where flour sells at the price at which it sells here, only a shamefaced person can complete his ordained time on earth.
So, I read the Caldwell judgment and decided not to drink myself to death with large quantities of the local hooch. Uncle, out there in your country, everything has an artificial facade but the judge who acquitted brother Erskine was certainly without such facade if this judge- I’m sorry I don’t know his name- is alive, kindly convey my respectful regards to him.
The last lines of his judgment point to the intellectual reach of his mind. He writes: “I personally feel that if such books were suppressed, it would create an unnecessary sense of curiosity among people which could induce them to seek salaciousness, though that is not the purpose of this book. I am absolutely certain that the author has chosen to write truthfully about a certain segment of American society. It is my opinion that truth is always consistent with literature and should be so declared.”
That is what I told the court that sentenced me, but it went ahead anyway and gave me three months in prison with hard labour and a fine of three hundred rupees. My judge thought that truth and literature should be kept far apart. Everyone has his opinion.
I am ready to serve my three-month term but this fine of three hundred rupees I am unable to pay. Uncle, you do not know that I am poor. Hard work I am used to, but money I am unused to. I am about thirty-nine and all my life I have worked hard. Just think about it. Despite being such a famous writer, I have no Packard.
I am poor because my country is poor. Two meals a day I can somehow manage but many of my brothers are not so fortunate.
My country is poor. But why is it ignorant? I am sure, uncle, you know why because you and your brother John Bull together are a subject I do not want to touch because it will not be exactly music to your ears. Since I write to you as a respectful youngster, I should remain that way from start to finish.
You will certainly ask me out of astonishment why my country is poor when it boasts of so many Packards, Buicks, and Max Factor cosmetics. That is indeed so, uncle, but I will not answer your question because if you look into your heart, you will find the answer (unless you have had your heart taken out by one of your brilliant surgeons.)
That section of my country’s population which rides in Packards and Buicks is really not of my country. Where poor people like me and those even poorer live, that is my country.
There are bitter things, but there is a shortage of sugar here otherwise I would have coated my words appropriately. But what of it! Recently, I read Evelyn Waugh’s book ‘The Loved One’. He of course comes from the country of your friends. Believe me, I was so impressed by that book that I sat down to write to you.
I was always convinced of the individual genius found in your part of the world but after reading this book, I have become a fan of his for life. What a performance, I say! Some truly vibrant people do indeed live out there.
Evelyn Waugh tells us that in your California, the dead can be beautified and there are large organizations that undertake the task. No matter how unattractive the dear departed in life, after death he can be given the look desired. There are forms you fill where you are asked to indicate your preference. The excellence of the finished product is guaranteed. The dead can be beautified to the extent desired, as long as you pay the price. There are experts who can perform this delicate task to perfection. The jaw of the loved one can be operated upon and a beatific smile implanted on the face. The eyes can be lit up and the forehead can be made to appear luminous. And all this work is done so marvelously that it can befool the two angles who are assigned to do a reckoning once a person is in the grave.
Uncle, by God you people are matchless.
One had heard of the living being operated on and beautified with the help of plastic surgery- there was much talk of it here- but one had not heard that the death can be beautified as well.
Recently one of your citizens was here and some friends introduced me to him. By then I had read brother Evelyn Waugh’s book and I read an Urdu couplet to your countryman that he did not follow. However, the fact is, uncle, that we have so distorted our faces that they have become unrecognizable, even to us. And there we have you who can even make the dead look more beautiful than they ever were in life. The truth is that only you have a right to live on this earth: the rest of us are wasting our time.
Our great Urdu poet Ghalib wrote about a hundred years ago:
If disgrace after death was to be my fate,
I should have met my end through drowning
It would have spared me a funeral and no headstone would have marked my last resting place
Ghalib was not afraid of being disgraced while he was alive because from beginning to the end that remained his lot. What he feared was disgrace after death. He was a graceful man and not only was he afraid of what would happen after he died, he was certain what would happen to him after he was gone. And that is why he expressed a wish to meet his end through drowning so that he should neither have funeral nor grave.
How I wish he had been born in your country. He would have been carried to his grave with great fanfare and over his resting place a skyscraper would have been built. Or were his own wish to be granted, his dead body would have been placed in a pool of glass and people would have gone to view it as they go to a zoo.
Brother Evelyn Waugh writes that not only are there in your country establishments that can beautify dead humans but dead animals as well. If a dog loses its tail in an accident, he can have a new one.
Whatever physical defects the dead one had in life are duly repaired after death. He is then buried ceremoniously and floral wreaths are placed on his grave. Every year on the pet’s death anniversary, a card is sent to the owner with an inscription that reads something like this: In paradise, your Tammy (or Jeffie) is wagging his tail (or his ears) while thinking of you.
What it adds up to is that your dogs are better off than us. Die here today, you are forgotten tomorrow. If someone in the family dies, it is a disaster for those left behind who often can be heard wailing, “why did the wretch die? I should’ve gone instead.” The truth is, uncle that we neither know how to live nor how to die.
