Friday, March 20, 2009

Meet

Never go to bed mad.  Stay up and fight. 
- Phyllis Diller, Phyllis Diller's Housekeeping Hints, 1966
It's seven months since I left India. The last post I published in India on this blog was the 459th and 39 posts later I write the 499th today alhamdulillah. Though I don't particularly bother with trivial numbers, some do please me. It's not the figure that matters, it's all about what I have recorder, what I have shared, how I have responded or even reacted and how I grew. On March 31th it will be three years since I created this blog. It's not a feat, not any form of achievement that I should be proud of; it's just a number that pleases me - it also shows how alhamdulillah everybody is different; how I am different; how we all are unique - alhamdulillah.

It's 5:15 am now. I had a heavy dinner but realizing there were chicken franks in the freezer made me hungry so, I had one a few minutes back. I woke up very late in the afternoon and around 6:30 pm I asked my friend "where's the party tonight?". He has a night shift today so I knew whatever I plan with my other friends he wouldn't be there. Around 9 pm I had to decide what to do for the night, I started cooking, decided against watching the movie we were initially planning, had dinner at 10:30 pm and left for a restaurant to have hookah.

I had been thinking about having hookah for a long time - it was back in summer of 2008 when I had had it in India. My room-mate friends too were keen and we took along. After returning home around 1:25 am it struck to me that a trip to Wal-mart was due. My friend discussed with me how incredible it is to go out for shopping at 2:30 am in the morning and how his friends in Tanzania would be amused if he told them about it. Having a Wal-mart nearby is so convenient; not to forget the Tom Thumb and Super Target. Having a mosque nearby could have been awesome.

Yesterday early morning too the same person sent me a text saying "hey". At the end of a few  conversations I reminded her something: "I told you I don't make friends this way" and there was nothing from her side after that. I thought she had finally found me rude enough and wouldn't get to me again. Around 1:45 pm I received a text from her "wow". I didn't reply. She didn't try to reach me till now and I hope she doesn't. I don't know who she is, I don't want to know who she is and I don't want to be more rude. If somebody knows me, I would be glad to talk and be the best of the person I could possibly be; but I don't like anything like this. Though I never tried hard to make friends anytime, I have the best of people as my friends and the count is very large Alhamdulillah - I value them all; and I keep making good friends continually.

My contact with my friends in India has come to an all time low. I remember buying a TV video game in 8th standard which I didn't like and cried because I had wasted so much money given to me as a gift from my mother. Even since then whenever I spent any significant amount of money I always gave second thoughts and serious evaluations. I can't forget that bitter night I cried telling my parents how I was not satisfied spending those two thousand Rupees on that console. Even today I agree I shouldn't have bought that. But if I had not, I would have made several wrong decisions in the rest of my time till today and in the coming days too. I had learnt something that night - the hard way. I was too young then. Having some people talking to us daily could be so mesmerizing. I talk to my parents daily alhamdulillah. Some people are still missing.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

White Light

Grown-ups love figures.  When you tell them that you have made a new friend, they never ask you any questions about essential matters.  They never say to you, "What does his voice sound like?  What games does he love best?  Does he collect butterflies?" Instead, they demand:  "How old is he?  How many brothers has he?  How much does he weigh?  How much money does his father make?"  Only from these figures do they think they have learned anything about him.  
- Antoine de Saint-ExupĂ©ry, The Little Prince, 1943, translated from French
A few weeks back one of my room-mate friend dropped my glass cup by mistake and it broke. It was the only one left out of the six we had in my home back in India - it was more than just a cup for me. I thought it would hurt when it broke. But alhamdulillah this friend meant more to me than that cup. Ever since he joined me as my room-mate I have started enjoying my life. He became a close friend of mine, somebody I can talk a lot to and a person I can trust. I never knew I was going to meet somebody like him. I meet many people alhamdulillah who make me feel that.

I got a text message a while ago asking "text me back". I was convinced it was somebody who was mistaking me for somebody else but I asked back if I know who it was trying to talk to me. The person gave a girl's name and responded as if I know who she is. She said she found my number on MySpace for which I replied "I don't use it". I just didn't want to hurt her by being rude telling her she was wasting my time. But I did exactly that in the end.

I thought I could be polite by at least proving it to her that I am not who she was thinking me to be and so, I said she can give me her e-mail ID so that I could let her know me on Facebook. She said she doesn't use Facebook for which I said I don't use MySpace and that she was wasting my time and her time too. As a courtesy I said "goodnight". And she replied "I thought I saw a cute boy that would talk to me...". I responded "sorry about that! But I don't make friends this way".

I finally slept for more than five hours yesterday - it went upto 7 I guess but it was very disturbed. In the morning I wanted to meet my aunt and cousins who were visiting Dallas but i couldn't. It didn't make me happy. It was a tiring day with many things to see - I am not sure if what I am learning is something I am really supposed to learn. But I am satisfied alhamdulillah. I am better than many, many people here and else where.

