The Death of Another Bhutto...

Having written often about Pakistani politics, I feel compelled to write about the assassination of ex-Prime Minister Benazir Bhutto. Rest assured that I will neither provide a eulogy for the murdered Bhutto, nor an account praising her assassins. Neither will I lament the state of Pakistan’s political system, or the increase of Islamic terrorism in the country.

Benazir Bhutto, for me, was not the pro-democracy alternative to Musharraf that the USA felt she was. Rather, she was a reminder of the corrupt and hypocritical ‘democratic’ regimes of the 1990s. It is surprising to me that, upon her return to Pakistan, the West – at least, her political supporters in the West – completely overlooked her actions during her two tenures as Prime Minister. Having said that, I must mention the fact that she was quite courageous to return to Pakistan and to campaign vociferously for change in the country. Benazir - however much I disliked her political conduct - was a fascinating and bold woman.

What worries me now, as someone who has written papers in support of Musharraf for quite some time, is the impact on his legitimacy and status. With elections scheduled for January 8th, this assassination has put the former Army Chief and current President in a precarious situation. Any instability in the country, as a result of Bhutto’s assassination, is bound to be blamed on the inability of the Musharraf government to control the country. Having imposed Emergency rule once, and having received much criticism for it, Musharraf cannot afford to reinstate such measures to ensure calm; and yet, if peace does not prevail around the country – and in particular areas such as Rawalpindi, Karachi and Lahore – Musharraf will be criticised.

Furthermore, Nawaz Sharif – another former Prime Minister who has returned from exile – has decided to boycott the 8 January elections. Although this had been his initial reaction to the elections when they were announced, he was persuaded by Bhutto to participate. I was surprised that he did so – given that his faction of the Muslim League was slated to win the most seats in recent polls. Also, with the PPP divided (even though they will be bolstered by Bhutto’s ‘martyrdom) and Musharraf’s Muslim League under criticism, Sharif and his Islamist allies would have probably gained much support during these elections.

So what will happen on 8 January? Well – I guess the first question that needs to be asked is, will the elections occur on that date or will they be postponed? I don’t think Musharraf can afford to postpone these elections; but if he doesn’t and Sharif sticks to his boycott, then the elections will be a complete farce, and whoever wins – whether it is Musharraf’s Muslim League or the various Islamist parties under the flag of the Muttahida Majlis-e-Amal – will not enjoy proper legitimacy. I guess we’ll have to wait and see what happens in the next few days.

More updates on Pakistan once they come (into my head and in the papers) – for now, off to bed.

Dammit - I Forgot My Anniversary

my Selfistan anniversary that is...I just remembered that I started RFS last November...

What an Idiot...


Happy Anniversary to RFS and the Selfistani (i.e. Me) and to all the readers of RFS -whoever and wherever you are...



That's it for now...ciao, adios, au revoir...and remember...to be born again, first you must die...

Glisten

sitting here broken

blinking through the haze

wondering what happened

why it's all this way

all we did was laugh and sing

running in the sunshine

picking pretty flowers

making our bouquets

enveloped in your warmth i felt

invincible and strong

now its cold and dark in here

why is it you're gone

they said we were good you know

we had that certain vibe

but everything that glistens is not gold

and we did not survive

i miss you so, you know i do

and i know you miss me too

i'm here for you, forever boy

i love you, yes i do

hakka noodles

Oh So Tired....

I have this fear - that I'll sleep through my exam. Seriously, I set 4 alarms and am so worried that I barely get any sleep throughout the night. I think it has to do with the fact that I almost slept through one during High School, but I'm not sure. Now that no-one's at home when I wake up if I have an afternoon exam (I wake up late because I study until late - I'm an owl for those of you who haven't caught on/read earlier posts), the fear's worse.

So I went to 'bed' at around 1.30am last nite - I had to be out of the house by 10am - and didn't get to 'sleep' until 3am. Then I finally dozed-off and although I'd set my alarm for 7am, was up at 6am.

So - After the exam I was exhausted, obviously - and decided to come straight home. And I got onto the wrong bus...sad...

k..end of story - back to paper

lame story? ya..but it's exam time - so that's what u get.

Ahh It's That Time of Year Again

Call me pessimistic, unhappy or even a grinch for that matter - but i hate christmas carols - i hate them with a vengeance.

They're good on Christmas eve or Christmas day if you like singing songs about sleighs and snowflakes, but come on, everywhere and everyday is a bit much.

And Christmas has turned into a completely materialistic festival - like Valentine's day, or Hallowe'en etc etc...it's all about getting the biggest and the most presents...


Bah humbug....


back to my paper and studying for exams...

Pieces

Two things you can do:

leave the broken pieces on the ground

or

try to pick them up and put them back together

first one is harder to do in the short term - but perhaps the best in the long run...

dammit

spices and thumbs

in response to unwinding's comment on the last post...





so i was having eggs this morning - sunnyside up



and i dont know how many other people eat their eggs in this way..but i like those chili pepper flakes on mine - an uncle of mine (well he's actually a friend of my dad's...but I still call him uncle)...anyways, so this uncle of mine once had his macho ya gombe with chili flakes, and i thought it was weird

so one day, being the chili lover that i am, i decided to try it - and it was really good!

back to the topic at hand though

so i was having my eggs and decided i wanted chilies. now - if you remember, i'd cut my thumb kinda badly - and idiot me had taken off the bandaid because it was getting annoying.

and i picked up the chili flakes with my thumb and index finger....and...ouch..yes....

_______________________
November 28th


i have a tendency to do idiotic things with chilies. I hadnt eaten all day, so when i got home, i decided that i wanted to get a sandwich from Subway - i wasn't in the mood to eat home-food. so i went and got my usual veggie sandwich. and obviously i made the guy put both types of chilies in it.

and then - i came home, washed the bus-grime off my hands, and started to happily eat my sandwich and i gave some to my sister as well. she didnt want the chilies in her's so i took them out for her.

and then - having realized that my contacts needed to be thrown out, and having already washed my hands before eating, i decided to take out my contacts without washing my hands.

jalapenos in your eyes is definitely not fun....

The Importance of Thumbs

Realization of the day: thumbs are actually quite important - and you only realize their importance after you lose the use of one


so i have this mug - in which i drink my tea. it's my favourite mug - has elephants all along the edge. i love elephants.

so one day, my mug's handle chipped - and because it was the handle and not the mouth or anything else, i decided to keep on using the mug. and it's been completely fine.

i had my tea yesterday - so i washed my mug. and then i was drying it - and i cut my thumb (quite deep actually) with the chipped part. so now i can't use my right thumb...

which is really annoying - it's hard to hold a spoon, to use a knife, to do up buttons, heck to even write.

ahhh thumbs...

Disgraced Death

another spark of brilliance from Mirza-sahib

hue mar ke hum jo rusvaa, hue kyon na Garq-e-dariya

na kabhi janaazah uThtaa, na kahin mazaar hota

When I died, I became disgraced

So why was I not drowned in the ocean?

Had this happened

my funeral bier would not have been lifted

nor would my mausoleum have been erected

Sanskrit Shahada

Mahmud of Ghazni - one of the many Muslim kings who carried-out incursions in South Asia, once struck a coin (dirham) at Lahore that had a Sanskrit version of the Shahada. Fascinating eh?

here's the Sanskrit (colloquial Sanskrit according to Sheldon Pollock) version:

अव्यक्तं एक मुहम्मद अवतार नृपति महमूद

The Unmanifest is one; Muhammad is incarnation; Mahmud is King

Realization of the Day

It's weird. I've never officially had a motto in my life. I had to have one in grade five cuz my teacher made us have one - and i think it was 'the world would be incomplete without math' - yes I was a nerd (still am according to some) and a math nerd to top it off (which i no longer am - more of a politics nerd as some would say). Anyways.

So I came to the realization today that I actually follow this one sher by Allama Iqbal more closely than anything else. And I don't follow it for the sake of following it; it's just something I've done regularly and religiously for the past few years - especially since I got that letter (which I still haven't opened) in grade 12. What that letter is - you'll just have to ask me.

Anyway, so it's a verse that neatly sums up what my life is like - what I believe in - how I lead my life (I think).

khudi ko kar buland itna ke har taqdeer se pehle

khuda bande se khud pooche, bataa teri razaa kya hai?

make urself so strong that before writing your fate

god him/herself asks you what your decision is

Cuter Than A Cartoon

I was wandering around campus the other day - putting up posters for our event and taking random pictures (cuz I want to travel the world and take pictures one day). And I saw the cutest mouse ever. It was eating an orange jelly bean. So I had to take a picture.

Here it is

I'm Feeling Lucky...

Well..I'm actually not feeling lucky...but the reason it's the title of this post is because it refers to Google's I'm Feeling Lucky search function...

