Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Today, give a stranger one of your smiles. It might be the only sunshine he sees all day.
- Quoted in P.S. I Love You, compiled by H. Jackson Brown, Jr.
There's a sharp pain in my neck reaching up till my forehead travelling all through the center of the skull. That still seems to be alright. It hasn't reached my cheek-bones yet. I had a good dinner a while ago, of course sitting alone in the living with my laptop in front of me. It's always nice to be in continuous contact with at least one person and talk as if we have been talking continuously since nobody knows when. The day starts and the talk proceeds as if it had never ended. That's always a luxury. The ache seems to hurt my eyes now. I can have a pill but I guess I will sleep in sometime. I have class at 10:30 am.

Some days back I asked my father why wasn't sending me e-mails. He complained that it was I who stopped. I wrote to him the next day. He said he will reply. I reminded him thrice since then. It's been a week since I wrote. He hasn't replied. I am not going to ask him now. It has just become one of those thing I won't be talking again. It might seem naive of me talk to my father daily on phone and even expect him to write to me. They are two different media with different emotions. So much has been reduced to basics. So much has ceased to be exciting. My eyes are hurting me now. I need to sleep.

I need to wash the cup I had soda in a while ago. The ice in it hasn't melted yet. The paper towel I keep with me while having food is still there on the floor and needs to be trashed. I need to brush my teeth, turn the alarm on and go to sleep. All this seems so much and yet I keep typing. There is so much to be done after waking up. I can feel blood moving in my fists when I close them. It's something like waves turning on and off inside my fingers. My forehead's going to burst now. I wish I could stay up longer. Perhaps the best way to fulfill a desire is to shut it off. At least there won't be any artificial looking hope after that. My parents keep breaking the hope often that I keep building repeatedly.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Burning Up My Days

Pooh looked at his two paws. He knew that one of them was the right, and he knew that when you had decided which one of them was the right, then the other one was the left, but he never could remember how to begin.
- Chapter Seven, The House at Pooh Corner, A. A. Milne
A little while ago I was having my dinner and looking frequently at the prayer mat that was lying on the floor beside a table in my bedroom. My mother had given it to me saying it was smaller in size and would not take much space in my luggage. A cousin gave me another prayer mat here which is of regular size. I guess I prayed on that one only once. The smaller one always finds me thinking about my mother. I spoke to her a few hours back alhamdulillah.

I am in the living room now and my eyes fall frequently on the white bowl left by my room mate on the table. He fried something to eat with the daal I prepared. I thought of having something with the daal and rice too but we are out of pickles. The lest time I went to a desi store I found pickles there had have asafoetida or sounf in them. The former makes my mouth taste bad and the latter makes the pickles sweet. I didn't get what I wanted.

Long back when I was in sixth grade I wanted to own a personal computer. I was always after my parents to get me one. Somehow it looked as the most exciting thing in the world. I remember my mother telling me I will have to wait for it and she would buy me the best one in the market when the time came. I was gifted one six years later. It was the best one available in the market those days. I had the best machine I or anybody I knew had ever seen. Very soon I realized this thing came to me when it was appropriate - at the right time.

I never really wanted to ride a two-wheeler. Bikes never excited me. I liked cars and always wonder 'how much longer?'. I remember once my mother asking me if we should buy a car or get another level constructed on our house. I wanted a car. Later I realized a car was a luxury but a house was an investment and informed my mother. By the time I was done with my eighth grade we had a new house and we moved into it just for a change. I was in love with the one we were living in but my parents said the new house was much better and tenants would spoil it if we rented it out. It was getting difficult for four of us to go out together because my brother and I were growing up fast. A year and a half later we bought a car. It came at the right time.

Back in August 2008 when my father's friend told me how careful I will have to be when driving in Dallas while changing lanes, I wondered if I was really going to buy a car there. A year later I had a car on which I had myself put around 8,000 miles. The time needed it. Even the day before I got my car, it looked artificial to me. I had always wondered how fast a six-cylinder car would move. I saw v6 written at the back of my car after I bought it. All that was important for me was my father's friend's call, just before he was taking off for India that month, to ask me to by that car. I needed it. It was the right time.

I have had a good number of similar experiences and I have thanked Allah relentlessly for making me more blessed than so much I know and yet I ask for some things that I know will find their right times a little after from the present. That looks more than a dream. I might as well run away from it. But I came to think of it again, there is something less than that what I am asking for right now. I thought I know the constraints. I know so less. I know of Allah for sure. Perhaps, I am living what I had feared for long. I don't like staying in my apartment these days. I have started not liking few more things. I have built new hatred.

That late night after shouting at my mother that I was going to leave the house immediately my father made me sit on the bed, hugged me and asked me not to leave. He wiped tears from my cheeks and also the wetness caused by them under my eyes. I have that feeling of having him so close to me still left. The day I was leaving my mother hugged me. I knew a single tear in my eye would make her weep. Her voice was very heavy. My voice was like a week yet confident kid. I realize I am going to have that kind of tone in my voice forever for such times. That's how my voice has been most of the times. I will call my father just before sleeping. If I call him now then I can't call him just before sleeping.

My neck is aching real bad. I don't remember when it was last I slept without having to worry about waking up to do something. I lost weight. I call myself sick when Google comes to my mind when I think about my mother. I found a few things that Google can't search for me. I found the limits of my body. I have experienced what happens when I drive after not having sleep for more than 35 hours. I know how awesome it is when even a person who thinks I am from Mexico smiles at me - it's the smile. There is nothing like a baby waking her hand at me just because I looked at her for a few seconds trying to ask nothing. Some times I just feel like telling some people "I will be good... please". And I try to forget.

I think many people think I am a fool. I wish they say that to me on my face. But I don't want them to. I love them. Everything was going great. Then something happened. I don't know what. Somewhere along the road I stopped for a while and started wondering what was going on. Then I forgot why I was there. There were directions, signs and maps to help me. I stared at them. Trying to see what I was forgetting. Or perhaps trying too see if I can find another reason to smile again. It's so easy to smile. I am going to remember these days. Alhamdulillah.

Thursday, September 3, 2009

As It Was

They spoil every romance by trying to make it last forever.
- Oscar Wilde
My classes started on 24th. I am cool with all three professors. One of them is Indian and the other two are from the far east. I don't spend much time in the university these days; I leave after the class unless there is something to-the-point to be done. I prefer getting back to my apartment and completing my sleep. It has become an important product. It seems like it has been ages since I slept with no alarm to wake me up. It's a fast life now giving me no time to think if I am happy. One thing I know for sure despite several fears is I am satisfied alhamdulillah. This could have been bad. Logic doesn't always shows. There are repeated instances revealing supernatural control.

The joy of having somebody very close stills buffets me even when it would be a month since I visited my cousin in Austin. She took care of everything about me - served me food three times a day, the water she kept for me on the table always had crushed ice in it, she arranged my clothes I was leaving in the bedroom, she took care of the stuff I left in the washroom and I had to return to Dallas and start doing this for myself again. It would have still been wonderful for me just to have her around. She doing so much to make my time very luxurious is not I would ever expect from anybody. It's something else.

There is invariably nothing to blog at this time. I have nothing much to share or talk about or perhaps nothing viable to record. There is nothing to boost and no battle to fight. It's just a blog here that needed to be kept alive. It's just me here trying to focus on the presence of so much around me and how it matters. The circles are getting smaller. The people who matter and those who bother keep changing with a static few. It's just me there more than 14,000 kilometers from where I was born.