By Arooj Kohli of 2nd Year:
TO THE WIND:
Do you still wander upon his doorstep softly creaking the wooden stairs below?
Does your breeze still rustle the leaves on the tree in his front yard?
Or do you playfully jostle the swing set that his father so enthusiastically set up for him?
Perhaps your whirlwinds of air still race across the sleek exterior of his car?
Or just before rainfall your air mingled with dirt sneaks into the crevices of the windshield paying homage to the medical sticker brazenly sitting above?
Do your swift blows still seek to accompany his father’s fingers running through his young child’s soft hair?
Or do they recoil in sorrow knowing no further birthdays will need their help in blowing out the festive candles of yesterday?
Does your current run alongside the funeral procession as he once ran in youth when you aided him into his father’s wide-open arms?
Or do you linger at the edges of the wooden casket fearing lest you whisk him too quickly from his father?
Is your ailing heart so filled with grief that you do not move to dry his father’s tear-stained face?
Or is it paralyzed with despair at being doomed to loiter upon his gravestone never to reunite the father to his son again?
Dedicated to our Dear Sir Javed Aslam whose son died in the blast yesterday on Friday, May 28, 2010. May God grant him paradise and give peace and consolation to his family. Ameen.
TO THE WIND:
Do you still wander upon his doorstep softly creaking the wooden stairs below?
Does your breeze still rustle the leaves on the tree in his front yard?
Or do you playfully jostle the swing set that his father so enthusiastically set up for him?
Perhaps your whirlwinds of air still race across the sleek exterior of his car?
Or just before rainfall your air mingled with dirt sneaks into the crevices of the windshield paying homage to the medical sticker brazenly sitting above?
Do your swift blows still seek to accompany his father’s fingers running through his young child’s soft hair?
Or do they recoil in sorrow knowing no further birthdays will need their help in blowing out the festive candles of yesterday?
Does your current run alongside the funeral procession as he once ran in youth when you aided him into his father’s wide-open arms?
Or do you linger at the edges of the wooden casket fearing lest you whisk him too quickly from his father?
Is your ailing heart so filled with grief that you do not move to dry his father’s tear-stained face?
Or is it paralyzed with despair at being doomed to loiter upon his gravestone never to reunite the father to his son again?
Dedicated to our Dear Sir Javed Aslam whose son died in the blast yesterday on Friday, May 28, 2010. May God grant him paradise and give peace and consolation to his family. Ameen.
I am glad to announce that the results of Pakistan Blog Awards have been declared, and I have won the Best Individual Blogger award for my personal blog A Myth in Creation! :D
I have never seen a bigger procrastinator! Yes dear reader, it’s I who I am talking about. Every day since the inception of this blog, I have been willing myself to cough up a para or so of my own to contribute to the well-publicized blog as the charts said that writing for the blog will all of a sudden change me from the dull boring personality I am to a sensational and witty, full of acumen wonder girl. But I just could not sit down and jot down (or rather type in) the clamorous thoughts of my otherwise quite fecund brain into a beautiful symphony of words that would outclass anything else written for the blog… (I am always impressed by how much egotistical, self-obsessed snobs can human beings be!)
For starters, (it’s my sheer hope that this entry will lead to hundreds of others too:p) I will ramble on about my ultimate kemcolian experiences… lo and behold! I have always been a strong supporter of the idea that there are first-timers in life that you don’t enjoy at the moment but afterwards you look upon them with such an affection that forces you to dissolve into teary laughs. For the crème-de-la-crème of the nation the first-timers mostly revolve around the hitherto inexperienced insults during vivas and failures in the written tests; shunting out of the lecture theatres for crimes committed by a devilish, sneaky, next-seat-student; thwarted in practicals by the frogs and the cadavers in the dissection hours; banging of the door against your sensitive nose with the declaration that you were not wanted in the so-and-so class, practial, viva, tutorial etcetera etcetera. But how so often these may occur and how so unforgettable these may be, they do not make to the top slot of the ultimate kemcolian experiences. The ultimacy resides in the fact that the events that I enlist here are not academic but strictly extra-curricular. I still remember the time vividly when I applied to the post of class representative in the debating society and I was whooping inside with glee for having submitted the CV without arising any suspicions among my friends, and was bursting with pleasure as I reveled in the thought that no one, I repeat, NO ONE, other than me would have seen the notice board. I do not know where the naiveté bore into me but I thought that miraculously no one else would have seen the notice board other than me… confidence upon over-confidence I say! But on the day of the interview, (as I supported my best attire in the false belief that the interview will be a world-class, close to diplomatic, official discussion, in which other than revealing the pearls of my wisdom I will be required to make an APPEARANCE ;) ) I found out that there were other people too who not only look at the notice board to see their reflection but also care to check what is displayed. My first ultimate kemcolian experience and my realization: “PEOPLE OTHER THAN YOU CARE TO CHECK NOTICE BOARD TOO!”
Next ultimate kemcolian experience came with the tide of the events in the blooming spring. One after the other, short video competition, drama, story writing competition, intercollegiate events, sports, funfair and so on into the wee summer months came the inter-class declamation competition. I was blind-folded by the previous record of my abilities and what I failed to see was that this time it was the kemcrowd that I would be facing. Anyone who had been once to the declamation competition need not be explained what happened afterwards. The next kemcolian experience and the realization: “ WHEN YOU ARE AT KEMU, IT’S KEMCOLIANS YOU SHOULD FEAR AT THE DEBATES AND DAMN THE JUDGES”
Was that the yawn I just saw? Now see it’s not very flattering to see someone yawning over your write-up! I would rather have you swooning over it because of the uniqueness and ingenuity of the material, the wit of the writer, so forth… but yawning is not “whats I s likes!” (Now go on guessing whom I imitated in adding the extra s-es!)