So because of the wonderfullness that is Sitemeter, I'm able to figure out how people are getting to Selfistan - yes all - i know where you're from, and how you're coming to this land - think of it as the information you give to the customs official when you travel - same deal...

what amused me the most - and seriously i've told all the people i know who read selfistan about it....at least i think i have...

is that if you type Dysfunctia

and press the i'm feeling lucky button on google


you'll come to selfistan....


Dysfunctia + I'm Feeling Lucky = Selfistan


nice equation eh? and a bit ironic, yet true...

N

Blasphemy?

This particular sher has often been seen as blasphemous. I love it - not the fact that it's blasphemous (although, to tell you the truth - blasphemy is quite exciting - it challenges the opinions of some), but the entire imagery of the verse. I wish Mirza saab were still alive. Then I'd sit at his feet, pour him some sharaab every so often, and watch him tie knots in cloth. And buy him mangoes.

Imaan mujhe roke hai, jo kheenche hai kufr
Ka'aba mere peeche hai, kaleesa mere aage
- From Baazeecha-e-atfal


That which restrains me is faith - what pulls me is blasphemy
The Ka'aba is behind me, and the Church stands before me

On Second Thought

compellation
n. calling upon by name; manner in which person is addressed. compellative, a.; n. name by which person is addressed.


oops...

Compellation

I know it isn't a word so don't bother telling me. I feel compelled to write something here since I haven't in a while. But honestly, I don't feel like writing - and I don't even know what to write - hence the rambling and babbling with no purpose.

K I guess I'll stop before you start throwing shoes or rotten tomatoes (tomAHtoes..not tomeytoes) at the screen (although - they won't really affect me, but will damage/dirty your laptop/computer screen..


bubyeeeeee

Hmmmmm....

Michael Ignatieff was at my Uni on thursday...while he was speaking, something went 'ping' in my head and i thought 'oh this would be a great post on Selfistan'

now the ping has gone 'blah' and i can't remember the thing i wanted to sing when my head went ping


i'll put it up once i remember...

might have been responsibility to protect...or the Liberal party....or the Invasion of Iraq...or the possibility of an election...or even how nice the multipurpose room at the L is and how excited I am to 'work' there..as an RA...lol


ahh...still waiting for Ping2...

Testing 1...2...3

Sometimes I wonder whether all I am in the grand scheme of things is a microphone - something through which someone is trying to amplify their version of things - something that is only used for the purposes of another - something that can be turned on and off at will - something that is only effective when there is someone speaking, singing, shouting etc into it and when it is connected to something that can actually remit the emittance to everybody else.


Definitely wisdom or lunacy...

Nazm

I could always write this in devnagari, but I have a prof who would seriously freak at the thought that I would write an Urdu poem in Hindi/Sanskrit script. So, I'm going to just write it in Roman. That way, more people can read it as well. It's in no specific metre - as you will see, nor does it totally follow the ghazal rules of radeef and kafiya. Sincere apologies to the purists, and if you see mistakes in my grammar, let me know please - I'm still learning the language...

taarein aaj sab chhup gayein hain

chaand ko rotey kyun dekhey?

zameen par bhi ashq kinaarey banaatey hain

chamaktey kinaarey, chehre mein jo doob jaatey hain

aaftaab aaj raat nahin aayega, kal bhi nahin

woh chaand ko rotey hue kyun dekhey?

hain dost, chaand-o-aaftaab, lekin itne bhi nahin

tum aaogey is chaand ko dekhney, woh nahin ma'alum

koi apne hi amaanat ko doobtey kyun dekhey?

is jahannum mein qaid saari umr rahengey

jab tak sooraj na jaaga, shab mein rahengey

sotey rahiyo mere aaftaab kirnon ko chhupaakar

apne hi ghar ko jaltey kyun dekhey?

The Sad, the Bad, and the Horrific

Congratulations to me for writing a post before 10pm. Why? I've got a meeting in 22 minutes and I have time to spare. And dumdidum I brought my laptop to campus today - which means, facebook, msn and selfistan.



I was on the bus today - as usual, it was raining. How sad.



And I saw a person - homeless (very sad) who was holding a guitar (very good), without a case (very bad) in the rain (oh the horror)



I felt bad for them: the homeless person and the misused guitar.



But, unfortunately, sanskrit was calling and I couldn't help either


How would i have helped them Arriba asks?



I would have....hmmm...hmmm...hmmm



actually...



no idea...





thus concludes another random post on Selfistan


(ps: this was actually written thursday at 6:08pm)

Ratrau part 2

I wonder how many of my posts I've written after 10pm. I have a feeling that most of them will have been written then...

hmm...


and that concludes another random post on selfistan

Ratrau - At Night

Once again, I am at my laptop in the early hours of the morning. I haven't been in school for 3 weeks and I'm already figuring out how to get through my second all-nighter without crashing onto the table. So far, tea, toast and banana bread have seemed to work. As well, it's pretty cold in my house, so that's another reason I haven't fallen asleep. But with my scarf and two blankets, no idea how much longer that's going to last.

I love these times of the night. It's uncommonly quiet both in my house and out on the street. The road outside, constantly buzzing during the day, is now silent. The other members of my household are also asleep. It seems, at this time of the night, that I'm the only person in this world, well, in this neighbourhood. And given my solitary nature and love of quiet corners (which doesn't necessarily mean I can't be gregarious), I adore this time of night. Perhaps that's why I keep on doing all my work during it.

Actually, that's probably wrong. As much as I love the night, all I want right now is some sleep and rest. But, I guess that'll have to wait.

Qateel Shifai

I love this line

hayaat bechde thode se pyaar ke badle

sell life for some love

Qateel Shifai: wah wah

Dumdidum

Yes, I dont have the brain capacity and strength to think of a better title

dont you hate it - well at least i do - when you've got so much work to get through and you try doing it but you're so distracted by other - at times more important - things that you can't do anything?

sigh..i need to sort out my life...otherwise i'm going to sink like a boulder

off to bed - finally

completely exhausted and it's only the second week of school...sigh

i guess this is what Mr. L was warning me against in June

.

what's the point of anything?
what's the point of poetry and music if it just makes you feel worse?
what's the point of trying to make something better if you know it won't work?
what's the point of trying to do that which you cannot do?
what's the point of caring so much that you think you're going to burst apart?
what's the point of



it's because i care so bloody much
it's because i feel obligated to do it
it's because all i want in the world is __________

it's because i'm afraid that i'll lose everything i have if i don't


and that freaks me out

Tere Sawalon Ke

Tere Sawalon Ke - Manorama: 6 Feet Under
Singers: Roop Kumar Rathod & Mahalaxmi Iyer

Tere sawalon ke woh jawab jo main de na de na sakoon (4)
Pighale se armaan hain do pal ke mehmaan hain
Aankhon ke aalon mein chaahat ki lo jalne do

Tere sawalon ke woh jawab jo mein de na de na sakoon (2)

O…dererena aan rererena rerena dererena rerena

Keh rahi hai jo nazar tujhe hai khabar ke nahin
Keh rahi hai teri nazar tu bekhabar to nahin
La la la la
Keh rahi hai jo nazar tujhe hai khabar ke nahin
Keh rahi hai teri nazar tu bekhabar to nahin

Tere bina zindagi hai adhoori tere bina kya hai jeena

Pighale se armaan hain do pal ke mehmaan hain
Aankhon ke aalon mein chaahat ki lau jalne do

Tum kaho to main rok loon jo tum kaho to nahin
Seene mein hai kaisi khalish teri kashish to nahin
Lalaloo lalala
O tum kaho to main rok loon jo tum kaho to nahin
Seene mein hai kaisi khalish teri kashish to nahin

Tere bina zindagi hai adhoori tere bina kya hai jeena

Pighale se armaan hain do pal ke mehmaan hain
Aankhon ke aalon mein chaahat ki lau jalne do

Tere sawalon ke woh jawaab jo main de na de na sakoon (2)
Tere bina zindagi hai adhoori tere bina kya hai jeena (2)
Jeena. Jeena.

Back to Work

Although yesterday was the first day of classes, I went to my first class today. Yes - I skipped the first day of classes - but it was for a good cause - the first-year orientation. It was, by far, better than my first-year orientation. I was completely lost that day, hated my group leader, was bored, wanted to go home, and constantly wondered why I'd decided to go to this particular university. First year, like that orientation, was horrible. I made a couple of good friends (thankfully), but I went to school and then came home. I'd hang out with people from high school - and that was it.


Second year, was much better, but I think I became who I am right now during my third year. I got more involved and I started doing better in school - much better. Well, my average during my second year is my highest yet, but the third-year one was just a couple of percent lower - but still in the same letter grade. During last year, I started falling in love with my university - with the beautiful campus, with the work that I was doing, with my friends (you know what I mean), and with the squirrels of course.