I heard of one of your citizens who wasn’t sure what sort of funeral he would be given, so he staged a grand “funeral” for himself while he was very much alive. He deserved that certainly because he had lived a stylish and opulent life where nothing happened unless he wished it to. He wanted to rule out the possibility of things not being done right at his funeral; as such, he was justified in personally observing his last rites while alive. What happens after death is neither here nor there.
I have just seen the new issue of ‘Life’ (5 November 1951, international edition) and learnt of the most instructive facet of American life. Spread across two pages is an account of the funeral of the greatest gangster of your country. I saw a picture of Willie Moretti (may his soul rest in peace) and his magnificent home which he had recently sold for $55,000. I also viewed his five-acre estate where he wanted to live in peace, anyway from the distractions of the world. There was also a pictures of his $5,000 casket and his funeral procession made up of seventy-five cars. God is my witness; it brought tears to my eyes.
May there be dust in my mouth, but in case you were to die, may you have a grander farewell than Willie Moretti. This is the ardent prayer of a poor Pakistani writer who doesn’t even have a cycle to ride on. May I beg you that like the more farsighted ones in your country, you should make arrangements to witness your funeral while you are alive. You can’t leave it to others; they can always make mistakes, being fallible. It is possible that your physical appearance may not receive the attention it deserves after you have passed away. It is also possible that you may already have witnessed your funeral by the time this letter reaches you. I say this because you are not only wiser, you are also my uncle.
Convey my good wishes to brother Erskine Caldwell and to the judge who acquitted him of the pornography charge. If I have caused you offense, I beg your forgiveness. With the utmost respect,
Your poor nephew,
Saadat Hasan Manto,
Resident of Pakistan
(This letter could not be mailed because of lack of postage.)
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
To Mrs. Ashraf...with Love - Love Sayings
I love her and that's the beginning of everything.
-- F. Scott Fitzgerald
…Asshole stole my line but not my girl and thank god for that.
Few week back Mrs. Ashraf wrote some twisted line about love on my facebook which takes hell lot of patience to read the entire length of it and worse remember it because I know she is gonna ask if I read it and if I did what did I decipher…contemplate and what am I gonna do about it.
Usually when I am in doubt, I tend to make a fool of myself. Not saying I don’t when I am not in doubt but on second thoughts there is a microscopically thin line between being brilliantly creative and acting like the most gigantic idiot on earth. So the great Ashraf brain says, what the hell. Anyway I tried being equally philosophical about love and rattle my brain to find some witty saying then came my favorite task …Google Search… nothing fits the bill. She will sniff it out from a mile its not my words…not my thoughts nor I believe in that saying. Well that’s the bad side of marrying someone who knows you inside out.
Do you want me to tell you something really subversive? Love is everything it's cracked up to be. That's why people are so cynical about it. . . It really is worth fighting for, being brave for, risking everything for. And the trouble is, if you don't risk anything, you risk even more.
I believe in the saying Love comes when manipulation stops…
It’s the time when you think more about the other person than about his or her reactions to you… When you dare to reveal yourself fully… When you dare to be vulnerable. It’s the time when you allow them or they know you inside out… what thing can shatter you to pieces. You are honest and barely romantic. When you tell them their departure from your life won’t kill you but you will forever be colleting remaining pieces life.
God knows it was not easy… vast geographical distance brings lot of cultural, language and religion boundaries but like the say “Two people are connected at the heart, and it doesn't matter what you do, or who you are or where you live; there are no boundaries or barriers if two people are destined to be together.” It all started with a dream to build a happy life for myself. A Selfish dream just for yourself… when you are truly in love you realize in dreams and in love there are no impossibilities. However insignificant and small you are world is your turf.
Once in awhile, right in the middle of an ordinary life, love gives us a fairy tale.
So I say if you are living a fairytale… man you are in love...provided you have an ordinary life like mine… a life where you can't stop loving or wanting to love your partner because you know it’s right and it's the best thing in the world for you(till it becomes the second best). On ground reality when you're in a relationship and its good, even if nothing else in your life is right, you feel like your whole world is complete.
Falling in love in this kind of isn't going to be easy... anger... tears... jealousy… every single drop of it weighing mountain on your chest but it's when you still want to be together despite it all at any cost. It’s the pain of her absence which hurts you above all and deep down you know everything in your life and around you will fall into place which she takes her designated space which you have reserved in your life.
When you smiled you had my undivided attention. When you laughed you had my urge to laugh with you. When you cried you had my urge to hold you. When you said you loved me, you had my heart forever.
You keep on thinking of ways to amuse her and most of the time it falls flat but still you don’t stop trying Oh you become creative. What gift you can ever give to your heartbeat mmm maybe healthy dietary habit and quit smoking. The one gift you will surely crave to give every moment of your life is the ability to see themselves as you see them, so they could see how truly special they are…
And people will ask you what the hell is wrong with you… don’t worry its nothing she can’t fix.
What’s my pick in all the love sayings I ever came across… “I believe in a kind of love that brings sailors home from the sea…”
-- F. Scott Fitzgerald
…Asshole stole my line but not my girl and thank god for that.
Few week back Mrs. Ashraf wrote some twisted line about love on my facebook which takes hell lot of patience to read the entire length of it and worse remember it because I know she is gonna ask if I read it and if I did what did I decipher…contemplate and what am I gonna do about it.
