Oh Allah! They are Ruining My Country

Where there's a will, there's a weapon.

-Yuri Orlov, Lord of War 

They have made an Afghanistan of my country. I remember that day when I was returning after a semester exam and the news of a bomb blast in Mecca Masjid in the old city region of Hyderabad reached me. My first reaction was to refuse to believe in that. That seemed impossible. But that was the truth. Months later there were series of blasts across Hyderabad. There were blasts in Ajmer, Ahmedabad, Bangalore and the list keeps updating. It's more than easy to people in India - anybody can build a bomb, get a gun or cause an explosion of any size in any part of any city. The only thing that can control this is intelligence. I wonder what they really do. Of course it's Allah who knows everything.

Just a year back I remember telling my father how India is the best choice for multi-national companies to setup their offices because we are the safest country. It all changed. Life is loosing it value and numbers only help build statistics. Politicians battle for power, policemen keep fattening up their pockets and pot bellies, innocents die everyday and the country suffers. Every mall, theatre and building has metal detectors and security personell at the entrance checking the visitors. I never believed them to be of any help. Even a kid can sneak in a bomb or a gun. There is no way to check who carries what in trains and busses.

It seems pointless to talk about all this; it won't many any difference. Those involved don't understand. Understanding anything won't make a difference to those who suffer. They have made a joke out of it. The news channels sensationalize everything. They want to be the best channel. They want to make money. And what do they do - they blame my religion. I simply don't get the logic in calling Pakistani Terrorists as 'Pakistani Islamic Terrorists'. Why do they bring in my religion?

Oh, Divine Chocolate!

All I really need is love, but a little chocolate now and then doesn't hurt!

- Lucy Van Pelt, Peanuts 

This is my 471st post of this blog. It's three years now since I started writing. Though this blog was started much later than November 2005, there was a post on my other blog, Flowing Emotions, which, if I recollect correctly, was posted by me on November 14th, 2005. In a few months I had deleted that post but continued my then newly discovered obsession towards writing. When I started writing I had little imagination that one day I would be writing sitting in a country thousands of miles away from my home. It definitely feels something pretty different, but it's not in my humble means to explain it in words.

It's 3:14 am in the morning now with an empty bowl lying just beside me on a book. I had chocolate cookie ice cream a while ago listening to some music. I had spent a few hours in the evening studying for a test I have on Tuesday and the preparation continued until a couple of hours back. I only have a topic more to cover but that doesn't give me any confidence. No matter what level of effort I put here for tests, I don't achieve any good. It hurts, it frustrates and the only thing I tell myself is that I will give in a little more the next time. This is that next time now which I had thought about after the last test. InshAllah I will go past class averages this time. It's Allah's will. SubhanAllah.

It was 'cool' to see my father asking me "wassup?" in an e-mail he wrote to me yesterday. I replied to that mail but not to the question yet. I will do that later in the day today inshAllah. Though I am a kind of used to staying away from my parents, I will never get used to staying without them. I don't want to get used to such things. For years I have been considered extremely sensitive, sentimental, emotional and weak. I wonder how I could endure staying away from my parents. This time I surprise myself!

There are no measurable details of how much I am learning here. Those subjects I read back in my engineering make sense now. And each of the courses here teach me more than enough that I can straight away start working in the industry. The other day I cut fish, marinated it, fried it and mixed it with a vegetable curry to make a delicious dish out of it. I have learnt how to cook chicken is more than one way, cook mutton, chopped mutton, seviyon ka meetha, khatti daal, vegetable curries and even burgers. I can now prepare burgers better than what we get at McDonalds. Mustard sauce, mayonnaise, tomato ketchup and a hope to make all this taste well between the buns with either hash browns or some veg-patty make good burgers. Alhamdulillah.

I seem to have a crisis with my sleep here. back in India though my timings were all weired, they were in my control - I used to decide how many hours to sleep. Alhamdulillah. But now, though falling asleep seems to be a problem, waking up too is turning out to be a problem. The remperature in the nights is floating around an equivalent of -1 degree centigrade making sleep inside my silky blanket even more enjoyable. Alhamdulillah. The problem is, I am spending more than eight hours in this indulgence. InshAllah I will make myself better soon. Something else I enjoyed here a few days back - driving. I drove my cousin's car - I need a little more practice before I am as confident as I was on Hyderabad's roads. InshAllah.

Egoistic Superior Complex Attitude

It never occurred to me to call 911 or my physician. As foolish as it may appear, you are, in a sense, a prisoner of the pain, which was intolerable. You're thinking, what could I do to relieve myself of it. If it becomes intense enough, you're perfectly willing to accept cardiac arrest as a possible way of getting rid of the pain.

- Dr. Michael DeBakey heart surgery pioneer, on his own pain attack from a damaged aorta

I got done with my evening class 30 minutes back and here I am sitting in the lobby of Student Union feeling more lonely than ever. I just hope nobody I know spots me here and thinks of giving me any company. I want to stay alone. I called up my father a while ago but he didn't talk much for he was getting late to work. I spoke to my grandmother then. Two minutes of talk never makes any difference. Everybody is busy everywhere. I have a meeting to attend with my team members in 15 minutes and I have a document to read before I go.

I wish I could go back to my apartment right away, have my dinner and sleep. I don't have to cook today. The chicken I prepared yesterday is still left relieving me and my room mates of today's cooking. Most of my classmates here are busy registering for their courses. I remember the day we were registering for Fall '08 - everybody was worried. Alhamdulillah I never tried to move things fast and I got the courses I wanted to have. Even this time inshAllah things will go well when I go for registration tomorrow.

It's 8:50 pm now and dark outside. The other day I was surprised when all the clocks automatically went back an hour. Later I was talk something like this happens twice every year to readjust time and synchronize it with convenience of daylight. It was amusing but seemed logical. I wish my father could have spent more time talking to me when I called him. I wish he remembered I was living alone here and unlike him I have nobody around to sit and talk to. Five minutes left for the meeting - I have to prepare for it.