I took courses over the summer, so it's not like I haven't been on campus for the past 4 months. But yesterday, I still felt like I was a fish that had been put back into water after having been taken out. There's something special about being with your friends, running into people you haven't seen in months, sitting outside in the sun, and feeling like you belong.

I'm definitely looking forward to this year - to the social stuff of course (which will be so much better now that I'm not taking a full course load), to the academic stuff and to the extra-curric stuff. Now, back to my Sanskrit translations

Naqsh Fariyaadi

I'm quite surprised that I didn't start this section earlier. Being the Mirza Ghalib lover that I am, I should have thought of this a long time ago. Anyway, thus starts a humble offering to the best Urdu poet that ever lived - Mirza Asadullah Khan Ghalib. I'll present various shers in Urdu and will give a translation of it as well. Note that Urdu poetry - especially that by Mirza Ghalib - is much better in the original Urdu. Translations in English always lose the flavour and the brilliance of the Urdu original. Here goes...

This is one of my favourites for its sheer brilliance in imagery

Hotaa hai nihaaN gard mein sehraa mere hote,
Ghistaa hai jabeeN Khaak peh daryaa mere aage.
- from Baazeecha-e-atfaal (-aa mere aage)


The desert conceals itself in dust when I am before it,
The ocean rubs its forehead on the sand when I am before it.


That's it for now...(you should know the rest)

Censorship - part 2

Not my words....

You know it ain't easy

For these thoughts here to leave me

There's no words to describe it

In French or in English

Well, diamonds they fade

And flowers they bloom

And I'm telling you

These feelings won't go away

They've been knockin' me sideways

They've been knockin' me out lately

Whenever you come around me

These feelings won't go away

They've been knockin' me sideways

I keep thinking in a moment that

Time will take them away

But these feelings won't go away.

Neither are these

I start to feel like I can’t maintain the facade any longer, that I may just start to show through. And I wish I knew what was wrong. Maybe something about how stupid my whole life is. I don’t know. Why does the rest of the world put up with the hypocrisy, the need to put a happy face on sorrow, the need to keep on keeping on?... I don’t know the answer, I know only that I can’t. I don't want any more vicissitudes, I don't want any more of this try, try again stuff. I just want out. I’ve had it. I am so tired. I am twenty and I am already exhausted.

Bbbbzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz....

So I had a bumblebee - a very cute one in fact - sit on my hand as I was waiting for my bus one fine sunny morn. And I realized, how wrong I had been about the black and yellow buzzer. It sat on my hand quietly, and then flew off after realizing that I was not a flower - perhaps it had been attracted by my hand cream.

Here goes...an Ode to the Bumblebee (apologies for the cheesy-ness of the verse)

Oh humble Bumblebee

Most misunderstood and misconstrued

Pollinator of flowers

Tormentor of lil kids

Sit on my hand this fine morn

And do not buzz away

horrible...yes I know...you get the point though

Oh **** - Censorship

When I first started this blog, my aim was to create a forum where I could say whatever I wanted, without fearing or without keeping in mind the consequences of doing so and the impact on those reading this blog. And yet, after about 9 months of posting various ramblings, I have realized that I have fallen prey to the very things that I warned myself against in my first post.

If you look at the post immediately preceding this one, you'll get an idea of how much I censor myself. That particular post was supposed to be about a particular issue, one that has given me quite a bit of trouble for the past little while. See, here I go again - censoring myself.

I guess, when I wrote that first post and said that I wouldn't censor myself, I assumed that people who read this blog wouldn't know me personally, and hence, I could write stuff without thinking about what they would think. But as time has progressed, I've realized how wrong I was when I first wrote that post. Many of the people I know, in fact many of the people I'm closest to, read this blog. And, although they already know most of what's happening in my life, it would perhaps be an insult to the trust I have in them to announce to the entire world the goings-on in my insignificant (to an extent) world.

At the same time, there are things which I cannot tell some of those same friends, to put it on this blog before telling them, would be wrong. Finally, being me, I don't want to hurt the sentiments of the people around me, and so, censorship will have to remain. Of course I'll try and say things in a round-about manner, like I did in that last post.

Anyway, that's all I have to say....for now at least

The 9 Planets (actually 8 - poor Pluto)

and sometimes all you can do is laugh at the cruel twists of fate and plow through a box of tissues

If Music Be the Food of Love....

I have a paper due in 4 hours. I'm almost done - have 3 pages to write (including the conclusion) and I'm listening to music at full volume.

I love music. I can't imagine life without it. Without band practice. Without sitting with friends and just making up random tunes. Without my CD player, my iPod, my computer music collections. Without my violins and guitars and flute. I always have a tune floating in my mind. I tend to associate memories with specific tunes and songs. I get obsessed with songs - listen to them over and over and over again. Lithium by Evanescence. Raag Khamaaj by Ustad Amjad Ali Khan (from the cd with Ustad Zakir Hussain on the tabla). World Hold On by Bob Sinclar. Mas Que Nada by Sergio Mendes. Sere Nere by Tiziano Ferro. Maula Maula by Rafaqat Ali Khan. Bubbletoes by Jack Johnson. Darbari by Mekaal Hasan Band is the latest. I'm listening to it right now.

Aaahh...can't wait for the next band practice.

In the meantime, I'm going to keep on listening to Darbari (listen to it if you can. the vocals and electric guitar are absolutely amazing) and finish my paper.

Watch this clip from my favourite movie - The Chess Players. The fluidity and expressions of the dancer made me fall in love with this particular dance form (which I couldn't stand before watching this).

Bah

not fair...it was 3:33 am on my laptop but the post says 3:32am..

now y'all are gonna think i lied...:(


bytheway...i cant remember what this post label means...:S it's in russian...confused...maybe babelfish will help...*goes onto babelfish*

hmm..it says 'by chance'...huh? maybe it means random...*goes to babelfish again*

yup..i was right

AshtaVinayaka - #8

It's 3:33 am...and i'm writing my paper and wasting time (i'm almost done...finally...doing both...)


and i was wondering



is it possible to overdose on tea? if it is, imma do it tonite i think...

hmm..

Ahh Those Sinistras (Leftists)

As usual, I was on the bus today, coming home after my terrorism midterm so that I could work on my Islamism and nuclear weapons paper. While I was waiting at the bus stop for my connection to the North part of V-city, I heard some noise: it was an anti-Afghanistan campaign protest.

Led by a bald lady with a megaphone, the 15-person strong protest was quite amusing. They, obviously, were protesting the Cdn 'occupation' of Afghanistan. One person had a banner that said "drop tuition not bombs" (which, as a university student I find amusing. I go to one of the best universities in the country and tuition here is about $5000. If I had gone to Harvard, I'd be shelling out $30,000 for my tuition). Another person was holding a banner that said "I support the Afghan insurgency".

What I found amusing, in my own political science sort of way, was the inherent hypocrisy of the person with the insurgency banner. I'm sure he condemned the 9/11 bombings and the Taliban's repressive policies and would never think of saying that he supports al-Qaeda, but isn't that what his banner's doing? The Afghan insurgency is propogated by the Taliban and members of al-Qaeda. What an idiot.

What amused me even more was that lady with the megaphone couldn't even say Afghanistan properly. *shakes her head*. Get the name right woman and then tell the armed forces to leave.


One thing I realized today - extreme leftists - are such hypocrites.

Thoughts...

This is me just putting out some thoughts on Islamic terrorism and, more importantly, the word Islamism - and I guess the entire topic is inspired by my paper (yes, I'm still writing it...on part two right now) and this course I'm taking on terrorism (with a focus on the Islamic type).

I've read quite a bit about the entire topic of Islamism over the past 2 months or so, and in all the papers and articles and books I've read, I haven't come across one definition of the word Islamism. It's used arbitrarily and constantly in these works, something that I find both troubling and problematic for a couple of reasons.

Firstly, on a policy level, if we want to 'combat' this particular radical movement, and on an academic level, if we want to analyze the increase in fundamentalism based on a radical interpretation of Islam, we need to understand what we're looking at first. If we neither define the term nor determine who constitutes an 'Islamist', how are we going to operate successfully on both the political and academic levels?

Tying into that, who are the Islamists? Are they the political leaders of parties like the Jamiat-ul-Ulema-i-Islam in Pakistan? Are they the individuals who folow Osama bin Laden and are members of al-Qaeda? Are they the soldiers of Hamas? Are they the clerics around the world who have an anti-American bent and incite people to violent jihad and terrorism through their sermons?

On another level, can we really define Islamism properly? If we can't define Islam, how do we define Islamism? And I say this for a couple of reasons. If we look at contemporary Islamic society, we'll see that the ummah - the concept of a transnational Muslim community - does not exist. There is no emir-el-momineen (leader of the faithful) and no caliphate. Islamic society today is perhaps more divided than it has ever been - and I don't say this in a political sense.