Usually when I am in doubt, I tend to make a fool of myself. Not saying I don’t when I am not in doubt but on second thoughts there is a microscopically thin line between being brilliantly creative and acting like the most gigantic idiot on earth. So the great Ashraf brain says, what the hell. Anyway I tried being equally philosophical about love and rattle my brain to find some witty saying then came my favorite task …Google Search… nothing fits the bill. She will sniff it out from a mile its not my words…not my thoughts nor I believe in that saying. Well that’s the bad side of marrying someone who knows you inside out.
Do you want me to tell you something really subversive? Love is everything it's cracked up to be. That's why people are so cynical about it. . . It really is worth fighting for, being brave for, risking everything for. And the trouble is, if you don't risk anything, you risk even more.
I believe in the saying Love comes when manipulation stops…
It’s the time when you think more about the other person than about his or her reactions to you… When you dare to reveal yourself fully… When you dare to be vulnerable. It’s the time when you allow them or they know you inside out… what thing can shatter you to pieces. You are honest and barely romantic. When you tell them their departure from your life won’t kill you but you will forever be colleting remaining pieces life.
God knows it was not easy… vast geographical distance brings lot of cultural, language and religion boundaries but like the say “Two people are connected at the heart, and it doesn't matter what you do, or who you are or where you live; there are no boundaries or barriers if two people are destined to be together.” It all started with a dream to build a happy life for myself. A Selfish dream just for yourself… when you are truly in love you realize in dreams and in love there are no impossibilities. However insignificant and small you are world is your turf.
Once in awhile, right in the middle of an ordinary life, love gives us a fairy tale.
So I say if you are living a fairytale… man you are in love...provided you have an ordinary life like mine… a life where you can't stop loving or wanting to love your partner because you know it’s right and it's the best thing in the world for you(till it becomes the second best). On ground reality when you're in a relationship and its good, even if nothing else in your life is right, you feel like your whole world is complete.
Falling in love in this kind of isn't going to be easy... anger... tears... jealousy… every single drop of it weighing mountain on your chest but it's when you still want to be together despite it all at any cost. It’s the pain of her absence which hurts you above all and deep down you know everything in your life and around you will fall into place which she takes her designated space which you have reserved in your life.
When you smiled you had my undivided attention. When you laughed you had my urge to laugh with you. When you cried you had my urge to hold you. When you said you loved me, you had my heart forever.
You keep on thinking of ways to amuse her and most of the time it falls flat but still you don’t stop trying Oh you become creative. What gift you can ever give to your heartbeat mmm maybe healthy dietary habit and quit smoking. The one gift you will surely crave to give every moment of your life is the ability to see themselves as you see them, so they could see how truly special they are…
And people will ask you what the hell is wrong with you… don’t worry its nothing she can’t fix.
What’s my pick in all the love sayings I ever came across… “I believe in a kind of love that brings sailors home from the sea…”
Friday, September 4, 2009
Miss Dove and Mr. Bat – Love Story?
It didn’t happen in the past, so don’t mind me not starting with Once there was.... There is this Huge tree really big... home for millions of birds... different species different colors... tree is so huge that a bird from one side of the tree may never come across a bird from the other side ever... so many birds and insects that tree is alive at any given moment, you can hear calls of so many species of birds every second of every day...100s of eagles live on the top... thinking the tree is theirs.. There is a colony of millions of parrots, crows, woodpeckers etc etc...
And then there is a colony of Bats and White dove also...
Bat you will think is common ye sure but white dove is also common if you go to their colony... but this Dove is unique... although she lived in her colony but was always interested in seeing different parts of the tree especially the part where the Crows had their colony.
One fine day, she came back from her daily chore in the evening and was about to settle down on a secluded branch when she saw a bird hanging upside down. It was time for our Mr. Bat to wake up for his night work. At first Miss Dove was bit apprehensive it was getting dark and she has not seen anything hanging upside down something so dark and hairy. She thought maybe he is Jerk trying to get a bottom top view of her chastity. What a jerk to meet at the end of her day. Well she was not completely wrong this Bat was a jerk ...not a unique jerk but a jerk alrite... he was inspired by the spiders he used to see hanging upside down daily... Spiders who work hard on spinning an artistic web to trap those ignorant insects...
Back to the evening when our Miss Dove and Mr Bat saw each other first time. Bat was smitten with love. He has not seen anything so fair... so elegant... so charming. That night when all the other birds slept and only owls and Bats like him roamed the tree he just sat their seeing his Lady Love sleeping.
As time flew by... soon bat found himself an outcast... he didn’t have a job... hanging upside down daily and doing nothing he started getting into dark mood swings the only thing good happening was those few hours when his lady love will come back in the evening and they will chat a bit before she went to sleep. He started living for those few hours of evening. Slowly our Miss Dove also fell in love and one fine day just chatting and joking they realized they love each other a lot.
They decided to get married.
A Bat getting married with a Dove!!! That caused a huge uproar in the Bat aswell as the Dove colony. Everyone had a something to say... ahh its just infatuation... this marriage will never work out... remember that dove who married a crow; her life was so pathetic later... you can’t marry a Dove she will never understand our Bat culture...
