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 »
Tagged with Countdowns …
Day 2.
Effectively the last day. Technically one more date till you are here. Effectively less than 24 hours. Technically still a long way to go. I honestly cannot wait to have you here. And this is just for you and you alone. For all the days that are sad, mad, bad, glad.. this is for you.
Day 3. Far from the madding family hooplas.
Lot of people around me, people that I personally know, people that I’m friends with, tell me such heartwarming stories about their families. How they miss their parents, how close they are to their siblings and how a daughter is supposed to be a spitting image of her mother. Drumroll please. Cue Conversations with a … Continue reading »
Day 5. Shit my uncle says.
Over the past couple of days, I’ve gotten to take more of The Uncle’s incredibly insane ideas because I have more than our usual only-on-weekends deal. Here are a few gems. Priceless. Dengue is spread by America. How can I prove it? Well, there was an article in the newspaper that said dengue was spread … Continue reading »
Day 6. Lessons in humility.
So Jibran wouldn’t stop crying. He just wouldn’t. He cried and he cried. He cried until he had hiccups. He cried inconsolably. And I tried rocking him, giving him water, I even tried losing my head and yelling at a 21-month-old. That’s what happens when you’ve spent so much time alone just unable to think … Continue reading »
Day 8. Out of poetic stuff.
B. You do not get to complain about how stuff is in Pak. The relatives, the traffic, the parking spots. No. Because I not only get the annoying-relative deal I also get the be-alone-and-be-a-mom deal. Conversation with a Verdict. Or maybe I should just rename this into “Stuff People Say that Bugs the Fucking Crap … Continue reading »
Day 9. Making sense out of nothing at all.
Dear B. Oh dear, dear B. How do women do it? How do single, working mothers do it? Jibran has the flu. And it is taking ALL of my energy to not go bananas. She Who Shall Not Be Named left her kid with me for about an hour, to top it off. The kid … Continue reading »
Day 10. Dreading the weekendlessness.
I hate it when people see me cry in public. And that was my Diwali story in one small line. I think I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again but Mother Nature is a bitch. She’s sexist and doesn’t like women at all. Because if she did, she wouldn’t have blessed women with … Continue reading »
Day 11. Crying in a blue dream.
I was walking home from Al Jazira when I heard an annoying man speaking at an annoyingly loud pitch on his cell. “I want to know why that woman kept saying that!” I walked faster, but he seemed to be going in the exact same direction I was. Shit. “What happened after that?! I want … Continue reading »
Day 17. A different kind of desolation.
Hey, B. Glad you’ve reached safely. Did you know google shows 1,120,000,000 results if you type the word ‘distance’? And 699,000,000 results if you type ‘missing you’? It shows all kinds of images and weird quotes and song lyrics and whatnot if you type ‘love’. Over 7080 000 000 results. I bet you’re laughing at … Continue reading »