Islam, as most know, is divided into three distinct sects: Sunnism, Shi'ism and Sufism. Furthermore, each of these can be divided into more factions. Let's look at the extremes within these sects. In Sunnism, on one hand, there are the ultra-radical Salafists and Wahhabists. On the other, there are the average Sunni Muslims who are, in all probability, quite peaceful and follow the non-violent and pacific verses and principles of the Qur'an and the religion. In Shi'ism, the distinction between radicalism and moderation is perhaps more pronounced. On one hand, there are the followers of the late Ayatollah Khomeini. On the other are the Nizari Ismailis, followers of the Aga Khan and perhaps the most pro-Western and moderate Muslims in the world today. Sufism, my favourite of the three, is perhaps the most varied and divided. Sufis usually follow a particular sheikh. As well, Sufism varies quite a bit in its method of practice. In Persia, many Sufis follow the teachings of Maulana Jalaluddin Rumi. In India, much of Sufi philosophy has blended with medieval Hindu spirituality, creating this absolutely phenomenal mixture.

So...again..if we can't define Islam, how do we define Islamism?

Why we need to/should define it next time. And the implications for policy-making the time after that.

That's it for now....

Prayer of Sorts

Maahi ve maahi ve arz karaan
Mainoo vi asmaani fitrat de
Vadaa main hoke vi chukya rawaa
Dola ve dola ve himmat de

Jo vi milay pyaar naal milay
Eh nafrat dil chon door karke...
Insaani rishta nibhaavaan main
Geheraa noo apnaa banaavaan




(translation to follow...once I get my Punjabi bff - best friend of course - to help me with two words...)

that's it for now...ciao, adios, au revoir..and remember...to be born again first you must die

~nabz

You'd Think They'd Have Brains

So this South Korean hostage crisis in Afghanistan. Now don't get me wrong. I'm not supporting the Taliban's decision to take them into captivity and kill two of them, but comon, have some sense.

When you've just removed an orthodox Muslim group from power, when you're fighting against an Islamist group that wants to destroy the USA because it disagrees with its values, when you know that these same Islamists see the entire issue as a conflict between Islam and Christianity...

YOU DON'T SEND CHRISTIAN WORKERS INTO THE COUNTRY - which is just what these South Koreans are. Fine, be Christian but don't go as a Christian organization - of course the Taliban is going to kidnap/kill you.

Idiots

A Pat on the Back

so it's time for some self praising - something i normally don't do - but i feel as if i need to at this point, just so when i get back to my bad habits i can remember my wonderful past...

my bad habits? no nothing like what you're thinking...i'm a good girl (here is where my friends go *ahem* *ahem*)

but no seriously...i'm pretty good..at least, i think i am

so back on topic...i'm a perpetual procrastinator..seriously - i'm the type that procrastinates about not procrastinating, that gets distracted from distraction by distraction. yes one of those types. and all through out my long school career (that is, if you count preschool and elementary middle and high school and now my Bachelors...) i've done everything at the last minute...from doing my math homework to writing my papers to studying for finals...but i've tended to do quite well ahem...case in point..history 12 exam...studied the nite before...got 98...ya...so...ya

but now..it's quite weird, and i'm quite proud of myself...perhaps more so than the 98....i have a final for my american foreign policy course on thursday..it's one of those 3 week intensive courses where each lecture corresponds to a week of class during regular session. and we have class 4 times a week. ouch?? yup...but..amazingly, even with all my other work, i'm done all my readings...yes all 24 of them...this is the first time EVER that i've been done my readings a couple of days before my exam....and so...a toast (the bread kind of course...:P) to me...


oh yes..and note the new (and improved hopefully) selfistan..i prefer these colours...more subtle..and more me...

that's it for now...ciao, adios, au revoir...and remember...to be born again...first you must die...

Ramblings of a Confused Mind

it falls
softly
silently even
creating an even greater void
between you
and me
us….maybe not
maybe you
maybe me
maybe nobody
for once
it stopped
the rain
that is
and I saw
you standing
there waiting
I think
I hope
Maybe getting ready
To turn away
Or preparing
To come to me
Or neither
Which was probably
The case
But I have
No idea


It’s still falling
Louder now
Bigger drops
No…
Larger drops
Of water
Maybe tears
Ya
Salty tears
The type
That fall without
Cessation
That fall
Without reason
But that’s a lie


As long as it
Continues to rain
Doesn’t snow
The winter and the cold
Don’t come
We’ll stand
Across
From each other
Or possibly
Across from others
Who we don’t know
We don’t want
To know
At least
I don’t
Not now
Not for
A while

Burnt Norton - snippet

Footfalls echo in the memory

Down the passage which we did not take

Towards the door we never opened

Into the rose-garden. My words echo

Thus, in your mind. But to what purpose

Disturbing the dust on a bowl of rose-leaves

I do not know. Other echoes

Inhabit the garden. Shall we follow?

Feeling Hot Hot Hot? Have a Water Fight

Before I start, I need to make something clear. The 'feeling hot hot hot' song is sooo overplayed that it's gotten a bit annoying - although, I love the 'ole ole' part of the song. The reason it's in the title is that it was the first thing I thought about and that it speaks to the hotness of the weather here in V-city. On one day, 6 high-temperature records were set around the province - crazy.

It's been in the high 20s the past 2 weeks or so - no rain whatsoever. The busses and the traffic in the centre of town have been absolutely aweful. It's usually been about 5 degrees hotter inside the busses. Imagine being stuck in traffic in that heat - with no a/c and with people all around you. Harsh. Yes.

So, on Saturday, thanks to the amazingness that is Facebook, V-city's largest waterfight was organized. Around 500 people showed-up over the two hours of the fight - me being one of them. It was absolutely awesome! I don't think I've had this much childish fun for a long time. What impressed me the most was the civility of the people there. Most people barely knew more than 5 others there, but had no problem squirting water at complete strangers. The standers-by were perfectly safe. No-one's camera got wet, neither did their clothes. As well, people followed the only-squirt-those-with-guns rule to a 't'. Needless to say, we got soaked.

After the fight, my friends and I went to the kids water park - still fully clothed (in board shorts and t-shirts though) and splashed around like we were 2-year olds. We got some odd looks from some people, but most had become accustomed to us big kids taking over the waterpark. Where do you think we got all the water for the fight from? It was an amazing Saturday.

The only downside - my sunburnt nose. But, I can live with that.

That's it for now...ciao, adios, au revoir...and remember...to be born again first you must die...

~me

Ghazal

Kabhi aansoo kabhi khushi bechi
Hum garibon ne bekasi bechi
Chand saanse khareedne ke liye
Roz thodi si zindagi bechi
Ek hum the ke bik gaye khud hi
Varnaa duniya ne dosti bechi

At times I sold tears, at times happiness,
We poor ones sold our helplessness;
To buy a few breaths,
Everyday we sold a bit of our life;
I was the only one who sold myself,
The rest of the world sold their friends.

-Abu Talib

Game, Set, Match Mr. Federer

A packed Centre Court at Wimbledon, 2pm on a Sunday, two men emerge through the green doors. The first, tall and lean, wearing white in the tradition of the All England Lawn and Tennis Club walks with poise, grace and determination. The other, also in white, with his long brown hair almost prances behind the first, his muscles bulging - ready to face the challenge. As they enter the court, the thousands light up and cheer.

Welcome to the Gentlemen's Singles Championship - Mr. R. Federer (1) vs. Mr. R. Nadal (2)

As I watch my favourite sporting event at home, at 6am in the morning, I can't help but wish I were there, watching the two best in the sport at the time and one of the all-time greats (if not the best ever) battle it out for tennis' most prestigious tournament. Even through the screen of the tv, I can sense how momentous this match is for both players. Federer, who I have admired since he ended Sampras' four-title win-streak at Wimbledon in 2001, is playing for his 5th straight title. Bjorn Borg, the same man who phoned Federer after the above match in 2001 to thank the Swiss for preventing Sampras from equalling his 5 straight titles record, is here to watch Federer attempt to do the same.

Nadal, on the other hand, is in the quest for another of Borg's records - that of winning Roland Garros and Wimbledon in the same year - a grueling task. But Nadal, as many say, is made of krypotonite. Never does he seem to falter physically. But he's played here 7 days in a row. Will his body let him down when he needs it most?

The part of me that admires Federer wanted the match to be an easy one for him. Honestly, when this match began, I was not a fan of Nadal. I found his game too physical, devoid of the beauty of the game - the various spin shots, the unthinkable angles, the soft feet, the volleys at net. Whereas Federer has always been a master. After some shots, one can only say 'wow.'