They decided they will not give much importance to what others say but will trust each other and follow their heart and prove everyone wrong. Things worked fine for some period... it was more than fine it was heavenly... but slowly things started to change. Bat was back in doing job and making arrangement for his future life with the Dove but still somewhere it was not as rosy and beautiful as it was in the start. Bat became very demanding. He won’t compromise on anything but would expect the Dove to change. Dove was scared of hanging upside down like him but Bat just won’t help her or support her. Dove promised she will never eat grains again like she did all her life but will eat those insects what he and his family eat but still Bat will demand more.
Everyday became a pain for Dove she wanted their marriage to happen, she was in love she said; like she was never before and she knew Bat loved her the most, but his attitude was killing her. She was soon to leave her colony of Dove and come to the Colony of Bat and live with his people all hanging upside down and eating insects and having different custom and way of living and she was very scared but Bat was immune. Bat was not that bad I guess he wanted to give her the best of life, he wanted to work hard... very hard and get everything settled for his lady love. They loved each other the most but still it was not 100%.
What is missing?
What should Dove do? And most importantly what should Bat be doing?
And then there is a colony of Bats and White dove also...
Bat you will think is common ye sure but white dove is also common if you go to their colony... but this Dove is unique... although she lived in her colony but was always interested in seeing different parts of the tree especially the part where the Crows had their colony.
One fine day, she came back from her daily chore in the evening and was about to settle down on a secluded branch when she saw a bird hanging upside down. It was time for our Mr. Bat to wake up for his night work. At first Miss Dove was bit apprehensive it was getting dark and she has not seen anything hanging upside down something so dark and hairy. She thought maybe he is Jerk trying to get a bottom top view of her chastity. What a jerk to meet at the end of her day. Well she was not completely wrong this Bat was a jerk ...not a unique jerk but a jerk alrite... he was inspired by the spiders he used to see hanging upside down daily... Spiders who work hard on spinning an artistic web to trap those ignorant insects...
Back to the evening when our Miss Dove and Mr Bat saw each other first time. Bat was smitten with love. He has not seen anything so fair... so elegant... so charming. That night when all the other birds slept and only owls and Bats like him roamed the tree he just sat their seeing his Lady Love sleeping.
As time flew by... soon bat found himself an outcast... he didn’t have a job... hanging upside down daily and doing nothing he started getting into dark mood swings the only thing good happening was those few hours when his lady love will come back in the evening and they will chat a bit before she went to sleep. He started living for those few hours of evening. Slowly our Miss Dove also fell in love and one fine day just chatting and joking they realized they love each other a lot.
They decided to get married.
A Bat getting married with a Dove!!! That caused a huge uproar in the Bat aswell as the Dove colony. Everyone had a something to say... ahh its just infatuation... this marriage will never work out... remember that dove who married a crow; her life was so pathetic later... you can’t marry a Dove she will never understand our Bat culture...
They decided they will not give much importance to what others say but will trust each other and follow their heart and prove everyone wrong. Things worked fine for some period... it was more than fine it was heavenly... but slowly things started to change. Bat was back in doing job and making arrangement for his future life with the Dove but still somewhere it was not as rosy and beautiful as it was in the start. Bat became very demanding. He won’t compromise on anything but would expect the Dove to change. Dove was scared of hanging upside down like him but Bat just won’t help her or support her. Dove promised she will never eat grains again like she did all her life but will eat those insects what he and his family eat but still Bat will demand more.
Everyday became a pain for Dove she wanted their marriage to happen, she was in love she said; like she was never before and she knew Bat loved her the most, but his attitude was killing her. She was soon to leave her colony of Dove and come to the Colony of Bat and live with his people all hanging upside down and eating insects and having different custom and way of living and she was very scared but Bat was immune. Bat was not that bad I guess he wanted to give her the best of life, he wanted to work hard... very hard and get everything settled for his lady love. They loved each other the most but still it was not 100%.
What is missing?
What should Dove do? And most importantly what should Bat be doing?
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Mom Vs Wife
Here’s a sticky situation that many of you may deal with…of course once you are married or on the verge of getting married.
Mom vs. Wife is the epic saga that has plagued many families and put the husband-sons in the most ultimate “damned if you do” situations. I really feel for my brothers, but I would be lying if I didn’t say that I think the wife comes in at a grave disadvantage especially if the mom is still below 60 and loud in saying and clear in hearing. Not only does the wife have to compete with the mother-in-law for the husband-son’s love and time, but she has to do so with kindness and understanding. I mean really, sons and mothers…forget about it. That is a bond that when it is strong, is virtually unbreakable.
We guys take pride in being called Mamma’s boy till the wife walks in and wants to change the world upside down, most hit with this tsunami is mama dear.
And so my friends, the power struggle begins.
The quest for ultimate supremacy is on. Who takes top spot on husband-son’s priority list? Basically, who’s number 1? On one hand, you have the woman who actually gave life to your husband, clothed, and fed him for years. On the other hand, you have the woman he has picked to be his life mate and bear his children. She has left her family, comfort everything to walk side by side in all your triumphs and tragedies. It’s not so simple.
Hmmm…Don’t think I have the answer, because I don’t. I know some people will have very strong views about this topic based on what they’ve gone through individually but honestly I don’t have any answer, because the moment you start seeking an answer it means you are ready to give a pound of your flesh to someone and I am not ready to do that. Be it my mom or my wife.
