The Day I Failed my HSSC Exam

2004 - the year I took my HSSC exams.

It wouldn't be wrong if I told you I couldn't pass Mathematics if my life depended on it. Unfortunately, I had Math during my intermediate years. Though its not a proud moment from anyone else's perspective but after my first year result was out, I had only scored 37 out of 100 in math. While my mum was busy telling me how my result has been affected by my mathless brains, I was busy offering salah-te-shukarana, for only I know it was impossible for me to clear something I barely understood.

Then came my second year at college. I went to college every working day, but I never attended any classes. By the time, the term was ending, the college administration sent a notice to my residence stating that they wouldn't be able to send my registration on college's behalf to the Board authorities. I'll skip what happened at my place after that letter and continue with how I convinced my college administration that I couldn't attend college for those 3-4 months. I'll also skip the lies I told them about why I couldn't make it to college for one whole term. The Vice Principal decided to give me a shot, and arranged to special exams that were only conducted for me, luckily for me, I passed those, and was allowed to register from college for the federal board exams.

I passed the maths exam because my parents got me math tutor and I hated him, but thanks to that bloke I cleared my mocks.

Finally, I was done with intermediate and was waiting for result, praying regularly, being nice to everyone around, only so I could pass this last exam. Nothing was more important then passing board exams back then. And then one fine day, the Federal Board announced the result.

I logged in to their website, but it wasn't working and I decided to call the board office and ask for my result. As soon as the guy picked up I told him my roll number to which he replied, "Fail hein ap" If I could have died of heart failure, that was the moment, magar mai dheet, I' "Kya matlab?" He replied, "Bibi aik bhe subject nahi clear apka" and then I heard toot toot toot, because he had disconnected. Standing there thinking about what had gone wrong and how the hell I would ever face anybody again in life, tears running down my face when my mum came downstairs and started, "karalya hun zaleel saanu?"

And the phone rang, my younger sister checked the caller ID and said: "fishie its your friend natasha." I couldn't muster up courage to take the phone and my mum refused to talk to me or anyone, hence my sister picked up. I could hear natasha's excited voice through the phone and I wanted to die. I took the phone and congratulated her and told her I've failed. She couldn't believe it. And asked for my roll number, because the board website was working at her place. I told her my roll number and she started laughing. She was laughing when I felt nothing but remorse on my very existence. Thats when I screamed at her, "Mubarak ho tumhe tumharai marks" and she sobered a bit and told me that the roll number I was telling her was my first year's roll number and I needed to check my second year's roll number slip. 

I ran upstairs checked my roll number and told her and found out that I hadn't actually failed but the first thing she told me was, "you've 33 in math"

Through that day I know, how it feels to fail a course, or a year altogether. I'm glad it was only temporary though. I always double check things now.

I will never forget that horrible moment when the guy said, "Ap fail hein."

I still have nightmares about it. But I'm glad I could tell my mother at the end, "Nahi karaya thuwanu zaleel" and hugged her.

Islamabad - Just a memory for now

This is an old note I wrote when I came to canada in 2009
Still miss Islamabad just the same, posting this because I'm bored.

Adding this picture, because he once said, he loves Islamabad's view from Monal.

I know Islamabad is going to miss me and I know its going to be a LOT. Islamabad - the beautiful. My love. Mo Chrio. There were times when at night I would lay on my bed and think how I would grow old and MORE useless (hahaha) and not get tired of living in that heaven. I would be sitting in a class and drift into day dreams about how I loved this city and someday I would be buried in the very soil of it. I was a show-off, I thought I was a better girl and lived in a better place than everybody else because they lived NOT in Islamabad. 

I'm sure it would miss me like I miss it. 

Now nobody would argue with an elder that ISLAMABAD is ISLAMABAD and DHA ISLAMABAD is in RAWALPINDI. And that someday I would file a petition against the wrong usage of my town's name in an outer territory. 

A 60 kg, fat, 22 year old, short haired fish would no longer walk on the lovable streets. 

Islamabad misses its behan-trio already. The unbreakable, unbeatable, unbearable trio. 

The town would miss me. The new found heroine. 

lol. 

Am not bragging about it or anything, but I think I am THE HEROINE. 

A opposite of two? Can't answer, it’s a lonely me and a lonely Islamabad-the beautiful. Now would anyone look after the street lights and register a complain that one on the ibne sina road which is miles away from my home wasn’t lit. Who would right suggestions and drop them in the comment boxes? Who would send appreciation letters to the CDA chairman who made my town look more beautiful, and I never even thought it was even possible. Not that I did all this stuff, but I planned to do it, someday, when I grew old enough. 

A someone who went out with her baba to a medical store to fetch some medicine and on her way back brought ice-creams from McDonalds. Would ever, Islamabad see another, who loved been driven around the city just for fun? 

I would guide people to their destinations without even being with them. I know Islamabad by Inch and centimeters. I knew every corner and street. I knew I would never get lost here. I knew no one could take me any where strange with in Islamabad. Haha, Didnt I get those bastards caught? 

Who would go the Mei Hoe now? Who would get hair-cuts just for fun? Who would ask Stephaney where she got her new top from? Who would pass by Mimi’s house and blow kisses and text her, I just passed by your house and waved and blah blah blah. 

I know I’m not the only one, I know I wasn’t the last one. I know I might only be dazed. But I know even if Islamabad doesn’t miss me. I MISS IT. And would every single day of eternity.

Just Thoutghts

It scares me when I get close to people, because either I'll continue to grow closer to them or I'll stop and we'll become strangers. Either way it'll hurt (sooner or later).

I was a happy person once. Notorious to an extend that my teachers would make me sit alone and/or on their desk. Those things never worked, because I was one of the unstoppables. From taking an exam for a friend who feared failing the course for the third time to shutting the power supply of the whole campus while we had a VIP guest for an event. Was always caught but managed to crawl out of the claws with this little notorious brain of mine. And then I got tried of being all that. 

I got tired of always being happy and the kind of a girl who solved most of her problems with quick thinking and cunning reactions. I got tired of how everything I did or said was taken for a cheap practical joke. I got tired of me.

And the friends that you allow to get yourself close to, are the ones who hurt you and leave you without an explanation or even an apology. That's when you discover their true colors and get to know who they are. 

The Part of Family People Call Parrot

This is for Philep (Fleepy) - The Parrot

I wish she was a human (only so I could bring her to Canada with me). I had never imagined caring for a bird as much, and it startles me to find myself loving you as much as I do.

I keep texting baba and ask him to send me your pictures and talk about you all day. Roam pointlessly around the house and look for you, even though I know you're not here, you're never been here. I tell your tales to my friends here. Nobody believes your love for coke and ice-cubes. Then I showed them this picture:

I miss how you knocked on the almond jar and asked for those badaams and I miss how you nibbled on my ears and beaked my cheeks and lips. feepy :(

I miss how you woke me up every morning with pulling my eyelids softly with your beak (yes, and I didn't mind and/or got hurt). Miss how you meowed when I got back home after long day at office. You've been to my office and showed everyone how well behaved you little thing are:

Dear little parrot, I'll be back home. With love and hopes of finding my pet all grown up <3

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.