The Trio Strength

No matter how strong I appear, I'm very weak and sometimes the thing that keeps me standing is hug from Wu or a text from Cracker or the faith reviving stories from Famaay.

Wuwu

A younger twin sister. The person I can fight with when I'm angry at the world and not feel guilty about it. The youngest in the grandpa Enver's family. The girl who keeps falling for fictional characters and the telly celebs and a specific douche bag over and over again that she forgets to notice the nice ones arounds her. She has supported me in my worst and I've hated her with all my heart at times. But we have stuck together. She is my little angel, my gift from God, my shield from the ruthless world, my super-power that helps me survive.

Cracker
Girls remember everything - they are correct when they say that. I, for instance, remember the day I first talked to him back in 2004. I remember I our fight. The first time i shed tears. The first time we met. The time he hacked into my computer. Jokes he told, the picture he showed. Every single thing. I remember the time my parents found out about him. I remember staying awake through the nights for him. He's the guy I've truly loved. The one I've cried myself to sleep for. The guy I met who was the strangest stranger. A nameless entity with a faceless identity. The person I pray for. I've lost my heart to guy who knows how to take care of a thing someone has trusted him with. 

Famay

I rarely form attachments to people, and I don't really trust people. I keep expecting people to back stab me. Long term friends worry; I keep falling off the radar, not calling or texting, not posting my thoughts online. When I get down and depressed, I feel I have no one I can talk to, I turtle up and hide away. I remember how I hated you when I met you, how you still make fun of me while I make those faces when I meet new people. You've done what no friend has ever done for me. You listen to my bullshit and not judge me. You take care of my pet while I'm out of town. And most importantly you support my irrational love story. We'll be the old ladies who run around the malls, stalk cute guys on facebook. We'll cry to the rock-band-songs you love and re-read our stories over and over to each other. You'll be the one sipping tea while I'll still be on iced cappuccinos. 

Lost

Saturday June 16, 2012

Last I talked to him. We weren't even in a fight or anything. This has never happened before. And I'm not used to being ignored, not by him atleast. I don't know if I'm over reacting, I might as well be dead than feel this.

I have no idea how life without him is. But I'm sure its not easy. My brain's killing me. My thoughts are horrible and I'd give away anything right now just to hear from him. I hope he's alright. 

With hopes of finding love again.

Ustaad aur Adha Marasi

This blog post is coming out because of 'The Teacher' who loves to hate the poor nasal singer, who has made it big, thanks to the popular Coke Studio, Bilal Khan, is winning hearts and/or making people wish they were deaf or even better should make their ears bleed, which surely would hurt them less.

I didn't even had the courage to put myself through the torture of listening to 'Taraay' simply because we have singers like Quaid-e-Tehreek Altaaaf Bhai in the house. Secretly I was wishing Bilal Khan to be replaced with Altaf Hussein, the legendary singer. There would have been some entertainment for the Wapda ki sataayi hoee gareeb awaam. But in 26 years of my life, I've grown to accept that not all wishes come true. Not everybody I hate dies on spot. ALAS!

Ever since Bilal Khan's Bachana came out, I've been wondering if he had these zehreeli choontiyan in chaddi (poisonous ants in his boxers) which makes him sound cringing and shrieking with pain, but still sounds to some of our very own music lovers and Coke Studio addicts like the next Alamgir. Coming to a more pressing point, why have the kunwaray naujawans started wearing clothes like they are nau-daulaati aunties jinki nawayi nawayi lottery lagi ho who love wearing banaarsi /fancy clothes all the time. Bilal Khan is one of such (aunties cum naujawaan) who looks like a Dulha apni zaati shadi mai Abdullah deewana.


Now that I have the chance I mustn't let it slip away in away. A couple of months back, Bilal Khan and Pakistan's new and modern Reshma (Hint: Humsafar singer) came out with remix and re-enactment of the ever famous Alamgir gem, deekhna na tha. Everybody on my FB friend's list to youtube feedback/comments went cuckoo over their heart touching voices. Saddens me to break this to you, but I can't even decide who was worse in that song. QB has failed to sing one single personal track of her own is surviving via covers and Bilal Khan ko tu bunda bolay bhe tu kya bolay, pighaali hoee kulfi jesa muh hai uska, uspe uski awaz, sonay pe sohaagan. Yeh dono roshan sitara nahi, toota hua tara, jo zameen pe Allah k azaab bun k girtay hein Pakistan pe.


Pakistan faces many problems, adha marasi, Coke Studio k back to back seasons mai perform kara hai, isssay bari bad-kismati yeh hai k abhi tak Malik Riaz ne Gaana nahi gaya (WHY?). I can't even express my disappointment at our reaction towards music. Our music industry was world's best, we had singers like Ustaad Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, Mehdi Hassan, Malka Tarumun Noor Jehan, Alamgir, Nazia & Zohaib Hassan; Bands like Vital Signs, Junoon. People (self proclaimed singers) like Bilal Khan, Uzair Jaswal (I almost forgot Sahir Lodhi) and many others of the sort are spoiling the definition of music and wrecking the pronunciation of entire Urdu Langauge.

Allah Madad kerey apki aur apke dimagh ki agar Bilal Khan abhi bhe pasand hai apko.