Among the best of people I met here is my father's friend. Alongside my aunt from Houston, a cousin and an uncle here, he is the one who caused a lot of difference to my living. Everytime I talk to him, everytime I see him and hear from him I know I am safe here alhamdulillah. I remember the first time I met him - he was just like many of my father's friends who are very sweet, I came to know he was my father's brothers' friend too, I was told he lives in Arlington and the best thing I remembered is he invited me to visit him. Later I came to know he lives in Dallas and I used to wonder if I would be able to meet him because I was going to come stay in Richardson. He doesn't live in Dallas; I don't live in Richardson; I live in Dallas; my university is in Richardson; he doesn't live in Arlington either; he lives in Bedford.

Saturday, March 14, 2009

Too Rich Or Too Poor

I have died so little today, friend, forgive me. 
- Thomas Lux 
I badly want to write though little do I know what to; that's insignificant. I spent almost the whole day in the group-study room of the library. Thrice I stood at the glass wall overlooking a construction site wondering what's going wrong. Wondering doesn't help much; thinking might but actions always do. Some places seem as if they have been a part of my life for a long, some people give that impression too and some just seem to say "you are weird, too sticky; better stay away". Alhamdulillah places don't speak. Logic and the need for love don't go well together.

I had to submit a 'take-home' midterm test on Friday before 7 pm. I had 26 hours of time to answer 5 questions. I remember studying the DES and the Triple - DES algorithm back in engineering; one of the questions expected me to write an algorithm to attack a variant of DES called MV DESX and recover the keys. The approach I adopted was 'meet-in-the-middle attack'. I am not sure what the professor expects but I was glad I could come up with the technique. I slept only 2 hours the other night, 3 hours on Friday evening and it's 6:06 am now. I need to retire at the earliest.

All of the 24 hours in a day seem to be different. It's different when I talk to my room mates, it's something when I talk to parents, it's something else when I talk to friends and the rest of the time is disturbing. I need to be doing something that either keeps my mind busy not letting it think a few things or just something that reduces the sense of feeling. I don't miss home much now, I talk to my parents daily alhamdulillah, I am used to the new place, I like the people here, I have a sense of belonging, I have many things I can do and enjoy; I just can't think of a single person I can call up whenever I feel the excruciating need to talk, share and show love to; peace is absent.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

A Notebook Worth 22 Years

Nobody has ever measured, even poets, how much a heart can hold.  
- Zelda Fitzgerald   
I always hated going to school back in India. I remember rejoicing even very small changes in routine whenever they happened - not going to home after school some times and instead to my father's shop which he used to run many years back, to some relative's house or for shopping. I would wait all through the week, counting days, for Saturday to come so that I could go to my grandparent's house. It was an almost same routine for 12 long years. There were financial constraints, things I had to enjoy only by looking at them and dream. I am happy those days are over. I remember something very important my mother wanted me to learn: "never spread your legs beyond the limits of your blanket".

Once in a blue-moon my father used to pick me up from school. I waited for such days. The days seemed too long. After a painful wait, I used to run after the class to the parking lot searching for my father. I always knew where he was going to park his scooter. And from distance I would see him and forget the whole world. I used to try controlling my lips but they smiled uncaring the moment I saw him. He used to have his dark glasses on and I could smell the sweet scent of his aftershave 'Old Spice' the moment I went close to him. He would then take me to his shop and back home late in the evening. The same lousy, heartbreaking and tiresome routine would continue from the following day.

The hope of a better future kept motivating me. I somehow knew everything I wanted was going to come someday. I still can't believe how important every single Rupee was to me just a decade back. Using Dollars seemed strange initially; I was converting them into Rupees before buying even bananas. It's different now alhamdulillah. I, now have finally come to understand what's expensive and what's worth the stuff I am buying. Everywhere we go, wisdom is in adjusting to things we cannot change and changing things that must be changed. I am learning where to cut and where to set it loose. Loving includes knowing when to hold on and when to let it go.

Monday I slept at 7 am and got out of bed at 5 pm though had an alarm on my phone for 2 pm initially which kept getting added by an hour twice. Tuesday I slept at almost 8 am and woke up at 4 pm. I had to attend a class at 5:30 pm. There are days I go with less than five hours of sleep. Then there are days I take 10 to 12 hours for the indulgence. The only times I am bothered is when I am not able to do what I am supposed to do and what I want to do. I am not the only one here living this way. I at least have a few days I sleep only for five hours. I know many who indulge even more all through the week. It's 5:05 am right now and two of my room mates are awake.

I don't like the English I am using while writing blog-posts these days. Though I have no problem in expressing what exactly I intend to, it's way to simple. Though I have used some vocabulary in the past even I don't understand now, I believe having a good vocabulary means being able to make the other person understand precisely what you intend to let her know. But even then, I am being too simple and I don't like it. But I guess it shouldn't matter if I remember the premise of my blog. I love the school I am going to now.