But there was another part of me that wanted to see Federer challenged, that wanted him to have to earn the title, that wanted him to proclaim to the world that he was truly the best in the world and not someone who used his skill to finish off matches quickly, that he could fight and that he could fight when he most needed it. Having lost at the finals of Roland Garros to Nadal two years in a row, and with speculation that Nadal would win Wimbledon before Federer would win Roland Garros, I wanted Federer to show Nadal what he was made of.

The match started well for Federer, with an easy hold and an easy break of serve. But after that, the fighter in Nadal emerged -ready for battle - and Federer was broken. They fought each other to 6-all and Federer emerged from the tiebreak, with his serve, victorious.

1-set to love. Mr. Federer.

The second set was tense. Federer was unable to keep his momentum for long and Nadal pounced. Unable to break Nadal, Federer had to make sure that he held his own serve. But Nadal, always the fighter, pounced like a cat and took the set 6-4.

1-set all.

Third set. When this one started, I was scared. I thought that if Federer lost this one, Nadal would gain enough momentum and pull it out in the fourth. Both players played amazing tennis in this set. For me, not usually the religious type, it was as if god was battling satan for control over paradise. God, the established one, was fighting for his home - which centre court has become for Federer - satan, the rebel, the one with the unorthodox game, was attempting to usurp paradise from god. Both - almost equal - waiting for the other to falter - unable to expel the other one easily - wanting it so much.

Game and Set Mr. Federer. Mr. Federer leads 2-sets to 1.

Fourth set. I thought it was all over for Nadal at this stage. Having watched Roger play since 2001, I've seen him take control of a match at this stage. But Nadal should get credit for the way he came back in the first few games of the set. Serving first after the third-set tiebreak, Rafa held easily. Now it was Federer's turn. He had won the tiebreak with the help of his serve and it was expected that he would hold easily. But Rafa broke him. How? I have no idea. It happened so fast that I was in shock. 2-0. Then 3-0. Wait. It was Nadal who was supposed to be down 3-0. But upon reading the scoreboard again - it was Federer who had faltered. So what happened? It seems as if Federer was unnerved by Hawk-eye. The electronic line machine. Having opposed the implementation of the technology since its inception, Federer became frustrated when the Hawk-eye made a couple of calls against him. Now, Federer has amazing eyes when it comes to calling lines - he rarely makes a mistake. Hawk-eye on the other hand, is 90% correct and has a range of +/- 3 mm. The calls made against Federer were all in this range, and so, it's possible that Federer was correct and Hawk-eye was wrong. Federer went up to the chairperson, demanded that Hawk-eye be turned-off. But the chairperson refused and Federer went back to the baseline. 4-love, fourth set, Mr. Nadal.

Game and Set Mr. Nadal. 2-sets all.

And so, Roger, Rafa, and the thousands of fans prepared for a fifth set. In the four previous years that he'd won Wimbledon, Roger hadn't played a fifth set. No-one had had the ability to push him to one. Rafa had already played two in this particular championship, and with his physical strength and with the momentum he had gained during the fourth set, one wondered whether he'd be able to wrest the championship from Roger. It seemed, as well, that Roger had become somewhat human, and Rafa had elevated himself to semi-god status. Could Roger fight and bring out the best in his tennis game for this occasion? Did he have the fitness and the nerves and the mental strength to win this championship, with so much history involved?

Roger started the fifth set and held serve. And then it was Rafa's turn. He held as well. 1-1. And then, Roger started serving again, and all of a sudden was down 15-40. Double break point to Nadal. Somehow, Roger was able to muster up powerful serves and won the game. 2-1 Roger. And then Nadal held serve again, quite easily. With no tiebreak in the fifth, who would break first? Roger hadn't broken Nadal since the first set. And Nadal had had many chances against Federer. Would Nadal win it? It sure seemed that way. 2-2 Nadal.

Fifth game of the fifth set and again Roger saw himself 15-40 down. I stopped breathing, and it sure sounded as if the spectators at Centre Court had stopped as well. 30-40. Deuce. And finally- Game Federer. 3-2 Roger.

And then the moment I'd been waiting for. Break point Federer. And he did it. Finally. 4-2 Roger. Would he be able to hold again? Yes, yes, YES! 5-2 Federer. Four points away from another spot in the history books. It was Rafa's serve and John McEnroe wondered if Roger would finish it off during this game. Championship point Federer. Deuce. Championship point #2. At this stage, I'm staring intensely at the screen. So engrossed that now I can't even remember whether Roger hit a winner or Nadal hit it into the net. But I remember Roger coming to the net, volleying, and then on his knees. Game Set Match Mr. Federer. Finally. The champion had prevailed, and Nadal would have to wait one more year to win on grass.

I've watched the Gentlemen's finals at Wimbledon every year since I was 5. I saw mortals like Krajicek and Ivanisevic win here, and tennis gods Sampras and Agassi and Federer lift the trophy. I hope Roger wins next year so that he can surpass Borg's record. Before today, I wouldn't have said this but, if Nadal wins the year after, I won't mind - maybe I'll even be glad (perhaps provided that he lets Roger win in Paris)

That's it for now...ciao, adios, au revoir...and remember...to be born again first you must die.

~me

Apathetic Boohoo

why is it that the stuff (not just material obviously) that we want and need most is the stuff we can't have.

it sux

leads to unhappiness

and to pissd-offness

and to odd posts on selfistan

oh and that's an oxymoron - the title of this post

this post isn't really apathetic...

if you hadn't figured that out yet

that's it

no more

not even that one line about being born again

who cares....

(apathy? that line above.....)

who knows....

For the Hell of It

laahdidahh..so i noticed i havent posted in a looooong time, and i don't like my blog to feel unwanted and sad so i need to post something up here but i dont know what to write cuz i have nothing to write about so perhaps this will be a stream of consciousness of sorts one in which periods and paragraphs and commas dont exist nor do apostrophes or colons the grammatical sort and other tools but yes this is going to be an odd post of sorts if you havent already noticed there is perhaps a distinct lack well not perhaps there is definitely going to be a lack of intellectual surmising and discussion and writing and a lot of words maybe not totally sure about that yet well see when the end of this post happens which might happen now or it might happen in 2 lines or maybe never but i doubt that because eventually ill get tired and fall asleep or i might just get bored and walk away and never return but then again i cant function without my computer its kinda sad im way too addicted to it to blogger to facebook to msn to google scholar and online libraries and newspapers and everything else thats on the wonderful world wide web they should call it the wwww instead of the www yay for alliteration reminds me of a particular rhyme i made up one day about a jacket no the alliteration wasnt with the jacket it was with distance and darkness and such but stupid jacket stupid alliteration stupid everything and actually no not stupid everything stupid people who piss me off which is a lot of people and stupid people who say one thing and do another and stupid people yes you who sign off on msn without saying bye who say theyll be back in 2 minutes but never show up stupid selfish people stupid ignorant people who cant make informed decisions about everything from food to political leaders and then we wonder why people like the shrub are in power who do things like invade countries propound orientalist and huntingtonesque philosophies which are so damn wrong because they make our world so freaking divided along lines which exist and will continue to exist but shouldnt what about world peace what about living in harmony and not having the capability to kill yourself and your world who knows how many times over isnt that scary doesnt it freak you out that we have ADVANCED so far that we can murder ourselves and our entire human race within a span of minutes or perhaps even seconds is this advancement is this progress the ability to decimate ourselves is this what the dinosaurs died for and the people during the countless wars that we have fought since we were cavemen and cavewomen and cavekids wow this is one long stream of consciousness rite scrabble game finished therefore post finished

thats it for now you know the rest im not gonna say it so ya ciao

Sir Salman...

So, having been inspired by Sir Salman Rushdie's quote on Selfistan to start this particular blog, I feel it is necessary to comment on his recent knighthood. Rushdie, as many of you hopefully know, is an author of Indian origin. Born in Bombay, he did his initial schooling in the city of dreams and then went to the UK - Cambridge if I am not mistaken - for his post-grad degree(s).

His family background, as his name suggests, is Muslim; but Rushdie left the ummah at a young age. Why? I don't know; perhaps he found it too restricting. Anyway, in 1988 he wrote The Satanic Verses - a book that touched on the issue of verses delivered to the Prophet Mohammed by Satan, which were then apparently rescinded once Mohammed realized their true nature. On February 14th of that year, he received a fatwa - essentially a death sentence - from Ayatollah Khomeini for being a traitor to Islam and for questioning Mohammed and the religion. For the next few years, he went into hiding; one of his publishers was killed; stores that sold his books were firebombed.