Stupidity sometime lies at our end as well when we start comparing Mom with wife or more often seeing wife from a mother’s prism. Get real guys, your mom is 50+ fat and flabby and probably she is not ashamed of farting in front of you she calls its natural cause. You don’t want your wife to be like your Mom, your Mom is best handled by your Dad. Don’t try to change it.
At times we guys also have the tendency of declaring our parents dead before they actually are. That’s not being wife lover that’s being stupid... no one can cook as good as your mom irrespective of how bad a cook she is... you are used to her kind of extra oil extra fat food. Don’t think your wife will take all those shit what your mom is capable of taking she thinks your shitty attitude is her by product.
Life is not Boat in a storm situation and you got to save either your mom or your wife, I think my mom and my future wife is too smart to present such situation in front of me because both of them know if that’s the case I am going to abandon both of them and swim to a brand new girl on the shore... So I say when its Mom Vs Wife take time out and discuss with your GF!!
Mom vs. Wife is the epic saga that has plagued many families and put the husband-sons in the most ultimate “damned if you do” situations. I really feel for my brothers, but I would be lying if I didn’t say that I think the wife comes in at a grave disadvantage especially if the mom is still below 60 and loud in saying and clear in hearing. Not only does the wife have to compete with the mother-in-law for the husband-son’s love and time, but she has to do so with kindness and understanding. I mean really, sons and mothers…forget about it. That is a bond that when it is strong, is virtually unbreakable.
We guys take pride in being called Mamma’s boy till the wife walks in and wants to change the world upside down, most hit with this tsunami is mama dear.
And so my friends, the power struggle begins.
The quest for ultimate supremacy is on. Who takes top spot on husband-son’s priority list? Basically, who’s number 1? On one hand, you have the woman who actually gave life to your husband, clothed, and fed him for years. On the other hand, you have the woman he has picked to be his life mate and bear his children. She has left her family, comfort everything to walk side by side in all your triumphs and tragedies. It’s not so simple.
Hmmm…Don’t think I have the answer, because I don’t. I know some people will have very strong views about this topic based on what they’ve gone through individually but honestly I don’t have any answer, because the moment you start seeking an answer it means you are ready to give a pound of your flesh to someone and I am not ready to do that. Be it my mom or my wife.
Stupidity sometime lies at our end as well when we start comparing Mom with wife or more often seeing wife from a mother’s prism. Get real guys, your mom is 50+ fat and flabby and probably she is not ashamed of farting in front of you she calls its natural cause. You don’t want your wife to be like your Mom, your Mom is best handled by your Dad. Don’t try to change it.
At times we guys also have the tendency of declaring our parents dead before they actually are. That’s not being wife lover that’s being stupid... no one can cook as good as your mom irrespective of how bad a cook she is... you are used to her kind of extra oil extra fat food. Don’t think your wife will take all those shit what your mom is capable of taking she thinks your shitty attitude is her by product.
Life is not Boat in a storm situation and you got to save either your mom or your wife, I think my mom and my future wife is too smart to present such situation in front of me because both of them know if that’s the case I am going to abandon both of them and swim to a brand new girl on the shore... So I say when its Mom Vs Wife take time out and discuss with your GF!!
Thursday, August 27, 2009
4.8 Million Great Britain Pounds Sterling!!!
Hi Laura,
Thanks for trusting me with this Noble job of utilising your late husbands 4.8 Million GBP. I have always wanted to help the less privileged and destiny kicked fellow humans in my life. Although I never had money to help them financially I always include them in my daily prayers before sleeping. I request you not to die before you transfer me the money. I am not a bad person you can ask my wife and my mother also. Recently my country is hit by Swine flu as well and people are dying like swine or killing swine. I also want to help people suffering from swine flu and poor pigs who just cant help shitting flu. So once you die after transferring the money to me I can assure you not only these people but the animals also whom I will save will include you in their prayers.
Let me know how soon can you send me the money.
Very sincerely
Ashraf
From: Laura J. Carvon [mailto:bjosie@bellsouth.net]
Sent: 20 August 2009 18:45
To: undisclosed recipients:
Subject: Dear Friend
Dear Friend,
I hope that this e-mail reached you in the right frame of Mind.
I am Mrs laura j Carvon , I am suffering from cancerous ailment,When my late husband was alive he deposited the sum of 4.8 Million Great Britain Pounds Sterling which were derived from his vast estates and investment in capital market with his bank here in UK. Presently, this money is still with the Bank. Recently, my Doctor told me that I have limited days to live due to the cancerous problems I am suffering from. Though what bothers me most is the stroke that I have in addition to the cancer. With this hard reality that has befallen my family and me, I have decided to donate this fund to you and want you to use this gift which comes from my husbands effort to fund the upkeep of widows, widowers, orphans, destitute, the down-trodden, physically challenged children, barren women and persons who prove to be genuinely handicapped financially.
Please contact me on the email below for further clarifications:
laurajenkinscharity@w.cn
Sincerely,
laura j Carvon.
