It was the summer surrounding my organic chemistry exam. The wooden desks that had already been graffiti-ed by many a frustrated student before me. My white DCW Karachi uniform was splattered at the pocket, where my many ink-pens had been sitting (I never liked dorky pencil/stationery cases) and my forehead was icky and sweaty. I … Continue reading »
Filed under My vents …
I’m getting too old for this shit.
There was a time when I’d have a list. I’d have a list of people I was close to. A list of people – who were the ‘chosen ones’, the people who were game-changers. Their inputs mattered. If I didn’t get to speak to them through the day, it would feel like there was something … Continue reading »
Project Paneer and others.
Store-bought paneer is a godsent. It really is. All the authentic vegetarian dishes can be made through store-brought paneer and there really is no hassle of creating it with a malmal dopatta and lemon juice and vinegar. I made paneer and veggie stir fry made with store-brought paneer and it turned out pretty good. Which … Continue reading »
A Morning in Mommytown.
Jibran wakes up at 6.30 a.m. He plays with my hands, gives me those giant smiles of his that make me forget just how crappy it is to wake up at 6.30 a.m. after dreaming of Italy and the French Riviera. And to know that you can’t possibly see the Riviera until the smiling little … Continue reading »
Best Twitter Bios. #truestory
The way social media is evolving is hardly something that can be ignored. To roughly quote Will Schuester from Glee, “Thanks to Tumblr, Facebook, Blogs and twitter, there’s just so much increased pressure for social judgments and evaluations”. If Facebook wasn’t enough to make sure we shared every detail from our lives, Twitter and Tumblr … Continue reading »
Toddler, tantrums and tolerance.
I love being a mom. And I can’t say that enough. I love it for the challenges it brings to me every day. I love it for the physical and emotional juggernaut it proves to be each day for me. I love it for the things it has given me. Pride, humility, pain, joy, hope, … Continue reading »
The Hero. (part seven)
Raghib sat with his feet up on the windowsill. It was getting colder. November was always such a pleasant month in Karachi. The window was open and he could smell the breeze and the jasmines his mother had planted out in the yard, right under his window. Somewhere inside the house, he could hear old … Continue reading »
The Hero. (part six)
Nazia was sobbing hysterically. “He’s gone, Ammijan, he’s gone! He’s gone to Afghanistan! Allah, he’s gone! My husband is gone! This is worse than death! I won’t even know if he’s going to die – is he going to die? Is he going to die, Bhaijan? Is Shakaib going to die? How will I know … Continue reading »
Project Wonton.
I’ve always been fascinated with Chinese food. Apart from eating raw fish, what they do with veggies and spices is brilliant. Not to mention that my childhood is dotted with numerous experiences where we’re having dinner in some corner restaurant that serves Chinese cuisine with a desi tarka. To this day, whenever I’m at a … Continue reading »
Girls don’t cry.
In the modern world that you and I know right now, being effeminate has become a slur. And not just for boys. We’ve got shops that sport the sign “Clothes for the Working Woman” in a so-called conservative country like Pakistan. Slacks are in, loafers are cool, no more teased-up hairdos, let the hair down, … Continue reading »