Anyway, so his recent knighthood has rekindled hatred for the author in the Islamic world. Now, as you may have guessed, I'm a huge fan of Sir Salman's and have always hoped that he would receive the Nobel Prize for Literature someday. I have also always maintained that he is a much better writer than VS Naipaul, who received the Nobel a few years ago. But at the same time, I think that knighting Rushdie at this point in time was an incorrect move. The Middle East is already feeling as if the West wants to destroy its culture and religion, and this notion is somewhat reinforced by knighting one who has lambasted Islam, at times, and is not in favour with those in the Muslim world.

I was born here in the West and I am also of Muslim heritage - although I do not consider myself Muslim in the true sense. I feel a connection with both sides and I am afraid that Samuel P. Huntington's theory of a Clash of Civilizations is going to occur. Obviously, like countless others, I will be caught in the middle. It seems to me that the West - in particular the USA and the UK - will stop at nothing and will continue to clash head-on with the Islamic world until one side wins and the other loses. I went to a graduation ceremony the other day, and a prominent right-wing journalist delivered the keynote address. In it, he stated that his parents' generation had fought fascism. His generation had fought communism, and it was up to us to fight fear and Islamism.

I agree, to an extent. It is up to my generation to fight fear - not just the fear that Islamists supposedly instil in us - but the fear that the West instils in the Middle East. The fear that is heightened every time the USA supports Israel and invades another Middle Eastern country; the fear that is heightened every time the USA threatens to bomb an Islamic country into the Stone Age; the fear that is heightened every time CNN deals with Islamism.

They - the Middle East's radicals - are not the only ones who have the ability to make others afraid. We - the Western nations - perhaps have a greater ability to do so. We have the economic and political means to do so. Sir Salman's knighthood, is just one of those.


That's it for now...ciao, adios, au revoir..and remember...to be born again first you must die...

~me

Musharraf the Great...(?)

Another post inspired by my all-day and late-night readings on Islam, Hinduism and nuclear weapons. Seriously, I've been researching/reading non-stop for the past week and a half - maybe two weeks and have gotten through some fascinating books - if you haven't noticed by the proliferation (not nuclear of course..:P) of posts on the topic.

So, tonight's post is also somewhat about Islam - well, mostly about Islamic-based terrorism. Recall one of my earlier posts -A Paragraph of Complete Absurdity. I posted it on another forum on the net and received the following comment..

Hi NaBz...This is a very interesting quote. While I agree the author is obviously quite narrow minded, and has a somewhat perverted idea of Islam, im my opinion, the voice of more moderate Muslims must be made louder. Unfortunately, it is much easier to believe the stereotypes cited in the quote, simply due to the type of exposure Islam is recieving in the world today. While I certainly agree that Islam is recieving a raw deal with regards to media coverage, American foreign policy, etc, in order to clean up the religions image, I think mainstream Muslims should perhaps take a more hardline stance against fundamentalism. Thats just my two cents anyway... On a lighter note, what did you think of the concert last nite?

Well, I found the following quote in Pakistani President Pervez Musharraf's autobiography - In the Line of Fire - and immediately thought back to the above comment. The autobiography itself is quite fascinating; Musharraf's life coincides quite well with Pakistan - he was born a couple of years before the creation of the nation - and so, he manages to cover most of the events in the young state's history with first-hand experience. But at the same time, it seems to me as if Musharraf has written the book for a Western, and mainly American, audience. When attempting to explain particular areas in the port city of Karachi, he refers to Harlem and other areas in New York. As well, throughout the book, he attempts to portray himself as one firmly dedicated to moderation, rationality and the benefit of Pakistan. Rarely does he write about his own shortcomings. When he does, he follows it up by speaking about the benefits that arose from his acting in such a manner.

Hmm, I've been writing on here quite a lot these past few days....anyway, here's the quote.

The idea of "enlightened moderation" dawned on me in my study one night when I was meditating on all this. To stop violence, we need a global solution. The turmoil in the Muslim world arises primarily because of unresolved, long-standing political disputes that have created a sense of injustice, alienation, deprivation, powerlessness, and hopelessness in the masses. This situation is aggravated by the fact that by any measure, the Muslim countries have the least healthy social conditions in the world. Political deprivation, combined with poverty and illiteracy, has created an explosive brew of extremism and terrorism. Muslim societies must shun terrorism and extremism if they hope for emancipation and a release from these conditions. But at the same time their demand for a just resolution of certain political disputes must also be addressed.

Enlightened moderation is a two-pronged strategy that I sincerely believe is also a win-win strategy. One prong, to be the responsibility of the Muslim world, is the rejection of terrorism and extremism in order to concentrate fully on internal socioeconomic development. The other prong, to be the responsibility of the West in general and the United States in particular, is to put their full weight behind finding a just resolution of all political disputes afflicting Muslim societies. Justice for Muslims around the world must not only be done, but seen to be done. The Palestinian dispute lies at the core of international turmoil, as does the nuclear flashpoint of Kashmir, which needs urgent resolution if there is to be a permanent peace in south Asia.

That's it for now...ciao, adios, au revoir...and remember...to be born again, first you must die...

~me

Updates and Argh

Rite..so my profile has been updated - of note is my answer to that random question blogger likes to ask its writers...

i was going to write something else here - i thought about it last night, but have now duly forgotten...typical me...

oh well back to work...hmm...perhaps that thought was about my stupid polisci instructor...hmm...ahh...wait...no...yes..? hmm...k..i'll just tell ya'll...


he's a ph.D student..and is teaching a polisci course that starts tomorrow...now generally, polisci courses at my wonderful uni are 3hours a week, 12-13 weeks a term. in the summer, the intense ones (which i am taking for god/gods/blah blah knows what reason) are 3 hours a day, 4 days a week. now, if you have any sense as a student, you're going to stay on top of your readings during these intense courses because falling behind could prove horrible for your GPA...which, i want to maintain at a ridiculously high level....

so stupid ph.D instructor decides to NOT have a textbook for the course and, instead, puts some materials on the darling internet and the rest in the reserve room at the library. now, there are about 100 students in this class, and about 2 copies of the books that are needed. with some common sense, which this instructor is obviously lacking, one would understand the horrific line-ups and waits to get those particular books.

so..not needing to take this course, i've decided to drop it...but that means losing my summer scholarship cuz now i'm taking less than a full summer course load....argh....


oh well...it's better to lose a scholarship than to screw up ur GPA by taking a course you never even wanted to in the first place....

rite..back to work

that's it for now...ciao, adios, au revoir...and remember...to be born again first you must die...

~moi

True Ramblings II

So I've been sitting here for a while now, with my laptop on my desk, a headache in my teeth and a cold in my throat - and I think, well I know, that there's something wrong but I still haven't figured out what. For the past while - not just the while I've been sitting here - things have been quite odd, well, odd for my life. It seems as if everything that I expect or want to happen doesn't happen - the opposite does - well, to tell you the truth, not everything - the only thing that tends to occur as I wish it to these days is my work and academic stuff - which in the whole scheme of things, perhaps occupies - should occupy - a secondary position.

But at the same time, it's all quite amusing - amusing for me with my incomprehensible (for others mostly) sense of amusement. I have this odd ability, I think, to look at my general life as if I were an outsider, as if I were God or Gods or a spirit or a something looking down upon me from high above, or perhaps from down below (I still haven't decided which direction I've been looking at myself from).

But sometimes, this ability fails me - as it has been doing recently. Not only have I been relying on a few friends to tell me what's wrong with me, I've also realized that I'm slowly inching towards apathy - which I've always despised with a passion. Perhaps the oddity of my life has acted as a numbing force - things just don't make an impact on me now. Or perhaps I've just stopped caring about myself and things around me - although this option seems less plausible than the former. But whatever it is, it has to change. Maybe this forum of randomness will assist me get back to the randomness and interest of old. I sure hope it does.


That's it for now...ciao, adios, au revoir...and remember...to be born again, first you must die...

~me


now..i shall go renew my Economist subscription...

Arriba 1

thus starts the Arriba section...quotes by Arriba...enjoy...:P



uufff.... honestly it is so beyond even I with the magnificent imagination I posses cannot unerstand how far beyond fugly they are



yes...word for word...letter for letter....

Nucular (sic) Weapons

I think the governments of ALL the nuclear weapon states in the world should read this quote. As has been the case for the past few posts, I came across this during my research. It's from an article called "Renouncing the Nuclear Option" by Zia Mian.



From a moral standpoint there is little difference between a nuclear "option" and a nuclear weapon. Having a nuclear "option" means deciding you may want to commit mass murder at some time in the future and are preparing for it now. The intention is there from the moment the decision is made that committing such murder is an option. The actual killing only involves deciding when to do it.

That's it for now...ciao, adios, au revoir...and remember...to be born again first you must die...

~me

I'm Sorry Osama

So, as part of my research on religion and the bomb in South Asia, I've been reading this fascinating book called "Islamic Political Ethics." Edited by Sohail H. Hashmi, it is a collection of essays about the relationship between politics and religion in Islam.