Thanks for trusting me with this Noble job of utilising your late husbands 4.8 Million GBP. I have always wanted to help the less privileged and destiny kicked fellow humans in my life. Although I never had money to help them financially I always include them in my daily prayers before sleeping. I request you not to die before you transfer me the money. I am not a bad person you can ask my wife and my mother also. Recently my country is hit by Swine flu as well and people are dying like swine or killing swine. I also want to help people suffering from swine flu and poor pigs who just cant help shitting flu. So once you die after transferring the money to me I can assure you not only these people but the animals also whom I will save will include you in their prayers.
Let me know how soon can you send me the money.
Very sincerely
Ashraf
From: Laura J. Carvon [mailto:bjosie@bellsouth.net]
Sent: 20 August 2009 18:45
To: undisclosed recipients:
Subject: Dear Friend
Dear Friend,
I hope that this e-mail reached you in the right frame of Mind.
I am Mrs laura j Carvon , I am suffering from cancerous ailment,When my late husband was alive he deposited the sum of 4.8 Million Great Britain Pounds Sterling which were derived from his vast estates and investment in capital market with his bank here in UK. Presently, this money is still with the Bank. Recently, my Doctor told me that I have limited days to live due to the cancerous problems I am suffering from. Though what bothers me most is the stroke that I have in addition to the cancer. With this hard reality that has befallen my family and me, I have decided to donate this fund to you and want you to use this gift which comes from my husbands effort to fund the upkeep of widows, widowers, orphans, destitute, the down-trodden, physically challenged children, barren women and persons who prove to be genuinely handicapped financially.
Please contact me on the email below for further clarifications:
laurajenkinscharity@w.cn
Sincerely,
laura j Carvon.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Being Creative Elephant
The problem is never how to get new, innovative thoughts into your mind, but how to get old ones out. Every mind is a building filled with archaic furniture. Clean out a corner of your mind and creativity will instantly fill it. – Dee Hock
When still a baby, the elephant is tethered by a very thick rope to a stake firmly hammered into the ground. The elephant tries several times to get free, but it lacks the strength to do so. After some time, the animal gives up trying, believing that it cannot be free.
At this point, the trainer changes the thick rope to a thin one but the elephant makes no attempt to run away. Even when the elephant reaches adulthood, it continues to be tethered by a thin rope, reconciled to its captivity.
As we grow up and gain experience, we absorb assumptions which then drive our life and limit our choices. They are similar to the elephant’s thin rope tied to a post. We can break away from them with a simple tug if we want to but we don’t.
As we acquire more and more experience, our repertoire of blind assumptions grows too, correspondingly limiting our choices. Our experience becomes a hindrance in our being creative.
I have identified few of such tethers of elephant size which more than often holds me back from being creative. Questions is am I willing to break free... I am not sure... what do you think?
What will people think?
My self-consciousness is one big hurdle in my being creative. I don’t even try to do so many things in life because I am afraid of making a fool of myself. We waste a lot of our energy in protecting ourself and presenting a ‘good’ image.
We had no such inhibitions as a child and therefore we were naturally creative. It is perhaps the fear of the unknown and what might happen that makes us self-conscious. It holds us back and hinders our creativity.
When we walk into something in spite of the fear, it simply vanishes because by then the unknown turns into the known. The trick is not to think in terms of conquering fear but being with it.
That’s what I did lately when cupid struck me... I got my life partner...not saying every time you do that you will get your life partner but it will be worthwhile...try it...you can check Mrs.Ashraf’s snap to boost your morale :)
But I’ve never had any great ideas!
Most people don’t have enough opportunities to bring out their creativity. So their creative abilities remain untapped. It seems to make no difference because not being creative is not too inconvenient.
Being creative is actually a search for a better way and in today’s world most solutions come ready-made. Most of the things that you do have been researched and the ‘best’ ways to do them have been arrived at.
Most people follow the standard ‘best’ ways without questioning – how to clean teeth, how to reach office, etc. They do a great number of tasks automatically.
Trying a ‘different way’ may in fact be inconvenient in most situations – driving speed, the route to office, how to tie your shoe knots, standing in the queues, etc.
Most of these automatic ways are perhaps good. By sticking with them, you are able to accomplish many tasks without thinking. They save time but you end up with the habit of not thinking afresh.
Over time, you develop attitudes and assumptions which prevent you from thinking creatively, locking you into the existing ways of thinking and doing things. You become a prisoner of familiarity. You never have great ideas.
As a result, even when the need arises for you to think differently and generate new ideas, you are unable to do so.
I somehow am unable to break this shackle. If you can, share the trick.
What is the right answer?
One of the worst aspects of formal education is the focus on the correct answer to a question or problem. When somebody asks a question, you generally give an acceptable answer instead of an original one fearing it might be wrong.
While this approach helps you to function smoothly in society, it hurts creative thinking. Real-life issues are ambiguous. There is no one single answer to any problem. There can be several answers if only you think about them. They may all be contradictory and yet correct. Women are great in that. My wife at the risk of being stupid ends up making me feel stupid, rigid and uni-focused.
I don’t want to fail.
The fear of failure is something that you learn in school…and it never just goes away. All through school, you perhaps take hundreds of tests, exams, assignments, etc. You are in one big trouble if you fail even once. You are scared of failure.
