The Day the World Changed

A couple days ago, as I was walking down some random street near Times Square, I was reminded by my sister that I'd be in NYC during September 11th. Even though 9/11 has affected my life in ways that I cannot even begin to describe, the date itself hasn't had as significant an impact on me as others. Usually, when I wake up on 9/11, my first reaction is "GIVE ME TEA" and then "Crap I'm late for school", and as I'm heading to campus on the bus, I suddenly realize it's 9/11. Then I think about whatever's happened since, swear at le bush a couple of times for the havoc he's created in Afghanistan and Iraq and Pakistan, shake my fist at Bin Laden, and return to my music on my iPod.

Anyway. This year will be interesting. I was surprisingly emotional when I went to the site of 9/11 for the first time, so not sure what this year's reaction will be. Will keep ya'll posted.

Now. Back to my TomYum yummy soup.

Apologies...

For not having written in a while. I'm in the midst of moving myself and my possessions to NYC and of starting a completely new life. The past week and a bit has been spent saying goodbye (not alvida/goodbye...the other see-you-soon type) to my near and dear (in both spatial and emotional terms), packing my life into 1.5 suitcases, spending two hours on a tarmac waiting for remnants of Hurricane Bill to pass through the East Coast (then giving up and walking off a cancelled flight), arriving in the centre of the world at 830am and crashing almost in the middle of Times Square, finalizing an apartment, buying furniture and whatever else one needs for a home (from toilet paper to desk tops), shopping along 5th Avenue (not advisable unless you want to be stuck in a tourist trap or have enough money to shut down the boutiques for yourself - just go to the other Burberry or Abercrombie stores in town), and taking hundreds of pictures at the M&M store. Tomorrow is my first orientation! Things should settle down over the next few days, and I'll be back to talk (well write) about this city.

Also on the plate: wandering around, taking pictures.

ps: Rushdie's here...in the city that is...

Seriously??

"Dating the Ethnic Man: Strategies for Success – New!
Multicultural relationships are increasingly common despite the challenges involved. If you’re a woman considering a relationship with an ethnic man, this insightful course will enlighten you to the influences that religion, family obligations and peer pressure may have on your partner’s ability to fully commit to you. Through practical advice and case studies, you’ll learn how to address and embrace cultural differences, while enriching your experiences of life and each other. Questions for contemplation and an in-depth compatibility test provide additional insights into the ethnic man’s values, sexual matters and emotional conflicts."

Seriously!!?!?!! And this too at a newly-accredited university (I still call it a college - yes, I'm an education snob) in my home province. Ooh - I want to date a brown guy - let's examine some case studies. Idiots. The only case studies worth examining are your own past relationships. And how do you LEARN to embrace cultural differences? You either do or you don't - simple.

Also - what are an 'ethnic man's values'. All you men of colour, along with those men who don't have colour but are still considered 'ethnic' in North America (shout out to the Mexicans, Brazilians [yes - I know not all of you are 'white' - sorry, for lack of a better term], Russians etc) - stay away from people who take this course. Seriously...If they think you're worth it, they'll ask you the questions, instead of some random 'expert' on 'ethnic men'.

Sheesh

Of Guitars, Wrists and Freedom

I've never strung a guitar. Even though I've had one since I was 5, and two (1+1 of course) since I was 19. Neither have ever demanded new strings, so I've never bothered. The violin though - because I played it so often (but not enough for my violin teacher(s) to love me more than their other students) - needed changes every now and then. I feel like comparing this to a baby needing a diaper change - but that would be disrespectful to Gligz (my violin - I name things) and doesn't really fit as a comparison. I won't go into details about why it doesn't fit - you should be able to figure that out.

Anyway, so back to the guitar. The one that I acquired (it used to be my father's - I appropriated it once I discovered the beautifulness that is Asturias) when I was 19 was last strung before I was born - so around 25 years ago. It's a beautiful guitar with a very deep tone that reminds me of hazelnut chocolate spread (i.e. Nutella - the European type that's not as sweet as the stuff we get here). Unfortunately, or fortunately, one of the strings broke a couple days ago and, because I enjoy playing this particular guitar more than my other one and because dad's work is across the road from a guitar store, I asked dad to buy a set of strings.

Last night, I decided to restring the wooden beauty and figured that it would be as easy as stringing a violin. I was wrong. It was much more difficult and tedious. Anyway, it ended up taking me almost 2 hours to get all the strings off and the new ones on (mostly because I'm really picky about where the string is sitting on the peg and how it looks) and a lot of that time was spent in winding the pegs. Thinking that my wrist (which underwent surgery a couple years ago and hasn't actually fully recovered) would be fine, I didn't bother taping it up or being 'careful.' Now - I'm in dire pain, and my hand is swollen - but - the stringing turned out well. And because my wrist was due for a bout of pain (the last one was during exams in April), I don't really mind having to go through it. At least - my guitar looks pretty and shiny with its brand new, silver strings. I still need to tune it though - spent today drinking tea, getting my hair cut and realizing that I'm actually quoteable. Oh - and had a massive tete-a-tete (dammit - there aren't any diacritical marks) with BKscope about PhDs and whether or not to pursue a three-year PhD or a three-year joint MIA/MPA and MBA. Hmm. Questions...questions...questions.

Answers? None yet. Maybe within the next few months as I get settled into Said-land (Edward - not the past form of 'to say').

And to all the South Asians out there. Happy Independence Day(s). 'S' in brackets for those who celebrate both - like me.

A Real, Live City...

I'm no longer a student of the most beautiful university in the world, but - in fact - of one of the oldest on this side of the Atlantic. Want a hint? Think of Mr. Black-yet-White President, the Writer of India's Constitution, one of the Founders of The Country In Which Even Pennies Trust God and so on...

I'm moving in two weeks to a city - oh Lordy to a Real, Massive, Intense, People-Crammed and Cramming city.

Through the Looking Glass...

...albeit an 8-pointed star-shaped one

I wonder what they're thinking

Paimana Bideh - Bring me the Glass...

More wonderfulness from Coke Studio - this time from Zeb and Haniya. This one makes me want to wander around North-West Pakistan more than I wanted to a while ago...But alas! I have to go to grad school. North-West Pakistan will just have to wait for another year.




Lyrics + Translation: Awais Aftab

Part one, translated from Darri/Farsi:
Paimana bideh ki khumaar astam
(Bring me the glass so I may lose myself)
Man aashiq-e chashm-e mast-e-yarastam
(I am in love with my beloved’s intoxicating eyes)
Bideh, bideh, ki khumaar astam
(Bring (the glass), bring (the glass), so I may lose myself)

Part two, translated from Pushto:
Dilgeer garzama labela taana
(You have captured my heart and I wander aimlessly without you)
Khabar me waakhla, raasha jaanana
(My love come/return, and see the state I’m in)
Khabar me waakhla, raasha jaanana
(My love come/return, and see the state I’m in)
Tarso ba garzay te bela mana?
(How long will you wander without me?)