Anyway, so the essays quote the Qur'an often and at length. One of the essays, titled "Interpreting the Islamic Ethics of War and Peace" (by Hashmi), deals with - as the name suggests - war and peace. Hashmi speaks mostly about the concept and types of jihad through an analysis of classical and medieval Islamic theories and constructs/deconstructs these particular theories with the aid of the Qur'an.

I came across this particular ayat from the Qur'an and realized that it had the ability to deligitimize what most people usually call Islamic terrorism. Apologies Osama, looks like your entire legitimacy has gone down the drain. Funny how the Bush admin hasn't looked at this particular verse and denounced Osama and al-Qaeda for being kafirs. I would have. But then again, it is the Bush administration - so I'm not really surprised.

If your Lord had so willed, all those who are on Earth would have believed;

Will you then compel mankind against their will to believe?

- 10:99

That's all for now...ciao, adios, au revoir...and remember...to be born again first you must die...

~me

A Paragraph of Complete Absurdity

I found this paragraph in Edward Said's "Covering Islam" - and found it so absurd that I had to post it up here. Note though, that Said does not agree with the following paragraph, but publishes it in his book to show "lazy historical judgement, over-generalization, and incredible stereotyping of the kind no one who has anything seriously to do with Islam would recognize as near- nonsense."

Here goes...

Certain cultures and subcultures, homes of frustrated causes, are destined breeding grounds for terrorism. The Islamic culture is the most notable example. That culture's view of its own rightful position in the world is profoundly at variance with the actual order of the contemporary world. It is God's will that the House of Islam should triumph over the House of War (the non-Moslem) world, and not just by spiritual means. "Islam Means Victory" is a slogan of the Iranian fundamentalists in the Gulf. To strike a blow against the House of War is meritorious; consequently, there is widespread support for activities condemned in the West as terrorist. Israel is one main target for these activities, but the activities would not be likely to cease even if Israel came to an end.

- Conor Cruise O'Brien

What I find fascinating, and a tad unnerving at the same time, is that Said's book was first written in 1981 - and then updated in 1997 (this quote was presumably inserted at that time as it has been taken from the June 1986 edition of 'The Atlantic') - but speaks about issues that are extremely relevant today: the perversion of Islam in the media, the way in which Islam and terrorism purported by those from predominantly-Muslim states are used synonymously, the rise in anti-Americanism in the Muslim world as a result of American policies and so on....


That's it for now...ciao, adios, au revoir...and remember...to be born again first you must die...

~me

Falling...

if you must fall, fall with beauty and grace

Delicious Ambiguity

A quote I found searching for Death Quotes. No, I'm not suicidal, nor am I obsessed with death and dying. I just find it a fascinating topic.

I wanted a Perfect ending.

Now I've learned,

The hard way,

That some poems don't rhyme,

And some stories don't have a clear beginning,

Middle,

And End.

Life is about not knowing,

Having to change,

Taking the Moment,

And making the best of it,

Without knowing what's going to

Happen Next.

Delicious Ambiguity.

-Gilda Radner

That's it for now...ciao, adios, au revoir...and remember...to be born again first you must (hehe..i swear i'm not obsessed..:P)

~me

Urdu Rock

So, I am currently in the midst of writing my final paper of the year - for my South Asian Languages course - on the concept and character of the lover in Mirza Asadullah Khan 'Ghalib''s Urdu ghazals. Sound like a concentrated topic? Well, actually, it's probably one of the broadest topics I could have picked, and thus, is one helluva hard paper to write.

For the past hour or so, I've been typing out all the ashaar (verses) I've found in a copy of Ghalib's abridged divaan (a divaan is essentially the "Complete Works of Ghalib" organized alphabetically by rhyme scheme). As a music-nut, I always listen to music, and so, I decided to turn-on my Windows Media Player and play some...

Now, this may come as a surprise to those of you that know me, but I am an Evanescence fan. I love Amy Lee's music and the power that arises from the combination of her beautiful voice and those absolutely amazing electric guitars.

At first, I thought that Ghalib and Evanescence were an odd combination, and a part of me still does. But, at the same time, I have come to realize that they are quite similar. Ghalib, and the ghazal genre for that matter, is quite obsessed by the concept of unrequited love and much of Ghalib is a cry from the 'aashiq (lover) to his ma'shuq (beloved). And, similarly, much of Evanescence's music deals with the same topic. Listen to Lithium or Snow White Queen or even My Immortal and you'll find a modern version of Ghalib's 'aashiq.

If I could play electric guitar (hmm...what would electric violin sound like?) I would take this following verse from my favourite Ghalib ghazal and revolutionize South Asian rock.

Mohabbat mein nahin hai farq jeene aur marne ka

Usi ko dekh kar jeete hain jis kaafir peh dam nikle.

There is no difference between living and dying in love

We live by gazing at the unbeliever for whose love we are dying.

Hmm...Urdu ghazals don't translate well. Oh well, back to my paper and my music.

That's it for now...ciao, adios, au revoir...and remember...to be born again first you must die...

~me

Do Not Ask of Me..

Do not ask of me, my love, that love I once had for you.

There was a time when life was bright and young and blooming,

And your sorrow was much more than any other pain,

Your beauty gave the spring everlasting youth,

Your eyes were everything, all else was vain,

While you were mine, I thought, the world was mine,

Though now I know that it was not reality, that’s the way I imagined it to be,

For there are other sorrows in the world than those of love,

And pleasures other than that of union.

Do not ask of me, my love, that love I once had for you.

- Faiz Ahmed Faiz

(adapted from a translation by Mahmood Jamal)

This isn't an accurate translation of the Urdu, but gets the main thoughts across decently.

That's it for now...ciao, adios, au revoir...and remember...to be born again first you must die...

~me

mujh se pehli si mohabbat

mujh se pehli si mohabbat meri mehboob na maang.

maine samjha tha ki tu hai to darakhshaan hai hayaat,

tera gham hai to gham-e-dahar ka jhagdaa kya hai,

teri surat se hai aalam mein bahaaron ko sabaat,

teri aankhon ke siva duniya mein rakkha kya hai,

tu jo mil jaaye to taqdeer nigun ho jaaye

yun na tha maine fakat chaahaa tha yun ho jaaye

aur bhi dukh hai zamaane mein mohabbat ke siva

raahatein aur bhi hai vasl ki raahat ke siva.

mujh se pehli si mohabbat meri mehboob na maang.

- Faiz Ahmed Faiz

with apologies to those who don't understand Urdu/Hindi

that's it for now...ciao, adios, au revoir...and remember...to be born again first you must die

~me

मुझ से पहली सी महब्बत

मुझ से पहली सी महब्बत मेरी महबूब ना मांग ।

मैं ने समझा था कि तू है तो दरख्शाँ है हयात

तेरा ॰गम है तो ॰गम -ए- दहर का झगड़ा क्या है

तेरी सूरत से है आलम में बहारों को सबात

तेरी आँखों के सिवा दुनिया में रक्खा क्या है

तू जो मिल जाये तो तक़दीर निगूं हो जाये

यूं न था मैं ने फ़कत चाहा था यूं हो जाये

और भी दुःख है ज़माने में महब्बत के सिवा

राहतें और भी हैं वस्ल की राहत के सिवा ।

मुझ से पहली सी महब्बत मेरी महबूब न मांग

- फैज़ अहमद फैज़

with apologies to those who cannot read nagari...

that's it for now...ciao, adios, au revoir...and remember...to be born again first you must die

~me

Freefall Freefall All Through Life

four in three months...

to whoever...we're not flies...


that's it for now...ciao, adios, au revoir...and remember...to be born again first - ah forget it

Music @ the Corner

i've been somewhat depressed for the past couple of days and i was standing at the bus stop today at around 9:30pm. it was a beautiful night and a guy was sitting at the corner of the street singing "Yesterday" by the Beatles. He wasn't a great singer or anything, but sang with so much passion it was quite touching. And then it started raining slightly....