By the time you finish school, the fear of failure has seeped into your system and you avoid situations which could result in failure. You are extra-careful about whatever you take up. You learn the art of playing safe.
The fear of failure does not let us try new things, crippling our creativity. If you look back and if you are someone like me perhaps you will find more failures than triumphs. Makes you wonder what did that fear actually result in actual?
That’s not my area.
Creativity requires finding connections between unrelated things. The diversity of your interests and experiences enhances your ability to find connections.
When you explore completely unrelated areas, you are pleasantly surprised by the interrelatedness of almost everything. You start seeing new possibilities when you discover new connections.
In an era of hyper-specialization, the scope of work is getting narrower and narrower. Loss of creativity is the immediate casualty.
Sticking to ones area is bound to takes it toll on being Creative
I don’t like uncertainty.
If you are not confused, you are not thinking clearly – Tom Peters
Till few months I didn’t know what the above shit means...
When people are confused, they feel compelled to resolve the situation quickly, making it systematic and orderly again. They are likely to miss the key issues in their haste to do so.
There is something in our culture or perhaps in the education system, which makes us want to be ‘knowers’ rather than ‘find-outers’.
This attachment to ‘knowing’ makes you feel jittery and inept when you ‘don’t know’. This tendency is so engrained that even small kids begin to lose their curiosity in order to become ‘knowers’.
However, when it comes to creative thinking, not knowing is a good thing and ambiguity is a great thing. Certainty is the enemy of creativity.
If you are certain about something, you don’t have much leeway to generate new ideas to solve problems.
That’s the way it is done!
The need for standard ways of doing things is perfectly legitimate. But then it gives rise to an ever increasing number of rules that govern people’s lives.
While some of the rules are legitimate, some are totally unfounded. They are not very different from the thin rope that tethers the elephant. This is bane of our Indian society which I am the byproduct. Maybe in next post I will tell you more about what a fool I make of myself most of the time when I talk with my wife on the way things should be done.
Everyone says so.
When all think alike, then no one is thinking. — Walter Lippman
The desire to belong is a powerful one and at times it leads to ‘groupthink’. This herd approach is probably a relic from the cave age. It is important to have a mind of your own in order to be creative. I can say I came out of the cave but unfortunately I still reside on the trees.
I feel safe when I am like everyone else.
People start off as unique beings. They are very different from each other as children and young adults with their very own likes and dislikes.
Yet, as if by magic, they get into a common mould after they reach their thirties. Their likes, dislikes, wants, needs and goals somehow begin to converge. They seem to become more and more like one another.
As a result, their creative abilities suffer. I am still few years away from reaching my thirties. What age are you?
I have strong views and firm opinions.
There are people who pride themselves for having firm stands and being inflexible. They have strong views and unshakable opinions. They are too judgmental.
Being judgmental means blocking or ignoring other points of views. It means reducing your options and leaving your mind with much less to work with. It is then reflected in your ability to generate ideas and solutions.
When you are nonjudgmental, you have an open mind. You have more choices. Being nonjudgmental reduces the surface functioning of your mind, stimulating its deeper functioning.
The trick is to allow ones unconscious mind to throw up more ideas into his conscious mind.
Why keep thinking unnecessarily when I have found the answer?
Such is the hurry to find a solution that people are satisfied with the first one that comes to their mind. They stop thinking further.
However, if you don’t share your ‘first’ idea and keep thinking more and more, the subsequent ones are sure to be better.
The more you think, the more the chances to find better solutions. You never know when you will hit the jackpot.
When still a baby, the elephant is tethered by a very thick rope to a stake firmly hammered into the ground. The elephant tries several times to get free, but it lacks the strength to do so. After some time, the animal gives up trying, believing that it cannot be free.
At this point, the trainer changes the thick rope to a thin one but the elephant makes no attempt to run away. Even when the elephant reaches adulthood, it continues to be tethered by a thin rope, reconciled to its captivity.
As we grow up and gain experience, we absorb assumptions which then drive our life and limit our choices. They are similar to the elephant’s thin rope tied to a post. We can break away from them with a simple tug if we want to but we don’t.
As we acquire more and more experience, our repertoire of blind assumptions grows too, correspondingly limiting our choices. Our experience becomes a hindrance in our being creative.
I have identified few of such tethers of elephant size which more than often holds me back from being creative. Questions is am I willing to break free... I am not sure... what do you think?
What will people think?
My self-consciousness is one big hurdle in my being creative. I don’t even try to do so many things in life because I am afraid of making a fool of myself. We waste a lot of our energy in protecting ourself and presenting a ‘good’ image.
We had no such inhibitions as a child and therefore we were naturally creative. It is perhaps the fear of the unknown and what might happen that makes us self-conscious. It holds us back and hinders our creativity.
When we walk into something in spite of the fear, it simply vanishes because by then the unknown turns into the known. The trick is not to think in terms of conquering fear but being with it.
That’s what I did lately when cupid struck me... I got my life partner...not saying every time you do that you will get your life partner but it will be worthwhile...try it...you can check Mrs.Ashraf’s snap to boost your morale :)
But I’ve never had any great ideas!