For your sake I will begin to be short and conclusive… the ultimate kemcolian experiences also encompass the first ever visit and then daily ritualistic visits to oh-so-famous-but-not-so-scrumptuous-al-karim, the dash across the patiala stairs in heavy downpour with the friends, hang man and Pac man competitions in kemcaana, the threatening proxy escapades, umbrella shopping in baking sun, the palpitations in send-up and profs, waiting together for the prof viva turns… it’s strange how you come close to the people whom you never bothered to greet during normal days, and it’s so sweet how you develop so much in the critical hour amongst you fellows, and it’s so befitting how we come together to become the esprit-de-corps and then remain so when the threats are over. The ultimate kemcolian experiences are those of bitter-sweet memories and emotions, of friends and friendship, of mistakes , apologies and laughs, I am lucky to have got this all from this alma mater. I can just look forward with eagerness to what comes next in the 70 percent of my med education yet left!
(If my write-up falls short of your idea of beautiful, coherent symphony of words then I must tell you that these hostel computer lab chairs have khatmal in them and currently as you read this I am supporting red itch some blisters on the back of the thigh. So consider it a blessing that I even came this far in coherency! You would not have been able to type a single sentence gracing this horrible seat :p )
For starters, (it’s my sheer hope that this entry will lead to hundreds of others too:p) I will ramble on about my ultimate kemcolian experiences… lo and behold! I have always been a strong supporter of the idea that there are first-timers in life that you don’t enjoy at the moment but afterwards you look upon them with such an affection that forces you to dissolve into teary laughs. For the crème-de-la-crème of the nation the first-timers mostly revolve around the hitherto inexperienced insults during vivas and failures in the written tests; shunting out of the lecture theatres for crimes committed by a devilish, sneaky, next-seat-student; thwarted in practicals by the frogs and the cadavers in the dissection hours; banging of the door against your sensitive nose with the declaration that you were not wanted in the so-and-so class, practial, viva, tutorial etcetera etcetera. But how so often these may occur and how so unforgettable these may be, they do not make to the top slot of the ultimate kemcolian experiences. The ultimacy resides in the fact that the events that I enlist here are not academic but strictly extra-curricular. I still remember the time vividly when I applied to the post of class representative in the debating society and I was whooping inside with glee for having submitted the CV without arising any suspicions among my friends, and was bursting with pleasure as I reveled in the thought that no one, I repeat, NO ONE, other than me would have seen the notice board. I do not know where the naiveté bore into me but I thought that miraculously no one else would have seen the notice board other than me… confidence upon over-confidence I say! But on the day of the interview, (as I supported my best attire in the false belief that the interview will be a world-class, close to diplomatic, official discussion, in which other than revealing the pearls of my wisdom I will be required to make an APPEARANCE ;) ) I found out that there were other people too who not only look at the notice board to see their reflection but also care to check what is displayed. My first ultimate kemcolian experience and my realization: “PEOPLE OTHER THAN YOU CARE TO CHECK NOTICE BOARD TOO!”
Next ultimate kemcolian experience came with the tide of the events in the blooming spring. One after the other, short video competition, drama, story writing competition, intercollegiate events, sports, funfair and so on into the wee summer months came the inter-class declamation competition. I was blind-folded by the previous record of my abilities and what I failed to see was that this time it was the kemcrowd that I would be facing. Anyone who had been once to the declamation competition need not be explained what happened afterwards. The next kemcolian experience and the realization: “ WHEN YOU ARE AT KEMU, IT’S KEMCOLIANS YOU SHOULD FEAR AT THE DEBATES AND DAMN THE JUDGES”
Was that the yawn I just saw? Now see it’s not very flattering to see someone yawning over your write-up! I would rather have you swooning over it because of the uniqueness and ingenuity of the material, the wit of the writer, so forth… but yawning is not “whats I s likes!” (Now go on guessing whom I imitated in adding the extra s-es!)
For your sake I will begin to be short and conclusive… the ultimate kemcolian experiences also encompass the first ever visit and then daily ritualistic visits to oh-so-famous-but-not-so-scrumptuous-al-karim, the dash across the patiala stairs in heavy downpour with the friends, hang man and Pac man competitions in kemcaana, the threatening proxy escapades, umbrella shopping in baking sun, the palpitations in send-up and profs, waiting together for the prof viva turns… it’s strange how you come close to the people whom you never bothered to greet during normal days, and it’s so sweet how you develop so much in the critical hour amongst you fellows, and it’s so befitting how we come together to become the esprit-de-corps and then remain so when the threats are over. The ultimate kemcolian experiences are those of bitter-sweet memories and emotions, of friends and friendship, of mistakes , apologies and laughs, I am lucky to have got this all from this alma mater. I can just look forward with eagerness to what comes next in the 70 percent of my med education yet left!
(If my write-up falls short of your idea of beautiful, coherent symphony of words then I must tell you that these hostel computer lab chairs have khatmal in them and currently as you read this I am supporting red itch some blisters on the back of the thigh. So consider it a blessing that I even came this far in coherency! You would not have been able to type a single sentence gracing this horrible seat :p )
(Click to enlarge)