That's it for now...ciao, adios, au revoir...and remember...to be born again first you must die

~me

the hypocrisy of it all....

so...ever since i started going to school at the wee age of 2.5 years, my teachers and those around me have told me that i live in a secular nation - that religion has no place in government and blah blah blah...

as a non-religious person, i've always loved the idea of living in a secular country - seriously, politics without god/gods is less-screwd than politics with god/gods...i have nothing against religions and religion and people who profess to them - i just dont think it makes good political sense to incorporate it into government...

so, i'm kinda upset right now...because it's Good Friday and Easter Monday this week...and it's a national holiday..like come'on seriously...this is totally shattering my notion of secularism in Canada...

if we can have a national holiday for Easter, why can't we have one for Eid (both of them), Vesak, Diwali, why don't we observe Sabbath???

secularism and national holiday for Easter...ahh..the hypocrisy of it all...


that's it for now...ciao, adios, au revoir...and remember...to be born again first you must die

~me

666 - Satan? amm...no

its impossible to be objective.. even that thought is subjective

not my thought..jst thought it was interesting...hence posting it in Selfistan...thanks to S

that's it for now...ciao, adios, au revoir...and remember...to be born again first you must die

~me

The Daily Grind

If you think that the daily grind refers to my day-to-day existence, think again. Contrary to popular opinion (which is that the daily grind refers to my day-to-day existence), the daily grind does not refer to my day-to-day existence. Rather it refers to that which is somewhat a part of my day-to-day existence, but does not make-up my day-to-day existence alone and without other parts of my day-to-day existence. I am quite sure that this daily grind is a part of your day-to-day existence, especially if you are a university student (like me) who is up during the wee hours of the night on a consistent basis because you are doing work and then cannot sleep when you have no work because of insomnia and an addiction to the daily grind.

If you haven't figured out what the daily grind is yet - god/gods/higher being/spirit/you/no-one help you.

It's coffee. Don't make me explain what the grind refers to. Ok fine. For those of you not addicted to coffee yet, coffee must be ground before it can be brewed. The daily grind is my daily cup of coffee - obviously.

So, having not slept much for the past few days (ie 15 hours in the past 5 days or so), I needed coffee before I headed to the library to catch-up on my readings (i was doing other work during those sleep-less nights). So, I bought a nice cup of coffee and headed to Ike's land to look for a nice couch where I could drink my coffee and read papers on India's nuclear (or nucular as you-know-who would say) programme. Whenever I've gone to Ike's land, or any other library on campus, I've always been allowed to get in with my coffee. But no. Today, there was a person on guard.

And she stopped me. "HELLOOOOOO (in a very annoying voice i may add). You can't take coffee into the library." So I was pissed (i was grumpy already...). She made me finish my coffee outside. I had been so looking forward to drinking it slowly throughout the afternoon. As a result, I burned my tongue, had a stomach ache from drinking it too quickly, got into a worse mood, and fell asleep while studying and was late for my next class. All because of a person who didn't let me take my coffee inside.


At the end of my studying session though, I was glad of one thing.



THANK GOD/GODS/HIGHER BEING/SPIRIT/ME/NO-ONE that she didn't see my brownie. Otherwise... that would've been sad...:(



Funnily enough, I saw her later on that evening. I was passing through the SUB, and she was sitting in...yes...you guessed it...the coffee shop...


That's it for now...ciao, adios, au revoir...and remember...to be born again first you must die


~me

the five senses...

I said 'let there be light' and was blinded as a result. Now I sit in the darkness.



but

who blinded me

what blinded me

what is darkness

what is light

why did i say 'let there be light'


back to my paper-editing (i'm getting published...woohoooooo)

that's it for now...ciao, adios, au revoir...and remember...to be born again first you must die


~me

For the love of Karl...

not that i luv marx or anything...but..this scene is just too brilliant not to put up here...enjoy..




that's it for now...ciao, adios, au revoir...and remember...to be born again first you must die

~me

Honesty and Indecision

In one of my first posts, perhaps in the first one itself, I mused about my inability to write on/in a particular forum for an extended period of time. Having not rambled in Selfistan regularly for the past few weeks, I found it necessary to write something today. Whether it makes sense or stays a stream of connected yet incomprehensible words remains to be seen. I guess my reason for abandoning Selfistan for the past few weeks has been a result of my, to keep it simple, odd life. Although Selfistan is supposed to be a forum in which I talk about myself and my life, I tend to get very clammy about things that affect me the most. That being said, I can be, and tend to be, very open about some things. What those things are, you'll just have to wait and see and hope that I talk about them in RFS....

So, I've been sitting now for about 10 minutes deciding what to write about next. I've thought about copying some of TS Eliot's brilliance from The Waste Land or from The Love Song of J.Alfred Prufrock but I don't think it'll fit in that well with this particular post. I've also debated writing about my adventures downtown and looking for a bus stop, but it's a bit boring now - although I found it quite amusing when it happened. I could also speak about my odd dreams - the bombings in Afghanistan, the gay friend looking for Indian-style crackers, thinking my car was on fire - but then, people might analyze them, and I don't want them to. Why? Read the first paragraph.

I think I'll leave this blog with a thought - one that I realized while working with some truly amazing kids at an elementary school this past week. Often, we 'big kids' tend to measure our accomplishments in terms of the recognition we get or the money we earn. And we forget about the smaller accomplishments, the ones that were important to us when we were young.

Often, the best measure of an accomplishment is the size of a child's smile, not the end product.

That's it for now...ciao, adios, au revoir...and remember...to be born again first you must die

~me

ramble ramble ramble

It's been almost a week since I've rambled in my characteristic style - perhaps not subjecting people to my thought processes is a good thing, but perhaps (rather surprisingly) people 'enjoy' reading my rambles because of their, at times, pointless nature. And yet, I beg to differ. I don't think what I write here is pointless. It may sound pointless and idiotic and mad - in the crazy weird sense not the i'm pissed off sense - but it has a deeper meaning. Trust me. If I say it has a deeper meaning then it does, purely for the reason that I wrote it and therefore I should hopefully know the true meaning of it.

Emphasis on hopefully.

But seriously, I hope people aren't taking Ramblings From Selfistan literally. Honestly, if you're doing that you're stupid. Why take things that are not meant to be taken literally, literally? It's literally idiotic.

Ok i'm tired..gonna go sleep..no more rambling

that's it for now...ciao, adios, au revoir...and remember...to be born again first you must die

~me

The Four Seasons - quattro

If you can't have a header, try a footer

Some of you may remember the problems I had in trying to put my Ramblings from Selfistan header up on this blog. Well, it's now a footer.

Problem solved....

that's it for now...ciao, adios, au revoir...and remember...to be born again first you must die

~me

Trisharana - the three refuges - 3

And sometimes life hits you on the head with a club and instead of becoming unconscious you gain the consciousness that you had lost a long time ago.

my head hurts but I refuse to take aspirin or tylenol or any other refuge from the pain

that's it for now...ciao, adios, au revoir...and remember...to be born again first you must die

~me

Happy Anniversary

Well..it's been two months since I started rambling on the magical and fantastical - at times - world of Selfistan that I live in and it's been an 'interesting' (for lack of a better word) experience. Like I said in one of my earlier posts, perhaps the first one, I don't generally write blogs or diaries - and when I've attempted to do so, I've failed horribly.

But, that being said, it's been two months and I'm still at it, and have been writing relatively regularly - which is impressive, for me. And, honestly, I kind of enjoy it. Writing odd things that some people don't get, posting random sayings that people agree/disagree with and then write comments, rambling about my life, ranting about things I cannot stand - it's been fun, definitely.

I guess, Selfistan has allowed me to become more introspective, has allowed me to ponder about 'me' and about 'existence' and about all the other varied questions I have about life and everything that comes with it. As two months of Ramblings from Selfistan and two decades of my fledgling life come to a close, I can only hope that both continue, uninterrupted, for a long time. If I get bored of the first, I've only to stop writing. And hopefully, the first will dissuade me from getting bored with the second. But, having read the stuff in here, you've probably figured out that getting bored and annoyed with the second will take a long time.

I'm pretty good at amusing myself (post #3 i think).

Anyway, back to readings on Kashmir and the first Indo-Pak war. But before that, ponder this wonderful quote by Marcel Proust.

Les vrais paradis sont les paradis qu'on a perdus.

True paradise is the one that you have lost.

That's it for now...ciao, adios, au revoir...and remember...to be born again, first you must die

~me

templates and html...

Soooooo...i luv blogger - it's easy to use...but u can't customize your blog enough. I like this dots template..it's cool but one can't put a picture as a header which sux cuz i have one that i want to use :( I managed to get the to be born again first you must die running script up and running but this pic thing is eluding me

if anyone knows how....help? i tried looking at html tutorials on the web, but all of the tags need URLs...and the pic is on my laptop...hmm

well...until that's up and running..here's the pic...i made it...haha

That's it for now...ciao, adios, au revoir...and remember...to be born again first you must die

~me

Dvitiya - Number 2

if we attain immortality, do we cease to be alive?

Life and death cannot exist without one another. The concept of life depends on the fact that we can die. Just as we need woman to know what man is, we need life to know death - and vice versa.

So if I or you or we become immortal, we lose death. And if we lose death and the concept of death, we also lose life.

When I or you or we become immortal, we stop living. If we weren't immortal and we stopped living we would die. So what happens when we become immortal? Do we enter another state of being? Do we become ghosts - neither alive nor dead?

That's it for now...ciao, adios, au revoir...and remember...to be born again first you must die

~me