Rao Laziz Biryani … needs to get it.
Went to my friend’s place that day. They were shooting an extremely low budget music video for their song that is appropriately named ‘soowar’ as in ‘pig’. Was forced to participate in the video wearing a red wig and acting crazy. Comparable to a rape experience stretched over a couple of hours, where after a while, you just start going with the flow (I sound like I’m speaking from experience which I assure you, random stumbler on the blog, is not the case. Yet.)
Currently suffering from an extreme case of lethargy and a minor case of writer’s block. Honestly speaking though, I believe ‘writer’s block’ is a term conjoined up by lazy ass writers who couldn’t be bothered to get off their asses to write and needed something as an excuse.
There. I said it.
‘How vain it is to sit down to write when you have not stood up to live.’
One year ago, Airblue Flight 202 met it’s tragic end on the hills of Margalla, bringing the curtains down on the lives of it’s 152 unfortunate passengers.
It’s hard to believe that it’s been an year already. It feels like it was yesterday when I woke up to a message from my friend who informed me about the crash and the moments of horrible helplessness panic and doubt that followed; the incessant praying with everyone begging God to keep their loved ones safe and finally, the realization that … that wasn’t to happen.
It’s hard to not think about the families affected by the tragedy.
Death, it mocks us all. I think it’s easier for the dead than the people they leave behind. Especially victims of accidental deaths who leave behind them a void. Who leave behind them a series of irrationally guilty ‘what-ifs’ where you can’t help thinking about how, perhaps you could have saved that loved one. They leave behind a feeling of shock, where you have to realize every time you wake up that life isn’t the same. That life goes on but maybe, it doesn’t.
But let us not mourn the dead. Let us just rejoice in their life. The joy that they brought into the lives that they touched.
‘Death is not extinguishing the light; it is putting out the lamp because dawn has come. – Tagore
Gone but not forgotten.
I just learned the word ‘Anachronistic’ today and thought it sounded fascinating although I couldn’t use it in a sentence, no matter how hard I tried. So I just stuck it into the title, hoping it makes me sound incredibly awesome.
So… I need strings for my guitar and the only music store that was near my place appears to have relocated somewhere else. So the only shop now where I can get strings (that I know of) is at Tariq Road which is a long, stinky and sweaty bus ride away.
God bless the guy who made the first QinQi. Yes. I’m talking about those epic motorcyle/rickshaw contraption thingy that takes you from point A to point B in relative comfort (comfort here being defined as anything that doesn’t involve me being poked by someone’s manhood, something that happens quite often on a bus when I’m sitting and a horny homo is standing right besides me. Whether it’s deliberate or not, I leave that to your preference of assumption.) But yes. It’s a sexy sexy way of transporting one self from place to place AND it’s cheap too.
Not pictured here: Me making love to a QingQi
Bilawal Bhutto’s will represent Lyari in the next elections. I’m unable to think up of anything witty and/or substantial to follow up that statement. This post does an awesome job of it though.