Most people don’t have enough opportunities to bring out their creativity. So their creative abilities remain untapped. It seems to make no difference because not being creative is not too inconvenient.
Being creative is actually a search for a better way and in today’s world most solutions come ready-made. Most of the things that you do have been researched and the ‘best’ ways to do them have been arrived at.
Most people follow the standard ‘best’ ways without questioning – how to clean teeth, how to reach office, etc. They do a great number of tasks automatically.
Trying a ‘different way’ may in fact be inconvenient in most situations – driving speed, the route to office, how to tie your shoe knots, standing in the queues, etc.
Most of these automatic ways are perhaps good. By sticking with them, you are able to accomplish many tasks without thinking. They save time but you end up with the habit of not thinking afresh.
Over time, you develop attitudes and assumptions which prevent you from thinking creatively, locking you into the existing ways of thinking and doing things. You become a prisoner of familiarity. You never have great ideas.
As a result, even when the need arises for you to think differently and generate new ideas, you are unable to do so.
I somehow am unable to break this shackle. If you can, share the trick.
What is the right answer?
One of the worst aspects of formal education is the focus on the correct answer to a question or problem. When somebody asks a question, you generally give an acceptable answer instead of an original one fearing it might be wrong.
While this approach helps you to function smoothly in society, it hurts creative thinking. Real-life issues are ambiguous. There is no one single answer to any problem. There can be several answers if only you think about them. They may all be contradictory and yet correct. Women are great in that. My wife at the risk of being stupid ends up making me feel stupid, rigid and uni-focused.
I don’t want to fail.
The fear of failure is something that you learn in school…and it never just goes away. All through school, you perhaps take hundreds of tests, exams, assignments, etc. You are in one big trouble if you fail even once. You are scared of failure.
By the time you finish school, the fear of failure has seeped into your system and you avoid situations which could result in failure. You are extra-careful about whatever you take up. You learn the art of playing safe.
The fear of failure does not let us try new things, crippling our creativity. If you look back and if you are someone like me perhaps you will find more failures than triumphs. Makes you wonder what did that fear actually result in actual?
That’s not my area.
Creativity requires finding connections between unrelated things. The diversity of your interests and experiences enhances your ability to find connections.
When you explore completely unrelated areas, you are pleasantly surprised by the interrelatedness of almost everything. You start seeing new possibilities when you discover new connections.
In an era of hyper-specialization, the scope of work is getting narrower and narrower. Loss of creativity is the immediate casualty.
Sticking to ones area is bound to takes it toll on being Creative
I don’t like uncertainty.
If you are not confused, you are not thinking clearly – Tom Peters
Till few months I didn’t know what the above shit means...
When people are confused, they feel compelled to resolve the situation quickly, making it systematic and orderly again. They are likely to miss the key issues in their haste to do so.
There is something in our culture or perhaps in the education system, which makes us want to be ‘knowers’ rather than ‘find-outers’.
This attachment to ‘knowing’ makes you feel jittery and inept when you ‘don’t know’. This tendency is so engrained that even small kids begin to lose their curiosity in order to become ‘knowers’.
However, when it comes to creative thinking, not knowing is a good thing and ambiguity is a great thing. Certainty is the enemy of creativity.
If you are certain about something, you don’t have much leeway to generate new ideas to solve problems.
That’s the way it is done!
The need for standard ways of doing things is perfectly legitimate. But then it gives rise to an ever increasing number of rules that govern people’s lives.
While some of the rules are legitimate, some are totally unfounded. They are not very different from the thin rope that tethers the elephant. This is bane of our Indian society which I am the byproduct. Maybe in next post I will tell you more about what a fool I make of myself most of the time when I talk with my wife on the way things should be done.
Everyone says so.
When all think alike, then no one is thinking. — Walter Lippman
The desire to belong is a powerful one and at times it leads to ‘groupthink’. This herd approach is probably a relic from the cave age. It is important to have a mind of your own in order to be creative. I can say I came out of the cave but unfortunately I still reside on the trees.
I feel safe when I am like everyone else.
People start off as unique beings. They are very different from each other as children and young adults with their very own likes and dislikes.
Yet, as if by magic, they get into a common mould after they reach their thirties. Their likes, dislikes, wants, needs and goals somehow begin to converge. They seem to become more and more like one another.
As a result, their creative abilities suffer. I am still few years away from reaching my thirties. What age are you?
I have strong views and firm opinions.
There are people who pride themselves for having firm stands and being inflexible. They have strong views and unshakable opinions. They are too judgmental.
Being judgmental means blocking or ignoring other points of views. It means reducing your options and leaving your mind with much less to work with. It is then reflected in your ability to generate ideas and solutions.
When you are nonjudgmental, you have an open mind. You have more choices. Being nonjudgmental reduces the surface functioning of your mind, stimulating its deeper functioning.
The trick is to allow ones unconscious mind to throw up more ideas into his conscious mind.
Why keep thinking unnecessarily when I have found the answer?
Such is the hurry to find a solution that people are satisfied with the first one that comes to their mind. They stop thinking further.
However, if you don’t share your ‘first’ idea and keep thinking more and more, the subsequent ones are sure to be better.
The more you think, the more the chances to find better solutions. You never know when you will hit the jackpot.
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