Monday, March 9, 2009

Very False Ceiling

Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose. 
-  The Wonder Years
There were two different days in succession. I realized there are some mistakes we just can't do anything about until we commit them. I draw a horizontal line in the middle when I write '7' but people here don't. It's a thing I chose and Americans didn't. I appreciate and respect that. I was just not told about it by anybody. That was one of the two things that went wrong. I am going to talk to my father's friend tomorrow. I know it's only he after Allah who can make me feel better about it. It doesn't make much difference to anybody but me. I can't bear to see myself making mistakes.

There are so many different kinds of people in this world. Back in India we had this concept of "Unity In Diversity". America is more diverse, there are more kind of different people here, there are people not just from different countries but also different races and there are so many ideals to follow. I think here we can say something like "Diversity and Federal Law". There are several worlds out here living their own lives not interfering with others yet remain peaceful. I am among few new who are mixing up a little. Many of my Indian acquaintances living in the University campus hardly interact with people from other countries. They isolate themselves thinking it's important for their safety.

Some weeks back I went into a debate with an old friend over an article I posted on Facebook. It was getting dirty. I referred it to a cousin and she said it's better we don't go beyond a point and I left it. This friend sent me an e-mail a few days later and said we can still talk on that on an intellectual level. I was glad; I thought I could be more subjective over e-mails. I replied in the softest tone possible. I was expecting a reply in a similar tone. I just didn't feel like reading it after the first paragraph. I won't reply to it; I am not even going to read it. My cousin was right - in matters of religion, people don't respond well when you talk logically.

Sunday, March 8, 2009

Somebody Else's Dream

"Pooh," said Rabbit kindly, "you haven't any brain." 
"I know," said Pooh humbly.” 
- Winnie the Pooh, A. A. Milne
Some times it's just a greeting with a smile that can change the rest of the day. Obviously smiles are said to spread happiness and all that that comes attached with smiles is proclaimed in well-known proverbs and sayings, but some smiles are different - they carry themselves to the future, show new doors and simply mesmerise. If I get to read today's post, say, a decade from now, I am sure just the first two lines are enough to remind me of how I enjoyed a few minutes of my life today and how the rest of my time was blessed. I hope and pray to Allah that it's a start of something that would last forever.

An hour was added to all clocks today. It didn't surprise me like how it happened last November. I am yet to correct my wrist watches. I just lost an hour which means I get an hour less to sleep. I have lots of sleep in my eyes but I am simply in love with reality that I don't want to go to bed. But I know once I am there it's going to get tough to wake up again. Alhamdulillah I don't find anything I need to complain about to Allah. I just pray to Allah that I remain blessed the way I have been since I was born. Though there have been some grave losses, some irreparable damages done and a thing I shouldn't have ever said, there is nothing I would like to change in my past. Allah created reality and I love it. SubhanAllah.

I have stopped keeping track of so many things. Priorities clearly stand out of everything I want to do and have been dreaming of doing. Happiness is definitely made in those very small instances of time. It's better to loose the will and desire to do a few things than to do them and repent later. There are so many things in my life alhamdulillah that make me say "yes, a thing of beauty is a joy forever". Things have been changing fast and I have been appreciating every bit of it. I come to a point now from where I really have no idea what's going to come next. I like this expanse of time. But I know it will change again. I am after bigger things. Smiles make a lot of difference to me. Alhamdulillah.

Saturday, March 7, 2009

Saturday's

It's so curious:  one can resist tears and 'behave' very well in the hardest hours of grief.  But then someone makes you a friendly sign behind a window, or one notices that a flower that was in bud only yesterday has suddenly blossomed, or a letter slips from a drawer... and everything collapses.
- Colette
A tree fell on my room mate's car Friday morning. Loud continuous knocks on the door woke me up at 10:15 am. It was some maintenance guy who asked me if the blue car standing outside hidden by the tree was mine. As a general understanding that bad things don't usually happen to us - though of course Allah decides - I told him it wasn't mine. But still I gave a casual look from the balcony. I ran back inside and woke my friend up. We both ran out to check out. His insurance company said his car is covered only for liability and the apartment's insurance company said they don't cover damages due to acts of nature. Though alhamdulillah the damage was very less when it could have been severe, it's something that left a bad memory. We decided we would park our cars away from trees; always inshAllah.

Thursday after visiting the career expo this same friend asked me if I was in a mood to play pool. I am always in mood for that. We played table tennis for almost an hour. It doesn't happen always that we all four room mates meet at one place at one time. I enjoy it every time I get a chance to spend time with them. A couple of hours back we were watching comedy scenes from some Hindi movie and enjoying them. Our new room mate from Tanzania keep us entertained. I am glad I am not like other people here living in their cocoons, seeing the same places everyday and doing the same things every night. Alhamdulillah it's so wonderful. I am in love with everything Allah has blessed me with.

For those who look at their life the way Allah wants them to, there are always many things to enjoy and cherish right at the place they are in. No matter how far we live from out parents, no matter how much we miss people, there is always something to enjoy today which won't be there tomorrow. I remember talking to my parents about this once - if we want to have something, if Allah has made it Halaal for us and if we can afford it, it becomes mandatory for us to obtain it. When Allah blesses us with something, He wants us to use it. My heart just keeps overflowing with nobody to take it.